Close to Home Read online

  “Oh? I can’t figure what I would have said earlier that could be interesting as all that.”

  “You’d be surprised. At least, I was. I have to wonder if you know more about Arthur Phillip than you let on to me.”

  He pursed his lips, a little smile hiding at the corners of his eyes. “Now, Arthur Phillip is a subject that I admit to knowing quite a bit about, in truth. Admiral in the Royal Navy in the late 1700s. First Governor of New South Wales. In fact, the man founded the penal colony that would eventually become our own dear Sydney. There’s a statue of him in the Royal Botanic Gardens there, although I dare say it’s not a fair likeness.”

  “No, Heeral, I mean…” I was at a loss for a moment. “Not the real Arthur Phillip. I know our history as well as the next Aussie, but I’m talking about the canine Arthur Phillip. Not the man.”

  “Ah, I see. Yes. Poor Pastor Albright’s stolen dog.”

  “Stolen? So you don’t think the dog ran away?”

  “The way Jonas doted on his little furry pet?” Heeral shook his head and rocked his cane back and forth. “No. Arthur Phillip, the dog, may have been a stray at the first, but once he was here he had no reason to stray again, I can tell you that. No. The dog is missing because someone took him away from here.”

  “Did you take him?”

  My direct question prompted Heeral’s eyebrows to shoot up his forehead. “Now, why would you ask me that, my dear?”

  “Because you seemed to know where I should start looking.”

  His eyebrows settled, just a little. “Did I, now.”

  “You sent me to the ends of the Earth.”

  “Ah. Some would say that’s precisely where we are now, wouldn’t they? The ends of the Earth, right here in Tasmania. Only place further south is Antarctica, after all.”

  “You like riddles, don’t you Heeral?”

  “So do you, Dell. Always in the thick of things, aren’t we? Mysteries abound here in Lakeshore. Even so, you seem to find more than your fair share of them.”

  Not a lot I could say to that. He was right. The really bizarre thing was that I was actually beginning to enjoy the sleuthing. It was one of the reasons I had agreed to look for the missing Arthur Phillip. That, and because I wanted to help a friend.

  “That’s the other thing about you,” he said to me, as if reading my thoughts. “Always there for your friends. Trouble has a way of finding the helpful and the curious.”

  “Isn’t that the truth. So. Tell me. Why’d you send me to Revelation Street? That happens to be right where Barnaby Thorne lives. The boy who was here working off his probation.”

  “Hmm.” Heeral rocked his cane again. “I don’t recall sending you anywhere. Perhaps you’re mistaken?”

  “You told me I might have to go to the ends of the Earth to find the dog,” I reminded him.

  “Ah, I see. And the book of Revelations details the end of the world. My, my. Quite the leap in logic you’ve made there.”

  He smiled widely at me, and I suddenly felt foolish. I had been so sure that Heeral had been secretly trying to tell me some secret message, which of course meant that he had to be hiding something. Now I just felt like I’d been jumping to conclusions. My mind had been so distracted. My heart, too. James had been a good salve for my troubled emotions. I had thought this little investigation I’d taken on would be a good way to ease my mind as well.

  “I’m sorry, Heeral. I didn’t mean to go accusing you of anything.”

  He raised a hand. “Quite all right. You’re doing your best for a friend. No apologies necessary. One must follow their instincts. Go where their line of sight takes them, as it were.”

  “Well they’ve led me right back here, my brilliant instincts have.” I leaned back in the uncomfortable pew, and now it was my turn to look up front to the altar. If I was expecting inspiration it wasn’t forthcoming. “So you don’t know anything else about the pastor’s dog?”

  “Nothing but what I’ve already told you.” He shrugged. “Are you sure you want to put more time into this? It is just a dog, after all.”

  “No,” I argued immediately. “This means a lot to Jonas. He’s a quiet man, but he’s also very proud, in his own way. He wouldn’t have come asking for my help if he didn’t really care about Arthur Phillip. It means a lot to him, so I’m letting it mean a lot to me.”

