The room was silent.
“So, who can we trust?”
Penny looked at Mallory. “No one. Trust no one outside of this room. We think there were two people involved.”
“What about Joelle and Bronson?” Eve asked.
Penny shook her head. “Why would they let you think Geneviève’s death was part of the game? They’re running the game. They obviously know she was murdered.”
Eve bit her lip. “Bologna. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe Jo would do any of this. And what about my sister? You can’t possibly think Michèle is involved?”
Nana walked over and patted Eve’s back, “Of course, we don’t think Michèle is involved. If she were to murder anyone, it would be you first.”
Eve snorted and gave a nod. “Fair enough.”
“So, whose gonna check the shed with me?” Danior asked. “We’ll need the rest of you to run interference, so no one notices what we’re doing.”
“No, no. It’s not safe. Besides you’ll mess up my evidence. I’ll go.” Kaden said.
“I’ll come with you,” Penny agreed.
Rebel blocked the door. “Absolutely flipping not. You’re both still much too weak.”
“We’re fine.” Kaden pushed to his feet.
Rebel pushed him back down.
“Rebel, he can have you arrested for that,” Penny threatened. “And I can still whoop your butt.”
“Bring it. I dare you. I didn’t want to have to resort to this but I will use Eve’s purse on you if I have to.” She glanced at Eve who was as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning. “Eve, ready the handcuffs.”
Eve rifled through her bag and pulled them out. “I’ve got pepper spray, too. Just say the word. I’ve been waiting to test this puppy out.”
“Eve! What the hell,” Penny shouted. “I’m your boss.”
“And I’m your elder. Now, sit the hell down and rest until Nurse Bossy Pants says you’re good to go. I’ll go with Danior. The bulk of my friends are over seventy and look half-dead anyway, so the smell won’t bother me none.”
Mallory grimaced. “I’ll try the phones again. Now that we have power back, we just might get through. Let’s all meet downstairs in the parlor in half an hour.”
30
M allory hurried down the stairs of the secret passage exiting into the corridor across from the parlor. The coast was clear, not even a ghost in sight. She was about to carry on to the kitchen when she noticed the lamp flickering on the desk. Spoke to soon. She watched the blinking lamp and could have sworn someone was trying to communicate with her. Sadly, she didn’t know Morse code. Suddenly the lamp stopped blinking, and then, without warning, the drawer moved forward several inches.
The ghost was trying to communicate with her. She could feel a hand in her pocket. She reached for the letter and held it out. “Is this what you want?” She asked, aloud.
“Is that what who wants?” A voice from the adjoining library startled her. She dropped the letter into the drawer and closed it with her hip just as the pocket doors were thrown open.
“Oh, nothing. I was just talking to the cat.”
Lana smiled and went back to searching the library. She seemed particularly interested in the bust of Mallory’s grandfather.
Mallory hurried down the hall, accidentally bumping into Nataliya as she rounded the corner into the kitchen.
Muttering a sincere, “sorry,” she reached out to steady the woman.
Her eyes peered over her shoulder to the island which was covered with dishes, plates, and pans, all filled with yummy food. Nataliya had clearly been busy. All the scents hitting Mallory’s nose smelled delicious and her stomach let out an embarrassing growl.
“Is it dinner time already?”
“Getting close,” Nataliya said, picking up a cheese platter. “It’s not a formal dinner tonight though, Miss. More of a buffet, so grab a snack if you need to. I’m placing them on the buffet in the dining room.”
“Great. Do you know where Joelle is?” Mallory asked.
Nataliya grimaced. “I have no idea. Everyone is always disappearing around here.”
Spotting the phone on the kitchen wall near the pantry, Mallory stepped around Nataliya and picked up the receiver, hoping they had service to the landline again. Sure enough, her hunch was correct. “About time. We can finally get the authorities out here.”
Bronson swung open the kitchen door just as Nataliya left. He paused in the doorway. “Are the phones working again?”
“It appears so.”
