Every hidden thing, p.8
Every Hidden Thing, page 8
“Every one of them since Devin’s—” Parker caught himself too late.
“For the most part, yes.” Rankin gave him a suspicious look like the system in his head to remember names and faces had just made the connection. He looked at Parker with total recognition. For an instant his eyes darted to Parker’s arm. “Funny you should bring that up.”
Not funny at all—but definitely stupid. What was he thinking?
“And all of them,” Rankin said, “rental homes.”
Steadman stared at him. “That I didn’t know. You’re saying not one of them was a regular home?”
“Rentals,” Rankin said. “Just like yours.”
Steadman looked stunned. “That can’t be a coincidence. What are the odds?”
Rankin didn’t comment.
“And the same MO, right?” Steadman stared at the ground, like he was putting something together in his head. “Things get messed up—but not stolen?”
Rankin nodded. “But it still scares the living daylights out of renters—and owners . . . even if nobody is home when the break-in occurs.”
“This changes everything,” Steadman said. “If it’s only rental homes—”
Rankin held up one hand. “Let’s not jump to conclusions, Mr. Steadman.” He turned back to Parker. “Now I want to hear everything. Everything. From the moment you got to the house.”
Parker spilled it all—while Rankin listened and took notes. Twice he interrupted, asking for details about the faceless guy. He seemed frustrated Parker couldn’t describe him in more detail. Parker was getting the idea that he was the first one to have seen the burglar at all—other than Devin, of course. So that made Parker the only living eyewitness?
Rankin looked over his notes. Parker waited, figuring another question was coming.
“How tall, can you tell us that?” Steadman must have figured the moment of silence was his chance to get more info. “Any distinguishing marks? Scars? Tattoos?”
Rankin shot him a look like he was the only one who should be doing the questioning—and investigating.
“The guy wore all black—even his hoodie,” Parker said. “Like a walking shadow.” No wonder Devin called him Shadow-man. “He could have been a green-skinned alien from Mars for all I know.”
Steadman nodded like he understood, but Parker couldn’t help feeling he was letting his boss down.
“You mentioned Devin Catsakis,” Rankin said. “You’re the friend who says he didn’t go with him the night he drowned.”
Said he didn’t go with him? Was that a really poor choice of words, or did Rankin deliberately say it to shake him up? And why would the cop do that? “Yeah, that was me.”
Rankin nodded like he was just adding some mental notes to Parker’s file. “Green light. Isn’t that what you claim Catsakis was chasing?”
Claim? “That’s what Devin Catsakis said he saw. I never saw a green light—until tonight.”
Rankin tapped his notebook with the pen. “Some kind of coincidence, wouldn’t you say? I mean, you told us Catsakis was chasing a green light—and now you were chased by one. In the twelve years I’ve been on the force I’ve heard a lot of strange goings-on. Only twice did they involve green lights—and both reports made by you. Anybody else see the lights?”
For a moment he thought about the man with the pickup. Maybe he saw the guy chasing Parker. He hated to bring it up. What if he had damaged the guy’s truck? But if he didn’t—
“Taking a long time to answer a simple question, boy,” Rankin said. “Any other witnesses?”
“Not exactly.”
Rankin looked up from his notes, his eyes drilling into Parker.
Parker explained about broadsiding the pickup and Mr. F-150 yelling at him to stop. “Maybe he saw something.”
“Maybe we can take a ride out there once your dad gets here,” Rankin said, “retrace your steps, and I’ll have a chat with him.”
Right now Parker just wanted to go home.
“Let’s go back to the rental thing,” Steadman said. “What’s your take on the significance of every burglary taking place at a rental home?”
Rankin shrugged. “To me that can only mean one thing.” His eyes flicked toward Parker for a millisecond. “Kids.”
An uneasiness knotted Parker’s gut. He did not like the way Rankin looked at him.
“Kids?” Steadman shook his head. “Why would they only hit rentals? That makes no sense.”
