by K. J. Emrick
Miranda shook her head and smiled at Sapphire while she watched all of the people in the room very closely. They seemed like a very confusing bunch of people, all of whom wanted to speak at the same time or just shout at one another. And who on Earth was Caleb Owen, the victim? Even if he was in the middle of everything, where did he fit into all of this?
“Maybe,” Jack said to her and Sapphire and Jean-Paul, “you guys would be better off waiting outside? I need to go back down the road to meet the officers coming from Moonlight Bay. I want to make sure no one disturbs the body, too.”
“So why,” Miranda asked him, “does that mean we have to wait outside?”
He pulled a face, but he knew that she had seen through his thinly veiled attempt to get them away from the Blue Jay. “Because I’m worried, all right? I don’t know, Miranda, something about these people is bothering me. I can’t quite place it.”
“They’re all bizarro, is what,” Kyle declared. “We just stepped through the looking glass.”
Miranda rolled her eyes at him.
“I’m serious!” Kyle went on. “They’re all whack-a-doo. Not only weird in their own right, Miranda, but they make a weird little group. I wouldn’t say that it’s friendship that’s holding this lot together, would you? More like mutual dislike.”
Once again, Miranda agreed, but she couldn’t answer him. She bit her lip and thought about what he’d just said. He was right. Their own little group might be eclectic, with the child of French immigrants and a self-styled hippie and a police officer and a mystery novelist, not to mention a ghost and a lovable mutt. For as odd as they might be, however, this group here at the Blue Jay defied definition.
There was something here they were missing. Something to do with the murder of Caleb Owen.
“Anyway,” Jack continued, explaining his reasons to Miranda for them to stay. “You guys aren’t police officers, and I don’t want to put you in the middle of a murder investigation.”
“Ha,” Jean-Paul quipped. “Since when has that stopped you before, my friend?”
“Well, you’ve got me there,” he had to admit.
“Seriously, Jack,” Miranda assured him, “we’ll be fine. We’ll stay here, and we’ll stay together. Promise.”
Jean-Paul seemed less certain. “I think that, perhaps, Jack makes a good point. I would feel better if Sapphire was somewhere else. Out in the van, at least.”
To probably the surprise of everyone there, Sapphire stood up tall and straight and held her chin up. “No. I’ll stay. I want to stay. This place is no less dark in my sight but still… there is something drawing me here as well. I can’t just let everyone down.”
Jean-Paul put his hand out to take hers. “You were so upset before, Sapphire. You must get away from this place. I am worried for you.”
“I’ll be just fine, Jean-Paul. I’ve decided to be strong. I will do what I need to in order to help out. As we all must in the face of what the universe brings us.”
“Are you sure?” Jean-Paul asked her with a note of concern.
“I am absolutely sure.”
Miranda thought it was cute the way Jean-Paul was fretting over Sapphire, showing a love for her that he was too afraid to express openly. At the same time, she remembered how Jean-Paul had been with the last woman he loved. The woman he thought he might marry some day in the future, until she was murdered in the movie theater he owned and operated in Moonlight Bay. He had been completely, entirely devoted to her even though they had only been together a short time. When she had died it had nearly broken Jean-Paul in two.
As much as she cheered to think her two best friends might be moving toward a loving relationship, at the same time she was worrying about what might come of it.
“All right,” Jack finally said, and hugged Miranda quickly. “Now that we’ve got that all decided, I’m going to go back down the road and wait for the patrols. Alfie, think you could come with me?”
He raised his voice to get the Bed and Breakfast owner’s attention. The man’s eyes got wider as he pointed to himself, obviously unsure that he’d heard correctly. “Me? I’m sorry, Detective, but why would I go with you to meet the police and see a dead body?”
Interesting, Miranda thought. There was a lot of guilt in that voice for such a simple request.
“Because,” Jack explained, “I need someone to make a formal identification of Caleb. I know that you’re all sure it’s him, but we need someone to look at him and say for certain. I’d bring Ginger since she was the victim’s, er, girlfriend. Only, from what I just heard she’s too upset. So I was hoping you would do it instead.”
