Mr Wilmott Gets Old School Page 5

  “What on earth do you think you’re doing out here at this time of night?” a man’s voice asked from behind Emily.

  With a shimmer, the boys disappeared, melting into the ground like snowmen under a summer sun.

  Emily turned, the new spike of fear returning the gift of movement. PC Perry stood with his feet wide apart, one hand on his belt and the other on the handle of his baton.

  “This is an active crime scene,” he said with a scowl. “If you don’t give me a good excuse for being here, I’m dragging you down to the station right now.”

  Chapter Six

  “I just want to talk to the sergeant,” Emily repeated for the fifth time. “I understand he’s not in the station now, but I’m happy to go home and come back when he is.” She yawned, showing the reason she preferred that option.

  Except it wasn’t a choice on offer. PC Perry fixed her with the same glare he’d bestowed on her since finding her in the Stoneybrook grounds. Truth be told, it was wearing a bit thin.

  “Until you tell me what you were doing, I’m not releasing you.”

  “But you said I wasn’t under arrest,” Emily said, tapping her finger on the table. “If I’m free to go, then that’s what I want to do.”

  “You’re not under arrest, yet,” Perry responded. He put such malicious emphasis on the last word Emily clasped her arms closer around her chest. “If you’d prefer to be in that situation, I can oblige. I’ve got reasonable enough grounds to charge you with trespass and interfering with a police investigation.”

  “I didn’t interfere with anything.” Emily sat back in her chair and shot him a dirty look. “And how is it trespass when nobody told me I couldn’t visit?”

  “You were sneaking around at midnight. Do you seriously want to pretend you thought anyone at Stoneybrook Acres welcomed your night time escapade?”

  “It’s not even midnight now. You’re exaggerating.”

  The PC flapped his hand at her—whatever. “If you don’t want to talk to me now, then you can spend the night in a cell.”

  The choice didn’t sound all that bad. As Emily’s mouth split open into another gigantic yawn, she half closed her eyes and imagined the bliss of lying down. Then she sat straight up. No. It wouldn’t do at all to walk out of the station tomorrow, with everyone knowing she’d spent the night.

  Gossip was something to avoid at any cost.

  “If I talk to you—even though it’s the truth—you’re not going to believe me.” Emily also felt sure he’d make fun of her and the last thing her nerves needed was his raucous laughter.

  “Try me.” PC Perry sat back in his chair, arms folded. Hardly the picture of someone open to whatever Emily had to say.

  “The sergeant will be better. We’ve already discussed some of what I’ll say.”

  But Perry wasn’t about to be put off. The glee on his face when he’d folded Emily into the back seat of the patrol car had told her everything she needed to know on that score.

  She opened her mouth, almost ready to say the words, then closed her lips together in a hard line and shook her head. No. There was no chance he’d believe her, and she needed someone to take her seriously.

  If her suspicions were correct, and the teenage ghosts she’d seen earlier this evening were buried on the property near the first body, then she needed a policeman who’d take action—not laugh.

  “It’s Sergeant Winchester or nobody. Arrest me if you’re going to. Otherwise, let me go home and get some sleep.”

  Emily didn’t expect the bluff to work. She’d already resigned herself to a night in a cell followed by an attempt to sneak out without anyone seeing her tomorrow.

  “Fine. I’ll let you go home for the night, but let me tell you”—PC Perry stabbed his finger towards her—“if I or any other officer catch you on the retirement home grounds again at night, you won’t get the same leniency. You need to stay away from there and I don’t expect to tell you again.”

  She could have argued the point but by now her brain was buzzing with lack of sleep. Emily nodded, trying her best to look chagrined, then followed him out of the interview room to the front desk.

  “Sign here,” the officer barked, pointing next to the entry logging her in. “No leaving town in the meantime. If you don’t answer the sergeant when he calls in the morning, we’ll put out an immediate alert.”

