by Неизвестный
“Oh my God,” Debra said, as if suddenly terrified. “You mean this was a mob hit?”
“Looks like,” Dixon said. “Now Debra, you had the perfect opportunity to kill Stewart Carter. Only, he was strangled. No offense, but looking at you here, you don’t seem strong enough to strangle a man to death.”
“Under the circumstances, Detective, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You’re welcome,” Dixon said drily. “No, we’re looking for someone with mob ties.”
He turned his gaze, once again, on Johnny Fletcher.
“Oh, come on!” Johnny squawked as he sat forward hands spread out in front of him. “What makes you think I’m the one with mob ties?”
“You’re the only one with a real interest in this place,” Miranda pointed out again. “You were very quick to cast doubt on your boss. You’ve had access all day to his office, and a man with a cook’s hands would certainly be strong enough to strangle him to death.”
Dixon looked impressed.
“So what?” Johnny sneered.
“Oh.” Joe Dixon snapped his fingers. “I forgot to mention the tape in the machine, didn’t I? Silly me. You see, Johnny, Stewart Carter had a voice recorder in his desk drawer.”
Dixon smiled and held up a police evidence bag containing a small and perfectly intact cassette tape. “It makes for interesting listening, actually. Just earlier today, you can be heard arguing with Stewart. In your argument, you intimidate him by dropping names of people the Victoria Police have been watching for months now. You’re so connected to the mob you might as well get the name tattooed across your forehead.”
Behind Miranda, Kyle laughed.
“This is a crock of…” Johnny began.
“No, it isn’t,” Dixon cut in. “You were ordered to search Miranda Wylder’s home for incriminating evidence against your mob boss.”
“What evidence would that be?” Johnny cockily sat back in his chair and folded his arms once again.
“That, we don’t know yet. But it’s only a matter of time until we find it. We also believe that you were ordered to kill Miranda Wylder after that evidence was retrieved.” Johnny jumped out of his chair and looked ready to break someone’s head.
Before Johnny could say a word Dixon yelled, “Sit. Down!” as he grabbed Johnny by the arm and forced him back into his chair.
“As I was saying. If you don’t think we have enough evidence to arrest you right now…” Dixon continued as he turned and beckoned a young officer who had been standing on the sidelines all of this time to step forward. He was holding in his hands another evidence bag with a dirty pair of boots inside. “Our search of this place uncovered this pair of boots in your locker Johnny. Want to bet that these match up with the boot prints at the murder scene. You’re not too bright either are you Johnny. Why keep these? Why didn’t you get rid of them? It seems that you have made one mistake after another. You’re not a very competent mobster, are you?”
Johnny sneered at Dixon and then swallowed hard when the cop turned away from him for a moment. He began to fidget in his seat and Miranda could see a fine sheen of sweat breaking out over his face.
“Now, to continue…” Dixon handed the boots back to the young officer. “The mob would be safe, and you’d get what every piece of filth like you wants most. Money. Once you’d completed your assignment that is. Oh and by the way the last thing on the tape is you, strangling Stewart Carter to death. Sorry, Johnny. I guess Stewart got you real good, huh?”
Johnny jumped up so fast the chair skidded backwards and overturned coming to rest next to the rear wall. He slammed his hands down on the table with fury emanating from every muscle of his body. “I knew that weasel was up to something,” he snarled. “He called me into his office and told me he knew who I was and who I work for. He said he wanted ten million dollars to buy his silence and if I didn’t pay him, he’d rat me out to the cops out front. Can you believe it? Ten million!” A vein was visibly twitching in his temple by now. “I told him he was crazy. The idiot tried to blackmail me! Before I knew it, I was squeezing the life out of him. And I enjoyed doing it.” He took a deep breath and sat back down, a look of fear slowly replacing the rage in him. “They said if I failed with her…” He gestured toward Miranda. “They warned me that they were going to kill me if I didn’t deal with her! Look, I want protection. I can give you names. I can give you people. I can be valuable to you!”
