Restless Spirits Boxset: A Collection of Riveting Haunted House Mysteries

by Skylar Finn

  I checked Jazmin’s handiwork. The bandage was perfect, but the burn stung even with the aloe vera gel. I sank into the armchair across from the desk and waved at Riley to plug in the camera. “Fine. Show me what you got, but this doesn’t mean I approve of your escapades. I want to know where you are every second of the day. Got it?”

  Riley couldn’t contain her excitement. She bounced on the balls of her feet while she hooked up the camera to the laptop and explained herself. Jazmin sat on the ottoman next to me and offered a cup of tea and a warm biscuit. Reluctantly, I accepted both.

  “I wasn’t sure where to start,” Riley said as the images loaded on the screen. “First, I had to track someone down. I found Nick first, but he was hanging out in the library like I told him to. Boring. Dad was asleep in his room. He didn’t answer when I knocked. Then I went to the kitchen in case the killer wanted to pay Tyler a postmortem visit.” She shuddered at the thought. “Ugh. Anyway, Matisse and Karli were in there again, baking or whatever. That’s where I got the biscuits. Before I went inside, I recorded some of their conversation.”

  She pressed play and the video began. The frame quivered as Riley leveled the camera through the porthole window in the kitchen doors. Karli and Matisse stood at the preparation table. Karli’s face was in plain view, but Matisse’s broad shoulders and wide back were to the camera. His meaty hands were spread flat across the stainless steel of the prep table, but his fingers kept rolling in and out like inchworms with their back ends taped down.

  “I shouldn’t be relieved,” Karli said as she blotted her face with a dish towel. Her mascara clumped around her bottom lashes, damp and runny from her tears. “But I am.”

  Matisse’s hands did the thing again. He attempted to wipe a tear from Karli’s cheek but only succeeded in smearing a thick black line of mascara across her nose.

  “Sorry.” He offered her an individually-wrapped wet napkin from a drawer full of them. “You don’t have to be ashamed of your relief. We’re all glad that Tyler’s gone. Deep down, I bet Mr. Watson’s not upset either.”

  “What a thing to say,” Karli muttered.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Matisse added. “I’ve been working here since I was a kid. I grew up with Tyler. We went to the same high school. He was always a jerk, and his dad never cared. It wasn’t until Mrs. Watson died that Mr. Watson bothered to pay attention to Tyler. By then, it was too late. When you told me what he did to you” —Matisse leaned his forehead into his hands— “Karli, I was so mad.”

  “Hey,” she said softly. She lifted Matisse’s chin with the tip of her finger. Their eyes met. “It’s over now. Tyler’s gone. We don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

  She kissed him. Riley wolf-whistled and paused the video.

  “See?” she said.

  “See what?” I replied. “Who cares if Karli and Matisse are making out? I could have seen that coming a mile away.”

  “No, no, no,” Riley said. “You don’t get it. Matisse has had a thing for Karli ever since she started working here, but she never noticed him. Not while my brother was around. Girls were obsessed with Tyler, even though he was a giant idiot. Karli wasn’t any different. You know why she and my brother broke up? Because he got arrested for punching her. You’d think she would’ve sued my dad and left the hotel, but she kept doing her job. Every time Tyler walked into the bar, she stared at him like he was one of those sour candies. You know, crap on the outside, more crap in the middle, but at least the crap in the middle tastes good.”

  “Riley, what are you trying to say?” Jazmin asked, trying to bring it back to the point.

  “Matisse was invisible to Karli,” Riley explained. “He got friendzoned hardcore. Karli never had any interest in dating him. Until now.”

  “So what?” I said. “You think Matisse killed Tyler in order to get to Karli?”

  Riley shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve had a confrontation. After Tyler got released for punching Karli, he came back to the resort and went straight to the Eagle’s View to find her. She wasn’t working, but Matisse was. He’d seen the whole thing, and he went nuts when he realized Tyler made bail. He came out of the kitchen like a madman, tackled my brother to the floor, and started punching him in the face. He kept screaming, ‘How does it feel?’”

