K J Emrick & Kathryn De Winter - [Moonlight Bay Psychic Mystery 01-06] - A Friend in; on the Rocks; Feature Presentation; Manor of; by Chocolate Cake; A-Maze-Ing Death (retail) (epub)

by Неизвестный

  “I should think so. The guy was a friend, and he was a cop on top of it? He’s probably more upset than he’s letting on. I can’t figure out what a police officer was doing here at the hotel,” Miranda said, keeping her voice down low enough that only Kyle could hear. “An officer who Jack knew? What are the chances of that?”

  “What is it you’re always saying?” Kyle prompted her.

  “I know. Nothing is coincidence.” It was a code she lived by. “But why was Harvey Mason here? Was he working, or was he on vacation?”

  “Good questions. When Jack calms down a bit you should ask him that.”

  “I’m more interested in how he died, I suppose,” Miranda said, looking over at the body again. It was laid out on the ground, right next to the fountain, where water bubbled over three tiers of wide, round bowls.

  “Oh, he was drowned,” Kyle said.

  “What?” Miranda was surprised. “How do you know that?”

  “I caught the beginning of Jack’s phone conversation when I was over there with him. He saw it when he looked over the body. Blue lips, yadda yadda.”

  “Oh, Kyle,” she smiled at him. “What would I ever do without you?”

  He looked at her oddly when she said that, and it took her a moment to realize that was because a part of him wanted to leave this world, and move on to the next. At the same time, a part of him wanted to stay here with her, just like she wanted to keep him around, too. He was torn.

  “Yes, well,” Kyle shrugged, moving on from the awkwardness of the conversation. “This Harvey fellow is not a small guy. Drowning him would take some doing. Need a big guy to do that.”

  When he said it, he very pointedly looked over at Irving.

  Miranda wondered if he was on to something. Irving was tall, certainly, but he was sleight of build. Could he have been strong enough to overpower a police officer?

  As if he could feel Miranda’s eyes on him he turned his head to look at her for a moment before walking over to stand next to her. “What do you think?” Irving asked her.

  “Um? Hmm?” she said.

  “The murder,” he elaborated. “You’re a crime novelist. You must have some idea?”

  Miranda had no idea at all, truthfully. Nothing she could share with someone who couldn’t see ghosts, at any rate. Before she had to embarrass herself by finding some way to explain that, she saw Veronica coming around the corner of the maze with a man at her side. The proprietor of the Maze Hotel stopped short when she saw what the commotion was about and blinked through her glasses.

  “I came to check on you all,” she said, her eyes wide as she stared at the dead man by her fountain. “It’s almost lunch timeand you still hadn’t come back. I was getting worried. Sometimes people get lost in here for hours…”

  Blinking rapidly, she clamped her mouth shut, no doubt realizing she was rambling. Miranda thought she detected tears in Veronica’s eyes as the woman turned away from the body lying in the middle of her maze.

  Her companion, however, seemed to be taking it all in stride. He looked rather coldly in the direction of the body, and then shrugged before turning away from Veronica to make his way back out of the maze.

  Every instinct in Miranda’s body was telling her to follow the man and she did so, catching up with him at the next juncture.

  “Excuse me, Sir? I’m sorry to trouble you, but would you mind guiding me out of the maze?” Miranda asked, using it as an excuse to stay close to him.

  He looked at her oddly. He was not quite as tall as Irving, but he was broad shouldered, and his hands were large and calloused from work. Here was someone who could have easily overpowered Harvey Mason, she thought.

  “Uh,” she tried again, hoping she wasn’t being too suspicious, “I’m a little stunned by all of that back there and I just can’t remember how I got this far.”

  He looked down at her condescendingly, but then shrugged. “Sure. I suppose I’m going that way.”

  “Oh, thank you,” she sighed. Her ploy had worked. “Tell me, do you work here?”

  “No, I don’t work here,” he answered gruffly. “I own the hotel. My wife and I do.”

  “Oh, so you’re married to Veronica?”

  “Yes. I’m Peter Ash. You’re the famous author we have staying with us, I’m told.”

