The Mint Julep Murders

by Angie Fox

  “I’d rather dance naked through Times Square.”

  “Fine. You win.” I wasn’t going to push it. With my luck, he’d find bomb-making materials in the custodian’s closet and blow a hole in the wall for Scalieri to escape.

  I turned to Ellis. “Frankie can stay with you and run ghostly interference if you get into a bad situation,” I said, earning a harrumph from the ghost. I gave the gangster a sharp look. “As for your part, Frankie, I expect you to follow any ghosts who show themselves. And be sure to ask them if they saw anything or if it’s them on the recording.”

  The gangster nodded like a surly teenager. “The quicker we solve this, the faster I can get Scalieri out,” he grumbled.

  “That’s the spirit,” I said.

  I might even run into Dr. Anderson or Nurse Claymore in the treatment areas upstairs. It seemed to be the place where they did most of their work, I thought with a shudder. Even still, I had to maintain my focus. Yes, they’d subjected their patients to questionable, downright cruel treatments, but they could well hold the key to this mystery. Both of them seemed to care deeply about what happened at this hospital. Nurse Claymore, in particular, had an eye on things. And Dr. Anderson held the key to the front door.

  I couldn’t forget that.

  We’d solve Barbara’s murder and help the ghosts here find a way out of this terrible place. I clung to that thought as I kissed Ellis goodbye and made my way down the darkened hallway toward the spiral stairs.

  I opened the door to the lobby. It lay dark, quiet. And then I heard the voices upstairs.

  “Don’t do it!” cried a man.

  It came from the second floor.

  “I have to!”

  That was Brett.

  “Brett?” I called, heading for the main staircase.

  “No, please. Listen,” a voice echoed down.

  I took the stairs two at a time. That was Cash.

  “It’s wrong. It’s all wrong,” Cash cried.

  The voices were coming from the south hall, from the part I hadn’t explored yet. A ghostly glow flooded out from a doorway at the far end. “Stop!” Cash screamed as I rushed in to save him.

  17

  I dashed down the darkened hallway toward the ghostly light pouring from a room at the far end.

  Heaven help all of us. I had no special strength, no insight, no skill to solve whatever problem Brett and Cash were trying to face. The only thing I had going for me was my ability to see the other side. And at that moment, I probably didn’t want to witness the horrors going on in that room.

  Cash uttered a sharp cry, and I feared I’d be too late. Still, I didn’t dare call out to reassure him.

  I crunched over broken glass, nearly tripping over a prostrate IV holder. It skidded into the wall, making way too much noise. Stars, I should have been more careful coming up the stairs. They could be in there with the killer, and I didn’t want to announce my presence any more than I already had.

  I stopped, doubled back, and grabbed the discarded IV holder. It was metal. It was long. It was the only thing even remotely weaponlike at my disposal. I hefted it, prepared to defend myself if it came to that. Ellis would be ticked that I was jumping into the middle of this, but there was nothing I could do about that now.

  The glowing room up ahead and to the right had gone deathly silent.

  I slowed as I drew near. I didn’t want to make more noise than I had already.

  “Cash?” Brett warbled, his voice sounding wet and shaky.

  If he’d just killed his partner, I’d be nuts to try to go up against him with a half-rotted medical device.

  I clutched my weapon tight and stopped outside the door. My palms had gone slick against the metal. I could turn around and leave. It would be the smart thing to do.

  But then I’d be no further than when I started, and we’d never get out of here. I curled a hand around the doorjamb.

  “Something’s out there,” Cash whispered, breathless.

  I readjusted my grip on my weapon. Thank God he wasn’t lying dead on the floor.

  “You getting a reading?” Cash pressed.

  “No,” Brett hissed.

  That was because it was me.

  I straightened, letting out the breath I’d been holding. “You’re both alive.” I braved the doorway and immediately regretted it when a metal chair whizzed past my hip. “Hey, now!” It could have hit me. Would have if I hadn’t dodged sideways. “What’s the deal?”

  The men stood ready to defend themselves in a patient examination room that glowed brightly with ghostly energy.

