The Haunted Heist Read online

  “I can install you a new one,” Ellis offered, gentlemanly and just a tad modest.

  “It’s not going to fix what happened yesterday,” I began.

  “I heard what she said to you,” he said quickly, “the last part at least,” he added tightly. “I thought what she did to you was about the wedding money, but what I witnessed at my door, that was personal. I told her it ends now. I’m not going to let her treat you that way.”

  “What did you say to her?” He might have made it worse.

  “I didn’t tell her about us,” he conceded. “I wanted to, but I wouldn’t do that without your okay.”

  I felt my shoulders relax. Thank goodness for small miracles.

  He whooshed out a breath. He still had a slight scar under his eye from when he’d saved me from a killer. If anything, it made him even sexier. “Your brake light is out,” he said, as if that justified our entire exchange.

  I tried to fight a grin. “Well, then I’m just glad I know a guy who can fight crime and install brake lights.”

  That was Ellis. He’d learned how to fix a heater so he could maintain Maisie Hatcher’s system when she had too little money and too much pride to accept charity. He took extra shifts on holidays for the officers who had wives and children.

  If he tamed his mother, he really would be Superman.

  He drummed his fingers on my door frame and pretended to consider the question. “When properly motivated,” he conceded.

  He cocked a grin and I couldn’t help but do the same. Dang. If I wasn’t careful, I’d fall right back in with this man. Head first.

  That could be a big mistake.

  I braced my hands on the wheel. “Ellis, what are we doing?”

  He let out a huff, his gaze wandering out to the road in front of us. “Hell if I know.” His piercing hazel eyes returned to me, hiding nothing.

  “It isn’t smart,” I chastised him, and myself.

  “Don’t remind me.” He leaned a hand against my door frame. “Listen, aside from your run-in with my mother, I wanted to know if you were okay after yesterday. After you left, I called the station and they told me what happened at the bank. How are you doing?”

  “Not great,” I admitted. “I was there for the whole thing, Ellis. I mean, I was upstairs in Reggie’s office when he was killed, but I was down there with Stan, Carla, Jeb, and Em right after Carla found his body.”

  He shook his head and stepped back. I used the opportunity to get out of the car. “You’ve got to stop hanging out at crime scenes,” he said plainly.

  I closed the door a little harder than necessary. “It’s not like it’s a hobby,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Dang, it was chilly out here. I winced as a car drove past, kicking up small rocks and debris. “I could have been downstairs with a killer. Although I’m hoping the murderer snuck out upstairs and through the door Jeb wasn’t guarding.” I really didn’t like the idea of it being someone I’d spent time with.

  Ellis positioned himself between me and the road, clearly debating how much he could tell me. “The camera in the stairwell shows nobody left that way.”

  It still didn’t mean it was Stan, Jeb, Carla, or Em. “Someone could have been hiding out down there, for days even.”

  “No,” Ellis said. “The night security guard checked the entire floor at the end of his shift.”

  Yikes. So it had to be one of the four of them.

  Or Handsome Henry. I shuddered to think Frankie could be right on this one. The ghost would certainly be able to avoid guards and cameras.

  And according to Frankie, a ghost could have shorted out the camera over the vault.

  I leaned against the closed car door. “Stan says he was upstairs when Reggie died, but I think he went down there before the killing. I told Duranja. Did that make it into the report?”

  “Yes.” Ellis braced his hands on his gun belt. “Only your story doesn’t bear out.” His gaze caught mine. “Stan came down less than a minute before you did, right before Carla opened the door. Jeb also confirms it.”

  “So he didn’t do it,” I said automatically, bothered that I hadn’t gotten my timeline right and that I’d caused Stan pain in the process.

  Ellis drew a hand through his short brown hair, leaving it adorably mussed. “It’s easy to make mistakes when your emotions are in play,” he conceded.

  “Yes,” I said, not sure what to do with that. Why couldn’t I be one of those people who knew what to do right out of the chute? I always tried to do the right thing.

  “Aren’t you glad you’re also in the clear?” he prodded.

