Hard Proof Page 3

  There was no escaping that.

  Oh, well, she’d get through this as cheerfully as she could. Being a good soldier was one way to look at it. She’d do her duty, whether she liked it or not.

  Then the man himself walked through the door with a rush of cold air. Today Steve wore his leather bomber jacket zipped up, and she couldn’t help wondering how cold it would have to get before he decided he needed a jacket or coat that would cover his butt.

  “Hi,” he said with a smile. “Ready to go?”

  “Where to?” Candy asked, rising from her chair and tossing her empty cup in a nearby trash can.

  “To visit the Castelles. Ten o’clock appointment. But hey, is there anywhere convenient I can get a decent take-out coffee?”

  That surprised her. “Haven’t you eaten yet? Everyone serves coffee.”

  “Not enough for me. Maude’s?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Come with?” he asked, raising a brow. “Or meet you back here.”

  She decided to go with him. Another chance to walk ahead of what she feared would become a problematic day. The wind hit her smack in the face when she stepped outside.

  “Whew,” she exclaimed. “When did that happen?”

  “The wind or the cold?”

  She glanced at him askance. “What do you think?”

  “Ha. You want some coffee, too?”

  After they got two tall cups full of steaming coffee, Candy asked, “Do you want me to follow in my patrol car, or do you want to ride along? Whichever you think would least worry the family.”

  He paused to look down at her. “Why would they worry? They know who I am.”

  She just shook her head, wondering if this was a taste of his ego. “The face recognized around the world?”

  That darkened his expression just a bit. “They knew who I was when they contacted me. I’ve spent hours on the phone with them. I am not exactly a stranger.”

  She couldn’t really argue with that. At this point, the Castelles probably felt they knew him better than any local cop. Especially her. Waving from a patrol car as she drove by and exchanging a few words with them at the end of their driveway hardly constituted any kind of relationship.

  “I’ll follow,” she answered briskly, warning herself not to make quick assumptions about any of this. That wasn’t part of the job, nor was needlessly annoying him.

  Outside the sheriff’s office, she climbed into her official SUV and backed out. She didn’t exactly need to follow him because she knew where the Castelles lived. He would, too, assuming his GPS navigator worked. Which was often hit-or-miss in some places around here.

  The Castelles didn’t live very far out of town. They had moved into an older house on some acreage. It had a barn, which could still be useful if they wanted to renovate it, and the house was only one story. Except this one had a steeply sloped, high roof with some windows that suggested the attic could be used as living space.

  She wished she could find out. She’d always felt some appeal in finished attics, although she’d have been hard-pressed to explain it. She certainly had never lived in a house with one.

  Sometimes her own brain made her wonder.

  Steve arrived without a problem and pulled into the long asphalt driveway. Not sure what to do at this point, Candy parked on the shoulder near the mailbox. If anyone wanted or needed her, she’d be in plain view. Sipping her coffee, grateful for its warmth, she kept an eye on the house.

  She saw Steve walk up to the front door, then disappear inside. This was not going to be an exciting morning for her.

  * * *

  STEVE GREETED ANABELLE CASTELLE with a warm smile. He hardly needed her to introduce herself since he’d already seen her on the video she’d provided. Dark hair, blue eyes, and a classic face with great bone structure that was looking a little frayed around the edges. She wore a blue flannel shirt over black slacks.

  “Where are all the people?” Anabelle asked. “I was expecting an invasion.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t I tell you? I come alone first. It makes it easier for us to talk. I need to meet the three of you, then start looking into some background.”

  She nodded, leading him toward a living room. “Have a seat. I’ll get Todd.” She paused as she turned, giving him a tired smile. “I always like the history part of your show best.”

  “Thanks.” he replied. “You look tired. Do you want me to come back another time?”

  She shook her head. “We had a rough night last night. There are quite a few of them these days.”

  Todd Castelle looked haggard, too, as he joined them. An average-size guy with the light brown hair that often indicated someone who had been blond once upon a time. His dark-haired wife had the blue eyes, though. He had the gray.

  “Why is a cop parked out front?” Todd asked. “Is something wrong?”

  Steve hastened to reassure them. “She’s my minder. They call her a liaison.” He gave a light laugh. “I don’t know if she’s supposed to help me as much as she’s supposed to reassure the people I talk to.”

  “Well, she shouldn’t have to sit out there,” Annabelle said.

  Todd agreed. “I’ll go out and get her.”

  “And I’ll make some coffee,” his wife replied. “It’s getting chilly in here. You sure that heat is working?”

  “Honey, it’s set to sixty-eight.”

  “Yeah, but I still get cold.” She rose while Todd headed to the door and gave Steve a wry look. “We argue about this year-round. I’m either too hot or too cold, and he’s always just right. Must be hormonal differences.”

  Steve wouldn’t have stepped into that potential minefield for anything, not once hormones were mentioned. But he chuckled, the safe response.

  He also wished they weren’t bringing Candy into this. He needed the time getting to know his clients without their holding anything back because someone else was listening.