“Oh. Oh, of course.” Alfie seemed immensely relieved to find out the reason Jack wanted him along was just to make an identification. “In that case, of course I’ll come with you. Anything to help, after all. That’s me. I just want to help.”
Miranda tried to read his expression. He was definitely worried about something. Perhaps, she thought, it was because he was involved in Caleb Owen’s death. She didn’t know a thing about these people, or how they all connected. There could be motives lying out in plain sight, and she wouldn’t recognize them for what they were until she had more information.
Jack gently rubbed a finger along her jaw. “Hey. I won’t be too long. Once the help from my station shows up I’ll turn everything over to them and come back. Are you going to be alright here in the meantime?”
“Of course, I’ll be alright,” she said sweetly. “Come on, Jack, you know me.”
“That’s right, I do know you. That’s what worries me. I know that look on your face and by the time I come back I expect I’ll find you hip deep in it. Whatever ‘it’ is,” he added with a lopsided and vaguely sarcastic smile.
“Oh, undoubtedly.” Ah, they knew each other so well. She lowered her voice so Alfie and the others wouldn’t hear. “You be careful out there, too. I saw one of the cars outside with mud on the tires. I think it was the car that went off the shoulder near the lake where Caleb’s body was dumped. I can’t imagine where anybody could find mud anywhere else around here.”
That made his eyebrows scrunch lower. “I see. Well, since we both know you’re going to snoop around anyway, why don’t you try to find out whose car that is. Just, you know. Be careful.”
“I said it first,” she said, adding a wink.
“Jean-Paul,” Jack said, returning his voice to its normal resonant tone. “Keep an eye on these two, okay?”
At his feet, Butter whuffed and pawed carefully at his leg.
“Ha. And Butter, too.”
“What am I?” Kyle asked. “Chopped liver?”
Miranda playfully blew a kiss in Kyle’s direction, and it reminded her of what she had seen Ben Clark do earlier. She would have to find some time to talk to Ben about that, although it would take a backseat to the other, more obvious mystery of Caleb Owen’s death.
As Jack and Alfie made their way out the front door, Skye Rogers shifted on her feet.
“I wonder if Ginger is okay,” she said out of the blue.
“You do?” Miranda said, unable to hide her surprise.
“Yes, of course I do,” Skye huffed. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way, I guess. It’s just what you said before made it sound like you didn’t care for Ginger Peck. At all. You know, all that stuff about her using Caleb as a sugar daddy.”
Skye pursed her lips, adding a shrug on top of it. “You know what, I suppose that was a bit on the nasty side, just as Alfie said. I should learn to not let my temper get the better of me.” She twirled a finger into her blonde hair and gave Miranda a dismissive glance. “You don’t know any of us, so I wouldn’t be too quick to judge until you’ve walked a minute in our shoes.”
“Um,” Miranda tried to keep from saying it, but couldn’t. “It’s ‘mile.’ Walk a mile in someone’s shoes.”
That seemed to confuse Skye even more. “Why would I want to walk that far in someone else�
��s stinky shoes?”
Miranda had trouble believing that Skye didn’t know that very common saying. Was she just the stereotypical blonde, cute and overly friendly but not very bright? Miranda hated to use stereotypes because more often than not she found there was absolutely no truth to them. She might just be staring at a living one right now, however.
She had to put that aside for the moment, because either way she was being presented with the perfect opportunity to dive into this mystery. She didn’t want to pass it up.
“Look,” she said to Skye, “if it would make you feel any better, I’ll go with you and we can both check on Ginger.” Next to her, Kyle nodded his approval.
“Okay, sure. Thanks,” Skye said, beaming with a smile. The woman’s emotional needle was all over the place, and it was starting to make Miranda dizzy.
Then again, everything about the Blue Jay Bed and Breakfast was having that effect on her. Why should Skye Rogers be any different?