  “I already knew that,” I said.

  “The police didn’t,” he said as another car blew past. “I did,” he added.

  The police radio on his belt kicked on, something about illegal parking on Main.

  “What about Carla, Em, or Jeb?” I asked.

  “We’re not sure.” Ellis’s jaw ground tight. “They were all down there during the killing. Nobody left or entered, save Jeb for a smoke.”

  “I’m surprised they didn’t call you to investigate.” He was the best they had, and I wasn’t being biased.

  His radio started up again and he turned it off. “After that last murder we solved, let’s just say I’m not Detective Marshall’s favorite person.”

  “We did it mostly by the book,” I pointed out. Except for the ghostly parts.

  He tilted his head down at me. “I read the report and learned you had an urn in your purse when the police searched it. Care to tell me more?”

  He knew all about my ghost buddy. Ellis was one of the few people who would understand.

  I shrugged. “Frankie wanted a field trip.”

  “Did Frankie see anything that could impact the case?” Ellis pressed. “Did he talk to anyone important?”

  “That’s why I stopped by your house yesterday.”

  “I figured,” he said.

  I rubbed the back of my neck and tried to think. “This is going to sound crazy if you ever repeat it,” I began.

  He leaned next to me against the car. “Try me.”

  “Frankie didn’t see the murder, but he believes it looks like the work of a hit man named Henry Hagar.”

  Ellis froze, visibly shocked.

  “What do you know?” I asked quickly.

  He blew out a breath and pushed up off the car. “There’s been a development,” he said, obviously being careful with what he revealed. He glanced back at me. “I suppose I can tell you since it’s going to be in the papers tomorrow.” His expression hardened. “We found an unusual object in Reggie’s jacket—an engraved pocket watch that belonged to ‘Handsome’ Henry Hagar, a gangster who died in 1933.”

  “Oh cripes.”

  He studied my reaction carefully. “The watch is inscribed to him from his loving sweetheart, Rosie.”

  “I’ve never met either one of them,” I said, “but Frankie knew Henry when they were both alive. From the way Frankie talks, Henry is beyond ruthless.”

  He thought for a moment, then asked the million-dollar question. “If Henry is dead, can he kill?”

  Heavens. I didn’t know for sure. “I believe it’s possible. I mean, ghosts have almost killed me before…” I braced my hands on my hips. “Of course, that was when Frankie opened me to the spiritual plane.”

  He thought for a moment. “I doubt Reggie was in the same boat as you.” He quirked a brow. “Unless he started dumping urns onto his rosebushes.”

  “Even then, Frankie’s one in a million,” I remarked. “He opened me to the other side after the murder, but I didn’t see Henry.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” Ellis said. “I don’t like the idea of you alone with a hit man.”

  “Neither do I,” I admitted, appreciating his concern. “But I’m going to have to talk to him eventually to find out whether he could kill a living person.” Saying it out loud sounded bad, even to me, but I pressed forward anyway, trying to reason it out. “Frankie�
��s tried to shoot people, but so far all he has are ghostly bullets. He might be able to shoot himself in the foot, but that’s about it.”

  Ellis thought for a moment. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “We’re going to need help. There is a ghost named Matthew Jackson.” He was a former Union soldier and one of the most knowledgeable spiritual entities I’d met. “He haunts the old library, and he’s a friend. He can talk to me even if Frankie isn’t involved.”

  He looked at his watch. “I’m going off duty soon. I’m coming with you.”

  I’d like that. “Follow me.”

  Chapter 11

  The Sugarland Public Library stood in the middle of the town square, directly across from the bank. Red limestone columns flanked the entrance, and the door resembled something out of a medieval castle. It seemed they didn’t get much of a crowd on Tuesday afternoons. I parked in front, and Ellis pulled up right behind me.

  I made it out of the car before him and waited near one of the century-old iron lampposts. Across the way, police tape crisscrossed the downstairs entrance to the bank. Two squad cars were parked out front, along with a half dozen other vehicles. It appeared as if at least the lobby had reopened, and the police were still at work below. I wondered what they were finding.

