All the Wicked Ways

by E. M. Moore

  “Interesting,” Jackson said.

  “Did you ask them all where they were during the time you thought Victor Paladino passed away?”

  Jackson pulled up another rolling chair and put it right next to mine. Maxie sat in the middle of us, soaking up the absent-minded pats on the head we gave him. “Yes, all of them said they were there at the front desk.”

  “So they lied?”

  “Not exactly. People don’t really feel like they need to be that specific, even though little details make a big difference. Just because they didn’t think to tell me they left the desk, doesn’t mean they lied, per se. Most people leave out the time they took a five-minute break or the time they had to go to the bathroom, or any number of things. Of course, there are always those who are lying on purpose. It’s those people that you really have to watch out for because they know what they’re doing and they’re lying about it anyway. It’s separating the two that’s tricky.”

  “Any ideas then? Did any of them sound weird when you were talking to them?”

  Jackson leaned back in his chair. “No, not really. I didn’t get any weird vibe off them at all. Except for that Kevin guy. I never really liked him.”

  I shrugged, thinking he’d always seemed nice to me, but what did I know?

  “Let’s see when they all come back to the front desk. That might help.”

  I managed the controls, fast forwarding until I saw bodies return back to the front desk. The first to arrive was Katrina Danvers. She strolled down the hallway, fluffing her hair, and then retreating into her office. She didn’t look like someone who’d locked a person in a freezer and waited for them to die.

  Ten minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Danvers returned to the front desk. They walked slowly, looking around them. Even I could tell there was something suspicious about the way they acted. I looked over at Jackson whose eyes were narrowed at the screen in front of us. He tapped his fingertip on his bottom lip. Looking back, I noticed Mr. and Mrs. Danvers said something to Katrina, then pulled their jackets on and left the building. The front desk clerk had been there the whole time, never leaving his station.

  “It certainly doesn’t make it look very good for missing Mr. and Mrs. Danvers, does it?” I asked Jackson. “Too bad there’s no camera angle of the back room.”

  “It was disabled.”

  “Disabled? You’re kidding?”

  “Nope. Mr. Danvers said it’s been out since about the time Rich got arrested, and they didn’t know of anyone who could come fix it.”

  Wow. This really didn’t look good. “You know, there’s a rumor they’re having troubles after that TV show aired. Apparently, the ghost hunters couldn’t prove there were any ghosts at the Danvers Hotel.”

  “I heard that, too,” Jackson said. “Seems stupid for them to feel the effects of some ridiculous show that’s not real anyway.”

  I sealed my lips shut, not wanting to tell him ghosts were in fact real. I knew it as an undisputed fact.

  “It doesn’t answer the question about why Mr. and Mrs. Danvers would do it though. So what, they had money troubles? How would threatening and then killing Victor Paladino solve their money problems?”

  A thought occurred to me right away, but I pushed it aside. It was something so ridiculous, so Salem, that I had to kick the thought right out of my head. Jackson must’ve seen the way I was struggling with myself because he automatically asked me what I was thinking. I tried to shake my head, but he pressed on. “What is it?”

  “Okay, this is stupid. But, I just thought that maybe Mr. and Mrs. Danvers may have killed someone in the hotel to garner attention. They don’t have any proven ghosts, but now, all of a sudden, they find a dead body in the hotel. That’s bound to bring more people back.”

  “Hmm. I see where you’re going with this. So, you think it’s possible that Mr. and Mrs. Danvers killed someone just for hype, the TV aspect of it?”

  “Well, it’s not something you or I would ever do, but think about it. If your whole livelihood depends on the success of your business, and some TV show is telling every visitor in Salem that you do not have a haunted hotel, what would you do? I even heard Kevin make mention of it to Katrina the night of the auction. He was mumbling and complaining about having to rearrange the flowers on the tables and said something to Katrina like, ‘If your parents had enough money to hire someone else.’ So, it’s not just a rumor mill talking. They must be having money problems.”

