Dead Man Ohio (A Dead Man Mystery Book 4) Page 2

  I sensed she was getting ready to hang up and I couldn't let her do that without at least a hint of warning. "And do me a favor," I went on. "Whatever it is, stay away from it until I get there."

  For a moment, I thought my cell phone had dropped the call, but Twila finally said, "I'm not sure I can do that, Alice. But don't worry. I really am glad you're coming. Bye."

  "Wait, wait!" I insisted, and I gratefully heard her sigh, indicating she was still on the line. "Do me another favor, then. Be sure and check your car over before you drive it."

  "Hmmmm," she mused as I silently sent her one of the telepathic communications we used only in a dire emergency: There might be something hitching a ride with you, something not nice.

  "I understand," she said. "My car needs a good going over anyway. It's been a while since she's had a tune-up. I might even burn some sage in her."

  "A good idea, the sage," I said, relieved that she had indeed picked up my alert of a possible troublesome entity.

  "Have a safe trip the rest of the way," she said. She disconnected this time, and I stared at the phone for a long while. Finally, Granny interrupted my contemplation of what could be going on in the quiet countryside in the state of Ohio.

  "She's into something worrisome, huh?" Granny asked.

  Unlike Twila and me, Granny only has a slightly above-normal sixth sense. Her blue eyes held more than a hint of anxiety when I looked over where she sat on the side of her bed, already in her long, flannel nightgown. Trucker had moved over to lay his huge head on her knee, and Miss Molly had crawled onto her lap. The animals always seemed to know when they needed to offer support and comfort.

  "She won't tell me all of it," I said as I walked over and sat on my own bed, across from Granny. "But from the hints she dropped, I think she's looking into one of the situations like we had in Jefferson and Cimarron. You know, when we got called in to help with ghosts who wouldn't cross into The Light."

  "And also got mixed up in a new murder right 'bout the same time," Granny reminded me.

  "Twila assured me...or at least, I think it's what she meant...that's she's just seeing what she can find out about a troublesome ghost. But she's glad we're coming."

  "Then why don't you look all calm, cool and collected about what she told you?"

  "Oh, Granny, you know how brave she is. She never lets anything we run into in the paranormal realm get to her, no matter how nasty. But she claims she's not sure what she's dealing with this time."

  "If'n she don't know, given how much experience she's got under that red hair of hers," Granny mused, "mebbe you should've brought your satchel of heavy-duty protection stuff."

  "I did," I said with a nod. "And also my consecration supplies. Before I go to bed tonight, I'm going to re-consecrate and re-bless every darn thing in the bag. Right down to the last quince seed."

  Chapter 2

  I didn't bother to set my cell phone alarm. Granny always rose way before sunrise, and although she tried to be quiet when we were staying in the same room, I couldn't ignore the difference in the atmosphere. Perhaps my psychic senses picked up on the change; perhaps I was a lighter sleeper than some. It never woke me at home when the animals prowled the bedroom...well, unless Trucker stuck his wet nose under the covers or Miss Molly yowled in my ear because her water dish was empty.

  To get myself going, I showered and choked down a cup of in-room coffee. We walked the animals and put them back in the room before heading for a breakfast buffet next door to the motel. As much of a hurry as I was in, I'd never make the drive successfully without more caffeine and something to eat.

  Besides, Twila and I always justified our overeating on trips as there being no calories in food we consumed then. Lies, but I intended to stuff my tummy, since I'd eaten here before and knew the food was awesome.

  They must have hired a new cook since our last trip.

  "Ugh," Granny said as we left after reluctantly paying the bill. It wasn't only that the price for the buffet had doubled, but we'd had to ask for a stack of additional napkins to soak up the grease on dishes like bacon and fried potatoes before we could eat them.

  "Bet I know where you could get a job cooking," I told her.

  "I'll keep it in mind," she responded. "But right now...lookee there!"

  She pointed at the new C-Max hybrid I'd bought just last month. Not one, but two of the tires were flat!

