Decadent Demise

by Stephanie Damore

  Nick rejoined us just before we got to Felicity's town house. It was in a newly constructed complex that Edward had overseen, of course. He had lived in one as well.

  "She there?" I asked.

  "For now," Nick replied.

  "Really, she's leaving?" I asked.

  "If the plane ticket on her dresser is any indication," Nick replied with his eyebrows raised.

  I stepped on the gas.

  Edward showed me where to park and then, together, we jogged up the cement walkway and I knocked on Felicity's front door.

  "Hi, can I help you?" Felicity said when she answered. She was wearing a UCLA sweatshirt and leggings. Her black, curly hair flowed down her back. It was one of those cases where everyone knew who Felicity was, being the new girl, but she didn't know everyone herself. Edward glared at her.

  "Hi, I'm Claire London. I own the bakery in town. Would it be okay if I came in and talked to you for a minute?"

  "What's this about?" Felicity asked cautiously.

  "Edward Slayden?" I replied hesitantly.

  "He sent you here to talk to me, didn't he? The coward."

  "Coward? How dare you insult me!" Edward snapped.

  I ignored him. "Um, not exactly," I replied.

  "Devon sent you then?" Felicity asked.

  "Who?"

  "Devon, Edward's personal assistant."

  "No, I didn't even know he had one."

  "Oh, he has one all right. I thought he was all chivalrous, sending roses to me at work, and all sorts of sweet little love notes and trinkets, until I realized that he hadn't sent any of them to me personally. He had his personal assistant, Devon, manage his love life. Edward had the same routine for every woman he dated. There was even an official calendar as to what gift you sent after which date."

  Wow, I mouthed.

  "Yeah, Devon spilled the beans," Felicity said.

  "Wait until I talked to Devon. He's fired!" Edward said.

  "You can't fire anyone, you're dead," Nick reminded him again.

  I shook my head, hoping the two ghosts would shut it for a minute.

  "So, if you're thinking of dating him, take my advice and don't," Felicity continued.

  "What? No." It was obvious Felicity had no idea Edward was dead. Edward realized it too. "No, the thing is ... he died last night," I said.

  "He what? You're joking. He can't be dead." Felicity shook her head.

  "I wish I was, but I'm not. I'm really sorry," I said.

  "How? When?" Felicity asked. Either she was a really good liar, or she had nothing to do with Edward's death. I was betting the latter.

  "Car accident." I left out the part about someone tampering with his brakes.

  "Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh." Felicity stood dumbfounded in the doorway. She folded her arms across her chest and rubbed her arms comfortingly. "I just can't believe it. He turned out to be a real jerk, but I'm sad that he died. How awful."

  Edward threw his hands up in the air at being insulted once more.

  "I know," I replied to Felicity. Just like how I knew she had nothing to do with his death. There was no point is taking up anymore of her time. "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know."

  "Yeah, thanks. I was just getting ready to fly back home last minute for the holiday. I'm glad you caught me before I left."

  "Yeah, me too." If I hadn't, she'd still be suspect number one, or maybe it was two. I had lost count.

  I said goodbye to Felicity, and my ghostly shadows followed me back to the car.

  "Now what?" Edward said once were driving again.

  "I'm not sure," I replied. "Nick, do you want to head out and do some paranormal spying? Maybe you can pick something up?" I offered.

  "Why does he get to do that?" Edward asked.

  "Because our luck, you would end up in Alaska, and I'm not going up there to find you," I replied. Although, if Edward was in Alaska, he'd be someone else's problem. That was something to think about. Before I could change my mind, Nick set off, and Edward and I drove the short distance to the bakery.

  6

  We got to the bakery in time to see Autumn escorting Ellen out to her patrol car.

  "What in the world is going on here?" I asked my sister.

  It was Ellen who answered me. "Your sister's gone ahead and arrested me."

  "I have not arrested you. I've asked you to accompany me down to the station for further questioning. Do you have handcuffs on? No, no you do not. You are coming with me on your own free will."

