“Wait…what? A bonus? Move souls? A family business? How can being a Grim Reaper be a family business?”
Grimacing, Missy took a gulp of her own coffee. “Technically, I’m a Reaper. The actual Grim Reaper can’t be everywhere in the world. He’s not Santa Claus, you know. So he or she has associates like me. I take care of this county and the three others surrounding it.”
It made perfect sense, except that none of this made any sense. She was a reaper but she wasn’t Grim. And wait…was Santa Claus real, too?
“And just where is the Grim Reaper located? New York City? London? Rome?”
“Sarasota, Florida,” Missy said calmly. “You’ve met him. He’s my Uncle Ralph. You know, the one that likes to play got your nose with the babies. He’s just one in a long line from my family over the centuries.”
Missy’s Uncle Ralph was a loud, overweight man with a distinguished hairline who had owned a string of sandwich shops on the East Coast for years before he retired. Whenever he’d come to visit he’d bring me one of those huge rainbow lollipops that they only sold in candy stores.
I had accepted candy from the Grim Reaper. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that except that I wasn’t going to do it again.
“Sarasota,” I repeated slowly, trying to picture Uncle Ralph in dark robes carrying anything but that lollipop or the Bud Light he preferred as a beverage. “This is hard to wrap my mind around. So what exactly do you do? And better yet, what did you do for Jerome?”
“I shepherd souls to their final destination. That’s what I did for Jerome, although I have to say he didn’t go easily. He argued the entire time. I had to convince him he was really dead. That’s common, actually. People don’t like to hear that they’re dead and I’m usually the one breaking that news.”
That sounded like Jerome. I was beginning to believe that my best friend was the Grim Reaper.
It had been one long day and it wasn’t over yet.
“Can you be more specific about this final destination? And how you get your bonus?”
Rubbing her chin, Missy didn’t answer for a long moment. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I’m supposed to inform people of their death and then lead their soul to their final destination.”
“Which is?” I pressed. “You take them to the pearly gates?”
Chuckling, she smiled at my question. “I take them to the light. I don’t know which way they’re going to go until their soul actually moves on.”
“I would imagine those that know they’re going…downstairs…aren’t too anxious to go.”
Her smile fell and her lips tightened. “Some souls don’t want to move on either because they don’t believe they’re dead or they just don’t want to go. They’re pig-headed and stubborn.”
Apparently, this was a sore subject for my friend.
“You can’t make them go?”
She shook her head. “I can try and convince them but ultimately the decision is up to them.”
“And if they decide not to?”
“Then they stay here in this realm in a sort of purgatory state. A ghost, if you will.”
My breath caught and my heart skipped a beat. “So there really are ghosts? They’re real.”
I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.
“Of course, they’re real. This town has tons of ghosts. I should know because every soul that I can’t convince to move on is a black mark on my annual review. I get dinged on my bonus, too. We have souls still in this town from when my great-great-great-grandfather was the Reaper. Maybe even before.”
“I’ve never seen a ghost, though. How is this possible?”
“Ghosts don’t like to be seen, I guess. I usually only see them when I’m in my robes. The rest of the time I’m as human as you are.”
“Can you take me on your next soul collection? I want to see a ghost.”
Missy was already shaking her no before I finished my query. “That’s not how this works. I only got to go along when my mom couldn’t get a babysitter. Besides, do you really want to see dead people? It’s usually not a pretty sight. Jerome Bergstrom sure wasn’t.”
About Jerome… If Missy was there…?
“So you saw him die? You saw who killed him? Why didn’t you just tell Garrett?”
“I get a text after they die so by the time I get there any self-respecting killer would be long gone. I didn’t see anyone, but even if I did, how could I possibly explain that to the sheriff?”
Jackson Garrett wasn’t the type to believe in ghosts or Grim Reapers. He’d been more than clear about that when his son had wanted to see a spirit.
Hah! Take that, Sheriff. I was right. There are ghosts in Ravenmist. And a Reaper. She was my best friend. Instead of disbelief I actually felt a sort of pride. Missy had an important job and it sounded like she was pretty good at it.
And here I was…really okay with the whole story and not fainting or screaming. Delirium was awesome.
“I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this secret from me since we were kids.”
“I didn’t want to. I really wanted to tell you when you came back to town and were voted the head of the paranormal society. That meant you were open to this.”
I was open to it, although I wasn’t entirely convinced I wouldn’t wake up soon and the entire day would have been a bad dream. Nothing that had happened would have seemed likely the day before, especially my friend being the Grim Reaper. That was truly out of left field.
Another thought occurred to me. “We still have the problem of you being a suspect. I don’t suppose Reapers have any cool Jedi mind tricks? Can you make the sheriff think you’re innocent?”
Giggling, Missy shook her head. “Sorry, we don’t have any party tricks like that. We can erase a few seconds of a person’s memory so that if they accidentally see us they forget.”
“You should have done that to the paper boy.”
“I would have but I didn’t know. It’s too late now.”