  His hand reached out and laid itself on my shoulder. “You’re a good friend, Dell.”

  “Heh. I think you told me that once before.”

  “Must be I mean it. I choose friends very carefully.”

  “Are we friends, Heeral?”

  “Why, Dell, I think we just might be heading down that path.”

  His hand was cold and heavy where it rested. Not uncomfortable, just… odd, sort of like the rest of the man. “You and Jonas are friends.” I didn’t ask it as a question. Heeral was always here at the church. He and Jonas must be more than just friends.

  There was a pause that I didn’t quite understand before Heeral answered me. “Jonas and I have known each other for a very long time. We’re practically inseparable.”

  “How’d you meet him?”

  Again a pause while Heeral removed his hand. Warmth returned like it was filling a vacuum. “It was years ago. In a place not all that far away from here. That was before Jonas was a pastor, of course.”

  “Really?” That took me by surprise. “I didn’t know Jonas was ever anything else.”

  “Oh, of course!” he chuckled. “It’s not like he’s a Catholic priest. Most of the men who fill those posts are priests from University. In contrast, a lot of pastors come to the calling late. After a life-altering moment, of course. That’s how it was with our friend Jonas Albright.”

  He had a way of telling a story that pulled me into it, and no doubt. “So what was Jonas’s life-altering event?”

  “Ah!” Heeral thumped his cane against the rug. “Now, that’s another story. For another time. It may be one that Jonas has to tell you himself. Ask him sometime. It’s well worth the tale. And, truth be told, I believe he needs to tell it.”

  “Where is Jonas?”

  “Off sleeping,” he answered with a nod toward the door that led to Jonas’s personal rooms. “I wasn’t very tired, myself.”

  Well. That was everything I was going to get, apparently, and it was obvious that I’d been way off base in accusing Heeral of anything. If he’d done anything to the pastor’s dog then he wouldn’t still be sitting here, spending time in Jonas’s church. Jonas wouldn’t allow it.

  So I was back to Barnaby Thorne, who insisted he didn’t have Arthur Phillip. James and I had both been to the Thorne house. I hadn’t heard—or smelled—any hint of dog. James had gone in the house and hadn’t seen anything either. The dog wasn’t there.

  I rubbed my fingers across my forehead. I was so, so tired. “I think I need to go home,” I muttered, standing and stretching. “My bed is calling me.”

  “You’ve had a day of it, no doubt.” Heeral politely stood with me, hat in hand. “Head on home. Never know what might be waiting for you next.”

  I blinked at him. No. I wasn’t going to do that again. I’d already gone down the road of trying to find extra meaning in the words of Heeral Stone. He was wishing me good night. That was all.

  I smiled at him, and went back up the aisle to the front door. I really was tired, and I really did need sleep. Maybe some food, too.

  Looking back to wish Heeral good night in return, I stumbled and caught myself against the wall. Heeral was gone. I thought to myself, again, that a man who walked with a cane shouldn’t move that quick.

  James was nodding off behind the wheel when I got back in. I got to wake him up with a kiss on the cheek. I liked it. From his little smile I could tell he liked it, too.

  “So,” he asked me. “Did ya talk to the good pastor?”

  “No. The man who was on the porch. Heeral Stone’s his name.”

  “Who?” He turned in his seat to look
up at the church with its dark, cryptic shadows.

  “The guy on the steps when we got here.” I was surprised James hadn’t seen him. Maybe he’d been nodding off already.

  At any rate he shrugged and started the car, not asking me what we’d talked about in there. I knew part of that was him being the amazing boyfriend he was. I think part of it, too, was that he knew he’d be duty bound to report anything he heard to his editor. If it was serious enough.

  Which reminded me.

  “Don’t you have a deadline to meet? I mean, my ex-husband was found dead in the Inn. That must be front page news.”

  “Like Lakeshore needs another front page story,” he snorted. “Anyway. I filed by phone hours ago. It’s the modern age, ya know. Told them everything I could. Watered it down some, though. That’s the sort of laundry doesn’t need being aired out on the line for everyone to see. Didn’t put in the part about the crystal, either, at Kevin’s request. Seeing as how it’s evidence and all. But the story’s filed. Now I’m yours for the rest of the night.”

