The Truth About Mallory Bain (34 page)

“It's behind us, except I don't understand how you could believe I'd do that.”

“You were gone, and Dana spun her lie like a pro.”

“I think Harwood realized how mad she is,” I said.

“I agree. Grant and I've been wondering about him for months, especially after I thought I saw him in your driveway.” “The Fowlers say he's fine.”

“Can't believe them,” said Ben. “My guess is he's not.”

“You moving to Canada would have made more sense. Why are you here?”

“Grant and I were compelled to find Jack. Our lives were in flux so we decided to start looking where we last saw him. Grant was convinced he's dead.”

“‘Compelled' means more than you know.”

“How so?”

“Ronnie and I have had strange experiences over the spring and summer. Caleb, too. All three of us have been compelled to do things, say things, move back here.”

“Then you and Ronnie think Harwood is dead?”

“He has to be, since you and Grant are alive.”

“Grant has been searching for years. Harwood is not out there.”

I frowned, realizing the more I heard, the more I believed our friend was dead. “Dana and Erik insist he's not in the United States.”

“The Internet is everywhere; Harwood is nowhere.”

“Maybe he's isolated. Freelancing.”

Ben furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Knowing Jack, he'd go where news is happening.”

“Unless he's embedded.”

“Not for seven years.” His jaw set. His voice was firm. “Grant and I last saw him walk out your front door with a rolled-up newspaper under his arm. He and Erik got into Dana's car and drove off.”

I swallowed hard. “A rolled-up newspaper.”

“Yeah. That mean something?”

Goosebumps covered my arms. “The morning of my divorce, I saw a man carrying a rolled newspaper. Maybe a ghost, because he was dressed in white. I thought then he dressed in white for the hot day.” I paused a moment, remembering. “My attorney finagled my car at the last minute for Caleb and me. Now I think the man in white compelled my attorney to ask Chad for the car. I keep dreaming about a man carrying a rolled newspaper under his arm.”

“Strange.”

“Even more now that I'm certain the man in my dreams really is a ghost. Caleb carried a newspaper like that once. He said a man told him to carry it. Nobody ever sees this man he sees.” I recalled Caleb's words and repeated them to Ben. “Caleb said, “‘he said my dad will understand.'”

“I do understand.” Ben rubbed his palms on his pant legs. “We think Jack died and he's been trying to talk to Grant and me.”

“And Ronnie, and Caleb, and me, too.”

Ben squeezed my hand. “Which means he brought all of us together again.”

“My aunt Judith says he has a message.”

“That may be, but we're not connecting.”

“My aunt claims she's a medium. She also claims the spirit has a warning that we're in danger of being killed and he wants justice.”

Ben paused a moment and cleared his throat. “Here's the deal, Mallory. I just got you back, with that great, added little bonus over
there on the tire. When I tell you all that's been happening to Grant and me, I'm thinking you'll call me crazy and send me packing.”

I patted his arm. “Not a chance. When it concerns ghost phenomena, your son and I are in deep.”

“I don't want to be apart from you two.”

“We're living here for now. You can, too.”

Ben chortled. “There are your parents. Your dad will call my bike a reckless hunk of junk again. He'll probably lock the doors on me.”

“My dad wouldn't do that.” I intertwined my fingers with his. “But you don't know. Dad died the month Caleb was born. Mom is seeing Carl now.”

“Carl is?”

I laughed. “Sort of a friend.”

“Then I hope she'll agree to my staying here.”

“And she'll be glad you're alive. She liked you best, you know.”

Ben gestured toward the tire swing. “I hope he does, too.”

“Of course. You're his dad.”

C
arl was sorting drapery hooks at the kitchen table when I walked into the house. Mom stood at the stove across the room with her back to us.

“You kids almost missed lunch.” Carl separated a pile of smaller hooks from the larger ones.

I left the door open behind me. “I hope we're not late.”

“Nope. I take it you've been busy.”

“You will never guess.” Ben and Caleb were kidding around on the porch. “Mom, you need to come over here and sit down a minute.”

“Something good, I hope.”

“Fantastic.” I opened the storm door, and Caleb jumped into the house. Ben followed. “Remember him?”

Mom threw her hands up to her face and pushed back her chair. “It can't be!” She ambled over to Ben, patted his chest, and cradled his face in her hands. “You aren't dead. Mallory, you have to call Judith!”

Ben chortled. “I never died, Mrs. Bain.”

“I can see that, but I don't understand.”

“We were lied to, Mom.”

She stepped back, took in a deep breath, and paused to take it all in. When she grasped the meaning of what we'd said, she glanced down at Caleb. “Wash up for lunch, little man.” He obeyed and ran to the powder room off the foyer. “Who did such an awful thing?”

“Dana Norris,” said Ben. “She lied to break us up.”

Carl shoved his glasses on top of his head. He scooted his chair back.

“This is Ben Holland, Carl,” said Mom. “He's not dead. Remember, I told you he's that nice Canadian young man Mallory knew before Caleb was born.”

Carl stood partway to shake Ben's hand, then sat back down.

“Half Canadian. My mother is from Thief River Falls.”

“That's right. I knew that.” Mom stepped beside me and whispered, “Does he know about Caleb?”

My smile fixed on my face. “Yes, Mom. Ben knows, Caleb knows, you and Carl know. Everybody knows Caleb is Ben's son.”

Ben cleared his throat and rubbed his fingers across his forehead.

I touched his arm. “What?”

“Question is, does Dana know?”

My stomach soured. “Yes.”

“That's unfortunate,” Carl spoke up, looking up at Ben, who stood there open-mouthed. “You must know her motive for lying.”

