“I can’t see it,” I said, my hand raised.
“Try it again, but be careful,” he said, suddenly untrusting of the tiny compartment. It did seem a tad ominous. Maybe it was a portal to hell. Or a broom closet. I always felt broom closets were a little shady. Why would a broom need its own closet?
I stepped inside and closed the door again. Then I waited for the signal. Not that we’d decided on one, but surely they’d let me know when they were ready for us to come out. I was beginning to think we’d been punked when I heard a male voice from behind me.
“Hey, pumpkin.”
Goose bumps erupted across my skin as I turned. “Dad!” I yelled, and threw my free arm around his neck.
He laughed and hugged me back, being careful not to squish my package. Then he looked down at said package, his eyes glistening. “My God,” he said, his expression full of pride.
“Dad, how are you here?” I asked.
He sobered and smiled at me. “This is kind of like a safe room. No one from outside can see us in here. They would literally have to come inside this room to hear anything we say, even the departed, and you would see them.”
“Really? This is the coolest room ever. But what happened?”
He smoothed my hair back. “No time for that, pumpkin. If you don’t come out soon, that group out there is likely to rip the door off its hinges.”
“Oh, you’re right. Hold on.”
I cracked open the door. Everyone was still standing in awe.
“I’ll just be a minute.”
Osh grew suspicious. It was like he didn’t trust me.
“Why? What are you doing?”
“Reflecting.”
I closed the door then turned back to my father. I touched his face and his cool skin reminded me exactly what state he was in.
“Now, what happened? Who killed you?”
“First, you have to know, there are spies.”
“I know. I totally busted one. She was living in my closet.”
“There are more.”
I knew that. I’d known for a while. “Duff.”
“Yes.”
“More?”
“A couple on the lawn, I think. It’s like the Cold War here.”
“Wait, are you a spy for the good guys?”
He grinned. “I’m a spy for you, honey. I just had no idea.” He glanced down at Beep again. “I had absolutely no idea.”
“Okay, but really, who killed you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want you involved in any of that. You’re too important. She’s too important.”
“Dad.”
“Charley.”
“Dad.”
“Charley.”
“Dad. And, yes, I can do this all day.” I had taken hold of his arm. “And just so you know, you can’t disappear as long as I’m holding on to you.”
“Really?” he asked, surprised.
I raised my brows.
He turned away, as though unable to look me in the eye. “You know, you always amazed me. From the day you were born, you were different. I knew it, too.”
“Dad,” I repeated. We didn’t have the time for a stroll down memory lane. I wanted to know who had killed my father, and said father was darned sure going to tell me.
“Just give me a sec, hon. You have to understand what happened before.”
“Okay.” I leaned back against the wall and bounced Beep, but didn’t let go of his wrist. I didn’t think I ever could again. I laced my fingers through his and waited for him to say what he had to.
It took him a moment. Tears swelled between his lashes. “Once you started helping me solve crimes, people noticed. They didn’t know about you, of course, but somehow a few of the cops figured out I was getting … outside help. One was dirty. As dirty as they come. He told a businessman whose payroll he was on. As a result, that man became very interested in me.”
“All this from my help solving crimes?”
“Yes. And no.” He lowered his head, completely embarrassed. “You helped in other ways. Ways you were unaware of.”
“Like what?”
“Charley, I wasn’t always— I mean, I made mistakes. I— I got in over my head with a situation.”
This time I lowered my head. “Did it involve the racetrack at Ruidoso Downs?”
“How did you know?”
I shrugged. “You changed after that. When you got home from your camping trip, you were devastated.”
“Ah, yes, you can feel people’s emotions, can’t you?”
I nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Like I wasn’t enough of a freak.”
“Charley, if there is one thing you are not, it’s a freak. But that doesn’t explain how you figured out what happened that weekend.”
“It took me a few years to piece together, but I realized you’d gone to Ruidoso. There’s only three things in Ruidoso: shopping, camping, and gambling. So, what happened?”
He lowered his head once more, embarrassed. “I had what we call in the gambling business a sure thing.”
“But you weren’t a gambler.”
“Normally, no, but I got this tip. The guy said it was all set up.”
“The sure thing.”
“Yes. And I’d seen him win a fortune once based on a similar tip. So, I bet everything.”