  I liked the sound of that.

  Driving away from the church my mind went back over things that Heeral had said. The way Jonas hadn’t always been a pastor. The way the two of them had met, a story for another time. How he knew so well that I was always willing to go the extra distance for a friend and always so ready to jump into the fire when a mystery bit me on my backside.

  Then there were other little things that came back to me as we drove up Main Street past the barely-gurgling three-tiered fountain. Heeral had told me that someone unravelling a mystery had to go where their instincts took them, wherever that might be. They had to follow where things led them.

  Right down their line of sight.

  I sat up straighter, my mouth making a little gasping “…oh.”

  Chapter 7

  “So. Figured out the dog mystery, did ya?”

  “I think so.”

  In my room, warm underneath my blanket, I stretched out my body and ended up helplessly tangled with my legs around his. Arms circled my waist and pulled me in tight. It was a comfortable feeling, having him hold me like this. I was warm here, and safe, and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.

  I hadn’t felt this in years.

  We hadn’t left the lights on, but somehow there was an ambient glow all around us. It was bright enough to see Richard’s chiseled good looks as he leaned in close to kiss me good morning.

  Richard. My husband. The one who was dead.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I said to him, sleepily nuzzling up into his bare chest.

  “No. I actually should be here. I’m sorry, Dell. Sorry I can’t be here with ya like I want to be.”

  I sat up, letting the sheet fall away from the two of us, the wrongness of the whole scene suddenly hitting me over the head. “Richard?”

  “Shh,” he warned me. “Don’t want to wake everybody up.”

  “You’re here!” I threw my arms around his neck, shaking as I felt his solid body, and his warmth, and the realness of him. “I’ve missed you. Oh, Richard, I missed you so much!”

  “Missed ya too, Rainbow,” he told me, using his pet name for me. “Sorry I wasn’t here for ya.”

  “Shut up. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t your fault,” I told him, gently kissing his face. “Mick Pullman killed you. I just don’t understand why anyone would want to do that to you.”

  “Lots of people do things for the wrong reasons,” he said to me.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He shrugged, making the muscles of his chest and abs ripple. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed just sitting back and watching his body. “What I mean,” he said, “is that good people do bad things. I had the clue with me, ya know.”

  “Wait.” I sat up again. “What?”

  “The clue ya need to answer your question. I had it with me the whole time.”

  “Richard, Kevin searched you, and the plastic you were wrapped in, and the space in the walls. He didn’t find anything except a crystal.”

  “Kevin,” he smiled. “I’m so proud of our son. Senior sergeant. Quite the man he’s turned into, don’t ya think?”

  “Yes, I do, but that’s not the point! If there was some clue there that would tell us why you were killed, don’t you think he would’ve found it? Why can’t you just tell me why Mick did this?”

  “Maybe it’s because I can’t answer that question.”

  In my dream, I sighed heavily and ran both hands through my hair. Ghosts. Even when we had a direct line of communication they wouldn’t communicate directly. “Richard, please. I need to know what happened to you.”

  “Yes. You do.”

  “Then tell me!”

  He smiled, and it was just as beautiful as I remembered. He touched a finger to my lips, and traced their outline, sending a chill through me all the way down to my toes. “Kevin found the one clue ya need,” he repeated. “It’s all right there.”

  “Richard…”

  “I’m so proud of Kevin.” It was like he couldn’t even hear me anymore. “I’m proud of everything you’ve done, too, Dell. Ya always were amazing.”

  I could feel myself slipping away from the dream. It was almost over, and I still had so much I wanted to ask Richard. I wanted to spend the night in his arms, just one last time forever.

  “Gotta go, Dell. Time moves on.”

  “That’s my line,” I protested, holding fast to his hands until even they slipped away from me. “Richard, please. I love you.”