  Emily smiled at the thought she’d have anywhere else to go. The only people she knew—apart from a brother whose existence often slipped her mind altogether—lived and worked in Pinetar. If she turned up on the doorstep of her old colleagues from Christchurch, they’d be horrified.

  A niggling part of her mind thought that would be a good enough reason to do just that. The more sensible half shut it down. A lack of sleep often engaged her sense of mischief but no good could come from roaming down that track.

  “Thank you,” Emily said, surprised at how heartfelt the simple statement of gratitude was. “When I talk to Sergeant Winchester, I’ll be sure to mention how accommodating you were.”

  “Don’t go overboard,” Perry said, his nose wrinkling. Still, a small blush lit up his cheeks before she pushed away from the counter and opened the door.

  As she stepped out into the cooling night air, Emily remembered her car was still parked on the road outside Stoneybrook. Luckily, her home wasn’t too far away. A benefit of living in such a small town.

  Sergeant Winchester got out of the car and walked around to the rear door to let Emily out. “I hope this doesn’t backfire on me,” he grumbled, as she clambered out with no grace.

  Although she’d managed a few hours of sleep after PC Perry let her leave the station, morning had come far too quickly for Emily’s body to recover fully. “I promise you, I’m not keen on anything that makes me appear foolish. Although I can’t swear for certain there’ll be anything there, nothing else makes sense.”

  “Believe me,” the sergeant said, leading the way around the side of the home and along to the crime scene. “This doesn’t make sense either. The sooner we get these spots dug up, the happier I’ll be.”

  Emily had her mouth half opened to remind him that the police needed to investigate any reputable lead about a body. She closed it again because he was already doing that. The fact Winchester chose to do it with such bad grace didn’t matter.

  “Right. Where are we digging?”

  When she’d returned home the previous night, she’d expected her bedroom to be crowded out with all the spirits. Instead, not even Cynthia had made it back.

  Apart from Peanut, who’d happily curled up on the bed next to her, she hadn’t seen another ghost since.

  Long may it last!

  After taking a step back, Emily half closed her eyes to better remember the position of the boys the night before. She moved to the spot she recalled the first hand appearing and spun her heel in the lawn to make a mark. From there, she checked her position against the far wall and walked a few steps away to the second, then the third.

  “And you’re sure about this?” The sergeant glanced at her with a pleading expression. “If we start digging now, we’ll have to include it on a report. It’ll be added to the official case file for the original skeleton.”

  He didn’t say the last words, but Emily heard it in her mind. It’ll never go away.

  “I’m sure.”

  While the sergeant signalled for the digging crew to begin, Emily walked to the entrance of Stoneybrook. She’d already checked with Winchester to make sure she didn’t need to stay and watch throughout the entire thing. Given the strain of the previous day and night, she’d much rather wait inside and catch up with Agnes and Maude.

  Margaret gave her a smile of recognition as Emily walked past her. She nodded back but didn’t slow her gait. Luckily, Agnes had the door to her room ajar, so she didn’t have to gather the courage to knock. The woman appeared pleased to see her and ushered her inside.

  “So far, it’s good news,” Agnes said with a jerk of
her chin towards Maude. “The director was in such a tizzy yesterday after the awful find and the police swarming about, he just told me to keep her out of the way until a final decision could be made.

  “That’s terrific. If he lets it go for a few days, it’ll make it much harder to say no.”

  “And the woman from yesterday, Suzanne, she’s changed her tune. Stopped by this morning to say how nice it’ll be for Conker to have company.”

  “I bet she’s hoping everyone puts out of their minds exactly what her dog had in his mouth!”

  They giggled together, the horror of the situation igniting their sense of humour. Maude joined in, panting.

  “What are they doing out there, today?” Agnes asked. “I saw you talking to the guy in charge earlier.”

  “Sergeant Winchester. They’re digging in a few different spots, just to see if there’s evidence they’ve missed.”

  “I hope today they also remember the pipe that caused the upheaval in the first place.” Agnes patted her hair. “I couldn’t stand to stay in the shower this morning. The water just dribbled out. I think if I’d washed my hair, I’d still be in there rinsing.”

