Realising he was free he sprang to his feet and took off running in the opposite direction.
“Er …” Sabrina turned to me and pointed after him.
I held my hands up. “You heard Charon. He’s your responsibility. I have my own problems tonight.”
“Thanks, friend,” Sabrina said and sprinted off along the corridor after him.
“No worries,” I called after her as I followed at a comfortable walking pace.
I reached the end of the corridor and turned the corner. Sabrina was standing outside the room I was sure Jeremy had used as a dressing room. She was staring inside from the doorway. Even in profile I could see her perplexed expression.
I caught her up and peeked inside the room. The ghost of the dead guy was wriggling around inside his dead body. Or through his dead body. It was like a trippy 3D image. And standing over the body was Jeremy’s nephew. He was staring at it too.
“Do you think he’s staring at the body or at the ghost trying to climb inside the body?” Sabrina whispered.
I shrugged. “Hey, Jeremy’s nephew?”
The boy turned. His face was slack, as if too much was happening for him to properly process. It took several seconds but, slowly, he lifted his arm and pointed at me.
“I know you.”
“Do you?”
“You used to bring my uncle messages.”
“I did,” I said with a nod.
“Are you bringing me messages now?”
“Nope, just dropped in for a chat.” I looked down at the body as I stepped into the room. “Did you kill him?”
“What?” The nephew stared at me, face still completely blank.
I pointed to the dead body with the ghost wriggling around in it. “Did you kill him? Or anyone else for that matter?”
The boy shook his head. “No. I found him like this.”
“Yeah, that happens to me a lot too,” I said with a sympathetic wince. “Let’s talk about something else. For example, three top-ish mediums dying in two days.”
“Three?” The nephew checked around the room as if he’d somehow missed the other dead bodies. “Who’s dead?”
“Your uncle, Magnificent Malcolm, Allseeing Eric.” I glanced down at George. “Are you sure you don’t know this guy?”
“Malcolm’s dead? Eric too?” The boy supported himself against the counter and rubbed a hand over his face as if he could rub away what was happening.
“Yep, dangerous times to be a medium. Do you know who killed your uncle?” Still looking at the floor, the boy shook his head. I pointed to George. “What about him? I know you said you don’t know him, but do you know who killed him?”
“He was like that when I got here,” the boy said.
“Did your uncle argue with anyone? Did he have any enemies?” I asked. I was aware I was being a little brusque but I was on a schedule.
A flash of teenage arrogance lit up the boy’s face. “You met my uncle.”
I nodded. “Fair point.”
“I did hear him talking to someone about increasing the number of messages he was getting. There’s a new messenger now and he asked her to help him out during shows. And I know he went to meet someone about it on the night he died but I don’t know who.”
“Ask him what she looks like,” Sabrina said. “Actually, don’t bother—I can find out who got your area from the files. No, ask him. Maybe she’s not really a facilitator.”
I turned to look at Sabrina, asking if she’d finished, and she made a shooing motion for me to relay her questions. I did.
“I never saw her—only heard her through a closed door.”
Sabrina gestured to him. “Ask him if he knows anything about Wallace.”
“Did your uncle ever mention anyone called Wallace?” I asked.
“No. Sometimes he would lock himself in a room and I could hear another voice, though.”
“Male or female? And what did they talk about?” I asked.
The nephew held his hands up in a helpless gesture. “The voice was male. And they talked about people. Audience members, I thought.”
“Anyone specific?” I pressed.
“It sounded like different people each time. What was weird, though, was it sounded as if the other guy was getting info from my uncle, not the other way around.” The boy rubbed his eyes with one hand. “But maybe I misunderstood.”
“So Wallace was using Jeremy as a source.” Sabrina looked far too smug for words. “Ask if Jeremy and the others were sharing an afterlife source.”
I relayed the question and the nephew shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t see that, though. The only way my uncle would share was if the source belonged to one of the others and he was invited into it. He wouldn’t share his contacts.”
“You said he had a meeting on the night he died. Was that at the department store or somewhere else?” I asked.
The boy shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, well, who do you think killed your uncle?” I asked.
“Honestly, I don’t know. As far as I know, this medium stuff was his life. So I imagine that his death is linked to it somehow.”
“What about the others? Did you know them well?” I asked.
“Only enough to say hi to in passing. Not enough to give you a suspect list. Do you know what happened to my uncle? The police don’t have any suspects. I don’t think they have a clue what happened.” The nephew looked at the body on the floor with George still trying to get back into it. “Was it a ghost who killed him?”
“We’re working on it.” It was the best I could offer him. “Has anyone, a ghost or alive person, approached you?”
“About what?” he asked.
“Anything.”
The nephew shook his head.
“I don’t think he did it, any of it,” Sabrina said from behind me. “He could be faking that whole ‘rabbit in the headlights’ thing but it strikes me as genuine.”
I nodded. “Me too.”
“Okay, tell him to call the police and report this. Then ask if—”
“Why does your friend keep telling you to ask me things?” the nephew asked.
“You can see her?” I asked.