  Jackson scratched the scruff on the side of his face. “Well, that’s easy enough to find out. I can look into the money problems. It doesn’t solve the mystery of the email though. I’m having our IT guys take a look at it to see if they can find out who sent it.” He looked at me, a small smile on his face. “I guess this wasn’t a waste of time after all. We actually did figure something out. You know, if you weren’t such a great librarian, I’d say you’d make a pretty good detective.”

  “Detective…librarian, they’re basically the same thing. We’re both in the pursuit of answers.”

  Jackson just laughed and shook his head at me. “Yes, except for one usually leads to dangerous territory. What’s the worst thing that could happen to a librarian? A paper cut?”

  “Ha. Ha. Well, I can say the worst thing that ever happened to me as a librarian was finding a dead body.”

  Jackson couldn’t come back with a snappy remark on that one.

  Maxie’s ears perked up. He stared into the corner of the room and started to bark. A tingle of awareness shot down my spine and sure enough, Mrs. Paladino came into full view.

  Jackson rubbed Maxie’s ears who wasn’t having any of it. “What’s the matter, bud? There’s nothing there.” He looked up at me to say something, but stopped when he saw the look on my face. “What is it?”

  I tried to shake my head, but Jackson really wasn’t having any of it either. So, I kept with my story. “Nothing.”

  Mrs. Paladino stood in the corner of the room, shaking her head. She had an evil smile on her face so I gave her a dirty look.

  “Maddie, you have to tell me what’s going on. I’m starting to think you’re going crazy. It might be just me, but I think you’re fighting with the corner over there. What is it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me.”

  I should have left it alone, but Jackson grabbed my arm, his eyes pleading with mine. “Fine,” I said, resigning myself to the fact that I’d have to tell him what was going on with Mrs. Paladino since she didn’t see anything wrong with blipping in whenever she wanted. I pointed to the corner of the room. “Mrs. Paladino is standing right over there.”

  With that, Maxie gave a fierce bark and growled.

  My lips turned up. Ha. My dog didn’t like her either.

  Chapter 9

  Jackson blinked into the corner of the room. His eyes immediately widening, staring at presumably nothing. “I don’t see anything.”

  Well, wasn’t that the point? I could see ghosts and he couldn’t. “I know. She’s a spirit.”

  He glanced back and forth between me and the corner of the room. Mrs. Paladino chuckled and I sent her another scathing glare. He immediately turned back to the corner. “Is she doing something? Is she saying something about me?”

  “I think she’s laughing at the look on your face.”

  “You think I’m laughing?” Mrs. Paladino asked. “You know I’m laughing.”

  I shrugged. Since Jackson wasn’t taking this whole thing very well, I wasn’t going to tell him that. “You think I’m weird now, huh?”

  “What?” Jackson switched back to me and tried to smile. It came out as more of a grimace though. “No. Absolutely not. You’re not weird, but it’s weird to see ghosts.”

  “Ha. Ha. Funny.”

  “Well, I mean, obviously, it is weird. That doesn’t mean anything. It is what it is.” He still stared into the corner, not wanting to take his eyes off the spot I told him she was standing. “You’ve seen her since the day we found Mr. Pala
dino’s body, haven’t you? Is that why she’s here?”

  I nodded. “She came to me and told me where the body was. That’s why I called you that day.”

  Jackson, frowning toward the area he thought Mrs. Paladino was, asked, “Does she know who did it?”

  Mrs. Paladino slapped her forehead and shook her head. “How many times do I have to say it? It was that gold digger, Hannah.”

  “Well, he can’t hear you,” I said, sticking up for Jackson because he couldn’t hear a word she was saying whether she was trying to tell him who killed her husband or if she was picking on him.

  “Isn’t that why I can talk to you? So you can tell him what I’m saying?”

  Jackson looked back and forth between me and the invisible person. “What’s she saying? I don’t get it. I only hear a one-sided conversation.”

  “She thinks it’s Hannah.”

