“Well, Janice possibly murdered a whole heap of people, so I’m not sure how much weight I’d put in her declarations of other people being dangerous.”
“Janice wouldn’t do that.”
I inclined my head. “And yet, she did.”
Olive jabbed her finger at me as if she were calling an elevator. “I’m going to tell her the vicious lies you’re spreading about her. She was right to make that complaint against you. I thought you were nice but here you are bad-mouthing her.”
“I think she’s got bigger problems than me accurately-mouthing her,” I said and realised that probably sounded a bit weird. Olive didn’t notice.
“Did you just threaten her? That’s it.” Olive limped toward me, her eyes on my staple gun the whole time. “I’m telling her right now. Staple me if you want to. It’ll be another nail in your coffin.”
Something about the way Olive was speaking about Janice had alarm bells ringing. Surely, Olive would know Janice had been arrested. Someone else would’ve had to bring her shopping, so she’d know by now, right? Surely, she’d know. Surely.
I stepped in front of Olive. “Where is Janice right now?”
“She’s at the fitting rooms with everyone else. And I plan to tell her, really loudly, about this so everyone knows what type of person you are.” Olive tried to dodge past me but I stepped in her path.
“Janice is here?” I asked, my head swivelling around as if she were likely to pop up behind me any second. Janice was definitely not too slight to strangle me.
“Yes, and I’m telling on you.” Olive dodged past me and limped to the door. “I hope the GBs prosecute you this time.”
Oz had told them about Janice. He’d definitely told them. Hadn’t he? Yes, because Officer Leonard had referenced it when he came to pick us up for the shopping trip. So why wasn’t Janice locked up? But Officer Leonard hadn’t specifically mentioned Janice. He’d said the information had led to a suspect. An individual. He hadn’t mentioned Janice by name. Or even a parole officer.
Did that mean they couldn’t use the information Oz had given them and needed proof, so they let her loose to try to catch her in the act of something. Like strangling me. Or she wasn’t the culprit and they’d let her loose so the killer would know that their frame job hadn’t worked and to try to force their hand. By strangling me. Oz had been right. Officer Leonard was once again using me for bait.
I quickly checked over the rest of the stockroom for potential murdering suspects. There was no other door, so unless Olive had been my attempted murderer then it was someone who could tunnel into blocked places. Which meant it was either Janice and Treble or some mixture of GBs and parole officers. Or just Janice. Or just Treble. Or it was Olive. Or Olive was helping.
“This is exactly why you don’t trust people in authority,” I mumbled and headed back to the door. I was going to round up my housemates and we were all going to shop together until Oz appeared to take us home. I pulled the door open. Olive stood in the doorway. Her features were twisted in anger. I lifted the staple gun back to her face.
And then I noticed a red light flashing behind her. A flashing red light never signalled anything good.
“Everyone’s gone,” Olive said. “And it’s your fault.”
I glanced around the stockroom. No exit lights and no fire alarm. Either we were dealing with an extremely well prepared murderer or this store was really not up to health and safety standards. I was glad they didn’t serve food here. People would be dropping like flies.
“Is that a fire alarm? Is everyone gone?” I asked and shooed her out of the doorway.
“You did this on purpose so I wouldn’t tell on you.”
“Yes, I managed to set off and silence a fire alarm while I was in the stockroom talking to you. Good deducing, Olive. Well done. You’ve got me.”
“I know you did it and I’m still going to tell on you,” Olive said as she followed me toward the fitting rooms.
“Awesome. You go ahead and do that,” I said and blew Oz’s whistle.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling for help,” I said around the whistle. I blew it again and waited. The seconds ticked by. No Oz. Again. We were going to have words about the effectiveness of his whistle-in-emergency situations when I got home. If no one managed to kill me first. I blew it again and glanced around the fitting rooms. Still no Oz. Where was he that he couldn’t hear? He could still hear me whistle in blocked areas and he could tunnel directly into this type of blocking. Couldn’t he? Except in emergencies maybe. A fire alarm was an emergency. Would that mean the whistle was blocked? Did that change the type of blocking? I really needed to pin him down on when this whistle worked and when it didn’t. “Okay. That’s not working. Do you know where the evacuation point is?”
“Won’t it be where it was the last two times we had to evacuate because you murdered people?” Olive asked.