“So what do we do?”
“It will all work out. They don’t have any proof because I didn’t do anything wrong. It will all blow over and the sheriff will find the real killer.”
Missy might trust that justice would win out but I wasn’t so sure.
Lorna regretted marrying him, Angela kissed him, and what about that man that Jerome was arguing with in the cafe? And the most important question…
“So tell me about Santa Claus. Is he real, too?”
Chapter Ten
I couldn’t stay at Missy’s bookstore forever, although it was far more peaceful there than the inn. I had to leave eventually and I half-heartedly walked back to my home hoping that the citizens of Ravenmist would have seen fit to go back to their own places of residence.
When I opened the front doors I was thrilled to see that most of them had done just that. Not feeding their empty stomachs appeared to have worked wonders. There were only a few stragglers now and they were mostly inhabiting the bar area that had opened only an hour before. To my surprise Lorna was sitting at a table with an unfamiliar man. They appeared to be deep in conversation, barely noticing anyone else.
Curious, I approached the bartender who was pouring tequila shots and placing them on a tray along with salt and limes. I didn’t know exactly which patrons had ordered all of these shots but I had a decent idea that it was the rowdy locals tucked into the large corner table across the room. Hopefully, none of them had driven to the inn.
“Hey Neil, how’s it going tonight?”
Neil was a big, burly man but incredibly soft-spoken. He could be quiet and mousy until a patron got out of line. Then heaven help them because Neil could go from zero to hero in about five seconds flat.
He handed the tray off to the waitress before answering me. Yep, it was headed to the loud table.
“Pretty good. I think most of these people are still hanging around hoping to see something exciting.”
They were living in the wrong town.
“All they
’re going to see is their lunch coming up backward at the rate they’re going. Don’t hesitate to cut them off and if they give you any guff about it call me.” He wouldn’t need to. Neil could easily handle anyone. Casting a glance toward Lorna and her friend, I could see the man’s face more clearly now. He definitely wasn’t anyone that I knew or was staying here at the inn. “How long has Mrs. Bergstrom been here?”
If Neil thought it strange for me to ask, he didn’t say anything. “About half an hour. They’re on their second round. He’s drinking an import on draft and she’s having white wine.”
At least they weren’t doing shots, too. My stomach gurgled, letting me know I hadn’t eaten since lunch. I’d grab a snack and keep an eye on these two from the kitchen.
“If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen grabbing a bite.”
Lorna waved to me as I turned from the bar. “Tedi! Tedi, I need to speak with you.”
Stopping at their table, I gave her my best professional smile. “Mrs. Bergstrom, how can I help you?”
“First, just call me Lorna. After all we’ve been through here I think you can call me by my first name.”
Okay, we were going to be chummy. Interesting.
I took a side glance at her companion but he hadn’t spoken yet. He was handsome though, blond and tan. Sort of a California surfer look in a double breasted blue suit. An expensive one, if I wasn’t mistaken. I’d known lots of men like him when I’d lived in the city. My ex had been one of them.
“Thank you, Lorna. How can I help you?”
“I haven’t introduced you to my attorney, Adam Taylor. Adam, this is Tedi Hamilton. She owns this inn.” I shook his hand while his gaze traveled from toes to my nose. Was he sizing me up? I could do that, too.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Taylor.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Hamilton. Please call me Adam, and may I call you Tedi? That’s such an unusual name.”
“It’s short for Theodosia,” I replied, extricating my hand from his. He’d held it a little too long. “Welcome to Ravenmist.”
“Adam is a…family friend…and he’s here to support me. I don’t suppose you have a room you can put him in? The sheriff won’t let us leave but he didn’t say I couldn’t bring people here.”
I was completely booked up for the festival but I had a gut feeling that not everyone had heeded Garrett’s warning and stayed put. Worst case scenario I could probably get him a room a few towns over.
“Let me check. Will you be here in the bar for a few minutes?”
They both said they would so I headed straight for the front desk. The inn might be old but I had installed some nifty computer software to help manage the guest rooms and the books. A few keystrokes told me that not everyone had done exactly what Garrett had told them to do.
He was going to be furious but what had he truly expected? That everyone was just going to sit around and wait?
“I’ve been looking for you all day. Where have you been?”
Sighing heavily, I looked up from the screen to see Sheriff Garrett leaning over the front desk and wearing a scowl. As usual.
“It’s so nice to see you too, Sheriff,” I said sarcastically. “Did you miss me? How sweet.”
“I need to talk to you.”
What a charmer. He was a real people person.
“So talk.”
He gestured toward the bar area. “Who is that man with Lorna Bergstrom? I’ve never seen him before.”
“That’s because he’s not from here. Adam Taylor, her attorney. He’s looking for a hotel room so he’ll be staying for awhile.”
The smile that bloomed on Jackson Garrett’s face was one of pure smug satisfaction.
“She’s lawyered up. That means she’s scared.”
“You think she did it then?”
Hopefully, that meant he was done suspecting Missy.