  Jackson’s face screwed up. “But—”

  “Alibi, we know,” myself and Mrs. Paladino said at the same time. “Between us, I think Mrs. Paladino is just mad her husband found someone much younger than him after she passed.”

  In Un-Paladino-like fashion, she stuck her tongue out at me.

  “Really?” I asked in exasperation.

  Jackson rubbed his temples. “Just tell me the side of the story I need to know, okay? You talking to someone else who isn’t there is giving me a headache.”

  “Welcome to the club,” I muttered. Wasn’t as if I asked for this to happen. And if you ask me, Mrs. Paladino was a very ungrateful ghost for me trying to help her as much as I was.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said. “I know this has to be harder on you.” He ran his hands through his hair and leaned back in his chair, his arms over his chest. “Well, we’ve seen all we can see on the video for now. I have to make a few phone calls and do some more interviews.” He studied me from the corner of his eye as I was busy shutting down the computers and pretending I didn’t notice he was looking at me. Finally, he said, “Does she,” he said, jerking his head to the corner of the room, “ever leave?”

  “Not often enough.”

  Mrs. Paladino crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I have an idea. I think we need to just forget about all this for one evening. I seem to remember that a certain library director owes me an evening out.” He stared at the corner even though Mrs. Paladino had moved. “Sorry, Mrs. Paladino, but you’re not invited. This is going to be a stress-free evening.”

  Mrs. Paladino narrowed her gaze at him, managing to look even a little menacing with her pale features. “And this is what is wrong with the world today,” she commented. “Everyone wants to put off what’s happening for some other time. So what? You can see ghosts. So what? He’s stressed because he can’t figure out who killed Victor even though I’m leading him to the murderer on a silver platter. Sure, just take some time off while my poor Victor lays in the morgue freezer.”

  Anger turned into sadness, and even from where I sat I could see her eyes were watery. Again with the crying. How was it ghosts could cry?

  She did have a point though. If I could turn this evening into a way to look into what we found on the video, I could be helping Jackson and Mrs. Paladino at the same time. If I talked Jackson into going to the restaurant inside the Danvers for dinner, then, I could sneak out sometime during the dinner and… I didn’t know what. Accost Mr. and Mrs. Danvers and ask them what they were doing when they weren’t at the front desk the other evening when Victor died? Because, the more and more I thought about it, they had an actual motive to his killing. A body found in the Danvers, whether he was an actual ghost yet or not, could mean only one thing. Hello, dollar bill signs.

  Jackson allowed a small smile to flit across his face. In an innocent voice as possible, I said, “Sure, dinner sounds really good. You know where I haven’t been in a while?” I hesitated a little. There were plenty of restaurants to go in the city and plenty of places that didn’t involve somewhere a murder had just taken place. I had to choose my words wisely. “Being in the Danvers the other day reminded me how much I really used to like that place. Can we go there?”

  “You want to go to the Danvers?” He deadpanned. “Where a dead body was found? Where a ghost tried to lead you?”

  Yes,” I said cheerfully. “I always liked their scallops.”

  Jackson shrugged. “Fine. We’ll have to take Maxie home. Whatever you want though. But I mean it, no talk about the murders. Consequently, Mrs. Paladino needs to spend the evening away from us. Got that, Mrs. Paladino?”

  Jackson’s voice rose as if he was speaking to a person who was hard of hearing. Mrs. Paladino giggled from the other side of the room where he was staring. “Does he understand I’m not over there anymore? Or the fact that I can hear just fine even though I’m coming from the otherside?” She sang the last part for affect.

  I ignored her. “She understands perfectly. She would love to leave us alone for an evening. In fact, she’s already gone.”

  I sent her a look and sure enough, she complied.

  As soon as she left, the air lifted a little. There wasn’t as much tension or stress. I shut down the computer for Jackson and picked up Max’s leash again to lead him outside. Jackson followed me home in his car and waited while I put Maxie in the apartment and came back down to ride to the Danvers with him. He must’ve asked three times on the way there if I was sure the hotel was where I wanted to go. I answered yes every time. The sooner we could get this over with the better.