Mallory was just about to explain further when the operator answered.
“Bohemian Lake police, front desk. Hold, please.”
Mallory leaned against the wall and waited as music played through the phone. Glancing out the window across the room, she impatiently drummed her fingers along the countertop. Feeling like she was being watched, she glanced around the corner into the hall that led to the foyer.
No one was there.
Acting on a hunch, Mallory pulled Geneviève’s cell phone out of her pocket and, yes, found there was a signal. It was weak, but it was there. She called the number labeled as Richie Rich. She wasn’t that surprised when she heard Daemon Wraith’s voice say leave a message. She decided not to and ended the call just as the phone flashed a message that it was almost out of battery power. Ignoring the warning, she scrolled down until she reached Ellie’s number. She hesitated for a second before hitting dial.
She half expected it to go to voicemail. She absolutely did not expect someone to answer it and not say anything. Nor did she expect to hear Michèle’s voice in the background. Or Joelle’s. But she did. She listened for a second as they chatted about finding the next clue before the call abruptly ended. She glanced at the screen, wondering if it had chosen that moment to power down, but it appeared that whoever had been on the other end had hung up. With a shiver, Mallory realized that the killer must have kept Ellie’s phone.
She was just about to hang up the main line to the BLPD and try again when the music stopped.
“Hello,” she said into the phone.
When she didn’t get a response, she tried again. “Hello? Is anyone there?” She tapped the receiver twice and listened to dial tone. Then she dialed the number once again. The phone rang.
That was when she noticed the two empty tea cups with a suspicious white residue in the sink. There was a bottle of prescription sleeping pills on the counter by the stove.
Nataliya returned to grab another tray.
“Nat, who do these belong to?”
“I was wondering the same thing, dear. I thought maybe it was part of your little game. That’s why I haven’t washed the cups yet.”
Mallory nodded and Nataliya left again. No wonder Kaden and Penny had been sleeping so heavily while Emilion was awake and resting in his room.
Mallory palmed the prescription bottle and stuck it in her sweater pocket. Someone had spiked Kaden and Penny’s tea. Somebody hadn’t wanted them around to tell the truth about Geneviève’s death.
“Bohemian Lake, please hold,” the lady on the other end of the landline said.
She waited for the operator to return when Ellie’s name flashed on Geneviève’s cell screen. She debated answering the call for a few seconds, and just when she finally decided to answer, the ringing stopped. She powered Geneviève’s cell down fast and hid it away in her pocket just as the door hinges behind Mallory squeaked.
Feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up, she reached for the butcher knife lying on the counter next to her.
When she turned around, there was no one there.
31
W ith her heart thudding against her rib cage, Mallory hung up the phone and willed her legs to move down the hall. She was scared, shocked, and emotionally drained. She headed back to the parlor where almost everyone was now gathered, munching on food from the buffet table.
Rebel and Nana helped an unsteady Kaden and Penelope walk into the room behi
nd her.
“Thank god, you guys are finally up.” Joelle said.
They led them to the couch where they collapsed. Penelope eagerly reached for the cup in Nana’s hand and took two gulps before setting it down.
“I guess that CO really knocked you guys out, huh?” Vee mumbled.
“Actually, I don’t think it was CO poisoning at all.” Mallory handed the bottle to Kaden. “I found these sleeping pills in the kitchen beside the tea pot. I think someone has been drugging you and Penny.”
Kaden’s eyes widened. “Joelle gave me that tea. She said Lana made it.”
“Lana did make it. Ask her,” Joelle retorted.
“No wonder I was wide awake. I must have grabbed the wrong pot,” Lana said. “I made two pots. One for myself and one for everyone else. I have trouble sleeping, especially in new places.”
Mallory eyed Lana suspiciously. “I also found residue in the water glasses by their bed. Someone gave them more.”
“Well, that wasn’t me.” Lana exclaimed.
“It wasn’t me either.” Joelle argued.