  "What the hell?" I muttered as I stomped over to examine the damage. Not only were the tires flat, but someone had keyed the side of the car. A faint scratch marred the light gray-green paint listed as Seafoam on the sticker. It ran from the driver's side front fender to the rear taillight.

  "Wonder if it was that fool you tee'd off when you forgot to check behind you and pulled out to pass that slow eighteen-wheeler?" Granny mused.

  "Could have been that asshole," I fumed as I took out my cell phone and snapped a dozen pictures of the damage. I stowed the phone safely in the glove box before I marched into the motel office.

  A teenage male stood behind the counter, his short blond dreadlocks sticking every-which-direction as he stared downward.

  "Someone damaged my car," I told him.

  He barely looked up from where he was furiously thumbing a message into the cell phone I now saw in his hands. He nodded a head-flick at a sign on the wall that read: Not Responsible for Accidents to Your Vehicle or Belongings.

  Lucky for me, unlucky for him, he wasn't protected by a wall of Plexiglas like at some of the lower-class motels I used to have to stay at. I reached over the counter and jerked the phone out of his hand.

  "Hey!" he shouted, making a grab for it back.

  I handed the phone to Granny and leaned in to face him, nose to nose, ignoring the garlicky smell of his breath. "I happen to be a lawyer," I lied. "And I know that sign up there doesn't mean diddly squat in court! Where's the security guard you had on duty when I stayed here last?"

  The kid backed up a step, but not—I was sure—out of respect. "They had to cut the budget when the economy tanked," he blurted.

  "Well, who keyed my car and flattened two of my tires?" I demanded. "You can see out the window behind me, and I'm parked right in your line of vision. That damage wasn't done when we went over to breakfast, and now it is. How long have you been on duty?"

  "Two hours," he said before it evidently dawned on him that he probably should keep his mouth shut to a supposed lawyer. He hastily added, "But I...uh...went to the bathroom once."

  "Yeah, and the rest of the time, you were texting!"

  "Uh...no I wasn't," he lied in his turn.

  "Is the manager here?" I demanded. "I want to file a claim."

  He shook his head negatively. "She'll have my hide if I bother her right now. She's in the back with...uh...someone."

  "Someone? Someone not her husband?"

  His eyes widened. "Are you a PI instead of a lawyer?"

  "Are you going to call her or am I going back there?" I asked, heading for the connecting door beside the desk.

  He rushed over and turned the lock on the door. With a barely concealed smirk, he said, "If you'll wait about fifteen minutes, I'm sure she'll be back on duty."

  I turned to share my disgust at his outsmarting me with Granny, but she wasn't standing behind me. Instead, she had walked over to what appeared to be a pull-down fire alarm handle on the wall. At first, I took it for just a decoration, but evidently Granny didn't.

  Turned out, she was right.

  "Noooo!" yelled the teen, but his shriek didn't cause Granny to so much as pause as she yanked down the gray lever set in the middle of that red metal box.

  AHOOOOOO. AHOOOOOO. AHOOOOOOOOOOO! the alarm shrieked. And above us, the ceiling sprinklers let loose. Within seconds, our hair was soaked through. Not only that, but another shriek joined the continued blares of the alarm as a tiny blond woman in a filmy negligee she was still sliding into barreled out a doorway behind the office area.

  "What the hell's going on out here, Bobby Lee?" she yelled as she slid to a halt. She was probably fifty, if a day, because she had the beginning of faint jowls beneath her chin. She hadn't resorted to one of those lifts advertised on television yet. She may have had liposuction, though, since she looked fairly firm in the belly and thigh area. At second glance, she might have had a boob job, too, but given her slight build, she should have opted for a C rather than double D.

  The deluge of water turned that wrap, and the flimsy gown beneath it, totally transparent, and Bobby Lee—which I guess was the teenager's name—stood there with his mouth agape.

  I tried not to, but I glanced down at the front of the kid's baggy jeans. His erection stood out so strong, it was a wonder it didn't pop those metal buttons.