Chapter 6
“You’d better lead the way, Skye.” Miranda didn’t want to let any of these people at her back before she knew more about them. Plus, she actually didn’t know where she was going. “Jean-Paul, you’re going to stay here with Sapphire and Butter?”
“But of course,” Jean-Paul answered.
“What about Kyle?” Sapphire asked, immediately clamping her hands over her mouth, which made her slip of the tongue all that much worse.
“Kyle?” Skye asked, her gaze immediately going all around the room. “Who’s Kyle? I thought there were only four people in your party? And a dog, of course.”
The way she said that made it seem like she didn’t much care for dogs, and that certainly didn’t endear her to Miranda.
“Um, yes,” Miranda said, “there’s just us. Just us four. That’s all.” She was racking her brain to come up with a suitable excuse for who Kyle might be. It didn’t help when she had to watch Kyle float right up to a spot on the floor in front of Skye, and bow.
“I, my dear lady, am Kyle.” Miranda tried desperately to catch his eye to tell him—silently—to knock it off, but he wouldn’t look her way at all. She knew full well he was doing it on purpose. “I am but a humble spirit guide,” he continued.
“Kyle isn’t here,” Miranda said, maybe a bit too loudly, considering Skye was supposed to be the only one she was talking to. “He’s our friend from back home. Yes. That’s him. That’s our Kyle.”
“I’m right heeeeeere! I’m a ghoooost,” Kyle warbled in front of Skye, completely incorrigible. “I am here to heeeelp.”
“We, um,” Miranda said to the very confused Skye Rogers, “we need to call him too, and tell him to stay where he is and calm down and wait for us.”
She enunciated every word and finally Kyle caught on. With a semi-apologetic smile and a shrug, he backed off to a corner and whistled a little tune instead. It was just as annoying to have a ghost whistle as it had been to have him act like a teenager trying to impress the hot cheerleader. She’s not even your type, Miranda wanted to growl at him. She isn’t Jack’s type either!
Um, she said to herself, that last part was just reflex. Yes. Just reflex.
“Oh, I see,” Skye was saying, although it was obvious that she didn’t. “Do you want to use the phone and call, um, Kyle now?”
“No,” Miranda and Sapphire and Jean-Paul all said at the same time. Miranda cleared her throat and spoke for the group again. “No, thank you. He’ll be fine for now, I’m sure.”
This was punctuated with a look across the room at her grinning, ghostly friend. Kyle wiggled his fingers at her in response.
Miranda ruffled Butter’s fur around his collar before turning to follow Skye. “You be a good dog, okay? If you find the killer first,” she added in a whisper, “bite him.”
“Whuff,” he answered, still looking uncertain about being in this place, but she took that as approval of her idea.
“Ginger’s room is just down here,” Skye said, vaguely pointing through the living room area to where a hallway started. “I’m warning you now, she’s kind of a mess. She was very shaken up about Caleb, like I said.”
The two of them started off down the hallway, Kyle floating behind in tow. Silence dragged on between them for a moment before Miranda decided to start fishing for information.
“So, is Ginger a guest here?” Miranda tried to pretend like the answer didn’t matter even though she really needed to get a handle on who was who and what they were all doing there. “You all are guests, right?”
“Yes, we are. Ginger practically lives here, though. She’s been here a while.”
“Oh. What about that detective from Melbourne? Is he here a lot?”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know,” Skye answered, but she turned her head away from Miranda when she did, hiding her expression.
Interesting.
“Kind of a strange place for a Melbourne cop to come visiting,” Miranda pressed. “I mean, it’s off the beaten track and it’s a little, well, I don’t mean to be rude but…”
She gestured helplessly all around them, at the peeling wallpaper and water-stained ceiling.
“Yes, I know,” Skye agreed. “It’s kind of in need of some attention. We don’t get a lot of passing traffic wanting to stay here, and I’m really not sure what the budget for renovations is like. This summer hasn’t been kind to Alfie’s wallet, I know that.”
