| |
As we climbed back onto the party bus, everyone was buzzing with what we had been through. They kept trying to figure out how the ghost told Echo to move us. Johnny walked from seat to seat, checking in on people and offering free boogie board rentals anytime. Echo had the tact to not try to spin any ghost stories on the ride back. We had our fill, thank you very much.
I leaned over to him as we jostled down the road. "How did you know?" I asked.
"I just knew," Echo said, shaken. "I just... knew."
I held Nate's hand tight. "That was so weird..." I said.
His jaw was clenched as he shot glances at Johnny. "It was so dangerous. I can't believe Johnny brought people out here."
I realized I needed to remind him we all were fine. He was still riding that high of fight or flight, and his lizard brain was telling him to fight. "It isn't his fault," I reminded him. "It is an old building."
Echo, to his credit, backed me up. "I was the one who forced Johnny to do this," he said. "I am completely responsible. I just wanted a way to show Tango up, that's all." He gulped. "It seemed completely safe when I was there earlier setting up."
"Well, it wasn't," said Nate. He then backed off, realizing that it wasn't Echo's fault either. "Accidents happen," he conceded. He gripped my hand tight. "I just don't know what I would do if I lost you," he said. "That catwalk could have killed us."
I got a cold chill down my spine, knowing the truth of his words.
Nate's mouth set into a grim line. "I'm thinking that we should tell Fred and Stan about this."
"What can they do about it?" I asked.
"Maybe just get out an alert to let people know not to trespass. Keep an eye out for anyone who tries to break in." He rubbed his forehead. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt."
"That sounds like a good idea," I reassured him, squeezing his forearm bracingly. "They'll have that place wrapped so tight in crime tape, no one will be able to get in there for the next century."
The driver dropped everyone off by the Halloween festival, but Nate and I decided to skip it. Johnny was really torn over whether to come with us or smooth things over with his guests. We assured him we'd handle everything and to stick with the folks who needed some reassuring.
We headed to Main Street, swung by Bitter Beans for a hot minute to grab some necessary stuff, then Nate and I hopped into his truck and drove over to the police station. It was a square concrete building built in a cheapo version of Brutalism architecture. It was square and cinderblock and had glass doors with aluminum framing left over from the day it was built in the 1950s.
Fred was sitting in the front office, which I was actually glad of. Stan was so quick on the draw to blame some random, wacky conspiracy theory instead of the information before him. Fred was also nuts, but I could usually talk some sense into him with a little Bitter Beans bribery.
He saw us at the door and then quickly pretended he was enraptured with whatever spreadsheet he was working on.
I rapped on the glass and held up a bag of Bitter Beans' baked goods. I knew that the day-old cinnamon rolls wouldn't get us the response we needed, but it takes quite a bit to make a sugar cookie go bad. I reached inside and pulled out the ghost and pumpkin iced cookies and made them dance for Fred.
I saw his resolve crumble and heard the sound of the door buzz to let us in.
He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "To be clear, I am not letting you in just because you have delicious holiday cookies."
"Glad to hear it."
"I could just tell that if you were stooping to such depths as to bribe an officer of the peace, you must have a real issue."
"Absolutely," I said, putting the bag on the counter.
He pulled out the cookies and his face softened. "Aw! They are so cute!" He turned to me with a smile. "Okay. What's the problem?"
We were just about to fill Fred in when Stan rolled into the room. His brow furrowed and his face soured. "What is this miscreant doing in our lobby?" he snapped, his finger pointed at me. He didn't dare insult Nate.
"They brought us cookies!" Fred said, reaching in and pulling them out. "See!"
"I'll take that!" snapped Stan, snatching one out of Fred's hand.
His lip trembled almost imperceptibly. "But I wanted the ghost."
"Speaking of ghosts..." Nate interrupted, seeing this conversation was about to head off in a random path where we did not want to go. "We were over at the old canning factory." He then proceeded to fill in the two officers about the falling catwalk.
"Huh," said Stan. He paused to rub his nose thoughtfully. "So. You're telling me this was an accident?"
"We think..." said Nate. It hadn't even dawned on us that it could be anything except an accident.
"Because it sure would drum up a lot of business if that Echo could tell people that ghosts are real and they saved your life."
Nate held up his hands to slow his roll. "He wouldn't do that. We just thought maybe you could put up some caution tape and help us get word out to any kids who might want to party there this weekend to stay away until we get an expert in."
"We should check and see if the bolts were cut instead of ripped out from the wall by the weight of the catwalk... Or maybe missing all together..." Fred mused.
"What?" asked Stan, turning back to his partner like he had forgotten Fred was even there.
Fred picked at the icing on his cookie. "I know that you are up for a big promotion, and I think any review board would be extremely impressed by your powers of deduction if you cracked this case."
"It's not a case..." Nate protested.
But "promotion" was the magic words that caused Stan's eyes to light up. He adjusted his pants by his waistband. "Yeah. I think you are right, Fred. That would be an awfully impressive thing before the review board if we discovered it had been deliberate." He was getting more excited than ever. I shouldn't have been so surprised. It was a conspiracy, and Stan did love a good conspiracy. "Fred! Grab your things! We're heading over there to check it out now!"
Fred scrambled up, his long, lanky limbs banging on the underside of the desk. "Can I bring my cookie?"
"Yeah, it'll be good for bringing with us in the car." He looked at me and winked. "Hard to stay focused when your stomach is growling. Now get out. We gotta get locked up."
Nate took my elbow and steered us out of the police station. "If you could bring the caution tape with you...."
"That's what we're here for!" Stan called out after us. "To protect and serve!"
"And thank you for the cookie!" Fred added.