  “Hm.” Emily took a seat on the edge of the bed. “I bet the police either forgot or nobody informed them what the guy was doing here yesterday. They might’ve thought he was just breaking up the patio.”

  Agnes stood up, smoothing her skirts down and adjusting the neck of her blouse. “In that case, I’m going to talk to Mr Homeaway. I put up with this sort of nonsense when I was younger and couldn’t afford any better. There’s no reason for me to suffer quietly when I’m paying out an arm and a leg.”

  Maude jumped up with an alert expression on her face as Agnes walked out of the room. After a moment, Emily shrugged and also tagged along.

  Allain wasn’t in his office and Margaret didn’t know where he’d gone. “I saw him earlier, around the back in the hospital facility. He might still be hiding away down there.”

  It didn’t help Emily any but luckily, Agnes knew the rooms the receptionist was talking about. “It’s out the other side of the nurse’s station,” she explained as they headed along a different corridor. “They keep the assisted and unassisted rooms on opposite sides of the complex. I’m not sure why.”

  As they emerged into the second part of the Stoneybrook home, Emily understood completely why they kept the two halves separate. On this side, it looked like a zombie apocalypse had taken hold of the residents. She knew her limp got bad sometimes, but the shuffling walk common to the first half-dozen people was ridiculous.

  As they walked farther into the halls, Emily edged closer to Agnes.

  “I think there’s a common room on this side, too,” the older lady said as they took turns, seemingly at random. “Unless he’s visiting a specific person, I’d guess we’ll find Mr Homeaway in there.”

  Emily wished she’d stayed behind. The view out the window at the digging might be nerve-inducing but not nearly so much as walking about Stoneybrook on this side.

  “Shall we go back?” she’d just asked when Agnes gripped her arm and pointed.

  “Here we go. When I took the tour a month ago, I thought I’d never get the handle of this layout but now I’m here, it’s pretty straightforward.”

  Since Emily doubted she’d be able to find her way back, she kept mute and nodded.

  The common room held a half-dozen people with room for another thirty or more. Each resident sat by themselves, some nodding along to music only they could hear, others staring intently at the new arrivals.

  “What’s wrong with them?” Emily asked a second before she flagged the question as rude.

  Agnes gave her a sharp look but answered. “Most of the residents over this side suffer from dementia. There are varying levels but a lot of them require around the clock care.”

  Emily nodded, feeling the fear encasing her in a block of cold cement. This will be you one day. Take a good look.

  A nurse walked up to them with a frown. “Can I help you with something?”

  “I’m searching for Mr Homeaway. Margaret said she’d seen him come over here.”

  The nurse retreated half a step, her mouth twisting. “Not that I’ve seen. Have you tried outside? There’s a bunch of activity going on in the garden.” Her gaze travelled to a window along that side of the home where a woman was standing, staring at the lawn. “I’ll be glad when they fix the pipes out there and move on. It’s disturbing some of our residents.”

  “They’ve found—”

  Emily cut off when Agnes gave her an elbow in the side. “Thanks anyway. Is it all right if we hang around for a while?”

  The nurse shrugged. “As long as you don’t bother anyone, it’s free access.”

  She walked away, her sensible white shoes squeaking even though the floor was carpeted. Emily stared after her with a feeling of dread. One day, she’ll be the only person taking care of you.

  “I wonder if they’ve found anything,” Agnes said as she crossed to the window. The woman there stepped aside but didn’t tear her gaze away from the scene. “It’s all such dreadful timing. I thought the worst I’d have to deal with this week was moving, not a view out onto an unmarked grave.”

  “The oak tree,” the woman at the window said in a halting voice as Emily joined them.

  She followed where the lady’s trembling finger pointed. The large oak with the scars twisting around its lower trunk. “It’s lovely, isn’t it? I love when trees grow so large, they dwarf everything around them.”

  “Cut it down.” The woman jabbed her finger in quick motions, her nail tapping off the window. “Chop the tree down.”