  Ellis joined me, his gaze following mine. “Let’s focus on our part of the job.”

  “Right.” We had the chance to do some real good here.

  “Follow my lead with Matthew, okay?” I wasn’t sure if Ellis would be able to see the spirit of the dead Yankee, but it was a distinct possibility. There was no telling with Matthew. He was powerful enough to let me see him without Frankie’s help. Matthew was kind by nature, but decades of abuse from other ghosts had taken their toll and he angered easily. We’d have to watch our step.

  “Ellis!” a woman’s crisp voice called out from somewhere to our left.

  A stunning older woman in a fine fur coat had paused on her way out of the church next door. She wore her gray hair in a sleek bob held back by designer sunglasses and set off with glittering red earrings.

  She waved, and my handsome companion cursed under his breath. “Mrs. Nellie Holcamp,” he ground out.

  “Ah, yes,” I said, putting on a brave face as I returned her wave. Nellie ran in the same social circles as Ellis’s mother. “I’ve met her.” Back when I was welcome in that fold.

  I was suddenly very aware of how close I stood to Virginia Wydell’s middle son, and what it meant to be seen together like this. Great. I was caught without getting to enjoy any indiscretion beforehand.

  There was nothing to be done about it, except to cast Mrs. Holcamp my sweetest smile and wait for the reckoning. With any luck, she’d decide to practice whatever Christian virtues she’d learned in the house of God and leave us in peace.

  Unfortunately for us, she didn’t seem to be feeling any love for her fellow man.

  The society matron advanced on us like a spider stalking fresh prey. My heart beat faster, knowing there was no escape.

  I hadn’t encountered Nellie since I’d returned her wedding present and her bridal shower gift—in person—this past summer. The hand-embroidered Egyptian cotton bedding and the Waterford crystal candlesticks had both been quite lovely, and very thoughtful, but of course I couldn’t keep them.

  “Why, Ellis,” she called as she neared, tucking her cashmere scarf into her fur collar, taking her time. She had us well and truly stuck. “How interesting to see you here.”

  He gave her an indulgent nod. “You look lovely today, Nellie.” If he were at all disturbed by her presence, he didn’t show it.

  She stopped in front of us, pursing her red-stained lips in a way that made it clear she’d earned a black belt in society manners. “My, my…you do know how to make a lady feel special,” she said to Ellis before her cold gaze flicked over to me. “He was always the sweet one. It’s in his nature, dear. Don’t let it go to your head.”

  A chilly wind slammed into me. “Mrs. Holcamp,” I said, with more sweetness than self-preservation required, “you have no idea.”

  Ellis and I were walking uphill with roller skates on. It wasn’t just Ellis’s mother who would make our lives difficult. We’d have to deal with the opinions of every busybody in town. But right here, right now, I wasn’t about to let a bony jerk like her define our relationship.

  “My, my…you are confident,” she said, as if it were a bad thing. I felt the hardness of her stare and smelled the bite of her French perfume. “It seems you can’t leave the Wydell boys alone for a red-hot second, can you?”

  I opened my mouth to tell her I was doing just fine by myself when my teeth picked that moment to chatter.

  “Mrs. Holcamp,” Ellis said, his rich baritone at odds with her shrill pettiness, “you have better manners than this. And more sense.”

  Her cheeks flushed with color. “I could say the same thing about you, young man,” she shot back. “I weep for your mother.”

  “And I for your husband,” he stated, silencing her at last. Suddenly Ellis’s warm police jacket settled over me and his hands squeezed my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Verity. I should have noticed you were cold. It’s time we went inside.”

  Nellie’s face lit up as if she’d witnessed the rapture. “Will you both excuse me? I have many, many phone calls to make.”

  “Knock yourself out,” Ellis muttered.

  I stood, stunned, with his hands still on my shoulders. He might welcome the chaos that came with pushing her buttons, but I didn’t. Thanks to my ex-almost-mother-in-law, I had a hard enough time trying to fit into the Sugarland community without this. It was just like Ellis to do what he felt needed to be done, damn the consequences.

