by Traci Wilton
Shivering, she watched Sam until he drove out of sight and then returned to her guests inside.
Celeste, Asher, Joey, and Tommy had switched from wine to a pumpkin beer she got through Brews and Broomsticks where her friend Kevin worked.
Celeste sauntered over with a raised brow. “Are you in hot water with the cops? Two visits in an hour?”
Embarrassed, Charlene laughed off the question. “The detective and I go way back, that’s all.”
“Does this have anything to do with the sexy Alaric from last night’s ball?” Celeste sighed dramatically and pulled her collar from her throat. “I wouldn’t have minded baring my neck for him.”
Tommy, Joey, and Asher joined them. “You still goin’ on about that dead vamp?” Tommy asked with a sneer.
“You’re just jealous.” Celeste winked at him over her beer.
“Obviously.” Tommy blew her a kiss.
“Celeste said that you were cool with me staying over . . . do you have another room? I’m happy to pay.” Asher brought a wad of twenties from his pocket.
“Nope. Everything’s full through Wednesday.” Charlene’s suites were booked through November and part of December, but the singles were harder to fill.
Asher stuffed the cash back and sipped his pumpkin ale. “Thanks.”
Tommy nudged Celeste. “You can bunk with me, if you want.”
She rolled her eyes. “You, Tommy Ramirez, snore.”
“Is that what kept me from sleeping this morning?” Asher groused.
“Sorry. Deviated septum.” Tommy rubbed the bridge of his nose with a shrug. He was cute in a clean-cut way while Asher had a bad-boy edge, from his bat tattoos to the titanium rings on his fingers. No earrings.
“Just busting your balls, dude.” Asher half-smiled. “I’m a light sleeper.”
“I don’t mind,” Celeste said flirtatiously, linking her arm through Asher’s.
Asher lifted his beer. “Problem solved.”
Celeste stepped toward the sideboard. “The brie was delish, Charlene. Do you have any more chips for the bean dip?”
“Sure do.” Charlene hurried to the pantry for another bag of tortilla chips and filled the empty bowl. The topic of Alaric and his death had waned to the subject of vampires in general.
“The sexiest vampire ever was Brad Pitt in Interview with the Vampire,” Chloe announced.
“I think Alaric was hotter. Hey, Charlene, did you know him?” Emma asked. Her husband shook his head good-naturedly.
“I didn’t. Just met last night, actually. Alaric was . . .” she paused, “dating my friend’s daughter.” Charlene turned to Asher. “You knew him though, right? I’m sorry for your loss.”
His eyes narrowed. “Not like we were close, but yeah. Thanks. Uh, you could reach Serenity, Charlene?”
“Sure, but I’m more friends with her mom. Why?”
“Alaric spoke highly of her.” He shuffled from one black leather boot to the other. “It just really sucks.”
“It does.” Charlene finished her wine. “She’s hurting right now.”
His brow furrowed, and she could tell he was struggling with what to say.
“I can pass on your condolences if you like.”
“It’s all right.” Asher ruffled his hair. “Like I said, Alaric never introduced us.”
Celeste gave him a side hug and changed the subject. “Charlene, we had a bonfire on the beach last night. Can’t do that where we’re from.”
“That sounds like fun. But cold.” Charlene straightened the napkins on the sideboard. “Was it crowded?”
“It was Halloween, so yeah, there were a ton of people not ready to go home,” Tommy said.
“Most of the girls were in sexy costumes,” Joey said, clinking beers with Tommy.
Charlene shook her head. “That must have been the after-after-party. Don’t you agree that the alien and Aphrodite were the best choice to win?”
Celeste drank her beer. “Yeah. But that tree was amazing, and the pirate was cool too.”
“The parrot on his arm actually squawked,” Asher said. “The pirate knew a lot about Salem—going on about the history of the Hawthorne Hotel.”
“It’s supposed to be haunted.” Charlene fake-shivered. Speaking of ghosts, where was Jack? She was getting a second wind.
“According to the tour we took on Thursday,” Andrew said, “every building in Salem has a ghost.”