  “Miranda Wylder.” She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. So, she went back to digging. “Your wife seems terribly upset.”

  “She should be. Now we’ll have police all over the place and questions and we might even have to shut down while this investigation goes on. It’s bad enough with this Antonino Bonica business.” He stopped abruptly, his eyes flicking to her and then away again, intentionally changing the topic. “As for me, I have got a business to run. It wouldn’t do me any good to get too teary-eyed about this when I’ve got other guests to worry about.”

  “I suppose that’s true. Did Veronica know Harvey Mason well?”

  “I guess they were friendly enough,” he said noncommittally.

  “But you weren’t?”

  “I’ve seen him pretty regularly. He stays here a lot and I guess he and Veronica got on okay. He’s always commenting how much he likes her cooking, that sort of thing. Now, if you’ll excuse me, someone should be at the desk to welcome the valiant members of the localpolice force who should be showing up any moment to turn our nice hotel upside down because a man just died here.”

  The very moment they exited the maze, Peter turned to walk away rather quickly, leaving Miranda hovering alone on the neatly clipped lawn.

  “Well, he seems alright,” Kyle said in a sarcastic tone.

  “Yeah, he’s a charmer. I’m sure he was being honest with us about things, but it’s what he didn’t say, you know?” Miranda stared after him as he went. “I can’t help but get the feeling that he had some kind of beef with Harvey Manson. He doesn’t seem too shocked by his death, either.”

  “Hmm,” Kyle said thoughtfully, one hand tapping against his lips. “Let’s not forget about Daphne, and her husband being arrested for God alone knows what. She blamed Harvey, remember?”

  In the distance, Miranda could just hear the sound of approaching sirens. Here she was, in the middle of another murder mystery. Maybe she should just start writing books about her own life. They were bound to be best sellers.

  “Where’s Harvey’s ghost, do you suppose?” Miranda wondered out loud.

  “I caught a glimpse of him,” Kyle said with a slow shake of his head, “but he flicked away before I could catch up to him.”

  That was curious, to be sure. “Let me know if you see him again.”

  “You, too,” he said in turn with a wink.

  “Okay. Jack will let the local police know what’s going on. How about you and I go find Daphne and ask her what happened with her husband. I have a feeling that’s the key to this whole sad affair.”

  Before they could leave the maze though, Jack came out with Veronica and Irving right behind him.

  “We should stay out here,” he was explaining. “The police will want the scene left undisturbed. Thanks for showing me out. I doubt I could have made it on my own.”

  “Sure thing,” Irving said brightly. “Wow. A real live murder case. You must be right in your element, Miranda.”

  She didn’t answer him, except to give him a little smile. She appreciated his enthusiasm for what she did but this was real life. Someone had died. Someone who Jack knew, for that matter. This wasn’t a book where everything would be resolved in just a few chapters and everyone got a happy ending.

  In real life, there were very few happy endings.

  Without warning, Veronica fell to her knees. Tears that she obviously couldn’t keep back any longer were now streaming down her face. “Oh, Harvey! Poor, poor Harvey. I just can’t believe he’s dead.”

  “Well,” Kyle remarked, floating close to inspect Veronica’s face. “Rather upset over someone who was just staying in her hotel, don’t you think?”
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  “You were close, you and Harvey?” Jack asked the woman, unknowingly repeating the same question that Kyle had just asked. He knelt down next to Veronica and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  “The closest,” she answered with a shaky breath.

  Miranda caught something in Veronica’s voice, or maybe the way she had broken down crying. “You were having an affair.”

  “Yes,” she admitted to them. “Oh, God help me, but yes I was. I just hope that Peter didn’t do this. It was over, I promise it was, but my husband is an angry man. He holds a grudge.”

  “I see,” Jack said. There was obviously a question pressing on him. “Veronica, what did you know about Harvey? I mean, what do you know about his line of work?”

  She sniffed, looking off to the Hotel’s long driveway, where police cars were now coming into view. “Well, it was something interesting, whatever it was. He didn’t like to talk about it much. But he was always meeting with men in suits and I thought he was maybe an investor or something. I know how money men like to keep their business dealings under wraps. I just guessed that was why he was so quiet about it all.”