  Irrational guilt seared my stomach as she crossed the street to the silver Lincoln Town Car parked opposite my land yacht. It wasn’t as if she’d caught us at anything, I reminded myself.

  We were barely dating, and I was only beginning to rebuild my reputation in town. What could Nellie do to me that Virginia hadn’t done already? I shuddered to find out. Ellis had certainly picked the wrong time to be a gentleman.

  “Don’t let her bother you,” he said tightly, helping me with the sleeves so I could feel the full heat of the jacket.

  “You can’t ask me to stop feeling.” Maybe I should have been thicker-skinned or smarter or untouchable. But I wasn’t. Her words stung. Virginia’s threats scared me, despite Ellis’s reassurances. I couldn’t help that. I turned toward the library, lest either of them see the hurt I wore too plainly. I wasn’t some warrior woman. I was just a regular person and proud of it.

  I didn’t want to be an outcast in my boyfriend’s family or in the town that I loved. I shoved my hands into the warm, fleece-lined pockets of Ellis’s jacket as I started up the wide, stone stairs to the library.

  He joined me. “It has nothing to do with you.”

  “You’re sweet to say that,” I told him, snuggling deeper into his warm jacket. We both knew it wasn’t true. My reputation’s downward spiral began when Virginia Wydell had gone after me for rejecting her youngest son. “What was your mother doing at your place anyway?” She wasn’t the type to visit. She usually summoned her sons to the family estate.

  He took the next two steps in silence. “Yesterday, I found out that I applied for Yale Law School. Mom’s doing. You think she could have come clean before the acceptance letter came. Beau dropped her off to do damage control. Or maybe he just wanted to see if I’d let her in the door.”

  I gave him a wide-eyed stare. “Wow.” Leave it to Virginia Wydell to be that gutsy. I grinned to myself. I’d known Ellis was smart, but I didn’t realize he had that kind of ability. “You’re happy on the force, though, right?”

  His expression hardened. “Of course. I’ve never wanted to do anything else.” He stared straight ahead. “She dug up my old LSATs. She forced one of my dad’s law clerks to answer the essay questions.”

  Imagine if Virginia Wydell chose to use her po
wers for good, instead of…this. “She’s got to know by now she can’t change you.”

  He opened the door to the library for me. “That doesn’t mean she’ll stop trying. My brothers have fallen into line. Beau stopped chasing you.” He shrugged stiffly, and I could hear the hurt in his voice. “Now she’s going to fix me.”

  I paused in the doorway. “I’m sorry.”

  He tried to wave it off like it was nothing. “She needs to feel in control of something.” I entered the library and he followed. “At least I managed to dodge the decorator she hired for my place,” he added, his voice echoing in the high-ceilinged lobby. “She gave the damned woman my key. I had to change my locks. Now I’ve got to finish busting out a wall.”

  Okay, this was one area where I agreed with Virginia that he could improve, but not by force. We headed past the displays of quilting books and British-style mysteries. “Tell her to cut it out.”

  “The ideal solution for sure. Too bad my mother doesn’t respond to reason or logic,” he said. “What gets me is that my place does look better without that wall between the kitchen and the dining room,” he added, with a measure of irritation.

  I cringed. “I could see that,” I admitted. It would open up the space. Heavens, though. It bothered me that he’d followed her advice, that he’d take her opinion, even if it was about a wall.

  He paused at the entrance to the main reading room. “Look, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  No doubt.

  “There’s Melody,” I said, waving at my sister, who stood behind the long, wooden reference desk at the back.

  A group of patrons passed us on the way out. By the time the main doors boomed closed behind them, Melody had made her way over.

  Today she wore her blond hair in a side braid that made her look like a Disney princess, with a pink flower pen tucked behind her ear. She glanced from me to Ellis and back to me again in a way I knew meant plenty of questions later.

  “How are you holding up?” she asked, folding me into a sisterly embrace while giving a short tug on my hair, same as she did when we were growing up.