“A druggie would have stolen things that he could turn into fast cash,” Rankin said. “But all kinds of things of value haven’t been touched. Computers. Cameras. Smartphones. Every house, same thing. So this isn’t about money,” Rankin said. “Trust me—this has ‘kids’ written all over it. By the number of homes hit, I’d say there’s a group of them.”
“But what’s the point?” Steadman looked at Parker—but not in an accusing way. More like he was just trying to get his head wrapped around this.
Parker was no expert on what kids in town thought. Maybe if he understood them a little better he’d have more than just El as a friend. “I have no idea.”
“Really?” Rankin gave Parker a long, hard look. “You have no idea?”
What was it with the tone in Rankin’s voice? Parker wanted to call Dad again. Maybe he’d gotten Parker’s message and was on his way.
“Maybe kids don’t need a good reason,” Rankin said. “Maybe they’re bored. Maybe this is their way of having fun—being the total idiots that they are. Like this is one big game.”
Steadman didn’t look like he was buying that. “Maybe if it were more random. Like if there were some regular homes in the mix—but all rentals? That seems too deliberate.”
“Rentals are easy,” Rankin said. “Almost zero chance of an angry homeowner walking in on them—with a firearm or baseball bat.”
Which made some sense.
“Kids got spring fever . . . and the break-ins started. Once school got out, they’re upping their game a little.” Rankin gave Parker the side-eye again. “Kids. Trying to prove themselves. Getting their kicks. It’s as simple as that.”
Steadman shrugged. “I still say there’s something more.”
“What I want right now,” Rankin said, “are more details.” He looked right through Parker. “Let’s go over this one more time. You’re going to tell me everything that happened. Again.”
Parker told Rankin every detail. Be honest—that was the right thing to do. Parker focused on the massive light stick. And he went into more detail on the chase and how he’d shed his cap and T-shirt in the cemetery.
Rankin jotted down notes on a pad now and then—but didn’t exactly look overjoyed at the lack of details Parker shared. “Anything else?”
Parker pictured the faceless Shadow-man. Looking his way. Pointing the glow stick at him. “That was about it. Except . . .”
Rankin clicked and unclicked his gel pen in a steady rhythm.
“Don’t you think this means maybe Devin Catsakis’s drowning wasn’t so accidental? He described the same Shadow-man that I saw. Now we know he wasn’t making that up. You’ve got to open the case and find out what really happened to him.”
Rankin looked at him with eyes that could do laser surgery. “Do I?” He did the pen thing like he was priming a pump to fuel his brain or something. “Every week I hear that some kid calls to say we’ve got to look into Catsakis’s death again. That you making the calls?”
Parker nodded.
“This is making a whole lot more sense now.” Rankin chuckled. “How’s this for a theory? There’s something you haven’t been quite honest with Officer Rankin about in regards to that boy’s drowning. You egged him on. Dared him. Did something. You cooked up that story about Catsakis seeing the light and Shadow-man. But the police didn’t buy it. Maybe kids at school are suspicious too. Giving you a hard time. So you keep calling, hoping the police start looking for a ghost—so maybe the kids at school get off your back. But that isn’t working for you either. Suddenly you see Shadow-man yourself. Nobody else in town . . . just you. Fits pretty nicely into your agenda, wouldn’t you say?”
Parker stood. He had to get out of here. Needed to talk to Dad. Or El. And definitely Jelly. Somebody who at least acted like they believed him. “Look, I really need to go. I hope you find whoever broke into Mr. Steadman’s house.”
Rankin tapped his pad and smiled at Parker. One of those polite smiles that have nothing to do with being friendly. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh, I’ll get him. Count on it.”
A knock on the door startled Parker. A cop stuck his head inside the room and held up a scrap of paper. “Got a Ted Borker here who says he got a good look at the burglar. Says he can ID him in a lineup.”
“Yes!” Steadman stood. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Finally, somebody else Rankin could grill. Parker excused himself and brushed by the cop at the door. The moment he stepped into the hallway—he saw the eyewitness. The guy with the pickup truck.
“That’s him.” Mr. F-150 pointed directly at Parker. “There’s your burglar.”