“For all the good it will do you,” Dixon sneered back. “And nice try using Markus’ fake emails to try and put Debra here in the frame. You tried to put the blame everywhere but on your own head, didn’t you?”
At Dixon’s signal, two uniformed officers handcuffed Johnny and read him his rights. They led him out still ranting and raving, and silence followed after him.
Miranda rose from the table. “Thank you, Detective Dixon, for listening to me.”
His smile was a lot friendlier than it had been before. “Not sure how I’m going to write some of this up, but it was good to work with you, Miss Wylder. Maybe later I can get you to sign your book for me?”
“Detective, it would be my pleasure.”
She nodded to Kyle that he should follow, and the two made their way outside into the twilight.
Kyle was shaking his head. “Well, I wasn’t expecting it to be Johnny.”
“Your killer’s been caught,” Miranda said, with a sad smile. “It’s done. I guess… I guess you’ll be going now.”
“I guess so,” Kyle said. He looked all around him. He looked up at the sky. He looked back at Miranda. “Er, when?”
“Do you see anything Kyle? A bright light anywhere?”
“A light? Is that really a thing? I thought they just made that up for the movies.”
“You don’t feel, I don’t know, a tug like someone’s pulling you home?”
“Nope. Huh. Looks like I’m here for a bit longer.” Kyle grinned. “Maybe I’m supposed to keep you safe? Like a guardian angel type of a deal. Yeah! That’s me. Kyle Hunter, guardian angel.”
“Oh, Lord help me,” Miranda groaned. Truthfully, she liked the idea of her friend still being here.
Suddenly, a big hand clapped her on the shoulder. Miranda gasped and turned around.
It was Joe Dixon.“One more thing, Miss Wylder. Now that Johnny has been arrested and we have your research I’m fairly confident that you are safe from the mob. But just in case maybe you should leave town for a while. Have a little holiday or something. Make yourself scarce, you know?” Miranda wasn’t sure what to think of that. Dixon gave her shoulder a little squeeze and continued, “I know I thought you were a suspect to start with, but you really proved yourself. Seriously, if you ever want a job as a consultant, you’ve got it. You know, if you ever get tired of the crazy psychic act.”
And with that, he strode away.
Miranda looked behind her to see Debra Thomas and Markus Stidham staring at her. Clearly Dixon had said the last bit way too loud. So, the very thing she feared was coming to pass. There was no way Markus would keep that to himself. Debra either. With a sigh, Miranda strode off through the parking lot to her car.
Kyle was already in the passenger seat. “What’s up?” he asked when he saw the expression on her face.
“You know that psychic thing is going to be all around the place by the end of the week.”
“True enough. Dixon’s got a big mouth, and Markus is a gossip.” Kyle shrugged one hazy blue shoulder. “But is that so bad?”
“Yeah. Look, I moved to Melbourne to get away from Sydney because everyone there knew me as the crazy psychic lady. I hated it.
“So, what now?” Kyle said. “I’ll go wherever you go, kid! I’m not even sure if I have a choice.”
“Well… I don’t ever want to spend another moment in that house after what happened to you… and I could still be a target for the mob… so I guess I’ll be looking for a new place to live.”
Miranda thought back to the letter from he
r Uncle Horatio. Smiling suddenly, she turned to Kyle.
“I’ve got an idea. Have you ever heard of a small town called Moonlight Bay?”
“Nope.” He said, grinning. “Let’s go!”
And with that, Miranda put the key in the ignition and fired up the engine. It was time to start a new chapter in her life.
-End-
Death on the Rocks
A Moonlight Bay Psychic Mystery Short Read 2
Description
From the author of the Darcy Sweet Mystery Series.
* * *
After the events in Melbourne that led to the death of her best friend, Miranda Wylder has found a dream home in Moonlight Bay.
While watching the sea crashing on the beach one evening, a golden retriever shows up at her door.