Leaning a hip against the counter, he stole one of the mints from the candy bowl. “The spouse is always a suspect until they’re cleared. She hasn’t been cleared as far as I’m concerned. No one has.”
“Not one person?” I asked, exasperated with this investigation. “What have you been doing all day?”
“Just watching soap operas and eating bonbons. Seriously, a murder investigation takes time. I suppose you think you could do better?”
“I couldn’t do worse,” I grumbled. “You can’t keep a bunch of people hostage in town while you wander around hoping the murderer jumps out of a bush and confesses. Do you even have a plan?”
I’d hit a nerve because Garrett’s face had turned an unbecoming shade of red. He wasn’t so handsome now. As for chemistry? Not so much.
“Of course, I have a plan, woman. Just because you don’t know enough about police work to see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.”
Thank goodness, then.
“Then you’d better get to it and fast, Sheriff, because tomorrow is Sunday and most of these people will be up before dawn and on the road back to wherever they came from. Some have already flown your chicken coop.”
That news did not go over well. He slapped his hand on the counter and leaned far across it so he and I were almost nose to nose.
“What do you mean?”
Clearing my throat, I took a step back to install some personal space between us. He’d been far too close. “I mean that I now have empty rooms. You said yourself that you couldn’t make people stay.”
“You didn’t stop them?”
There was frustration in his tone but I wasn’t going to let him foist this off on me.
“Was it my responsibility to do so? You’ve had deputies milling about this place all day sucking up free food and beverages from my kitchen. Don’t you think one of them noticed a few people walking out with luggage and getting into their car? If they didn’t stop them I’m not sure why you think I should.”
“Because they couldn’t stop them,” he muttered under his breath. “I am not happy.”
“That makes two of us, Sheriff. But I do have some good news if you want to hear it.”
Scraping his fingers through his hair, he gave a sad sigh. He probably was exhausted and tired. Hungry, too. I should probably offer to feed him.
If he promised to leave Missy alone, I’d fix him a five-course meal personally.
“I would love to hear something good right now.”
“None of the people that checked out were strong suspects. The Millers didn’t even know the Bergstroms and were in bed early because of Mrs. Miller’s allergies. The Shuberts are about eighty if they’re a day, so I doubt they could hold down a grown man and drown him. And last but not least are the Sinclairs. They only live one town over, so if you want to talk to them it’s only a fifteen-minute drive, depending on traffic. They come here every year and are completely delightful. I don’t think they’re your killers.”
“How do you know who are suspects?” he growled but the red in his cheeks had subsided. He was calmer than he’d been only moments before.
“I would imagine the family, friends, and business associates. Missy said that Jerome had an argument with another man at the Grateful Raven yesterday. Have you found him yet?”
“No.”
“He might be staying in a hotel in another town. Have you checked?”
“Tedi, I’m not discussing my investigation with you.”
“I’m just trying to help.”
“Then stop. I don’t need any help.”
“Everyone could use help, Sheriff.”
“For the love of God, I don’t need help. This isn’t my first murder.”
“It’s the first murder for many in this town, so excuse us if we’re a little shaken. I found him and that’s a sight I’ll see in my nightmares.”
Garrett’s expression actually softened and he almost looked nice. “I wish you hadn’t seen that.”
“You and me both. Now I’m headed into the kitchen to get some food. When was the last time you ate?”
&n
bsp; The air seemed to leak out of him and he slumped against the counter. “I had half a sandwich in the car about one o’clock.”
That was worse than I’d thought. He might not be my favorite person but I couldn’t let him starve. He and his son were basically bachelors and who knows if they even had any food in that house.
“You’d better come into the kitchen and fix yourself a plate then. You can take a to go box to Tyler, too.”
Garrett opened his mouth to say something – maybe to tell me where I could put my hot meal – but then seemed to think better of it. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
He’d learn eventually. We’d put the small town into him whether he liked it or not.
Chapter Eleven
The sheriff was at my front door first thing in the morning vetting those that were checking out to make sure that he had their names, phone number, and addresses. Technically, I had all of that information but I’d told him over dinner that I wasn’t all that comfortable giving it to him. It felt like a breach of trust between me and my guests. To my surprise, he wholeheartedly agreed and said that he’d deal with it. I hadn’t really known what that meant until he was standing in my lobby at o-dark-early in the morning before I’d even had a cup of coffee.
“There’s that guy again. I need to meet him.”
Garrett was eyeing Adam Taylor, who was currently sitting with Lorna, Roger, and Cherie eating breakfast.
“Why? He wasn’t even here when the murder occurred. You should be talking to Angela or Lorna. Even Roger and Cherie. They might have had motive, too. And that guy at Daisy’s.”
Another sigh. He was doing that quite a bit around me. Apparently, I frustrated the heck out of him.
“He’s friends with the Bergstroms and the Mullaneys, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Then he might know something that they aren’t talking about. He might let it slip.”
Eat, Drink, and Be Scary (A Ravenmist Whodunit Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 6