  “God, that’s awful,” Jazmin muttered.

  “The other employees had to break it up,” Riley said. “By the time they did, Tyler was unconscious.”

  “Your dad didn’t fire Matisse?” I asked.

  “Why would he?” Riley said. “Matisse is the best assistant chef King and Queens has ever had. He knows the menu like the back of his hand. Besides, we’ve already established that my father never cared about what Tyler did. Honestly, the fact that he’s so upset is weird to me. I’ve never seen my dad like this. He didn’t cry after my mom died, but Tyler gets slashed, and all of a sudden, he’s a garden hose? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Maybe he regrets not paying more attention to his son,” Jazmin suggested. “Death can highlight a lot of our flaws.”

  “Maybe,” Riley said. “But I’m not so sure.”

  “We can discuss your nutso family later, Riley,” I said. “Let’s get back to Matisse. Did something else happen with Karli and Tyler? Maybe Matisse found out about it and decided to take revenge once and for all.”

  “Nothing happened to Karli that night,” Riley said. “Don’t you remember? Tyler was too busy being a jerk to me.”

  “How could I forget?” That was the night Tyler dropped Riley over the banister of the mezzanine. Riley could’ve broken her neck if Nick hadn’t caught her. “Then why would Matisse bother to confront Tyler a second time?”

  “Because Matisse loves me too,” Riley said. “He’s the big brother I wish I had. He started working here when he was fifteen, so he’s known me since I was two. He’s been defending me from Tyler for as long as I can remember.”

  “But you’re willing to give him up as a murder suspect,” Jazmin asked. “Do you not trust him?”

  Riley shuffled from one foot to the other, picking at the calluses on her palms she’d collected from manning her ski poles. It had been a few days since she’d been able to go out on the slopes. Skiing was her one outlet at King and Queens. Without it, she was more fidgety than usual.

  “I love Matisse,” she said. “But I’m not naive. I’ve never seen anyone else lose their temper like he does. I was there when he punched Tyler the first time. You should’ve seen his face. It was like Matisse wasn’t there. He was this big monster smashing his fist into my brother’s nose over and over.”

  “Intentions don’t matter once murder is involved,” Jazmin added. “Even if Matisse killed Tyler to protect Karli and Riley, he’s still guilty of homicide. It’s playing God. No one’s allowed.”

  “Back up,” I said. “We don’t know Matisse is the killer. Don’t forget Riley’s mom’s death was orchestrated too. Daniel thinks the deaths are linked. Why would Matisse go to the trouble of sabotaging the ski lift to get rid of Thelma?”

  Riley sniffled and ducked her head. Though her brother’s death wasn’t on her to-cry-about list, her mother had been the most important influence in her life. My mention of Thelma was cold and distant.

  “Sorry, Riley,” I mumbled as I pulled her into my lap for a hug. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No, you’re right.” She wiped snot on my sweater, a small moment of revenge. “We have to think about this from every angle.”

  “Do you remember what you said when Lucia and I tried to leave King and Queens?” Jazmin asked her. “You thought you were next. Did the spirits tell you that?”

  “I panicked,” Riley said. “You two were going to leave me alone. Mom and Tyler were already gone. The ghosts kept screaming at me. I couldn’t understand any of them, but they were mad at me. I had a feeling if the two of you didn’t stay, I would’ve been dead in a few hours.”

  “Normally, I
’d say a ‘feeling’ doesn’t matter as much as the facts,” I said, “but I think the case is different with me and you, Riley. We need to trust our gut.”

  “My gut is saying the same person killed my mom and my brother,” Riley said. “But my head is saying that Matisse killed Tyler. What does that mean?”

  I squeezed her around the waist, drawing her closer, as if my hug would protect her from anything in the hotel that meant to harm her. “It means we entertain both possibilities.”

