Ghost Not Forgotten

XXII: Now

"Let's start with that night," Bennet whispered. "That night under your cellar."

Stanley let out a breath.

"What about my cellar, Bennet?" Stanley said. "Did you see anything in there?"

Bennet didn't falter, even with Stanley's weird tone; it was almost like he was expecting him to act that way. "Nothin' of significance to a sixteen-year-old country boy," he said with a small shrug. "I saw dusty pictures and papers taped up all over the walls and the desk, the pictures were of the brain, I remember. What I saw of the papers was nothin' but a bunch of medical gibberish – notes, hundreds of notes scribbled on yellow legal pad paper in doctor talk, a language I'd never understand."

"You were always very observant," Stanley said, sounding almost wistful. It made my stomach turn.

"Why do you think I became a detective? Don't interrupt me, Pike."

"I'm sorry. I just always admired that about you," Stanley said. "You were such a smart kid. That was half your problem. You were too smart, you could figure out too much. I couldn't risk it."

"But you could risk havin' Billy be your watch dog?" Bennet said, making a head motion to Billy's crumpled body on the floor.

Stanley sighed. "The useful thing about Billy is he's stupid. The stupidest creature on this green earth, God bless him."

Well, I couldn't argue with that.

"And like most dumb animals, he's loyal and unquestioning," Stanley said. "Once I offered him some money, I had his complete dedication, no questions asked."

My breathing picked up. Because I couldn't see his face I could almost believe it wasn't my Stanley talking. It wasn't him, it couldn't be. It sounded and smelled like him, but it wasn't him. My Stanley didn't talk like that, he didn't use people like that.

"Did he go down in the cellar?" Bennet said.

"Nope," Stanley said. "I told him he wouldn't get paid if he did. I also told him not to tell the others and he didn't. He just had to watch you and tell me what you were up to."

"Did watching me include pulling a gun on me?" Bennet said, putting a hand to the back of his head and grimacing. "And smacking me with it?"

"He probably panicked," Stanley said. "It happens. You obviously got the better of him."

I looked at Billy on the floor. He was pretty beat up. That must have been some scuffle he and Bennet had.

"So Taylor and Brad don't know?" Bennet said.

"No," Stanley said. "Only Billy."

"I wondered," Bennet said. "They seemed so interested in discussin' your cellar. I thought they were in on somethin'."

"Billy probably got them riled up to get you to talk," Stanley said. "I suggested he do that."

Since when had Stanley been an evil mastermind? Since when? Using people as pawns? It made my head hurt, trying to figure it all out, make sense of it. I wondered – not for the first time – if I was dreaming. A part of me was certain I had to be.

"Anyway, we got off track," Stanley said, his voice warm and normal. It wasn't right that he sounded like that, not now, when he had a gun to my head. "No more about poor Billy – and the big headache he's gonna have when he comes to – what else did you see in my cellar, Bennet?"

Bennet's eyes narrowed and he cocked his head a little. "Why so interested? You couldn't wait to get me out of that cellar that night, why are you so excited to hear what I saw? You get some sort of sick enjoyment out of it?"