  Oh, hell, he’d make up for this somehow. There’d be another interview, one without Candy, he hoped. Not that he didn’t like her well enough, considering they’d just met, but she was still an official, a cop, and few people wanted to be wholly frank while a cop listened.

  He ought to know. His years on the force weren’t that far behind him.

  Candy entered with Todd, gently refusing coffee, holding up her take-out cup as if in explanation. Soon Anabelle had them all seated in the living room, the aromas of fresh-brewed coffee filling the air.

  Steve waited a minute, then said, “Would you mind walking me through everything again? I want to be sure I haven’t missed something.”

  Annabelle looked surprised. “I thought we would do that on the show.”

  “You will, but we’ll have to edit it for length. You won’t be able to give me all the details then, but I need to be sure I don’t miss something. With or without the show, I’ll investigate fully. You can always back out anytime you want.”

  Todd and Annabelle exchanged looks. Todd nodded and spoke. “That’s what we agreed to. And if we change our minds, you’ll still investigate?”

  “Thoroughly. That’s how I got into this business in the first place.”

  Todd looked satisfied. “The intro to the show says you’re a former homicide detective.”

  “That’s right. Twelve years as a detective, and before that I was a patrol officer. I can tell you which was more interesting.”

  That drew a small laugh from Annabelle. “The intro also says that you got into this because of your policing.”

  “Not exactly. I was increasingly disturbed by the number of people who called in complaints of paranormal activity. And I was limited in what I could do. Check the premises, check the yard. It was no help at all. That’s when I started going back when I was off duty to see if I could do more.”

  Annabelle tilted her head.
“You really care that much?”

  “That’s how I wound up here. And that’s why I’m willing to go ahead with this investigation even if you decide not to do the show.”

  For the first time, Candy spoke. “That’s remarkable.”

  Steve noted there wasn’t a touch of sarcasm in her comment. Maybe he was persuading her that he wasn’t a con artist.

  He wasn’t sure about the Castelles, however. Yes, they’d called him. Yes, they’d said they would do this. But now they were looking down the barrel of having to appear on a nationally televised show. A lot of people didn’t want to take their crazy stories public.

  Then Todd surprised him. “I’m a graphic artist for comic books. Annabelle writes them. Any of our friends won’t be surprised if we get wacky over this.”

  “It’s true,” Annabelle agreed. “We’re already off-center, living in a world of superheroes and magic powers. Heck, this could be one of my scripts.”

  This time it was Steve who wondered about them. What if they weren’t on the up-and-up? What if they saw some free publicity?

  Oh, hell, a new wrinkle. But he didn’t let those thoughts show on his face. One thing about being a homicide detective, you learned to control your face and emotions unless they’d be helpful.

  “Anyway,” Todd said, “I don’t see any reason, at least not yet, why we’d back out of the show.”

  Steve returned to his original question. “Can you tell me all about it? Would you prefer to have Officer Serrano wait outside?”

  “Why?” Todd asked bluntly. “We’re proposing to take this to TV. Might as well get used to telling the world.”

  Annabelle sighed. “Where do you want me to start? Why we moved here?”

  Steve nodded.

  “Big space, cheaper cost of living. We wanted Viv and her dog to have a place to run that didn’t involve a trip to a park. Cheaper because it’s not the big city. In our job, we don’t make a whole lot, so coming here let us have more room and still live within our budget. Maybe less crime. I suppose time will answer that question.”

  Steve spoke. “And now Viv’s afraid.”

  Todd replied. “That’s killing us. We brought her here to give her a freer life but she’s scared all the time.”

  Then the story began to tumble out of them. He’d heard most of it on the phone, but he was looking for details that might have been overlooked.

  A couple of months after they moved in, Viv started talking about an invisible man in her bedroom. She said she didn’t like him and wanted him to go away. Naturally they tried sleeping in her room with her as opposed to taking her into their bed. They hadn’t wanted to encourage fanciful tales that might simply arise from the big move they’d made.

  It had been a huge change in her life, Annabelle said, and since moving was a great stressor even on adults, she had at first assumed that was what was going on.

  But when they stayed in the room, they heard nothing and saw nothing. Things quieted down, and Viv seemed to go back to normal.

  But then it started again. “The man keeps talking to me!”

  Followed by Todd and Annabelle taking turns sleeping in her room with her. Neither of them heard anything and tried to ease their way back to a more usual arrangement.

  Once again everything quieted, until the night Viv refused to calm even when they stayed with her. She began screaming and crying for them to make the man go away. Whereas she’d been afraid only at night before, her terror seemed to grow until she refused to even play in her room.

  Todd and Annabelle were totally perplexed. Viv was okay playing in the yard with her puppy, or playing in another room they had turned into a playroom, but she refused to go into her own bedroom. A handful of times she went back in there to get something she wanted, and entirely too often would come out and claim the man had talked to her again.

  But Viv had no idea what he might be saying. None. She just didn’t like his voice and especially didn’t like him being invisible.

  Eventually the Castelles had begun to wonder if their daughter had a serious problem. They took her to a highly recommended child psychologist.

