Home for the Haunting(81)

“You think I was flirting with Cookie last night, so you spent the day with that boy to drive me crazy.”

“Zach’s not a boy.”

“Yeah. I guess that was partly my point. Enough with the flirting with Zach.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, ‘flirting’ might be too strong a word in this case, because you really suck at flirting. But admit it: You’re trying to make me jealous.”

“Whatever do you mean?” I winced at my own wording, which put me in mind of Gone with the Wind, which my father insisted on watching the other day, blaming it on my dear departed mother.

“Come off it, Scarlett.” Apparently Graham noticed the same tone in my voice. “Have dinner with me; give me a chance to win you back.”

“Um . . .” While I was trying to think of an excuse, Graham rested his hand on the back of my neck, then scrunched my hair up in his fist and gave a gentle tug while looking deep into my eyes. It was a signature move that made me melt. “Okay. But first we have to take everybody home. And then you have to go with me to talk to a guy about a thing.”

“Oh, boy. Who is this?”

“Just a guy Kobe told me about. It’ll be real quick.”

“Mel . . .”

“Look, you said you were worried about me, so I’m asking you to be my backup. If you don’t want the position, I could always ask Zach to go with me. He’s remarkably accommodating.”

“I’ll just bet he is,” he grumbled. “Let’s go.”

We dropped Raven off at her home with the promise to tell Inspector Crawford she had fulfilled her community service. I noticed she and Caleb traded digits on their phones, which worried me. I’d wanted him to snoop around a little for me, not get involved with kids who performed rites over Ouija boards in empty houses.

Then we dropped Zach at his car. I got out to hug him good-bye and to thank him for being my escort today. He gave me a wink, saluted Graham, and was gone.

“Did you get any information from Raven?” I asked Caleb as we drove him to his mom’s place near Pacific Heights.

He shrugged. “Sorta.”

“Like . . . ?”

“I don’t know if it really relates to what you were looking for. I mean, it’s not really about the dead body. It’s just, like, kinda weird.”

Graham gave a mirthless chuckle. “Like anything about this case isn’t.”

“What is it?” I asked Caleb, pointedly ignoring Graham.

“Raven says she, like, totally saw Monty walking around one night.”

“Around where? At the Murder House?”

“No, I mean like, not in his chair.”

“Out of the wheelchair? You’re saying he can walk?”

He nodded. “You don’t think . . . like, if he could walk, maybe he could have been part of what happened to Linda? And maybe he’d be worried now about what you might do if you figure it out?”

I tried to process this information. “Even if he can walk, that doesn’t mean he had anything to do with Linda’s death. Among other things, the police still think she killed herself or that it was an accidental overdose.”

“Yeah, but you think someone killed her,” he said, his dark eyes unusually sharp and focused on me and my response. “Don’t you?”

We pulled up in front of a tall building where Caleb lived with his mother in the penthouse suite. The front doorway was decorated in ornate concrete tracery formed to look like a stylized face, with its mouth as the entrance. It was the sort of thing people did in the old days: They tried to make a splash, design something unique and special.

“I . . . um . . .” I stumbled as I tried to gather my thoughts. I didn’t want to scare Caleb, but there wasn’t much point in denying the obvious. And after all, this was why I asked him to speak with Raven. “I’m still not sure. I guess it seems sort of suspicious to me . . . but I haven’t figured it out.”

“Anyway, Raven says Monty’s totally, like, a crook.” said Caleb as he gathered his heavy backpack full of schoolbooks. “Promise you won’t go over there alone anymore.”

“I . . .” I was about to protest that I would be fine, but realized how stupid that sounded. If Monty was able-bodied, he could well have been involved with this somehow. At the very least, it was suspicious behavior, and I needed to be better about my safety. Last time I was involved in something like this, I landed in the hospital.

I locked eyes with Graham, who was studying me.

“Okay, I promise.”

I forced Caleb to accept a kiss and a hug—which I held too long for his liking—and then Graham and I watched as he was swallowed up by the mouth of the apartment building.