“Yeah.” The boy looked Sabrina over. “And why are you both wearing overalls? My uncle said you guys always wore white suits.”
I glanced at Sabrina. Not even Madame Zorina could see our overalls. So either the nephew was dead or super gifted. I wasn’t particularly happy about either. Sabrina nodded in the boy’s direction.
I shook my head. “Charon didn’t take him.”
“Charon doesn’t check the list,” Sabrina mumbled.
“Okay, I know Charon doesn’t give the vibe that he’s professional but he is. He wouldn’t let dead folk just wander around.”
Sabrina pointed to George, who was still trying get back into his body. “He let him go.”
“No, he made you responsible for him and regardless I can’t find another two bodies. That’s like taking the laws of chance and throwing them out of a space shuttle.”
Sabrina held up a finger to me and turned to the nephew. “Does anyone know you’re a medium?
“It’s not something I advertise,” the boy said.
I looked to Sabrina. “Officer Leonard knew.”
“Did he? Or does he simply suspect?”
“He’s only a child. I don’t really want to take that chance,” I said.
“I’m nineteen.” The boy pushed away from the counter and straightened to his full height, which was pretty tall. “I’m an adult.”
“Uh-huh.” Sabrina looked him over and then turned to me. “I agree.”
“Agree about what?” the boy asked.
“We’re going to take you to another medium friend of ours. Someone’s got it in for mediums, so maybe if you’re together you can watch out for each other,” I explained. “There’s no reason to believe that anyone would be out to kill you, but let’s be safe.”
“Isn�
�t that like putting all the people the killer would want to murder in one place to make it more convenient for him?” the nephew asked.
“He does have a rather astute point,” Sabrina acknowledged.
“Okay, well, you can either come with us so you and Madame Zorina can watch each other’s backs and help fight the murderer off if they show up or you can fend for yourself. What do you want to do?” I asked.
Sabrina pointed to me but spoke to the nephew. “She has a better point.”
“That’s genius. My wife will be able to fix this.” George stopped wriggling around on the floor as he started to fade away. He looked down at his hands, screamed and disappeared.
“Ohhh. You’re going to be in so much trouble.” I pointed to the space the man had disappeared from. “You lost Charon’s passenger. You’ll probably have to take his place.”
Sabrina shook her head. “No. No, I—”
“Yep. Maybe he’ll take you to his special volcano spot,” I said.
“How did he know how to tunnel anyway?” she asked.
“Panic,” I suggested. “Help me take the nephew to Madame Zorina and she might be able to summon your passenger back.”
“Good plan.” Sabrina crouched down over the body and started rifling through his pockets until she found his wallet.
“Is she stealing from a dead man?” the nephew asked me.
I shook my head as I watched Sabrina pocket George’s wallet. “Kid, I’ve no idea what she’s doing.”
“I was finding out his full name and taking something of his so Madame Zorina could summon him. Let’s go.” Sabrina grimaced as she reached out and wrapped her hand around the boy’s wrist. “Hang on, kid, this is not pleasant.”
The nephew’s head flipped back and forth between us. “What? Maybe you could give me directions then? I can drive. And stop calling me ‘kid’.”
Sabrina nodded at me and together we tunnelled back to Madame Zorina’s office, pulling the boy with us.
I landed on my hands and knees. The boy retched while Sabrina lay curled up in a foetus position on his other side.
She groaned. “I hate doing that. I think I’m going to stay here for a while. Maybe Charon won’t notice he’s down a passenger.”
“He’ll notice,” I said and pushed myself up to sit back on my haunches, still panting. “But you don’t need to get Madame Zorina to summon him.”
“What? Why?” Sabrina croaked.
I nodded to the sobbing figure in one of the visitors’ chairs. “He’s already here.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Do you think he’s going to stop soon?” Sabrina asked as all five of us stood in a semicircle around a crying George.
I eyed him with distaste. “I hope so. I have enough of this when I’m doing my community service. Maybe I can speak to Charon about getting this to count as time off my sentence.”
“You weren’t exactly tactful when you explained his situation,” Petal reprimanded me gently.
I shook my head. “Petal, he’s dead. Nothing can change that. It’s best to rip that plaster right off and deal with the sting.”
“Still, ‘you’re dead, suck it up’ was a bit tactless,” the nephew said.
I held up a finger in his direction. “Okay, first, we can cut you loose so the murderer can take a pop at you—we didn’t have to bring you here and potentially save your life. Second, I deal with this type of behaviour every weekend, all weekend. It’s tiresome. Third, I didn’t slap some backbone into him. I could have and this situation warranted it, but I didn’t. So I’d appreciate it if everyone would cut me some slack here.”
“You wouldn’t have been able to slap any backbone into him,” Madame Zorina said, her mouth twisting in disgust as she looked at the sobbing distraught mess that was her husband. “Believe me, I’ve tried. And as a medium you think he’d take it better.”
“Yeah, you would, wouldn’t you?” I asked with an extremely pointy stare at Madame Zorina.
“So, you guys really are married?” Sabrina asked.
“Well, I suppose I’m officially a widow now, but yes.” Madame Zorina didn’t even sound slightly distressed at her husband’s passing.