  I ordered and made small talk as we waited for our food to arrive. He asked me again if Mrs. Paladino had stayed true to her word and left us alone. While she was gone, he took the opportunity to ask me how I felt about having her there. I told him it wasn’t exactly pleasant, not by a long shot. She still disliked me and took every chance she got to tell me how worthless I was.

  Concern etched his features, but I just laughed it off. Then, I reminded him that the sooner we found out about her husband, the sooner she would leave me alone. This brought renewed interest into the case for Jackson. “I didn’t think about it like that,” he said.

  “Well, why else would she be here? She showed up at the exact same time her husband died and has been bugging me about it ever since. Is there any chance it could be Hannah?” I asked.

  “Sure. Along with a bunch of other people,” Jackson answered. “We’re not ruling anyone out. She seemed a little too mad about us not putting a final cause of death on his death certificate. Her interest seems purely money motivated.”

  It was especially busy that evening at the Danvers. It was taking a long time for the food to come out so I excused myself from the table, using the restroom as an excuse even though I was really about to go turn into Nancy Drew and see if I could find Mr. and Mrs. Danvers somewhere in the huge building.

  I still didn’t know exactly what I was going to do. Follow them? Strike up a conversation? I figured I’d just go with it if I did happen to find them.

  Without taking another look back, I left the restaurant area and walked right into the hotel. As luck would have it, Mr. and Mrs. Danvers were just leaving the front desk. They held hands, and were headed toward the back staircase. I followed after them, ducking behind corners and into hallways when I thought they might look back. Down the hall, I heard the door that led to the stairs groan closed. I waited ten seconds, then followed after them.

  Sure enough, as soon as I got into the staircase, the door on the next floor opened. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could and then stuck my head out to see which way Mr. and Mrs. Danvers went. I froze once I got a good look at them. Mrs. Danvers was giggling, and Mr. Danvers held onto his wife, shushing her with his finger over his lips. They were acting just crazy enough to be murderers, I thought.

  Finally, Mr. and Mrs. Danvers paused outside one of the rooms. He grabbed one of the electronic key cards from his pocket and put it in the lock. Then, pulling her inside, I watched as the door shut behind them. So odd. I stro
lled past the door making sure to check the number. 222. If they found a body in room 222 tomorrow, I’d know for sure what was going on.

  Looking at my watch, I realized I’d been doing Nancy Drew work for five minutes. I was sure the food had been brought to the table by now. Jackson was probably not-so-patiently waiting for me.

  I ran down the hallway, back down the staircase, and then out the doors as nonchalant as I entered the restaurant. Jackson sat there, his plate steaming in front of him. He saw me and gave a half-hearted smile. I flashed him a large grin of my own. “Did the food just get here?”

  He pressed his lips together. “Just about.”

  Which probably meant it came about the time I left the table. I acted as innocent enough as I could as I wondered why Mr. and Mrs. Danvers were always sneaking around their own hotel. Jackson picked up the conversation again, forcing it all out of my head. I kept waiting to hear sirens or Jackson’s cell to go off, or even the fire alarm to sound. Something just wasn’t right at the Danvers Hotel—or with Mr. and Mrs. Danvers.

  Chapter 10

  The next day at work, I couldn’t think of anything but library business. The YMCA summer camps came in for storytime, and since my children’s librarian called into work, guess who had to fill in for her? Don’t get me wrong, I liked reading to the kids, but it zapped energy like nothing else. By the time I’d finished, I was rubbing my temples like Jackson always did and thinking about how I needed to take a pain reliever.

  Mrs. Ward set a mug of tea down in front of me. “You look exhausted.”

  “Oh my goodness. Thank you.”

  She smiled and sat down next to me. “That was a big job, I know. All the kids looked like they had such a great time though.”

  Yes, that’s what made it all worth it. To see the kids’ smiling faces as they left the library always reminded me of why I had the job I did. It was about helping the community and especially encouraging young kids to read and grow.