On that, Charlene changed the subject. “I really wanted to vote for your Dalmatians,” Charlene told Chloe and Braydon. “But I had to be impartial.”
The couple high-fived.
“I thought my baseball player was pretty good,” Tommy said. “And I wanted a shot at the five hundred bucks.”
“Asher was a boring vampire.” Celeste looked up at him. “But my witch wasn’t very creative either, so I can’t mock him too hard.”
“Hey!” Asher stepped away from Celeste. “I had fangs special-made, but I lost them somewhere.”
“We are definitely coming back next year,” Chloe said.
Braydon nodded. “With more elaborate costumes than our Dalmatians. And we want to stay a full week. I had no idea that there would be so much to see in Salem. Four days isn’t enough.”
“Let’s put in for vacation as soon as we get back home,” Chloe suggested.
“Benefit of being self-employed,” Asher said. “I can do what I want, whenever I want.”
“What do you do?” Emma asked.
“It’s classified, but all on the computer.” Asher lifted a shoulder.
“These days that’s the way to go!” Braydon agreed.
“Me, Celeste, and Joey bartend in Jersey,” Tommy said. “Easy money.”
It didn’t sound near as impressive as “classified,” Charlene thought. Could Celeste glow any brighter as she stared at Asher?
“That’s hard work,” Emma countered. “I bartended in college.”
“That’s how it started for me too, but then I made more money than I did with my hospitality degree.” Tommy and Celeste looked at one another and shared a laugh.
“Skipped college,” Asher said. “I’ve been making money on my own since I was sixteen.”
“Entrepreneur. Good for you.” Charlene wondered why he flashed his cash around. To gain friends, maybe?
“Had to. Mom died. No dad.” Asher cleared his throat. “No big deal. I love being independent.”
At that, Celeste melted toward Asher, and Tommy’s eyes narrowed.
Jealousy was not a pretty emotion to witness, and Charlene was reminded of Dru. “Hey, did any of you happen to see the young man who caused a scene last night, about ten?”
“I thought for sure there was going to be a fight, but Alaric was chill after getting punched,” Celeste said. “Remember, Asher? Tommy, you and Joey had just gone to get another round.”
“Yeah. Tall, skinny dude, drunk out of his mind.” Asher finished his beer and set the empty on a table. “Alaric wasn’t in any danger from him.” He blew out a breath.
“It was tense,” Chloe said. “But the committee handled it well, escorting him out before he could actually do anything.”
“That was Stephanos.” Charlene had been glad he’d stepped in. “He’s a leader in the Wiccan community here.”
“Witches are real?” Celeste asked.
Charlene nodded. “Not in the hocus-pocus sense, but in their spiritual beliefs.”
“I love Salem!” Celeste said. “What do you say, Tommy? Joey? Should we just move here?”
“Slow down, slow down.” Tommy lowered his hands. “We have lives in Jersey City.”
“I can put you in touch with someone if you want bartending jobs,” Charlene said. “Kevin at Brews and Broomsticks.”
“That would be cool.” Celeste’s eyes shone. “Every day living in an old town filled with magic. What do you think, Asher?”
“Witches and vampires and pirates. What’s not to love? But for me personally”—he touched h
is chest—“I plan to travel the world, not settle in Salem. Been there, done that.”
“Got the T-shirt,” Joey joked.
Celeste dropped her gaze and Tommy clapped his hand over her shoulder. “You got me, babe.”
But Celeste had an obvious crush on Asher. Charlene cleared her throat. “Anyway, the young man’s name is Dru. Did any of you see him after the ball, maybe at a different party?”
Celeste scrunched her nose. “I wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a lineup. Not to mention that by the time we were at the beach, things were a bit fuzzy.”
“A lot fuzzy,” Tommy agreed.
“Please tell me you took a cab home,” Charlene said.
“We walked,” Asher informed her. “Around four or so.”
“Whew. You can always call me.” She’d hate to feel responsible for one of her guests over-imbibing.
“We’re fine,” Celeste said. “I’m ready to do it again. Right, guys?”