  “The police are here,” Kyle noted for Miranda, unnecessarily.

  “Come on,” Jack said, helping Veronica to her feet, “let me walk you back inside. The police will want to talk to you.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled at him through her tears.

  “Of course. Veronica, they’re going to want to look in whatever room Harvey was staying in. Can we get that set up for them?”

  “Certainly. Yes. I’ll just get the spare key, it’s in the office. I want to help with this investigation as much as I can,” she added, tears beginning to roll down her face once more. “Anything for Harvey.”

  “They’ll want to talk to whatever other guests you have here, too,” Jack said as they went inside.

  “Well, now that my poor Harvey is dead,” she had to pause to take a breath there. “Now, it’s just you and Miranda and that horrible Daphne woman.”

  Miranda exchanged a glance with Jack. That would definitely make it easier. Just them, and Veronica and Peter Ash, and Irving, and Daphne.

  She couldn’t help but cast a glance Irving’s way now. What was his story, really?

  “Well,” Irving said when he noticed her looking. “I’m going up to my room. I’ve got some things to take care of and I’m sure the rest of the day will be all taken up with the police asking questions.”

  “Your room?” Miranda asked. “You live in the hotel?”

  “Yes. It’s a perk of being the groundskeeper.” He nodded, and then smiled at her, and nodded at Veronica, promising to check back in later.

  When they arrived at the office through a doorway just behind the check-in desk, Veronica went right to a metal cabinet attached to the wall. She opened it to the rattling of several dozen keys. Some of them had the gray plastic diamond attached just like their room key had. Others were meant for things Miranda could only guess at.

  They all heard Veronica gasp, and then she was pawing through the keys one at a time, searching for something that was obviously gone.

  “It’s not here,” she said, looking at Jack with her eyes wide. “The spare key to Harvey’s room is missing.”

  Chapter 4

  “So,” Miranda said to Kyle, “the mystery thickens.”

  She had left Jack at the front of the hotel to talk to the police from Misty Point with Veronica and Peter, who had shown up exactly as the first officers were walking in. They were headed out to the maze to examine the scene of Harvey’s death.

  All of the arriving officers seemed to be affected by the information that Harvey Mason was a cop, one of their own. She watched them walk out, and then she went to find Daphne.

  “Where on Earth is she?” Kyle wondered out loud, stopping at the top of the stairs and crossing his arms. “It’s not like this place is all that big. Maybe Daphne’s outside? There is a huge back yard.”

  “Ah, poor baby,” she teased, looking back and forth along the long second floor hallway. There was a corner at each end, leading to the wings on either side. “I didn’t realize ghosts got tired.”

  He actually stuck his tongue out at her. “We don’t get tired, Miranda, but we do get bored sometimes. This was beginning to look like an interesting mystery but playing hide and seek with a woman who doesn’t even know we’re trying to find her? Not my idea of excitement.”

  “Come on, Watson,” she joked. “The game’s afoot.”

  “What does that even mean? Afoot. Afoot? Is this football, and we’re kicking the ball down the field to the goalie? I mean, seriously…”

  Miranda tuned him out as they went ever deeper into the building. She chose to go right just because she had to pick one direction over the other. Kyle was right though. If she couldn’t find Daphne in the halls somewhere then she could either go door to door knocking, or look outside, or she might just have to wait to ask Daphne about her husband’s arrest.

  Turning left around the corner, Miranda came to a quick halt and then scurried back, easing out slowly around the edge just enough to look up the hall.

  There was Daphne, standing outside one of the rooms, talking to someone in a low voice.

  “Did she see me?” Miranda whispered to Kyle.

  “I don’t think so,” he said, whispering back even though he knew he didn’t have to. “She’s wrapped up in talking to whoever that is in the room. Huh…”

  “Huh?” Miranda parroted.

  “Yeah, it’s weird. It’s kind of like there’s something familiar about Daphne and the guy in the room.”