CHAPTER 16
Saturday, June 4, 7:35 a.m.
ELLA KEPT IN STEP ALONGSIDE PARKER as he walked through town and filled her in on the crazy things that had happened the night before. He’d insisted they meet early, but she was okay with that the instant he described Shadow-man. Whether Parker would admit it or not, it was just possible he’d seen his first ghost.
Two questions were playing tag in her head. First, how much did she dare tell Parker about her encounter with this Shadow-man character? Second, had Parker already talked to Jelly this morning—or was he actually confiding in Ella first? She’d have to find that out somehow—without him catching on. Ella didn’t have friends, and she wanted to be careful not to get her hopes too high. Was she just someone Parker was hanging out with until Jelly moved to town? Or was there really room in his life for more than one close friend?
“I’ll bet your parents were a little worked up.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “I think my dad was more upset with himself—that he missed my calls.”
“And your mom?”
“Definitely ticked at me.”
Ella didn’t blame her. “Because you stuck your head inside the house and yelled—or that you were so worried about looking like a wimp that you never phoned her?”
Parker laughed. “It’s a toss-up. But she sure was upset.”
She could imagine it. Having a real mom and dad who stayed with you? Sounded like heaven to her—even if they did get worked up at times. At least that would mean they cared, right? That they were there.
“What did Jelly say when you told her about your creepy adventure last night?” She tried to make the question sound casual.
“She wasn’t happy.”
Ella should have known he would’ve talked to Jelly first—no matter how early in the morning. “You probably woke her up. I’m sure she loved that.”
“She wasn’t asleep yet. I called her last night.”
Oh. Of course he did. That’s what you do with really good friends.
“She just wishes she were here.”
“No transfer for her dad yet?”
“Not a word.”
That was something, anyway. Once Jelly moved north, Ella feared she’d see a whole lot less of Parker. She’d be alone again. “Tell me again everything you can remember about Shadow-man.”
Grams’s cross necklace tapped gently against her with every step. It brought an unexplainable comfort when Parker talked about the faceless man.
She actually laughed when he mentioned the neighbor guy who’d identified him as the burglar. “You—Mr. Total Boy Scout—a burglar? And Rankin bought it?”
“He let me go—so that must count for something. But Rankin will be keeping an eye on me—he made that pretty clear.” Parker walked past the wharf without even looking out at the harbor—which was totally unlike him. “The neighbor—with the pickup—insisted I was wearing a hoodie.”
Ella studied his face. “Were you?”
“No.” Parker looked annoyed that she’d asked. “Just a short-sleeved T-shirt over a long-sleeved one.”
“The one you peeled off to disguise yourself?”
Parker nodded.
“I can’t believe you went through the Old First Parish Burying Ground—at night.”
“I was being chased—by a faceless man,” Parker said.
“Exactly. And you thought it was a good idea to take a shortcut through a cemetery?” Ella tapped her head. “Get a brain, Parker. You were on its home turf.”
Parker laughed. “Its? You’re saying the burglar isn’t human?”
“It had no face,” Ella said. “How many humans do you know without a face?”
“None. But—”
“Thank you,” Ella said. “Now you’re talking sense. Next time you’re being chased, avoid the graveyard, okay? It’s bad luck.”
“Bad luck?” Parker took a couple quick steps to get ahead, then walked backward in front of her. “I got away, didn’t I?”
“For the moment,” Ella said. “But that’s the spooky thing about bad luck. It’s like a relentless stalker. It follows you at a distance, but you have to stop sometime. You rest. Think you’re safe. You let down your guard—and bad luck catches up. It always does.” If she was going to tell him what she knew about Shadow-man, this was the time. But she couldn’t, could she?
Parker fell in step alongside her and made an exaggerated show of looking over his shoulder.
Obviously Parker had no idea what he was messing with. “Make fun of me all you like, wise guy. I’d have still gone around the cemetery,” Ella said, “even if I were being chased by an angry mob.”
They passed the entrance to Bearskin Neck and headed uphill along Main Street. “Anyway, the shirt I ditched was my favorite one from Wooten’s Airboat Tours.”
