Read Online Ghost Wanted by Carolyn Hart - Free Book Online Page B

the destruction of the gargoyle, so—”
    I heard the rumble of the Rescue Express, wheels clacking on silver rails, whistle rising like a rush of wind.
    â€œâ€”you can return to Heaven.”
    I found the relief in his voice disheartening.
    â€œWiggins, think of Lorraine.” I spoke emphatically.
    â€œShe’s fine. Her reputation will be unsullied when the culprit is revealed. Come now . . .”
    The acrid smell of coal smoke was stronger.
    â€œLorraine is counting on me to prove Michelle Hoyt innocent of theft. If I leave, Lorraine will feel it’s her duty to help Michelle. You and I both know Lorraine has the best intentions in the world, but, Wiggins, as I stressed, she isn’t aware of the Precepts. To have her doing what she can for Michelle without any department expertise, why, the results could be most distressing. When I have an opportunity, I’ll explain to Lorraine that Heaven’s work is best done quietly, unremarked by the world.” Such sweet sincerity in my voice. “And”—this was the clincher—“you don’t want Lorraine to believe we have abandoned her. It means everything to her that you have her best interests at heart. You understand that Lorraine is guided by her heart. She sees a match for Michelle Hoyt and the editor of the
Bugle
, which means Lorraine is convinced of their goodness. We don’t want to abandon either Lorraine or Michelle, do we?”
    â€œOh.”
    The silence in the small room was filled with tenderness. I felt a prick of tears in my eyes.
    â€œI see.” His voice was soft. “You’re right, Bailey Ruth. We never want anyone to feel abandoned. However, I must say the evidence against this student appears substantial, although I don’t understand this talk about codes, but everything is so newfangled these days. I gather she was supposed to be at her duty station here this morning and she is absent.”
    â€œYes.” My tone was suddenly grave. “I find her absence disturbing. I read the article in which she was interviewed about this project. She was thrilled, seeing it as a major step toward her life goal. Would she throw everything away to commit a theft?” I played my best card. “Lorraine doesn’t believe Michelle’s guilty. I’ll find out the truth.”
    â€œLorraine . . .” His voice was growing fainter, the clack of wheels more distant, the smell of smoke was fading. “Lorraine always knows the tree from the forest.”
    I was alone.
    I didn’t take time to be pleased. I felt pressed, uncertain, worried. Lorraine believed in Michelle because Lorraine believed in love and lovers. My response was more pragmatic. Michelle Hoyt hadn’t achieved a status rare for a senior in college by reckless, dishonest, unreliable behavior. Besides, she wasn’t stupid, and to use her own code to surreptitiously enter the library and steal a book was stupid.
    Today should have been the beginning of her dream to someday write histories about real people who bumped westward in wagon trains, toiled to lay the crossties and tracks across a wilderness, followed dreams to open shops on new, dusty main streets. Real people with real pain, people whose hearts filled with joy, exulted in doing and daring, grieved at graves left behind.
    Where was Michelle?
    I’d start at her apartment. Unencumbered with physical matter, I thought and arrived.

Chapter 5
    A trim white-haired woman in an orange OSU warm-up jacket and pants stood with arms akimbo in the middle of a small living room. “All right. You have a search warrant. Let’s see your ID.”
    The tall, husky detective’s dark hair sprang from a widow’s peak above a lined forehead, strong nose, and pointed chin. He was a little over six feet with broad shoulders beneath a nicely fitted black-and-white houndstooth sports coat. His black slacks matched the stripe perfectly.