  That impressed Steve. In his experience, most parents didn’t want to believe their children might have a psychological problem. The shame frightened them, as if they would turn out to be failures as parents. It often prevented action. But not for the Castelles.

  After six weeks of making the lengthy trip to see the psychologist, they got an answer that wasn’t entirely reassuring.

  Annabelle continued with the story. “The psychologist said there was absolutely nothing wrong with Viv. That it was a phase, maybe precipitated by our move, but she’d grow out of it.”

  Steve felt a burst of sympathy. “Did that make you feel better?” He suspected it hadn’t.

  “No,” Todd said bluntly. “He told us our kid isn’t mentally ill, which is great, but that she was just acting out. And while I’m no psychologist, I heard a subtext.”

  “Which was?”

  “Our daughter is having emotional problems, but temporary. That’s not a lot of string to hang on to.”

  Steve set his coffee aside on an end table and leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees. He clasped his hands, thinking and absorbing.

  “Okay,” he said presently. “That wasn’t the end of it, though.”

  “Of course not,” Todd said. “I’d already checked the basement for banging pipes, humming things, anything that might reach her room from below. Nothing. But I went and checked it all again. Useless. Hell, I even went up into the attic where there’s no plumbing or wiring except for several bulbs at the top of the stairs.”

  Annabelle spoke again. “In one way I think that psychologist was all wet. Viv’s not acting out. If she were doing that, she’d be acting out in every other room in this house. She’d even act out at school sometimes. She’s not.”

  Todd nodded agreement. “That doesn’t seem like a useful explanation.”

  “It’s not,” Annabelle said firmly. “What’s more, the problem didn’t go away.”

  Steve waited. “How did you know that?”

  “Because Viv walked by her bedroom one evening and said she heard the man singing.”

  “Singing!” That startled Steve a bit. It was a new claim to him. Crying, yes. Shouting, yes. Talking, knocking, moving things, but this was the first he’d heard of singing.

  “Yeah,” said Todd almost wryly. “Weird. Weirder than the rest.” He sighed, passing a hand over his face. “Then Annabelle...” He broke off. “I’ll let her tell it.”

  “I heard it, too,” she said quietly. “Just once. I’d gone into Viv’s room to get some of her winter clothes, and I heard it. It did sound like a man talking, but from far away. He didn’t sound as if he were in the room.” She shook her head. “I felt like ice water ran down my spine. I raced to get Todd, but by the time we both came back, it had stopped. Then I noticed something else I hadn’t really paid attention to before.”

  “That was?”

  “Viv’s dog was in there, and he was growling at the wall with his hackles up. I’d never seen him do that before. Or if he had, there in her room, I hadn’t noticed. Then I noticed him doing it more often.”

  Steve had some familiarity as a cop with a dog’s heightened senses. They could detect things that humans couldn’t. But more than that, they usually knew when something was a threat. More trouble.

  “Anyway,” Todd continued, “we started paying attention to Buddy. Most of the time he didn’t seem disturbed. He was happy, prancing around the house, playing with Viv. But every now and then he’d react to something in her bedroom. Not constantly, just sometimes.”

  Steve waited expectantly. He thought he knew the rest, but he wanted to hear it again. Much could be revealed by faces that wouldn’t necessarily come across in a phone call. He was g
etting the close-up look he needed.

  “Viv,” said Annabelle. “It’s getting worse, Steve. She doesn’t want to even walk by her bedroom. She begged us to get rid of the man. Do you know what it’s like to have your daughter desperately begging you for something you can’t give her?”

  While Steve had no children, he didn’t have any trouble imagining how awful the Castelles must be feeling. “Are you still sleeping with her?”

  “She’s in our bed every night now, and some nights she doesn’t sleep at all because she was terrified the man would come out of her room and find her.”

  It was definitely getting worse, Steve thought. For Viv, and for them.

  Todd spoke. “Anyway, I decided I had to do something. Anything.”

  Annabelle jumped in. “Maybe we’re being crazy. I don’t know.”

  Steve replied, hoping he could reassure this couple. Their pain wrenched at his heart. “I’d be going crazy, too.”

  Annabelle gave him a faint smile. “We watched some ghost shows from time to time. We’re not avid, but we think they’re fun. Or we did until this. Anyway, EMF...”

  Electromagnetic frequencies. They could affect the brain and cause weird experiences. He was familiar with them.

  Todd joined in. “I got us an EMF meter just before we called you. We figured that since the voice was confined to Viv’s room, there might be something like that going on. She might be extremely sensitive. The dog, too. It might also explain the voice Annabelle heard that once. But either way I didn’t want Viv in there if some electrical frequency was messing with her brain. Or maybe causing some disease. I thought I’d checked all the wiring, but I didn’t get inside the walls. We had to know.”

  “Good decision,” Steve said. “Excellent decision and I’m not just saying that because I hunt this stuff. This is something important you need to clear up for Viv’s sake.”

  “That’s what we think,” Annabelle said. “I sure wasn’t about to consider an exorcism or something. Not then, not now, unless you find a reason. Calling it paranormal is the last thing we want to do.”