She knew the shirt. “What a shame to lose that ratty old thing. You’re lucky that’s all you lost—running through that old burial ground at night.”
“I’m not going to lose it.” Parker grinned. “We’re going to the cemetery to find it—along with my cap. That’s why I wanted to get going early—before somebody grabs my stuff.”
“Nobody in their right mind would pick up anything lying on a grave,” Ella said, “especially that disgusting shirt.”
He gave her a look like he thought she was joking.
“I’m serious,” Ella said. “Just leave the stuff there. It’s bad luck—and no shirt is worth that.”
“Bad luck to run through a cemetery. Bad luck to pick something up in a cemetery.” Parker laughed. “You are sooo superstitious.”
“No—I’m careful. There’s a difference,” Ella said. “My Grams is the superstitious one. She believes the first person to step inside your home on New Year’s Day makes all the difference as to what kind of year you’ll have. If it’s a man, you’ll have a year of good luck.”
“So if Shadow-man burglarized your place on New Year’s Day—that would be a good thing? Hey, come on in. Have a seat. So glad you could stop in.”
She so did not want to think of Shadow-man at their place . . . again. “Be careful, Buckman, or the next watercolor I do will be of you—and you’ll be holding a Teddy Bear. A big one. I’ll title it Parker Buckman with His Only Friend—and I’ll sell it at the Farmer’s Market.”
Parker laughed like the events of last night—and even Devin’s death—were behind him. Ella knew him better than that.
“Anyway, if you insist on going to the Old First Parish Burying Ground, you’re on your own.” She was half-bluffing, but he didn’t need to know that. The truth was, she wouldn’t let any friend go there alone, even in daylight. “I’ll just wait for you at Brothers Brew.” The coffee shop door was propped open, and the aroma of fresh-baked donuts beckoned.
Parker hooked his arm through hers and walked her right past the place. “How about we stop in after I get my stuff? I’ll buy.”
The guy was definitely on a mission—and clearly she wasn’t going to talk him out of it. “I’ll walk you to the edge, but I’m not going in.”
He laughed again. “Seriously? What’s your problem?”
She wanted to tell him what she knew of Shadow-man. But what would Grams say? Wouldn’t she see that as a betrayal? “Walking through a burial ground is reckless. And the fact that you even ask that question shows just how naive you are, Parker.” Even the thought of waiting at the foot of the cemetery while he went in made her uneasy. She didn’t want to think about it—or hear Parker tease her about it, either.
“What I don’t understand is why Officer Rankin let you go,” Ella said. “After that eyewitness neighbor, how did you convince him you weren’t the burglar?”
“I didn’t. Steadman vouched for me,” Parker said. “Said the theory of me doing it was insane. Rankin had nothing to hold me on—so that ended it.”
“You’re a dangerous friend to have, Parker,” Ella said. “I mean, hey, you went through some pretty intense things in Florida . . . and now trouble seems to be finding you here.”
“There’s a cheery thought.”
If he’d have looked her way when she was talking—instead of at the shop windows—he’d have known she was dead serious. The way she’d heard the story, Parker definitely had some bad luck in the Everglades. Had it found him here? Maybe it had come in with the fog. Ella needed to keep the conversation light. Waiting for the right moment to talk more about Shadow-man.
They turned onto Beach Street and headed for the Old First Parish Burying Ground. The road sloped downhill. If a kid dropped a ball on the street it would roll all the way to the foot of the graveyard before stopping. And the graveyard seemed to be drawing Parker to it just as easily. Just seeing the cemetery creeped her out—which is why she never swam at Front Beach. Every time she’d turn her back to the water, she’d see gravestones. No thanks.
Parker’s mood changed, too, the closer he got to the base of the hill. He got quiet, and Ella guessed he was reliving the chase from last night. There was no traffic, and they walked down the center of the narrow street side by side. This might be the best opportunity she was going to get. “What if Devin wasn’t the only one who has seen Shadow-man—besides you now? Ever think of that?”