Oh, to be in her twenties, Charlene thought with a smile. “Now that you’ve all had appetizers, what are your dinner plans?”
“We’re going to Finz.” Chloe gestured to Braydon. “Seven o’clock reservations.”
“We’re bundling up and walking around town,” Emma said. “We’ll find something that looks good.”
“I’m thinking clam chowder.” Judd patted his flat stomach.
“Sea Level is the best for that,” Charlene said.
“Pizza?” Joey suggested, and the three others agreed.
Within thirty minutes, her guests were out of the house and Charlene was left alone to clean up.
“Jack?” she whispered.
“I’m here.” Her ghost appeared in his full solid glory and sat at the kitchen table. “How was it?”
“Wonderful. I love my business, Jack, I really do. I can channel my curious nature into getting to know my guests.”
Jack chuckled. “Does that observation have anything to do with the detective peeling off in a rush?”
“Saw that, did you? Sam wants to talk to Dru, Serenity’s ex.”
“Sam can’t find him without you?” Jack tapped the table with ghostly fingers—no sound, just movement. “That’s a low point, even for him.”
“He was back a second time to apologize for coming on too strong the first time. I’m going to the station in the morning to fill out a statement for Officer Jimenez, about the Longmire Hotel.” The sound of Orpheus landing on the sidewalk made her stomach knot and she swallowed hard before she could continue. “And write out what I remember of the visit with Elisabeta. I know I crossed a line.”
“You didn’t do it on purpose,” Jack said in her defense. “You were helping a friend.”
“I know. Sam knows that too. I hope.”
Jack’s brow rose, not necessarily in agreement. “What else did he want?”
“Dru to turn himself in for questioning. If I just so happen to run into him somewhere.”
“Sam involves you even as he tells you not to be involved.”
“I noticed that too, believe me.” She and Jack shared a smile.
“What are you going to do about it?”
“Dru was at the pier last night, drunk, rather than home in bed after threatening Alaric. Alaric washed up on the beach this morning. Dead.” Charlene eyed the house phone, knowing what had to be done. “Call Serenity, what else?”
CHAPTER 10
Charlene and Jack decided to move to her suite for more privacy—she had her legs crossed and a blanket over her lap on her love seat with Jack next to her. She picked up her cell phone, put it on speaker, and dialed the Flint residence.
Brandy answered after two rings. “Hello, Charlene.”
“Hey, Brandy. I’m just calling to check in with you. How are you doing?” She didn’t say after seeing a dead body on the sidewalk, but she didn’t have to.
“Could be better. I will be better, once they clear up who killed Alaric. I’ve decided that Orpheus had to have been lying to us. Guilt made him jump. Your detective needs to hurry up and confirm that. Or that lady cop who hates you.”
“I’m going in tomorrow to give a statement. Did you get a summons?”
“Yeah. I’m ignoring it. I figure the less the police see of the Flint family until this blows over the healthier it will be for us. Our family has known persecution.”
Jack laughed. “Can’t blame her.”
“Three hundred years ago!” Charlene pointed out. “Anything in the last century that’s making you nervous?”
“The way our ancestors described getting tarred and feathered before being hung keeps it fresh in my mind.”
“Don’t use that excuse with Sam, whatever you do. He’s black-and-white in his thinking . . . no paranormal or supernatural allowed.”
Jack scoffed. “Narrow-minded, in my opinion.”
Charlene nodded.
“I’ve seen a lot of weird in my day, but this vampire thing is over-the-top. The witches I know in Salem are mostly good people—upstanding members of the community. Vampires, or the people that I’ve met that want to be vampires, are very dark. Can you see auras, Charlene? Halos of color around people?”
“No. But Orpheus and Elisabeta gave me bad vibes without that.” Charlene blew out a breath. “I got a tongue-lashing from Sam this afternoon, twice, thanks to you. We are definitely even as far as grudges go.”
“Yeah, fine.” Brandy sniffed. “But you also thought my mother was involved in that nefarious business with the dead witch, so basically that’s a double betrayal.”
“You put us both in danger today—two times, three, including the flight home. Now we’re even.”