“Well, despite the fact that dead people are incredibly stupid, I still doubt the fire evacuation meeting point would be the top of the building that’s on fire. Let’s get outside so we can have a quick look around and see if they’re out there. They’ll likely do a head count when they get to wherever the evacuation point is, so they’ll realise we’re missing and come and get us. Hopefully, they’ll have enough common sense to check outside.”
“I’m tunnelling home,” Olive said.
“Yes, Olive, that’s a great idea. Tunnel home, so no one knows where you are when a fire alarm has gone off. That way someone can risk their life searching this building for you when you’re sitting at home in your fluffy slippers and eating ice cream.”
“I don’t care what you think,” she said and rolled her shoulders as if starting to focus on tunnelling.
I grabbed her wrist. “Olive. Be smart. What if there really is a fire? I have no clue how the afterlife works in emergencies like this, but I am sure you can’t just tunnel home. No one will know where you are. They’ll come back and get us.”
“Let go of me.”
“Olive—”
“Help! Help!” she shrieked.
“Oh, for goodness sake, Olive—” I was about to explain how ridiculous she was being but something like a freight train hit me from behind. Arms wrapped around my waist, a shoulder thumped into my back and the force of impact took me to the floor.
I aimed the staple gun over my shoulder and fired indiscriminately. Someone grunted and I kept firing as I wriggled out from beneath my attacker. I scrambled away and whirled around, staple gun raised. A red-faced Janice bore down on me, bloody specks on her face from where I’d caught her with the staple gun.
Before I even had time to formulate a plan of attack, or more accurately defence, Janice was jerked backward by her hair. Eleanor moved from behind Janice and did some ninja-like-hand-chopping-moves that were so quick her hands were a blur. And then Janice was on her knees, gasping for breath.
“Don’t mess with my wards, Sweetie,” Eleanor said. She delivered it like a quip from an action movie but she totally owned it. And when she said “sweetie” it sounded very much like a different word. One that rhymed with “witch”.
“Are you okay, Bridget?” Eleanor asked.
“I’m fine,” I wheezed, rubbing my back, which was totally going to be bruised tomorrow. Along with my neck. And pretty much every other part of me.
“What’s wrong with—” Eleanor moved my collar out of the way and her eyes widened at the bruising around my neck. “Did she do that?” The tone of Eleanor’s voice said that she might ninja chop Janice some more if I said yes. Tempting as that was, I shook my head.
“I don’t know who it was. I was in the stockroom and someone tried to strangle me.” I pointed in Olive’s direction. “She was in there when it happened. I think they might be in on it together. The GBs know that Janice tried to murder a medium so I don’t know how she’s still free.”
“Bridget. Go to evacuation point B.” Eleanor strode over to Janice, who was st
ruggling to her feet, grabbed both her and Olive, then disappeared.
“Where’s evacuation point B again?” I asked the empty department store. I had to start paying more attention to this stuff. I really should’ve learnt my lesson by now. But then I never expected someone to try to murder me all the time. “From now on you should expect someone to murder you all the time.”
A figure moved in the shadows by the cash desk. “That is such a good idea.”
Chapter Twenty
“I’m not doing this.” I waved a hand at the figure.
“Doing what?” the voice asked.
“Being nearly murdered. I’m just not. You know I used to love shopping? And you people have ruined it for me. Ruined it. So, I’ll be at the police station waiting for you to turn yourself in with your accomplice/accomplices.”
I could go back to the police station and wait there. Oz would still be there. Was he still there? I didn’t want to get there and have them not let me leave. But Eleanor would be there with Janice and Olive, wouldn’t she? Or I could tunnel home and lock the door. Oz would come home and find me. Eleanor would find me. Either way, I was not being chased around a clothing store by a crazy killer.
Treble stepped out of the shadows and came around the front of the cash desk. I tried to tunnel but it didn’t work. I sighed heavily. I was betting that the GBs had placed a blocking on the department so after the evacuation no one could tunnel back except authorised personnel.
Treble leaned on the counter. “Problem?”
“Nope.” I checked the staple level in my gun. It was still half full. I tucked it into my pocket and stepped to a nearby floor fixture full of vests. I’d worked in fashion retail briefly so I knew that most free-standing floor fixtures had easily detachable metal arms. I hoped this was still the case. I chucked the vests onto the floor and attempted to lift the arm off the main metal frame. It came off easily. It was a straight length of metal about as long as my forearm. It would do. I lifted it and swung it. It was heavy. It would definitely do.