  "Call it what you'd like, but I'm sticking to my story," Ellen said.

  Autumn was beyond annoyed. I could see it on her face. Inside the bakery window, I could see customers watching the scene unfold outside. Poor Amelia was left inside holding down the fort on her own.

  "Seriously, Autumn? You couldn't talk to Ellen after the bakery closed? You just had to come down here and make a scene?"

  "The law doesn't follow a time clock, Claire."

  It was my turn to be annoyed. "What is this even all about though? You already questioned Ellen."

  "I'm sorry, this really has nothing further to do with you. This is between the County and Miss Perkins at this point."

  "Your sister thinks I killed Edward on account of I may have threatened him last night and I don't have an alibi."

  "You what!?" I was incredulous. "When, where?" I demanded. Then I realized my sister was standing at the ready, waiting to take in all the details. Perhaps Ellen should keep her mouth shut. I was about to tell her not to answer me when Ellen replied, "In the parking lot in front of Carol's.”

  “The scene of the crime?” I hung my head. That was about the worst place she could have made such a threat.

  “But I swear to you, I never touched his car.”

  “Sure you didn’t.” Autumn’s eyes were wide as if she didn’t believe that for a moment.

  “Call me if you need to make bail,” I said, and I wasn’t even joking. I wouldn’t put it past Autumn to have Ellen charged with murder before the day was through. Autumn left to take Ellen to the sheriff department.

  I walked into the bakery, and all heads turned in my direction.

  “Now don’t you all go spreading rumors,” I said to my customers. “You all know that Ellen didn’t kill Edward.” We just have to figure out who did. I said the last part to myself.

  I racked my brain the rest of the afternoon, and even after we closed, trying to figure out how to help Ellen. Surely, she couldn't be a murderer. I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't believe it. I needed to believe in her innocence and that meant tracking down the real killer.

  "Who else did you talk to last night?" I asked Edward in the bakery's kitchen.

  "No one special," Edward replied nonchalantly.

  "Come on, help me out here."

  "I'm sorry, but didn't your sister already take Ellen in for questioning?" Edward asked.

  "Yes, but it's not her. She's not guilty."

  "Why are you so convinced? You heard the way she spoke about me. The woman hated my guts."

  "I hate to break it to you, but a lot of people in this community hated your guts."

  "Well, that's not a very nice thing to say," Edward replied.

  "I'm sorry, but it's the truth. I keep trying to tell you that you upset a lot of people with your building proposals and your talk of economic prosperity, but you're still not listening to me even after one of those people killed you." Again, I was on a roll and I wasn't about to stop. "Listen, you might know how to make money and you might have been really good at it, but you don't understand what makes a community a community. It's the people who live there and the relationships that they have. In fact, life is all about relationships. People don't care about how much money you have, where you worked, what type of car you drive, or how big your house is. People care if you're a decent human being. If you help your neighbor. If you have a kind heart. When you look at life that way, how do you think you did?" I stared down Edward, waiting for him to speak.
/>   "Well, I guess I failed all of that then," Edward said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  "Yeah, it looks like you did." In fact, I would bet my bakery that if Edward had been a nicer person, he would still be alive. "So, back to my questions. You didn't talk to anyone else or see anyone suspicious last night?"

  Edward shook his head. I could tell he was still deep in thought following our conversation. Maybe it was a good thing, although I couldn't see how much good it would do now. It wasn't like Edward would have an opportunity to change his ways.

  Nick rejoined us.

  "Any luck?" I asked.

  "Nothing, unless you count that no one's really all that surprised Edward was murdered," Nick replied.

  I sighed. Maybe I wouldn't be hosting Thanksgiving after all.

  7

  "What about old man Duffy?" Nick asked after a bit.

  "What about him?" Mr. Duffy was the ghost that haunted Carol's bar. Well, if you could even call it haunting. The bar's resident drunk, one day he passed away after downing his whiskey and even though his body was quickly removed and laid to rest, his soul decided to stick around. The only problem with him is that he was perpetually drunk. It was a fact: If you died drunk, your ghost was drunk too. Duffy was pretty harmless, but I didn't see how he could be much help.