  “Stay back,” Brett ordered. He wore night-vision goggles and wielded a pointy metal rod that glowed red at the end.

  Along the back wall stood a line of bathtubs. In our world, rust streaked down the cracked porcelain, forming pools on the dirty, cracked tile floor. In the ghostly realm, a large vat of ice stood next to each sterile white tub. Straps lay slack, ready to bind a patient inside.

  “Believe me, I’m not the scariest thing in this room,” I told them.

  Large glass picture windows were painted over in black, blocking any view of escape and the outside.

  This must be where they’d taken Loretta, the place where she’d faced treatments she had deemed worse than death. A thick tarp shrouded the tub at the far-left corner of the row, and I swore I heard a faint splashing coming from inside.

  My gut went cold. “Who’s in the tub?”

  If somebody was trapped in there, we needed to get them out.

  “Nobody,” Cash said, barely glancing at it. He adjusted his night-vision goggles and pointed his camera at me. “Now, stop where you are.”

  “Cash, there’s somebody in the tub. I can hear splashing,” I told him.

  But he wasn’t listening. “We’ve got you dead to rights,” Cash insisted. “You kill us, you’re on video. It’s uploading to the cloud right now.”

  Oh, come on. “You really think I’m the killer?” That hurt. I mean, I could name a few people who didn’t like me—Ellis’s mother being a prime example—but even Virginia Wydell hadn’t pegged me for a cold-blooded murderer. Brett backed up a step. Cash’s hand shook as he filmed me, ready for me to make my homicidal move. I rested a hand on my hip. “If I was going to murder you, I’d have done it by now, and I wouldn’t have used an IV rack.” I abandoned it by the door and approached the two men. “I also know you’re not recording to the cloud because we have no Wi-Fi in this place.”

  Brett cursed under his breath.

  “And if you somehow found a Wi-Fi hookup, you would have called the police when you realized you were trapped in here with a killer.” At least I hoped that was the case. There was enthusiastic ghost hunting and then there was unhealthy obsession. “Stop the retreat or one of you is going to stumble backward into an empty tub.”

  Cash lowered his camera. “Now you sound more like my mother than a killer.”

  I’d take that.

  “She still could be the killer, man,” Brett said, refusing to lower his pointy stick.

  “Nah.” Cash shook his head. “No way she could even hide a weapon in those tight shorts.”

  “Hey, now, that’s inappropriate,” I warned.

  “Plus, she’s here with the police.” Cash gestured helplessly. “Officer Wydell showed me his badge.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I read an article about him this past summer. He solved a murder on some train.”

  “I helped him with that,” I said, hooking my thumbs into the pockets of my appropriately modest jean shorts, hoping I didn’t sound too braggy. These guys needed to trust me. “It was a double murder involving a ghost,” I added. Okay, so maybe I was a little proud.

  Brett grinned at that. “Well, if that don’t beat all,” he said, lowering the wand.

  So that was the way to his heart—killer spooks. He’d make some lady very happy.

  They’d found one of the most haunted rooms I’d seen tonight. “I didn’t mean to barge in and freak
you out,” I explained, “but you sounded like you were in trouble.”

  Cash glanced at his partner. “We heard rushing water.”

  “And a scream,” Brett added. “I wanted to turn on some very specific equipment.”

  “And I still think that’s a horrible idea,” Cash said to his partner.

  Brett sighed. “This was one of the rooms where they did experimental treatments,” he said, motioning to thick ropes rotting on hooks along the right wall. “They’d tie women up on the floor by that drain,” he added, pointing to a rusty hole in the concrete floor.

  “This is what you do in your spare time?” I asked. “Pursue these people who lived and died so tragically?”

  “We’re not gawking,” Brett insisted. “We’re not in here because we enjoy these stories or look at this place as some sort of ghost shrine. We’re here because we want to learn more about the people who lived and died here.”

  “We’ve developed scientific equipment to measure their presence, and we want to tell their stories,” Cash added.

  That made more sense. “I get it.” I nodded. “I really do.”