  Agnes laughed. “Well, that’s you told, Emily. Not everyone shares your point of view.”

  The woman grew more animated. In a second, she was slapping her entire palm against the window. “Fetch the axe. Cut it down.”

  Emily took a step back, cupping her elbows. “Okay, I take it back. It’s a horrible tree and someone should get rid of it.”

  Her words placated the elder woman and her arms dropped down to her side. “There’s Fred.”

  Agnes arched her eyebrow as she studied the lady’s face. “Who’s Fred?” She looked back outside. “All I can see is policemen. Did you mean Bobbies?”

  As Emily peered over the woman’s shoulder, she saw the male ghost from the night before standing in the middle of the activity. He clapped as one man loosened the soil with a long iron pole before another shovelled out the dirt.

  She put a hand on the lady’s shoulder and pointed at the ghost. “Is that Fred?”

  The woman turned, her watery blue eyes taking a second to focus on Emily’s face. She was halfway to a smile when her eyes widened, and she jerked away, banging once more on the window. “Fetch the axe.”

  The nurse from earlier poked her head out of the doorway to the medical station. “What’s going on out here? Gladys, are these ladies bothering you?”

  Gladys nodded vigorously while Emily took a step away, holding her hands up to either side. “We didn’t mean to upset her.”

  “I don’t think it was us,” Agnes said with a hint of indignation. “That lot out there are the ones digging up the garden. If anyone’s causing bother, it’s them.”

  A yell from outside backed up her words. The man responsible ran over the far side of the property, leaping over a short gate beside a shed and pelting toward the group at a sprint.

  Even through the glass, Emily could hear the words. “What d’you think you’re doing?”

  Sergeant Winchester stepped forward, a hand up signalling the man to stop. Instead, the runner sidestepped the officer and kept sprinting towards the excavation.

  “You can’t just go digging up my lawn. It took me ages to get it nice and tidy.”

  The new arrival stopped short when he reached the police tape and his mouth dropped open as he took in the broken chunks of concrete where there’d been a patio the day before.

  “What have y
ou done? That’s the barbeque area. You can’t just wander on here and start messing stuff about. I’ve worked weeks getting this area nice. Who gave you the authority to come in here and destroy all my hard work?”

  “The owner of the property,” the sergeant called out, striding towards the man and placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Now, how about you follow me—?”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I want you to stop all this at once. Why’re you doing this?”

  He was so distraught, Emily thought for one moment he was about to burst into tears.

  “Who’s that?” she asked Agnes.

  “It’s Eli Jamieson, the gardener,” the nurse replied after a quick glance. “And it’s time you two headed back to your own ward. I have enough trouble keeping tabs on the residents over this side without you upsetting them.”

  “We didn’t—”

  The nurse gave Emily such a harsh glare the words died in her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said instead in a meek voice. “We’ll head back.”

  “And don’t bring your dog over here again,” the nurse said with a sniff. “It’s dirty. Now I’ll have to get the janitor to clean down all the floors.”

  Agnes opened her mouth, an expression of fury transforming her features, but Emily pulled her away from the oncoming confrontation. “Don’t worry. Maude doesn’t like it over here any more than we do,” she muttered, earning a quick snort from her friend.

  “That woman. Honestly.” Agnes set off at such a clip down the corridor, Emily struggled to keep pace. “I hope I die before I get sent into her care. What a witch!”

  “I’m sure she cares a lot about her patients,” Emily said, not at all certain but wanting to calm her friend. “Besides, we’re still on the hunt for Mr Homeaway so staying there won’t help at all.”

  “Hm.” Agnes pursed her lips. “Yes, well I can’t be running all over the place trying to track him down. I’m going to stick to my room and watch all the action unfolding in front of me.”

  “Can I come too?”

  “Of course, you can. And Maude.” The dog raised her face up with interest upon hearing her name. “You’re allowed to come to. It’ll be like a party.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except without food or music or booze.”