  "You'd be surprised. He's pretty observant. Sure, he doesn't make a very good poker player, always forgetting what is wild, but sometimes he surprises you," Nick said.

  "You've played poker with Duffy?" I asked.

  Nick shrugged his shoulders. "When we needed an extra player."

  "It's worth a shot. Let's head out."

  Nick walked in through the door while I opened it for Edward and me. I surveyed the scene. Tomorrow might be the biggest bar night of the year, but the turnout tonight didn't look too bad either. In the corner, a keyboardist and a guitar player were busy setting up for the set. Carol’s was the kind of place where you could eat good food while listening to good music and hanging out with good friends. It was also the only place in Bleu Clair Bay that offered any type of nightlife. If you wanted to live it up more, you were going to have to keep on going down M-22 into downtown Traverse City. I was hoping the hustle and bustle of the scene would help me talk to Duffy. Although, if I had been smart about it, I would've brought another living, breathing human being with me so if I had to talk, I wouldn't look like I was talking to myself. Hopefully Nick would be able to handle the situation.

  "Any of these people look familiar from last night?" I said to Edward while scratching my nose to try to hide the fact that I was talking aloud.

  Edward looked around. "I don't know, maybe? I wasn't really paying attention."

  "There's Duffy," Nick said.

  Old man Duffy was sitting in his usual barstool at the far end of the bar. He picked up his half glass of whiskey and swirled the ice around before taking a drink. It was funny, no one else could see Duffy yet no one else dare sat in that last bar stool either. Even on a Friday night when the bar was packed, that bar stool would remain open.

  I followed the guys over to the bar and stood behind Duffy's barstool. I looked up at the bottles of alcohol that were stacked behind the counter, pretending I was trying to decide what to drink.

  "Mr. Duff, sir, what's up, my man?" Nick said patting the old ghost on his shoulder.

  "Oh you know, same old same old. How have you been, Nicholas?"

  "Can't complain. Hey, listen, this is a buddy of mine, Edward. He was here last night. Does he look familiar?"

  Mr. Duffy leaned back as if trying to bring Edward into focus.

  "Can't say that he does." Mr. Duffy burped under his breath.

  "He's absolutely no help," Edward said.

  "Well now, don't go getting your trousers in a pinch, young man. I've got better things to do with my time than babysit a tyke like you," Mr. Duffy replied.

  "Well, you see, the thing is my buddy here was murdered last night. Someone cut his brakes while he was in here having a couple of drinks." Nick made a scissor motion with his fingers.

  "Well, is that so?" That thought seemed to make Mr. Duffy care a little bit more.

  "Right, how's that for an evening out? You're sitting here trying to have a drink or two and someone's out in the parking lot getting ready to kill you."

  "You just can't trust people these days, now can you?" Mr. Duffy said.

  "That you can't, but you know who you can trust?" Nick asked

  "No, who?" Mr. Duffy asked with childlike wonder.

  "You." Nick pointed at Mr. Duffy.

  "Me?" Mr. Duffy used his thumb to point at his chest.

  "That's right, fine sir. I'm counting on you to try to remember if you saw anyone acting a bit off here last night. Maybe you saw someone who doesn't usually come around here or you overheard someone talking."

  "Well, now let me think about it." Duffy swayed a little bit on his barstool. "I did see something a little bit odd, I suppose, when I stepped outside for a smoke." Leave it to a drunk ghost to still take a cigarette break.

  "What was that, Duffy?" Nick asked.

  "What was what?" Duffy asked.

  "Why are we even wasting our time?" Edward demanded.

  Nick was much more patient. "What did you see that was odd?"

  "Oh, that's right. Father Thompson. He was pacing around the parking lot. I thought it was a bit odd, given how much snow was falling outside, and there he was, walking around outside without a coat on."