  "Bobby Lee!" she demanded, but she dropped her eyes and noticed his protrusion, pointed right at her. Her face reddened as her anger intensified, but she glanced over and saw Granny and me. At the same moment, it seemed to dawn on her what was going on, especially the working ceiling sprinklers. She didn't glare at them. She ducked her chin to stare down at herself ...all of herself totally exposed under the translucent material.

  The door she had exited opened a few inches as someone back there apparently tried to see what all the commotion was about...at the same moment Blondie whirled and raced back the way she had come. Her arms were out to push at the door, which she did. It hit something with a kerthunk, but she didn't let that stop her. She leaped over whoever was on the floor and disappeared.

  The water from the ceiling wasn't really that cold, so I continued to stand there. I could see through the open door, and little man lying there untangled his limbs and tried to stand. He finally reached up to grab the doorknob. Using it for support, he pulled himself to his feet...and stood there in his b
riefs. Very brief briefs, which barely covered more than a jockstrap would.

  Maybe he thought it made him look sexy. Maybe it would have, on a man forty years younger. This guy had to be at least seventy. His spindly legs descended beneath a protruding tummy—one of those physiques that you see when an older man has to wear his trousers belted above where his waistline used to be. His chest was concave, and he hadn't taken time to put in his teeth before set out to check on his lost bed partner. He probably wasn't expecting to be seen.

  Suddenly the alarm died a silent death, and Granny handed me an umbrella as she said, "Hank Peters! Does Callie Jo know you're foolin' 'round with that there young heifer?"

  I'd looked behind Granny to see where she'd gotten the umbrellas. The stand with two left in it stood beneath that alarm lever, so I presumed she had been the one to turn it off. But when she spoke, I jerked my gaze back to the elderly man. He stood there as though in shock, which I'm pretty sure he was. His stare centered on Granny.

  "Wha...what are you doing here?" he sputtered. "You...you're in Texas."

  "And Callie Jo's in Tennessee," Granny said as she held her own umbrella with one hand and propped her other one on her hip. Her foot, clad in the white sneakers she loved to wear, tapped a cadence on the tiled floor. "She's livin' not too far from here, from what I recall. And last I heard, you was still married to her!"

  I wasn't surprised Granny recognized the elderly man. She knew hundreds of people, and was related to a high percentage of them through her wide-flung family. Hank, though, remained frozen like a deer in headlights at her recognition of him and his philandering.

  An arm snaked out from behind the door and dragged Hank out of sight. The door slammed, and a deep silence descended, broken only by the continuing patter of water drops.

  "Uh..." Bobby Lee said. "You two mind if I turn off this water?"

  "You can do that?" I asked. "Go!"

  He walked over to the desk and pushed a button beneath it. The water ceased, except for a telltale drip now and then. Remembering why we were in this mess, I heaved a sigh as I shook the umbrella free of water and re-closed it.

  "You ladies want some coffee?" Bobby Lee asked before I could demand he get Blondie's butt back out here. He motioned to where a pot sat on a shelf against the rear wall. From what I could see, the coffee had boiled dry long before and was caked on the bottom of the glass pot.

  "No," Granny and I said together, and I went on, "Go back there and tell Blondie I want to file my claim!"

  The second siren outside the building announced the arrival of a huge red fire truck, which squealed to a stop behind where I was parked. After it, a smaller truck, with Ambulance written backward across the front so drivers could read it in their rear view mirrors, pulled in. The rescuers on the tanker truck threw open doors and leaped off bumpers to grab hoses and immediately start unlocking two fire hydrants in front of the building. Their frantic actions indicated they weren't going to bother to ask what was on fire.

  I grabbed Granny and lifted her over the desk, then followed her. Blondie hadn't locked the door she'd used to escape, and I half-carried Granny through it. After pushing her to safety, I couldn't help myself. I peeked around the door.

  Bobby Lee was staring after us. Behind him, I noticed a tiny spurt of smoke from the coffeepot. It must not have been one of those safety pots, which turned itself off if left too long. Or perhaps the sprinkler water had shorted something out. I barely got my mouth open to shout a warning to Bobby Lee about standing way too close to the malfunction before flames erupted. Flames that licked dangerously close to his baggy pants.