  5

  If I wanted the truth from Matisse, I needed backup, and I had the perfect person in mind. There was one perk to being a psychic medium, so I left Jazmin and Riley in the suite to experiment with my abilities in the hallway. I paced back and forth, wringing my hands. This technically wasn’t the first time I’d called a ghost to me. I’d done it for every episode of Madame Lucia’s Parlour for the Dead and Departed, but that was before I knew I had power over the dead. It was different now, and the challenge lay in getting over my fear. Calling Odette came with the inevitable pain of my paralysis, and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Not to mention, I had no idea how to do this without pandering to an audience.

  “Odette?” I ventured. “I sort of need you to show up. God, I feel like an idiot. Hello? Ghost girl? It’s Scooby Doo, come to unmask you.” I shook out the jitters. The hallway remained empty of spirits. “This is ridiculous. Odette, seriously. Show your face. If you want me to get the upper hand in this investigation, I’m going to need your help.”

  No reply. The corridor was quiet. The hair remained flat on the back of my neck. No prickle or tingling.

  “Odette!” I hissed. “Show yourself right now!”

  She popped into existence two inches from my face, startling me so much that I fell over in my haste to get away and slammed against the door to the suite.

  Jazmin called from the inside, “Everything okay out there?”

  “It’s fine,” I said, teeth chattering as the familiar sting began in my bones. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Odette crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. Why she had to lean was beyond me. It’s not like ghosts got tired enough to have to prop themselves up.

  “You rang?” she drawled.

  I struggled to my feet. It was like trying to get the blood flowing after one of your limbs had fallen asleep, except in this case, it was my entire body. “I need your help.”

  “I already told you I can’t give you any information,” Odette said. “The others will punish me for it.”

  “I’m familiar with the others’ form of punishment now.” I lifted my bandaged arm for show. “So I can’t say I blame you.”

  Her eyes widened as she dropped her arms. “You went to the old wing? After I explicitly told you not to? Are you an idiot?”

  “You’re the second person to note my stupidity regarding that decision so probably,” I replied. “And I’m not asking for information. I’m asking for backup while I go hunting for information.”

  “What do you need me for?”

  “I have to question someone. You’re going to make sure they tell me the truth.”

  Karli and Matisse were still in the kitchen when Odette and I arrived. It felt strange to have her floating along beside me, and not just because of the occasional zaps to my spine that reminded me of my energy imbalance. I kept forgetting other people couldn’t see her. We passed a stony-faced Liam in the lobby on our way to the kitchen, but he paid us no mind. His eyes slipped right past the preteen ghost. He shivered when Odette brushed by him though, as if he could feel the draft of her presence. We paused outside the swinging kitchen doors to get an idea of the situation. Karli paced in front of the storage freezer while Matisse manned frying pans on the stove.

  “I can’t believe he’s in there,” Karli said. “Just right there! On the other side of that door. What if we needed more ice for the soda machine? It’s in that freezer. We can’t get to it.”

  Matisse flipped hashbrowns at lightning speed, each potato pancake perfectly browned. “Karli, we can’t do anything about it. Stop thinking about it.”

  “I can’t!” she said. “I don’t understand how you’re cooking. There’s a dead body in our freezer.”

  “If I don’t cook, everyone here starves, and then we’ll all be murdering each other out of hunger,” he answered. “Besides, these vegetables will go bad if we don’t use them. Do you want to help me? It might take your mind off things.”

  Karli shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. Matisse, busy with his hashbrowns, didn’t notice she was shaking like a leaf. “I can’t do this,” she said. “I can’t be in here anymore. I’ll catch up with you later, Matisse.”

  “Karli, wait—”

  I dove to the side and hid under the bar as Karli pushed through the swinging doors. Matisse came out, armed with a spatula, but Karli was gone, disappearing down the steps of the Eagle’s View.

  “Way to go, idiot,” he muttered to himself before returning to the kitchen. “One kiss, and you’ve already messed things up with the girl of your dreams.”

  I gave him a minute to gather his thoughts then joined him in the kitchen. When he heard the hinges swing, he turned around with a smile on his face.