He leads her on a merry chase through the sand and at the end she discovers the dead body of his owner, slumped on the rocks, once again thrusting her into a murder mystery.
She can’t turn her back even if she wanted to as there is another ghost who needs her help.
The investigation leads to one of Moonlight Bay's wealthy families that the victim was involved with. But when the detective in charge of the investigation catches Miranda snooping around he is less than happy.
In this Psychic Mystery, will the truth be unveiled or will the killer get away with the tide?
Chapter 1
Miranda Wylder stared out across the rugged landscape, down to the cliffs and out to the beautiful blue sea where it met the sky. She could hear the waves pounding on the rocks down on the beach. It was quite windy even though the day itself was a mild one.
Moonlight Bay was a frequently mild and sunny pocket of beauty on the southern coast of Australia about one hundred kilometers west of Melbourne.
Miranda turned her face up to the sky to feel the warmth of the early evening sun on her skin. As she lost herself in the moment, she became aware of the TV being turned up horribly loud inside the house. Poor old Ragged Rest! The house had never had so much noise inside when her Uncle Horatio was in residence.
He’d asked her to housesit while he was off galivanting on his latest adventure. Having every reason to want out of her Melbourne suburb for a while, Miranda had finally written back to him and told him certainly, she would like to spend several nights in a spooky old house. A nice, quiet retreat—
“Yeah!” Kyle yelled at the television. “Take that!”
With a sigh, Miranda thought—not for the first time—that she would have to confiscate the TV remote from Kyle permanently. For a ghost, he was hardly peaceful. He liked to be loud, and he liked to make a racket, and she had to wonder if he was just trying to remind her that he was around.
From inside, the television volume received competition from a radio that was suddenly cranked to eleven.
“Mission accomplished,” Miranda grumbled to herself. “Hard to forget he’s around when he keeps acting like he owns the place.”
She turned to look inside, through the immense patio doors. Kyle was in his element, perched on the edge of his seat and totally enthralled by the action movie he was watching, now themed to the music of Katy Perry. All that was missing was the popcorn.
She felt a sad smile cross her lips as the wind caught the ends of her deep red hair and brushed them across her shoulders. Kyle had always loved to watch a movie with a huge glass bowl of warm buttery popcorn. That was a pleasure he was never going to be able to enjoy ever again. This was real life, after all, not a Bill Murray movie… ghosts couldn’t eat food.
Once again, Miranda felt a dreadful pang of guilt. The only reason Kyle was a ghost, instead of a living and breathing popcorn-munching person, was because of her. It had been nothing to do with Kyle. He’d been an innocent casualty of her digging into the methods and culture of the mob. Her first crime novel, The Mob’s Calling, had cut a little too close to the bone for some people, apparently. Which is why they had come after her.
Kyle had just been caught in the crossfire, so to speak.
And yet, despite all of that, Kyle had never once thrown the ugly truth in her face. Not only that, but the fact that he was a ghost who seemed unable to move on to the next realm of existence did not appear to trouble him in any way. That’s exactly how Kyle had been in life. Mister Happy-Go-Lucky, all excited buffoonery, and sandals.
He kicked his sandals up on the coffee table now, the hazy blue image of his spirit turning in his seat to face her, almost as if he could sense her thinking about him. He was the spitting image of himself from when he’d been alive. Tall and thin and wiry. Sandy brown hair and lighter brown beard, the beard trimmed and combed neat and his hair tousled just so.
“What’s the view like out there today?” he asked her.
With a smile, she cupped a hand to her ear, pretending not to hear him. “What’s that? If you want to talk to me you’ll have to turn all that noise down!”
Rolling his eyes, Kyle reached out to the open air toward the TV, and the volume went down. He did the same sort of Jedi motion to the radio and it shut off. He could control electronics, to an extent. Most ghosts could.
“That’s better,” Miranda said to him. “It’s beautiful out here, as always.” She spared a sigh for the beauty of creation before walking into the living room to join him, sliding the patio door closed behind her.