  "Father Thompson?" I said aloud.

  "Excuse me, ma'am?" the bartender asked me. "Can I get you something?"

  Crud, there I was opening my mouth again when I shouldn't have. "No, I'm sorry. I thought I just saw someone I knew." I looked over my shoulder for added believability.

  "Thanks, buddy, we appreciate it," Nick was saying to Mr. Duffy. Nick caught my attention and we looked at each other in disbelief. I shook my head, unable to believe where this case was headed.

  Father Thompson was a kind man. A widower, he had been head of our community church for my entire life. I couldn't see how he could possibly be involved, but I was willing tocheck it out. I bundled back up and walked outside to the parking lot and looked up at the neighboring church. The lights inside were off, leaving only the exterior lights on and casting the church's steeple in a silhouette against the clear nighttime sky.

  "I don't think anyone is there," Nick replied.

  "No, neither do I." I walked along the parking lot, nodding or waving to a person or two as they made their way into the bar. Now, standing in front of the church, I turned around to see if anything looked different from this vantage point.

  That's when Nick pointed it out. "Look, above your shoulder," he said.

  Edward and I did as he instructed. There, in the corner of the church, was a security camera pointed directly across the street at the bar's parking lot.

  "Hot dog," I replied. “Let's check it out.” I was willing to bet that the security camera had caught whoever had cut Edward's brakes. Heaven forbid it was Father Thompson. If that was the case, we could only hope that he hadn't already destroyed the video footage. I looked over to the side door of the church.

  "I'm on it," Nick said. Like magic, he walked right through the walls, leaving Edward and I standing on the outside. A moment later, the side door gave way with a soft click, and I snuck down along the brick wall of the church and disappeared into the sanctuary.

  "Where to?" Nick whispered.

  I thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. The church office?"

  We navigated our way through the dark. The moonlight illuminated the stained-glass windows and reflected off the wood pews inside.

  We cut through the sanctuary and found ourselves in the congregation hall.

  It was a good thing that Nick and I were familiar with the church layout or we would've had a heckuva time inside trying to find the office in the dark. In fact, we had been married in this church almost six years ago. I resisted th
e urge to turn on a light once inside the office, even though it would’ve made the job much easier. Instead, I looked for a blinking light or some sort of computer equipment. I assumed the security cameras recorded to some type of device like a DVR.

  "Right here," Edward whispered. It was funny that he was whispering given that no other human would've been able to hear him, even if we weren't in fact alone.

  "Is there any way we can play back the footage and see what is on there?" I asked the guys.

  "Not unless you can access the computer," Edward responded.

  "Looks like we’re going to have to take it with us," I replied.

  "Not so fast." The woman's voice came unexpectedly from behind me. I turned around so fast I about gave myself whiplash

  "What in the world?" It was Tonya.

  "Hand the DVR over." I noticed the southern drawl was completely absent from her voice.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked.

  "I said hand it over. I came here for that DVR and I'm not leaving without it."

  "Why? What do you need it for?”

  “How stupid are you?” Tonya asked me.

  “Hey now,” Nick said, but of course, Tonya couldn’t hear him.

  “It was you? You cut Edward's brakes? But why?"

  "That man was ruining everything. You know he was. I finally made it. Good husband, a nice house. Like that, I was watching it all slip away. Not this time. This here is my time, my second chance. I've been thinking about a way to break in when I saw you waltz right in through the side door. I couldn't let you get to it first."

  I tried to think of a way to stall her.

  "I thought you were from Louisiana?" I said while looking around the darkened room for some type of weapon.

  Tonya laughed. "It doesn't matter where I'm from, only where I'm going, and where I'm going is on the up and up. I'm not about to let some fancy pants real estate developer take away everything I've worked hard for. Now hand it over."

  I was about to tell Tonya that I couldn't just hand it over to her. It was connected to the computer with things like wires and such. But that was when I saw the revolver in her hand. Thankfully, I wasn't alone.