Fatal Storm by Lee Driver

Colonial Realty has the only
key. She was the one who contacted me about the ghost hunters. I
thought it would be good publicity, maybe get that white elephant
off my books.” In the background they could hear Godfrey ask
someone to get him another mimosa. John checked his watch and
lifted his eyebrows. Godfrey was drinking rather early but it was
California.
    “How much is the house worth?” John
asked.
    “Usually whatever someone is willing to pay.
But it is valued at twenty-five million. It is a fabulous piece of
history. When it was on the market I had a service in there keeping
the place spit shined. But it costs too much to keep that place
maintained. The fireplaces haven’t been used in decades because of
the cost of insurance.”
    Padre said, “The house must have some history
if the ghost hunters were investigating it. Do you know of any
occurrences?”
    Godfrey barked out a laugh. “Thanks, babe,”
he whispered to someone. “Any house with gargoyles and turrets or
older than fifty years is going to have rumors of strange
happenings, but no, not since I have been handling the estate.
Plus, I don’t listen to rumors. I deal in cold hard cash.”
    “But it certainly could get this white
elephant off your hands if something sensational happened,” John
started, “say like a wealthy heiress disappearing.”
    There was silence for a few beats. “What are
you suggesting, Chief? Do you think I paid this IPI group to kidnap
someone for headlines?”
    “I have to look at all possibilities and
right now we are running out of time. If there is some panic room
or vault not on the blue prints, we need to know now.” John stared
at Padre across the desk as the silence stretched.
    “Tell you what,” Godfrey finally said, “how
about we ignore this whole line of questioning and I don’t sue your
ass, the department, and the city.” With that Godfrey hung up.
    “Guess that was a no,” Padre said.
    “Hell, I hate the guy for the sun, the pool,
and the naked ladies paddling around while we’re here swimming in
dead end clues, a missing person, and a dead body.”
    Padre checked his phone before heading out.
He had three messages. One was a text message from Dagger to call
him. If Luther wasn’t ready for him, Padre would take some time to
return calls.
     
     
- 12 -
     
    Sheila moved slowly through the dining room,
going from chair to chair, fearful of walking without the benefit
of something to hold onto. She had checked the kitchen for an
aspirin or even an ice pack but the cabinets were empty and a
refrigerator was non-existent. Maybe if she just laid down for a
few minutes her headache would start to subside. Whether the mud
had hardened outside or not, the minute she could walk without the
world spinning, she was going to walk to the nearest gas
station.
    She made her way down the hall and back to
the study. Sheila closed the shutters on the windows but it only
helped to block out a third of the light. She stretched out on the
couch and closed her eyes. But sleep wouldn’t come.
    She sensed movement in the air but was afraid
to open her eyes. Was that the sound of someone breathing that she
heard? Slowly Sheila opened her eyes to find a girl standing next
to the couch. She bolted to a sitting position, then grabbed her
sore head and winced.
    “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
    The girl had corn silk hair that hung down
her back. Blue eyes were framed by long lashes. She was dressed in
an old-fashioned pinafore-type dress and patent leather shoes.
Sheila firmly believed she had finally met Alice and she was
definitely in Wonderland.
    “Who are you?”
    “Colleen.”
    Where had the girl been hiding while Sheila
was knocked out cold on the couch? And how did Sheila get to the
couch? There wasn't any possible way this girl could have carried
her.
    “How old are you?” She moved aside and
motioned toward the couch. Colleen was careful not to wrinkle her
dress when she sat. It reminded Sheila of