“Do you remember who was in your room, Kaden?
Kaden shook his head. “Rebel woke me a few times, but I’d stake my life on the fact that it wasn’t her.” He said.
Penny crossed her arms and huffed. “I’d agree with that.”
Kaden chugged his coffee and sat up a little straighter. “Well, it’s illegal to drug someone, and I will figure out which one of you it was.”
Mallory nodded, “Okay, now that that’s out of the way, I think there are a couple of clues you all need to see. Danior, do you still have that note you found Friday night?”
Danior pulled out a folded piece of paper and read the note out loud: “’Ditch Michèle and meet me in the cellar in ten minutes. Geneviève.”’
Michele gasped, practically spitting her food out at the same time. “How rude!”
“Who was Geneviève meeting in the cellar?” Harley asked.
“I don’t know,” Mallory replied. “That’s what we’re hoping to find out. Anybody know who this note belonged to?”
Danior waved it in the air while Mallory looked straight at Daemon. His aura flashed guilt. He put his hand up. “It was me… someone shoved that note underneath the study door while Michèle and I were searching the first floor.”
“Why?” Mallory asked.
“I had arranged to buy the coin from Geneviève. We were supposed to complete the transaction a few days ago, but she said she wanted more money. Money I could not give her. I came here to try to reason with her and to impress upon her the historical significance of the coin. When I saw the note, I thought maybe she had a change of heart.” He waved his hand toward the note.
“Why would you think that Geneviève had the coin?”
“She said that she knew where the coin was. She saw it when she stayed here.”
“Wait a minute. Geneviève stayed here?”
“Yes, she was here for the treasure hunt in the summer.”
“What happened when you went down to the cellar?” Harley asked.
“You know what happened.”
“I mean,” Harley said, “was Geneviève down there?”
Daemon rubbed his hands over his face. “Not that I saw.”
Mallory raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. She could tell from his aura that he was telling the truth.
Bronson closed the library door and walked over to the fireplace. He threw another log onto the fire. “It’s freezing in here,” he said, rubbing his hands together.
“It is cold in here,” Lana agreed, setting aside her plate of cheese and chicken skewers to rub her shoulders.
They were right; the temperature had suddenly dropped. There was a crack from the desk in the corner, and everyone jumped. Mallory pointed to where the drawer was rattling.
Lana gripped her arm. “What the hell is going on here!” she hissed. “Please tell me the drawer is rigged to do that?”
Mallory smiled and patted her hand. “Not so much. It’s the ghost again. She's trying to show us something,” Mallory said as she watched the glowing figure attempt to grasp the handle.
Harley sat down in the wingback chair closest to the fire. “Does anyone else think that maybe the ghost killed Geneviève to make sure no one got their hands on that coin?”
Michèle laughed. “Get serious.”
Without warning Mallory felt a shriek in her mind so loud she dropped to her knees, holding her head in her hands.
“Mallory?” Lana said, her voice alarmed. “What's happened?”
With effort, Mallory got to her feet. “The ghost screamed,” she said.
“Well, this is ridiculous,” Harley groused. “This is obviously part of the game. A trick or an illusion.”
Suddenly the drawer seemed to jiggle; then they all jumped as it came crashing toward them. “Sweet jeepers!” Lana yelled as she pulled Mallory out of the way. “She's trying to kill us!”
Again Mallory heard a loud shriek in her head, which caused her to wince, but then there was a word that followed that Mallory was able to catch. Letter … it said.
Her eyes shifted to the desk, and, cautiously, Mallory approached it.
“What are you doing?” Lana asked. “Keep away from there and let's get out of here!”
Mallory held up a finger to her lips and gave Lana a pointed look. She felt another tug toward the drawer. She walked carefully around the side of the desk.
Mallory looked up at Lana and shot her a smile. “She's just trying to show us something.”