  “Do they look familiar?”

  “No, it’s just a feeling. I can’t explain it, but I feel kind of weird.”

  “Maybe you’re turning psychic,” Miranda chuckled softly.

  “Funny. I’ll leave all that to you, thank you very much.” He shrugged, and floated a little further up the hall where he could hear the conversation better. “Maybe I don’t know them at all. I just can’t shake this funny feeling.”

  “But,” Miranda wondered, “who is the guy? There aren’t supposed to be any other guests… oh.”

  “Don’t go, Daphne,” the man said, and now that she could hear him talk, Miranda recognized him instantly. It was Irving, her devoted fan. “Come in with me. I don’t want to leave you alone in case this killer that’s on the loose has reason to attack you, too.”

  “Why would they have any reason to kill me?” Daphne asked with her chin thrust out. “Harvey was a cop, apparently. He was a bastard, too. He got my husband arrested and put in jail. He played with fire and it got him burned. That’s got nothing to do with me.”

  From her position, Miranda could see Irving reaching out of his room for Daphne. “I still think maybe you’re wrong about Harvey. He never said he was a cop. Don’t they have to say if you ask them?”

  “No. He told everyone he was some kind of a businessman. Even Veronica, and I know there was something going on between them. But I knew he was a cop when I saw my Nino being taken away. Harvey was right there. He cost my husband his freedom, and Nino didn’t even do anything!”

  “See, that’s what I mean,” Irving pressed. “You need to be careful, don’t you? You just never know. Come on. Come inside with me. You’ll be safe here.”

  Daphne crossed her arms. “I have a husband, Irving.”

  Irving took her hand, and promised her, “I’m not trying to take his place. But I’m here, and he’s not. Come on. Just for now.”

  The two of them disappeared inside the room and the door closed behind them and Miranda heard the lock turn on the other side. Getting braver, she tiptoed down the hall, meaning to listen outside the room.

  “You want me to float on inside?” Kyle asked her. “I don’t mind. Snooping on people is one of the few pleasures I have left to me now.”

  “Shh, and no,” Miranda said. “I need to hear this for myself.”

  “Geez,” Kyle grumped. “You tr
y to help some people.”

  Miranda ignored him and put her ear to the door.

  “Stop doing that, Irving,” she heard Daphne say. “I don’t know what we’re doing in here. Just leave that alone.”

  Okay… that did not sound good. Miranda reconsidered her decision to do it all herself. Looking up at Kyle, she inclined her head towards the room, silently suggesting that he ought to do the ghostly thing and get inside.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh. Now you want my help?”

  “Kyle!” she hissed in the barest of whispers. “Just do it!”

  “Yeah, sure,” he lamented. “Kyle do this, Kyle don’t do that… sheesh.”

  Then he slipped away through the wall. Miranda was really getting worried about her friend. If it was possible for ghosts to feel depressed, she would swear that was what was afflicting him. The fact that she couldn’t help her friend move on had been weighing on them both. Although she enjoyed the idea of him being with her for a long time to come, she was beginning to see that from Kyle’s perspective, he felt trapped.

  Pressing her ear to the door again, hearing only muffled whispers and rustling sounds, she waited.

  After a few moments, Kyle returned. “Why, they aren’t having a romantic tryst at all,” he said, looking downright disappointed. “Irving is opening drawers and looking through things and Daphne is trying to stop him. He just pulled out some papers from a drawer and asked her if she’d seen them before.”

  “So wait, it’s not his room?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Well, that’s interesting.” She took a moment to soak that in. “What’s on the papers? Is there someone’s name?”

  “Miranda, I’m getting that funny sensation again,” he said, actually wringing his hands. “I don’t know what it is. Being around those two has got me all tangled up.”

  “Kyle, you’re a ghost. What do you have to be afraid of?”

  He stared at her, and then faded back into the room, apparently going off to find a name for her if he could.

  Usually a joking comment like that from her would at least get a smile from him, or a witty comeback. He must really be upset by something here. But what could be bothering him about Daphne and Irving, two people he’d never met before?