  “I knew you’d come back—oh.” His happy expression fell when he saw I wasn’t Karli. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

  “No problem.”

  “Do you need something?” Matisse asked. “Are you hungry? It’s early for lunch. I don’t have everything ready yet, but I could whip up a snack if you like.”

  “I’m not here for food, Matisse,” I said. “I want to talk to you.”

  He turned his back to me, focusing on his dishes instead. “About what?”

  “About the night Tyler died.”

  His spine stiffened, and his shoulders rose up toward his ears. Odette floated over to him so she could read his expression and motioned for me to keep going.

  “Riley told me you and Tyler didn’t get along,” I said. “I was wondering if you could tell me what you were doing the night he was murdered.”

  The metal spatula tapped against the frying pan with more force than necessary. Matisse refused to look at me. “Did the detective put you up to this?”

  “No, I’m asking for my own purposes.”

  Matisse snorted like a bull. I hoped nothing from his nose ended up in the food.

  “Yeah, right,” he said. “You think I haven’t noticed your connection with that guy? It was clear from that first night the two of you spent at the bar. He’s into you. He trusts you. That’s why you weren’t questioned yesterday, and I bet if you hadn’t volunteered, he wouldn’t have questioned you this morning.”

  “Daniel is not into me.”

  Matisse threw a disparaging glance over his shoulder. “Really? Because as far as I know, you’re the only person who’s on a first name basis with the detective in charge of a homicide investigation.”

  “I’m not here to discuss my relationship or lack thereof with Detective Hawkins,” I said shortly. “My friend might be in danger, and I’m trying to get to the bottom of it.”

  “Your friend? The leggy redhead? Why would she be a target for the killer?”

  “No, not Jazmin. Riley.”

  That got him to turn around. “What do you know about Riley?”

  “Not as much as you,” I said. “She told me you’ve been looking out for her since she was a baby.”

  “Yeah, I have.”

  “You look out for Karli too.”

  He banged the spatula against the pan to get the extra potato shreds off of it. “What’s your point? Am I not allowed to worry about the people I like?”

  “You can worry about them,” I said. “You can protect them. But you can’t kill the people who pose a threat to them.”

  Matisse dropped the spatula. It clattered to the floor, splashing oil across the baseboard of the cabinets. “You think I killed Tyler?”

  “You have a motiv
e.”

  “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Prove it.”

  “I don’t have to prove anything to you,” he said. “You’re not the law. You’re not anybody. Get out of my kitchen.”

  I did the opposite. Instead of retreating, I cornered him near the hot stove top. “Listen, Matisse. Either you tell me where you were that night, or things are going to get unpleasant. Don’t forget I speak to the dead.”

  Matisse scoffed. “Come on. Do you really expect me to believe that you’re going to get some ghost to threaten me? Your performance in the lounge yesterday was fun, but I’m not an idiot. You guys faked that pitcher falling. Your friend was standing right by that table.”

  “One more chance,” I said. “Tell me your side of the story.”

  “No. Sick your little ghost on me.”

  I smiled with only my mouth. My eyes remained hard and cold. The expression drained the color out of Matisse’s cheeks, despite him standing so close to the hot stove. I signaled to Odette. She didn’t move or touch anything, but a butcher’s knife dislodged itself from the magnet on the wall and flung itself across the room. It whizzed past Matisse’s head and lodged itself in the cabinet behind him, vibrating like an arrow.

  Matisse swore in French and clapped a hand to the side of his head. The knife had knicked the top of his ear. It wasn’t enough to warrant permanent damage, but when he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood. He tried to get past me, but I moved into his route. As big as he was compared to me, he didn’t make a second attempt to escape.

  “Okay, okay!” he said, raising his hands above his head. Blood streamed from his ear and down his neck. “I’ll tell you what I know. Just get the freakin’ ghost out of here.”

  Odette was already gone, her job done, but Matisse didn’t need to know that.

  “She stays as long as I want her to,” I told him. “Just to make sure you’re telling me the truth. Now tell me the truth, Matisse.”