“And he’s a medium, too?” Sabrina pressed.
“He’s terrible, though.” Madame Zorina spoke as though she were apologising for him.
“Bridget?” Petal pointed to her watch. Our five minutes were up.
“Find out stuff,” I instructed Sabrina.
Sabrina pursed her lips at me. “No, I thought I’d mind my own business.”
“And make sure you take him back to Charon. Soon,” I reminded her.
“How?” Sabrina asked.
“Figure it out.” I grabbed hold of Petal’s hand and tunnelled us back to the department store before Sabrina could ask any more questions.
“Ah, there you are.” Officer Leonard said as we reappeared by the fitting rooms. “Did you manage to find anything?”
I looked Officer Leonard square in the eye and told him the truth. “Nope.” I had not managed to find a stitch of clothing.
“That’s a shame. Maybe I’ll see if I can arrange another shopping trip for you tomorrow night. It’s important to have enough clothes.”
“Y’know, I think we might be alright. We can make do. Right, Petal?” I asked and Petal nodded slowly as though she didn’t fully understand the question.
“Let’s get you two back upstairs.” Officer Leonard placed his hand on my shoulder and tunnelled us back to the creepy mannequin graveyard.
“Did you check out those two girls?” I asked, scanning the room for them.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Officer Leonard said and walked away without answering my question.
“Does he always walk off in the middle of a conversation?” Petal asked.
“Not always. It tends to happen when—” I sighed and turned around to find Oz standing there.
“They’re letting us go.Petal, can you please round everyone up?” he asked and Petal nodded, smiled at him and skipped off across the room.
“They’re letting us go without questioning us?” I asked Oz.
“Looks like it.” Seconds ticked by and he stood in front of me, arms folded, silent, waiting.
“I went to see the nephew of the first murdered medium I found,” I explained to Oz’s stony expression. “My medium friend was nearly murdered earlier, so I wanted to go and see if the nephew knew anything. I’m not sure if he did or not, but there was another dead medium when we got there. And I only took Petal with me because I thought it was safer than leaving her here. Do you know she’s friends with people who carry switchblades?”
Silently, he placed his hand on my lower back and nudged me toward Petal and the others who were coming our way. Everyone held hands and he tunnelled us all home.
“Anna, can you take everyone inside, please? Pam, maybe boil some milk for hot chocolates?” Oz suggested.
“Oooh, hot chocolate.” Petal reached out to pull me after her but Oz’s warm fingers curled around my wrist.
“I need to speak to Bridget for a moment, Petal. You know where the marshmallows are, right?”
“Is she in trouble?” Petal asked, as Lucy, Pam and Anna all hovered to hear.
“No more than normal. Head on inside,” Oz said and made a shooing motion.
I rounded on Oz as soon as they were out of sight to get my defence in first. “I told you the truth.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” Oz exclaimed. “I have given you all the latitude I can give you. You cannot keep doing this. Do you understand? I pulled strings to get you into the VTP because that was what you said you needed—”
“I did not say I needed to be a temp.”
“You said you needed to be kept busy. Changing jobs every so often will keep you busy. It’ll give you a chance to learn new skills. And eventually you’ll find the job that is right for you.”
“What if none of these jobs are right for me?”
&
nbsp; “Bridget. You’ve tried two.” Oz held up his fingers and counted them off. “Facilitator and induction administrator. You haven’t even given the second one a proper chance yet. You will find a job that’s perfect for you but you have to keep at it. You can’t expect the first job to be right and you can’t give up because it’s not.”
“I’m not giving up. I’m trying,” I exclaimed.
“Are you? Are you genuinely trying to make this work?” Oz stared at me for a long moment. “Because I don’t feel like you are. This isn’t the same as being alive. You don’t get to swap jobs because you don’t like your boss or you don’t like the uniform or you don’t like the office coffee. There are consequences for your actions here in a way that there aren’t in life and, despite the fact I keep stressing it to you, I still don’t think you grasp the severity of what those consequences might be.”
“I do grasp it.”
“No, you don’t,” Oz insisted. “You class a GB as a friend despite the fact he was responsible for giving you a hundred-year community service term and admitting you to a mental facility. He’s used you as bait every other day. You go out of your way to break rules that are meant to keep you, and your housemates, safe. And now you think because you’re telling me the truth about all these illegal things you’re doing, that it’s okay to do it—as long as you tell me.”
I threw my hands up in frustration. “I can’t win with you. I tell you and I’m in trouble. I don’t tell you and I’m in trouble.”
Oz shook his head. “This is exactly what I mean. You don’t see it. Telling me or not telling me is not what gets you in trouble. It’s the doing whatever it is that you might or might not tell me that gets you in trouble.”
“That’s not fair. It’s not my fault that dead bodies keep falling out at me. What am I supposed to do?”
“You’re supposed to let the police handle it.”
“Johnson is inept. He put Katie in a mental institution for murder when she hadn’t even murdered anyone.”
Dead and Buried: A Bridget Sway Novel (A Paranormal Ghost Cozy Mystery Series Book 4) Page 15