Miranda decided to push her luck a bit more. “So, how long have you been a guest here?”
Skye arched one perfect eyebrow at her. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Then don’t,” was the sharp reply.
Just like that, the blonde airhead was gone, replaced by the sharp-eyed iron will of someone very much aware of their surroundings.
Which one was the real Skye, she wondered?
They marched a few more steps down the hall in silence. Even Kyle had fallen uncharacteristically mute. It wasn’t long before they were at a faded brown door with a bronze number 2 on the front.
“Here we are,” Skye said, suddenly back to her bright and smiley self.
Miranda raised her arm to knock on the door and was surprised when Skye reached out to stop her.
“You know, maybe you were right,” she said, staring off into the Bed and Breakfast. “Maybe I really shouldn’t be here when you speak to her. It would be best, I think, If I just go and leave you to it.”
“Why?” Miranda asked earnestly. “Skye, are you always this unsettled or is it just where Ginger is concerned?”
Skye smirked. “Now you’re back to asking those questions.”
“I know, but you have to admit, you’re acting strange, and there’s a murder investigation going on. You may have noticed that my boyfriend is a police detective and there’s already a Melbourne detective here, like you already know. I’m sure you don’t want to answer these kinds of questions to them, right?”
That seemed to change Skye’s attitude once again. “Look, I guess I’ve just got cold feet, or something. That’s all. I just don’t feel right. And no, I don’t want to go in there and speak to Ginger. If that makes me suspicious then so be it. I just want to make sure she’s all right. You can find that out without me, can’t you?”
Miranda decided she was being too harsh. Someone Skye knew had just been murdered. It was only natural that she be a bit unfocused and nervous. It didn’t necessarily mean that she was guilty of anything. “Yes,” she said to Skye with what she hoped was an understanding smile. “I can do that for you.”
“I don’t know,” Kyle said, rotating around Skye to examine her from every angle. “There’s something I don’t trust about this woman.”
Miranda ignored him, knowing that her personal spirit guide didn’t really trust anyone, with the exception of her and Jack. Skye thanked her over and over as she hastened away to the end of the hallway where a second set of stairs took her up to the top floor.
Feeling like she could have gotten more information out of Skye somehow, Miranda knocked on the door to room 2. Jack would have gotten more information. Somehow, she knew he would have.
“Who is it?” called a quiet voice from inside the room.
“Um. Ginger? My name is Miranda Wylder. I’m actually here with Detective Jack Travis. You remember him? I was with Jack when we found Caleb’s body.”
There was a long pause before Ginger spoke again. “Who are you?”
Kyle leaned into the wall, his shoulder phasing partway through. “She’s not exactly crushing it in the IQ department, is she?”
“Shh,” Miranda told him. “There’s a lot of emotions going around this place.”
“There’s a lot of something going around this place, all right,” he muttered.
Miranda looked off toward where Skye had gone. She should have insisted on them staying together at least until she’d been introduced to Ginger.
“Look,” she said through the door, “I just wanted to come and see if you’re alright. Can I come in? It feels a bit odd having this conversation through a door.”
Another long pause made Miranda think that was going to be all from Ginger Peck. But then the door opened and Miranda found herself looking at a short, pretty woman. Miranda was a little surprised. By the way the others had been talking she expected Ginger to be younger. This woman in front of her was at least thirty.
Unlike Skye, Ginger wore her beauty honestly. She was girl-next-door pretty, slender with long ginger red hair that trailed down the back of a blue dress that accentuated her shoulders and waistline. Her eyeglasses magnified honey colored eyes.
It was clear to Miranda that Ginger Peck was upset. Tears made streaks of mascara down her cheeks and her pretty eyes were moist with more that had yet to be shed. When she’d heard that Ginger had run away after hearing about Caleb’s death, Miranda figured that the woman must be closer to the victim than Skye or Alfie. What she was seeing now confirmed it.
“Hello,” Ginger said meekly. “You were with that man who found Caleb?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. Is there anything we can do for you?”