“We should go for a walk,” Kyle suggested. “After the movie.”
“Sure. Why not.” Miranda sighed. “I just wish I didn’t have errands to run tomorrow. I’m just in the mood to spend the whole day floating about Ragged Rest.”
“Hey, I’m the only one who gets to float,” Kyle said, laughing, “and you should be used to your routine here by now. It’s been a few months now, Miranda.”
“Well, I guess it’s when you get used to a routine that something always comes along to upset it.” Miranda laughed, then turned sharply when she heard a gentle thud on the glass of the patio door.
Her attention was drawn down low to where a big Golden Retriever sat with his nose pressed firmly against the glass.
“Are you serious, pooch? Did you hear me just say that bit about something coming along to upset our routine, or what?”
Miranda knelt and pantomimed to the dog through the glass for a moment, with him following her finger and bumping his nose into the door again and again. He was adorable. Standing up she reached over for the handle of the sliding door.
“Well don’t just let him in,” Kyle complained loudly.
“Why not?”
“You don’t know where he’s been! He could track mud everywhere or fleas or… or salmonella!”
Miranda gave him a hard stare. “Seriously? Kyle, are you afraid of dogs?”
“Bah,” he scoffed at her. “Of course not. Besides, I’m a ghost. We do all the scaring, right?”
“Oh, I’m just quaking in my socks,” she muttered as she slid the door open. The mutt came bounding in, tongue lolling, prancing from foot to foot with seemingly endless energy.
She crouched down to pet the adorable animal. “Now then, what is your name?” Miranda twisted the heavy leather collar around until she found the bright silvery disc she was looking for.
Kyle tentatively floated up next to Miranda, easing closer until the dog twitched and stuck his snout out to sniff at the air around him. “Oh! I think he can see me! Get away, get away!”
He floated back, through the couch, staying low on the other side so that only the top of his head was visible.
Miranda shook her head. Men.
Well… ghosts, in this case.
Her fingers found the tag on the collar. “Butter,” Miranda read off the disc. “What a nice name. And it says here that you belong to Alice Gill. Well, maybe I should get you back home, huh? Here’s the address. Hmm. That’s just a short drive away. Sound good to you boy?” She ruffled the fur on the dog’s head. “Hey, what’s that on your paw?”
As soon as Miranda said that, Butter turned and walked out th
rough the open patio door.
He stopped just outside and whined, looking Miranda right in the eyes.
“Kyle, it looks like he has a little blood on his paw.” She studied the dog closer now. “I think he’s trying to tell me something.”
“So… take a message and send him on his way,” Kyle said from his position behind the couch. “He’s a dog, Miranda. What could he possibly be saying? Timmy’s down the well?”
“Oh so funny, Kyle Hunter!”
Butter whined again and took a step towards Miranda, then a step back again. Closer, back. Closer, back.
There was no denying it now. This dog wanted to tell her something.
As a psychic, she was used to getting messages from the universe. Flashes of the future. Glimpses of the past. Ghosts, too, she reminded herself as she glanced over at Kyle. She supposed it shouldn’t surprise her when an obviously intelligent animal like Butter came seeking her out to bring a message of his own.
“Come on,” Miranda said to Kyle.
He finally came out from behind the couch. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
“No, I’m serious. He obviously wants us to follow him. His energy is kind of sad, too.”
“Fine,” Kyle said, blowing out a long-suffering sigh. “Then let’s go follow Rin Tin Tin.”
“Butter,” she corrected him.
“I was being sarcastic,” he said with another sigh.
“You know you don’t actually breathe anymore, right?”
“Are we going to follow the dog,” he asked, his pride tweaked, “or are we going to stand here pointing out how dead I am?”
“Er, right. Sorry.”
Miranda set off at a run, with Kyle zooming along effortlessly beside her. When he saw that he’d gotten their attention, Butter led Miranda and Kyle down onto the beach where the sun was just starting to reach down to the water’s edge.