  "Move!" I shouted at Bobby Lee.

  I didn't really expect his teenage brain to process the warning that quickly, but it did. Or maybe he smelled the smoke. He jumped away from the flames, and the next thing I knew, he was behind the door with me, watching as the firemen rushed in, the hose already spewing a deadly stream of water that destroyed everything in its path.

  The water splintered the door Bobby Lee had locked earlier and hit the small table behind it, which held a printer, fax, and various other pieces of office equipment. Then the two firemen aimed the hose at the flames and smoke coming from the coffeepot.

  It didn't take long for the fire to die out, and before I realized it, the firemen were glancing around to see if there were any other places that needed their attention. The problem was, the hose was wandering with their gazes. Bobby Lee, given his teenage body, was able to make one leap and get behind the protective door before the water hit us. I, with my older, slower, body, couldn't move as fast. The next thing I knew, I was sliding along the floor on my back, trying not to drown in the water rushing over me.

  My head hit something with a thump that sent those stars I'd only read or written about winging through my consciousness. I knew I was going to drown, because I couldn't muster up enough strength to roll over. Then the water abruptly ceased.

  Two paramedics hurried toward me as I regained my senses. I could tell by the looks on their faces they were ready, willing and able to do whatever it took to save my life.

  Despite the pain it caused in my head, I rolled over and got to my knees. With the help of the wall, I rose to my feet.

  "Ma'am!" one medic said. "Don't do that. You're hurt!"

  I hate it when someone not that much younger than me calls me ma'am. I held out a forestalling hand and said, "I'm not hurt that bad. Both of you leave me alone."

  "We can't do that, ma'am," the second medic said.

  Granny toddled over to me and said, "You lissen to me, Alice Carpenter. You set yourself down on that chair over there and let these here nice doctors take a look at you."

  "They're not doc—" I began, but Granny tapped my lips with her finger and gave me one of her don't-mess-with-me looks. I sat where she indicated. At least it was a metal chair without a sopping wet seat. Not that I was dry myself. I stared down to make sure I wasn't as exposed as Blondie had been, but I'd put on a jacket against the cool mountain air that morning and it was still zipped up.

  The medic lifted my chin, and the darned flashlight he used to examine me burned into my eyes. I tried to close them, but he forced them open with his thumb and forefinger, first one, then the other. As far as I was concerned, he should have been able to see if my pupils were enlarged, indicating a possible concussion, a good ten seconds before he finally shut off the light.

  "You'll need x-rays—" he began

  "Look," I told him as I gratefully accepted an ice pack the other young man held out to me and gently laid it against my head. "I appreciate your care, but I'm not going to the hospital. I'm not dizzy or confused. And I've got far more important things to do than take time out from my trip to be x-rayed for a non-existent concussion."

  "You can't know for sure," he insisted.

  "I'll sign your waiver," I told him as two blue-clad policemen walked into the lobby past the open door and stood with their hands on their hips, examining the damage.

  The policemen strolled back to where we were gathered, and one of them nodded at the paramedics. "Kyle, Andy. What happened here? Do I need to call the Fire Marshall?"

  "Naw," the younger man replied. "Looks like that coffeepot shorted out."

  "'Cause the sprinkler water hit it," Bobby Lee said. "Plus the water probably destroyed the computer and fax and...." His eyes widened and he glared at me. "What did you do with my cell phone?"

  I instinctively felt my pockets before I recalled handing the phone to Granny. When I looked over at her, she dug in her own jacket, which was as dripping wet as mine, and pulled out the phone.

  "Uh oh," she said. "I heard mebbe iffen you put a wet one of these in rice, it'll dry out."

  "No!" Bobby Lee rushed over and grabbed the phone. He stepped back and pointed at Granny. "She's the one who started all this. You need to arrest her for a false fire alarm."

  One of the firemen who came through the door in time to hear Bobby Lee said, "There was indeed a fire, so there's no false alarm. That coffeepot could have caused this entire building to go up. And how many guests do you have in residence?"

  Bobby Lee defended himself by saying, "The fire started because of the water from the ceiling hitting the wiring."