Brandy burst out laughing. “Okay. Even. You were the color of our palest green Riesling grape.”
“She’s funny,” Jack said. “I forgot that about her.”
Charlene smiled at him. “Do you mind if I talk to Serenity for a second? It’s important. Has Dru been around?”
“No.” Brandy shifted the headset. “You think she’s in further danger?”
“If Orpheus turns out not to be the killer, then, maybe.” She recalled how Dru had slugged Alaric in the face.
“Dru would never hurt Serenity. He’s a great kid with an art degree who works at the Peabody Essex Museum. Wait. Why would anybody want Serenity dead? I thought her only worry was getting sent to jail if the Salem police department can’t find the right killer.”
“It depends on why Alaric was murdered. Jealous lover—either side of the equation.” Elisabeta or Dru.
“Oh.” Brandy cursed softly. “I don’t care for that line of reasoning at all. Do you need to speak with her now? She’s upstairs, mooning over her lost love.”
“Yes, please.”
“Hang on. I’ll get her on the phone.”
Jack said, “It would be very helpful to know why Alaric was killed the way he was. Staked. Dumped at sea? Our currents are very strong, but you have to time it right and he ended up back in the harbor.”
“Motivation, as Mom would point out.” Charlene could hear her mother now, smugly deducing the killer. “Finding the reason—even if it isn’t logical to anyone else but the murderer.”
“Your mom loves those shows.” Jack shifted awkwardly, very humanly, on the love seat. “I have a confession.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m hooked.” He lay back against the cushion. “I blame your mom, Brenda Woodbridge.”
“Addicted to true crime?” Charlene said, appalled.
“Who is?” Brandy asked.
Jack roared with laughter.
“My mother.” She shook her finger at her wayward ghost. “Mom claims to solve the mystery faster than the police.”
“Well, call her up, Charlene. Fly her and your adorable father from Chicago and get her on the case.” Brandy sighed. “Serenity is fast asleep, Charlene. Snuggled up with her teddy bear like she hasn’t done since she was a little girl. I can’t wake her. We need to find the killer. When do you need to
be at the station?”
“No set time.”
“Come over around ten, then. We’ll have sage tea and scones for everybody.” Brandy ended the call.
Charlene turned off her phone. “Well, Jack. I’m wired now—beyond exhaustion to jittery. I guess I’ll spend my Saturday night writing up that report for Sam. You can go ahead and watch television if you’d like.” True crime.
“I’ll keep you company,” Jack said. “That report combined with what you discover from Serenity tomorrow will be enough to keep Sam off your back.”
She could only hope.
Sunday morning, Charlene awoke to the sound of rain against her windowpane. Not a nice day for her guests, but hopefully the weather would clear soon.
She heard voices in the kitchen and knew Minnie would be preparing coffee and breakfast. Minnie arrived early on the weekends when they had guests.
Charlene turned on her shower and while it was heating went to her closet and chose her clothes for the day. Nasty weather meant warm, cozy clothes. Going to the station and Brandy’s for a visit didn’t require dressing up. She pulled out a pair of faded blue jeans, a Chicago Cubs T-shirt, and a blue cashmere cardigan.
As she showered, Charlene strategized for her busy day. The report was finished for Sam, so that was good. Writing it out like that had helped clarify the facts, as well as illuminate major questions. Had Alaric chosen Serenity specifically before leaving New Orleans?
What secret did Alaric have that Orpheus knew?
Did Orpheus kill Alaric?
Charlene toweled dry, slipped into her clothes, and then braided her thick hair on one side. She added silver skull earrings and gold glitter to enhance her hazel eyes.
Done, she went into the kitchen. At nine, it was a good chance that some of her guests were up and at the dining table.
Silva pounced on her slippered feet the moment Charlene shut her suite door behind her. Coffee, bacon, potatoes. . . “Hey, little fuzzball.” She scooped Silva up and carried her in one arm. “Morning, Minnie. I think Silva must be as hungry as I am.”
“Silva’s food is in her dish, but she hasn’t touched it.” Minnie patted her gray curls. “Sweetie seemed a little off yesterday, and again this morning.”