“She wanted me with her,” said Ben. “She wanted Mallory out of the way.”

“And we
were
out of her way until we moved back.”

“Huh.” Carl snapped his fingers and tapped the tip of his forefinger on the table. He stared up at Ben. “She knows Caleb is your boy. Not good.”

“What is it, Carl? What is not good?” asked Mom.

“All of it. Ronnie run down. I told you, Diane, the driver knows her. That parking lot ordeal was intentional. Mallory falling asleep at the wheel and hitting that lamppost was no accident, either.” Carl pointed his finger at me. “Somebody drugged you before you got into that car.”

“Dana drugged you?” asked Ben.

I ran my fingers through my hair, panicked knowing all of the personal information that I'd shared with her.

Carl continued. “Another time, Mallory ended up in the emergency room with food poisoning and sedation again. And now that fella of hers is dead.”

My hand flew to my mouth.

Ben stiffened his stance. “Who died?”

I jumped in before either Carl or Mom. I wanted to explain Lance to him privately. “A friend of Erik's. Lance Garner. We dated for a few weeks. He died recently. Poisoned.”

Ben winced, his expression pained. “People poisoned. Drugged. People run down and dead. Sounds like nobody is safe around here.”

“Mallory was poisoned,” said Diane. “I've said all along she's being doped.”

“Mom. Please.”

“Your Lance was probably drugged, too.” Carl waggled his finger. “Too many accidents lining up to call coincidence.”

“Ronnie thinks Dana pushed her off a ladder few months ago.” I looked at Ben. “Lance suspected Dana had poisoned me. He switched his dinner plate with mine the last time we had dinner with the Fowlers.”

Carl stared up at Ben and me. “I
am
a retired cop.”

My eyes opened wide with surprise. “Mom never said.”

“Retired last winter.”

“I answered the detective's questions, Carl. It would have been wrong to say we blame the Fowlers.”

“You did right. The investigation is up to them to uncover a murder, not you. But what I want to know is what Dana told Ben years ago.”

After we shared our stories with Carl and Mom had served lunch, Ben and I drove over to see Jack Grant and to pick up a few of Ben's things. Jack was speechless. He greeted me with laughter infused with joyful tears. The three of us spent nearly an hour catching up on our lost time before we began discussing spirit encounters.

The laughter ceased. Grant grew serious. “Say we imagine for argument's sake that we have a mutual acquaintance who died.”
He plopped down in a black leather club chair across from us. “And let's say their spirit is reaching out from the grave to all of us.”

“And Caleb,” I added.

Grant nodded. “Your little guy, too. Because he is son to both of you. A connection. And now you and Ben are together again.”

I nodded.

“A child might be easier to reach because his thoughts aren't as complex as an adult's are,” said Ben.

“Good point. But the timing of this ghost contacting us confuses me,” said Grant. “Except, his message may reveal how he died.”

“Ronnie and I think the ghost is Harwood,” I said.

“Their ideas make sense, Jack,” said Ben. “Not much different from what we've been thinking.”

I looked back and forth between them. “Harwood was young and healthy. He could have died accidentally.”

“Or was murdered,” said Ben.

“Or he was not healthy,” said Grant.

“My aunt says the spirit haunting at Mom's is seeking justice. Aunt Judith dabbles in spiritualism.” I rolled my eyes. “She thinks she has a ‘gift.'”

Grant rested his chin on his fist. “I wonder if the spirit is seeking justice for his murder. We might consider that Jack Harwood was murdered. Begs the question, by whom and how?”

I brought them up to speed on everything Ronnie, Caleb, and I understood about the presence, his whisperings, and his promptings. I described our experiences and reminded them that I had not shared much of anything with my mother, to keep her from worrying. I shared nearly all details with Ben and Jack Grant. I even spoke openly about Lance.

“Sounds like you two were close,” said Ben.

My mind drifted through the events of the past month, Dana's soirée to standing in rain at the cemetery.

“The Fowlers introduced us a few weeks ago, and we'd only started getting to know each other when he died.”

“You weren't serious?” asked Ben.

“This sounds private.” Grant stepped into the kitchen.

“We likely would have become serious,” I said. “I won't lie. I liked him a lot. He was good to us.”

Ben quieted and momentarily withdrew into his thoughts. “Then, like me, he died and left you hurting again.”

“I am hurting and now I'm also happy. But the way I see it, Dana killed both of you, one way or another.” My eyes welled with tears for Lance I did not want to shed in front of Ben. “His death may have saved my life.”

He laid my head against his shoulder, kissed the bridge of my nose. “When was his funeral?”

“Last week.”

He tipped his head back. “No wonder you've been crying most of the afternoon.”

“It's been a tough two weeks.”

“Had we never reconnected, I'm glad to know my family would have been in good hands with him.”

“I worried you'd be jealous.”

“I am jealous. But I'm all right with him knowing you. He made you happy after Chad. You deserved to love again. You did nothing wrong to me; you didn't even know I was alive.”

“After one of our dates, the man in my dreams accused me of betrayal. Now I think he meant I betrayed you.”

Ben sighed heavily. “Only because the spirit knows I'm alive. He was trying to tell you.”

I sat upright and patted his chest. “Thanks for understanding. Hey, Grant. Did you get lost in there?”

He rejoined us with phone to his ear, then ended the call. “Sorry. Company call. Linked to the job twenty-four seven.”

Ben nudged me. “Hotshot exec over there. Company phone and personal phone. How many calls do you get in one day?”

“More than you, without a doubt. Never take the company phone on dates. Always stays in the car.”

Ben stood. “I need water. Let me get you a refill on the diet pop.”