  Brett let out a harsh breath. “People are trapped here.”

  “I know,” I said, thinking of Loretta in the stairwell, of Levi locked in his room upstairs. Charlie, who had supposedly gone missing, now wandering the basement. I looked to the tub in the corner and saw the canvas shift. There was something, someone underneath.

  We couldn’t just leave her—or him—there.

  “Turn on your instruments and come with me,” I said, starting for the tub in the corner.

  Cash hefted the camera once more.

  “That’s where we got the big reading,” Brett said on an exhale.

  “We’re not going to try your experimental machine on it,” Cash warned, “we’re not.”

  “How else do we know if it works?” Brett snapped.

  “These are people,” Cash shot back.

  “Guys.” I stopped several yards away from the tub. “What in heaven’s name are you talking about?”

  But Brett was already distracted, staring at a box tied to his belt. “We just jumped from a three to a seven,” he said quickly, excited.

  “No way.” Cash crowded next to him to see, excited as a kid with a new puppy. “Highest we got downstairs was a four.”

  “What does your new machine do?” I pressed.

  Brett looked up and he took a second to process my question. “Oh,” he said, “it measures the spectramanomic frequency of the beta waves emitted by spectral entities and uses a magnetic pulse to intensify the signal.”

  He’d lost me on spectramanomic. “Give me the simple version,” I pressed.

  The guys exchanged a look. “That was the simple version,” Brett said, not even bothering to sugarcoat it.

  I started to speak, but Cash broke in, “Look, it basically magnifies a ghost. But like I told Brett, that’s a bad idea in a haunted asylum.”

  “Because we need to test it out on ghost crickets or something,” Brett said, throwing up a hand like an Italian grandmother.

  “We could visit a haunted convent,” Cash suggested, “ask really nicely if any of the nuns would let us use it.”

  “Or maybe we could ask some nice old lady about ghost kittens,” Brett added sarcastically.

  “I know a ghost horse,” I told him.

  “This is beside the point,” Cash said. “That device is too dangerous. I forbid you to use it,” he said to his friend.

  Brett snorted. “Says the guy who forgot his spectrometer at Denny’s last week.”

  A low moan sounded from the tub behind me, echoing off the concrete and tile.

  “Shit,” Cash said under his breath.

  “You heard it too?” I asked, turning.

  “Hell yes,” Brett choked out.

  Water splashed inside the tub.

  “I heard that, too!” Brett gasped, pointing his stick at the tub.

  “If someone’s trapped in there, we need to get her out,” I said, sounding much braver than I felt.

  Nerves quivering, I approached the tub, with Brett and Cash right behind me. I could hear my breath, wet in my ears.

  “We can really get her out?” Brett whispered.

  “I hope so,” I said, bracing myself against the chill of the air surrounding the tub. Goose bumps danced up my arms. “I’ve helped a ghost to the light before.”

  This could even be Juliet’s friend Loretta. Maybe all she needed was a little understanding, someone to show her the way to a better place. I couldn’t imagine her wanting to stay trapped in a cycle she’d killed herself to escape.

  “Put it down, Brett,” Cash hissed.

  The pipes groaned, and ghostly water began rushing into the tub.

  A woman sobbed and pushed against the tarp.

  “Heaven almighty!” I ripped the tarp from the tub in this realm and the ghostly one. The pain of it shot down my arm and hollowed my chest. I fell back, heart racing, as the ghost of a woman shot up from the tub with a shrill scream.

  She wore a soaking white gown that looked more like a nurse’s uniform, along with a crooked white cap with a cross on it. Her face was bloated like a drowning victim, her hair torn out in spots. Her maniacal stare focused on me.

  “Get in the tub!” she ordered.

  “Oh, heck no.” I stumbled back, straight into Brett, who aimed his pointy stick at her and fired a blast of energy. I saw the impact of the invisible beam he sent her, watched her image flutter like a rock tossed in a pond, then grow more substantial.

  She reached for me.

  “Talk to us,” Brett called, feeding her power. “It’s okay.”

