Page 71 of The Burnt
“All the way back to Calgary, I’m afraid.”
Mark raised his eyebrows. “Oh.”
“Have you been down there?” Declan asked.
“A few times, but never in conditions like this. And certainly not at night. My car wouldn’t take it.”
A grey Impala, perhaps, Charlie thought.
“So, were you born here in Jasper?” Declan continued.
“No. Long story,” Mark said. “Not very interesting. Well, we’d better get you back on the road.”
“Yeah. Work calls,” Declan replied.
“And what sort of work are you in?”
Charlie answered, “We’re private investigators.”
It was all Charlie had to say. The smile dropped off of Mark’s face.
“I’ll bring you your bill. Will that be all on one?”
Declan said, “That would be fine. Thanks.” He gave the server what would have been a heart-melting smile, except Mark was a little preoccupied at the moment. Charlie doubted it had anything to do with the bill.
Mark left the table and headed to the corner of the restaurant where he started an intense discussion with a beautiful young female server who kept looking over at their table. Declan discretely snapped a picture of their server with his phone then turned to Charlie. “What’s wrong? You look upset.”
“I thought we were going to spend the night in the hotel,” Charlie said.
“Oh, we are. I just told him we were leaving tonight to keep him on edge. Did you see how he reacted when you told him we were private investigators? He’s hiding something. I can’t wait to see what he does when we show up on his doorstep tomorrow.”
Charlie said, “Should we wait that long?”
“I don’t see that there’s any rush. He thinks we’re leaving town. In the meantime, you can use your computer to see if the picture I took matches any persons of interest online.”
Declan looked out of the window. “The weather’s closing in. I don’t think he’s going anywhere tonight, and neither are we.”
Chapter Thirty
Charlie woke up. Something wasn’t right. He wasn’t where he thought he should be. Charlie shook his head and got out of bed. His feet took him downstairs and into Declan’s office.
What the fuck?
He heard a sound, like a tinkling bell.
Ting-ting-ting.
It seemed to be coming from the main room of the office.
Ting-ting-ting.
It was getting louder. He poked his head out of the door and saw Dave the ghost walking toward him. He stared at Charlie, stirring his cup of coffee.
Ting-ting-ting.
Dave looked much worse for wear.
Charlie was surprised that seeing the ghost no longer sent him into fits of terror. Dave raised his cup to Charlie, then walked past him and into Declan’s office. Charlie followed. In between thetingingof his spoon against the cup, Dave was humming a tune. It was the Baby Bunting lullaby. Charlie’s brain filled in the words. “Bye, Baby Bunting. Daddy’s gone a-hunting.” Each phrase was followed by ating-ting-ting.Dave hummed the tune over and over again as he walked slowly around Declan’s office, followed by Charlie. Dave seemed to be looking for something. He stopped, then made his way over to the credenza. He picked up the photo of Freddy Whitcher and held it out to Charlie.