Lana gave her a puzzled look and came over to inspect the paper she held, but Mallory placed her arm behind her back. “I found this when I searched Geneviève’s room earlier. I don’t think she had a chance to deliver it, so I placed it in the desk for safe keeping, but apparently the ghost wants me to share it with you guys now:
Ellie,
It’s all set up. In a few short days, we’ll be rich. But watch your back. We can’t trust Ron anymore. The coin’s still with good old Dad. Let’s grab the coin tonight and make a run for it.
Be careful!!!
Geneviève.
“Hmm,” Harley said, “sounds like Ellie was planning on double crossing someone named Ron.”
Eve wrapped her sweater coat tighter around her body. “I guess that explains why she’s missing.” She looked around at the others. “Come on, we’re all thinking it. This Ron person killed Ellie when he discovered she was about to betray him.”
Lana made a small sound in her throat. Eyes widening, her gaze darted about the room. Fear etched across her face. Mallory tracked her gaze toward the room’s entryway where Bronson was leaning against the doorway. His dinner jacket was slung casually over one arm. He looked harmless enough. Next to him were Vee and Harley, who’s expressions turned stony. Lana sank back in her seat and gazed straight ahead into the fire. Hurt flickered in her dark eyes. Other than the shadows cast by the fireplace, there wasn’t anything there. When Mallory looked back, Harley was sitting down next to his wife. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple.
Then he stood up. “You know Ron sounds a whole lot like somebody we know.” He pointed toward Bronson, “You killed Geneviève Edmondson.”
Michèle looked at Harley. “The butler? Really? Again? That’s who you people think did it.”
“He’s not really a butler, you know,” Harley said defensively. “And, if he isn’t the killer, then who do you think it is?”
“Before we start pointing fingers, there is one other thing we should point out. One of these letters is not actually from Geneviève,” Mallory said, pointing to the note Dani found in the chair. Next she unfolded the note she’d found in Geneviève’s belongings, and laid it down so they were side-by-side.
They each compared the two notes. “It’s definitely different handwriting. Also, this name isn’t necessarily Ron. That could be a b. So, we could be looking at Ron, or Rob.” Eve made a face.
“Eve’s right. It’s a little hard to read. It could even be an h. Anyway, we think Geneviève was already dead by the time someone left this note for Daemon.” Mallory said.
“Well, then whoever pretended to be Geneviève to lure Daemon downstairs is most likely our killer,” Eve said.
“Then where is he?” Nana asked. “He’s certainly not hiding in this house. We would have seen him by now.”
“What if we have seen him?” Gloria asked. “We’re all strangers to one another. I mean, I know a few of you, but that’s it.”
Michèle nodded. “She’s right. How do we know that everyone here is who they say they are?”
Eve, who was sitting next to Daemon, stood up and walked over to her sister. “So, you mean, Ron or Rob could be anyone of the men?”
Michèle shook her head. “Or women.”
Eve nodded. “Right like Rob could be short for Roberta, the ghost of the manor.”
Lana stood up. “What about Daemon? He’s not a professor like he claims to be. I looked him up. The only Daemon Wraith who taught at the University was born in 1948.” She pointed to Daemon. “There’s no way he’s over thirty, let alone seventy. Maybe he goes by Rob because he’s some descendent of this ghost, come to take his revenge on her behalf. He does work with the paranormal, right?”
Vee turned worried eyes to Daemon.
Bronson piped up. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Daemon smirked. “It’s a typo.”
“I have an idea,” Denise said. “Why don’t we show our driver’s licenses? I can prove who I am.” She stood over Daemon and looked down. “What about it? Can you prove who you are?”
“No.” Seemingly unconcerned, Daemon swung his arm over the back of the sofa. “Someone saw fit to rob me last night, remember.”
“According to that letter from Geneviève, the coin was with Dad,” Eve said.
“So, are we saying we now think one of these guys is Geneviève’s father? Because I don’t think they’re old enough—well, except for Bronson,” Vee pointed out.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Joelle’s voice hardened. “Bronson is not Geneviève’s dad,” she shouted.
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