  It was not okay. We didn’t need her stronger. We needed her gone. Suddenly, I was moving closer to the tub against my will, my feet dragging across the floor.

  “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,” I repeated like a mantra. The soles of my sneakers skidded against the old linoleum as I fought the unseen force.

  And just when I thought she had me, the energy grew and overtook her. Cash grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back as I watched the ripple overtake the ghost and swallow her up until only darkness remained.

  “That was awful,” I stammered, steadying myself against the young ghost hunter in the dark. I couldn’t believe she’d grabbed me like that. I fought off the chill and the lingering effects of her shimmering energy.

  “The meter’s back down to zero,” Brett reported.

  The spirit had fled.

  “She was after us,” Cash said, breathing hard.

  “After me,” I corrected.

  “Maybe after me now that I zapped her,” Brett worried.

  Dang, it was dark. Dark was great. Dark meant we were alone.

  “She was bad,” Cash warned. “Evil.”

  “Well, wait. Maybe not evil,” I said. At least I hoped not. “You can’t just assume evil. But she wasn’t our friend.”

  “She tried to drag you in with some crazy ghost tractor beam,” Brett practically shouted.

  “And you wanted to make her stronger,” Cash accused his friend.

  “It worked for a brief time,” I said, “then it seems the enhanced energy was too much for the ghost and burned her out.”

  “Okay, I didn’t want to mention this before, but I kind of used it on the doors downstairs when Verity was trapped in that hallway,” Brett admitted.

  “You what?” Cash balked.

  “I saw the ghostly glow on the locks get brighter,” I said, remembering. “Then it burned itself out.”

  Kind of like what happened just now.

  Cash cursed under his breath. “We can’t count on zapping every ghost we see. In fact, we need to get out of the asylum before this one gets her energy back.” I jumped when he placed something plastic in my hands. “Here. Night-vision goggles. I always carry a spare.”

  “Thanks,” I said, putting them on, shocked when my world went to green on black. “Okay, this is neat,” I said, seeing Cas
h next to me and, beside him, Brett checking the meter attached to his belt.

  “How did you see before?” Cash asked as if the question had just occurred to him.

  I explained how the ghost side lit up for me, and how Brett’s invention had ultimately consumed the energy rather than growing it.

  “This is terrible.” Brett’s shoulders slumped. “It was supposed to be my big breakthrough, but all I’ve done is make us a target for a big bad ghost.”

  “It’s genius,” I countered. “It could be our way to leave the asylum tonight.”

  Brett merely shook his head, still caught up in his invention’s perceived failure, while Cash’s face lit up. “We can use it to weaken the dominant ghost’s hold on the doors.”

  “Or the windows, or whatever spot is the least haunted.”

  “I’ve got an app for that,” Cash said, “or at least the measuring equipment. App sounds sexier, though.”

  Brett made a weak gesture. “I’ll have to charge the battery back up.”

  “How long will that take?” I asked.

  “About a half hour,” he said, recovering his enthusiasm. “Hey, at least it does something useful.”

  “We may only have one shot at this,” I said, my mind already working ahead.

  “Yeah,” Cash agreed, “I don’t think the ghost who’s keeping us here is going to let us zap his energy twice.”

  “If we don’t escape quickly, he’ll probably snap my stick in half,” Brett said.

  “Then we’ll have two angry monsters to deal with,” Cash quipped.

  “And a killer,” Brett added.

  These boys needed to look on the bright side. If we did it right, one chance would be all we’d need. “We can pull this off,” I said. “As soon as you charge up the battery, we’ll get everybody out.”

  “In the meantime, I’ll check the doors and windows downstairs,” Cash volunteered. “There might be an exit that’s weaker than the rest.”

  “If there is, we’ll find it,” Brett vowed. “What?” he said at Cash’s pointed stare. “I can move and charge at the same time.”

  “Sounds good,” I told them. “While you’re doing that, I’ll relay our plan to Ellis and track down the Burowskis.”

  Cash took my arm. “Hold up. You want to invite the killers?”