  “I love ya, too, Dell. Always will. Death won’t stop that. There’s a new love in your life now. Don’t give that up. Don’t try to hold on to what we had and lose what ya have right in front of your face.”

  I bit my lip. Holding back the tears.

  “Promise me,” he said, his voice distant now and echoing, like he was talking to me down a long, dark hallway. “Promise to let yourself love again, Rainbow.”

  Richard. My Richard.

  “I promise,” I said at last, when he was almost gone completely. This was his final gift to me. I was going to let myself take it.

  With that, I sat up in bed in my purple pajama top, gasping in a breath, waking up from the dream.

  Beside me, his legs tangled up in mine, James stirred and snorted himself awake. “Wha’s that? S’okay?”

  He was still half asleep. Maybe I was, too, or maybe that dream had been as real as the ones I’ve had with Jess. Ghosts could reach through to us in our dreams. Our subconscious, maybe. Something like that. I don’t know how these things work, I just know that they do.

  This was the first time that Richard had done it with me, but I was getting good at telling the difference between a simple dream and a message from the other side.

  “Go back to sleep, James,” I told him, with a light kiss on his forehead. “I love you.”

  “I love ya too, Dell. Always will. Death won’t stop that.”

  Then he dropped his head back onto the pillow, and was asleep instantly.

  That was what Richard had told me in my dream. The echo of my deceased husband’s words, spoken now by James, should have freaked me out. Instead, they filled me with comfort. Very few people had the second chance at love that I’d been given.

  Seems to me I said something exactly like that earlier today. Guess I just needed a little push to accept it in my heart.

  Silently I thanked Richard for showing me what real love is. What I had with him back then, led me to what I have with James now.

  I fell asleep snuggled up against James, and slept through the rest of the night undisturbed by either dream or ghostly visitation.

  My internal alarm clock woke me up.

  I slipped out of bed quietly so I wouldn’t disturb James. As a newspaper reporter, he was used to getting up early. He had news to find, deadlines to meet, cranky editors to make happy by single-handedly expanding the reach of their paper.

  But as the owner and operator of an Inn, I
was used to getting up even earlier.

  So at five in the morning, with the sky outside just starting to lighten, I tiptoed into the bathroom and quietly closed the door behind me. I didn’t lock it. James and I had moved past that little scruple a few weeks back.

  I had a lot to do today and I needed to start getting ready now. Catch up on the goings-on here at the Inn, certainly, but I had to ring Kevin and find out if Mick had said anything else, and I needed to follow up on my hunch regarding Jonas’s dog, and then… I had to finally make a phone call to Carly.

  I sighed, trying not to even think about arranging a funeral service for Richard.

  My bathroom is a little bit of the beach, with seashells on the wallpaper and seashells strategically placed on the shower curtain to hide all the important bits. The sink even has a scalloped shell shape, just for the fun of it. On one of the shelves next to the medicine cabinet mirror, an actual pink conch shell is set in place just so. James had given me that for Valentine’s Day. It meant more to me than a box of chocolates. Although those had been appreciated, too.

  I ran my hand over the smooth curves of the shell, smiling to myself, before turning to start the water streaming in the shower. I waited for it to get nice and hot, and for the steam to roll over me in waves. Then I took off my top and dropped it to the floor.

  When I turned back to the mirror, Jess had left me a message in the condensation layered over the glass.

  You might wonder how I know it’s Jess, considering she’s not the only ghost wandering around my Inn, and for all I know there’s more ghosts out in the halls to be found yet. Well. Of all of my ghostly friends, Jess is the only one that dares to come into this part of my rooms. The bathroom is off-limits to Lachlan and his thieving eyes, and he knows it. Richard… well. I can’t say that I’d be bothered by my dead husband seeing me in here, but he just never has shown himself in here before. He’s still working out how to come through to me from the other side, anyway. Guess, for now, I only get to see him in my dreams.

  Jess is always around, on the other hand. Even if I don’t see her. And she likes to leave me notes in the mirror of my shower. Just like we used to leave little notes for each other on the cork board in my room at Uni.