“Okay. Let’s get this over with, then.” I motioned for him to approach.
Treble frowned at my wielding of the metal arm. “Get what over with?”
“The bit where you try and kill me.” I swung the metal bar again. “The bit where I knock you unconscious and save the day.”
“Why would I be trying to kill you?” he asked, not taking his eyes from my makeshift weapon.
“Maybe because I know you killed the mediums to swell the ranks of the GBs so you can keep track of lawbreakers. I’d actually find it funny that you were breaking the law to do it if you weren’t killing people.”
“Why would you think that? Have you heard something?” The air around Treble became oddly still. Had he thought he was going to kill me and get away with it? Was he asking me who else he needed to kill? “Has someone told you why mediums are being murdered?”
I shrugged. “No. Yes. Maybe. So I figure you’re trying to kill me because I know it’s you. Come on, let’s get this done. My parole officer said we could watch a movie tonight and I’m pretty sure he’ll let me have a whole tub of ice cream to myself on account of you strangling me.”
Treble stepped forward. “Someone tried to strangle you?”
“Yes. You. In the stockroom earlier. That’s why you’re limping because I stomped on your foot.”
Treble held his hands out to the side and walked toward me. “I’m not limping.”
I watched him walk. He wasn’t limping. I’d stomped on my attacker’s foot really hard so I was pretty sure they wouldn’t be able to walk without limping. And Olive had limped. Maybe she and Janice were in it together. And Janice would be able to tunnel out of the room since she would be classed as “authorised personnel”.
But then here was Treble. He’d have had access to Afterlife Arrivals. And he’d called Sean out of the room. And I’d seen the types of forms that went into those files. There’d be no reason to think that, without a bit of ingenuity, Treble wouldn’t be able to fake a form and slip it into Janice’s file, implicating her as Madame Zorina’s strangler. Especially if he’d stolen Christina’s keys.
Maybe it had been Treble all along. Maybe it had nothing to do with Janice and he’d framed her.
I pointed the metal bar at his feet. “Stand on your tiptoes.”
“Ms Sway, Officer Leonard sent me to collect you and take you to evacuation point B.”
“Well, that’s a lie. Why would he send you and my GA leader?”
“He didn’t send her, she came on her own. Something to do with feeling responsible for you.” He shook his head. “As a member of the Ghosting Busters, I shouldn’t really express an opinion but I have no idea why so many people like you.”
I shrugged. “I’m charismatic.”
“Sure you are. Let’s get you to evacuation point B. Your parole officer can deal with you there.”
I gestured to him with the metal arm. “I want to be really clear. I will hit you if you come any closer.”
“You’ll strike a member of the GBs?” Treble arched an eyebrow in disbelief. I wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t think I would or he didn’t consider me that much of a threat.
“Yep. And probably more than once to make sure you’re down. Then I’ll hogtie you and wait for the cavalry.”
“I’m one of the good guys,” Treble stressed. As if speaking with more emphasis somehow made him trustworthy.
“Of course you are. Because no murderer has ever told me they didn’t do it.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Well, you’re not likely to admit to being a murderer when you’re trying to gain my trust so you can get close enough to kill me, are you? This isn’t my first rodeo, y’know.”
“Okay. This is ridiculous. Put your weapon down, or I’ll put you down.”
“Oh, yeah, that totally convinces me you’re a good guy. Good job.”
“It’s well within my scope as a GB to subdue any afterlife citizen I deem a threat to myself or others by any means necessary.”
“Well, it’s well within my scope as someone who doesn’t want to be murdered to beat anyone with this metal arm who I deem a threat to my personal safety.”
“I going to approach. Don’t hit me.” Treble held his hands up and took a step forward.
I lifted the metal arm like a baseball bat. “If you approach I’m going to hit you.”
“There could quite feasibly be a fire in here so I need to get you out,” Treble said, using an oh-so-reasonable-let-me-get-close-to-you-so-I-can-kill-you tone.
“You’ve been shooting the breeze with me for five minutes and now you’re worried about the fire?”
“Ms Sway—”
I adjusted my stance, ready to swing. “If you step into my swinging range, I will swing.”
Treble’s eyes jumped over my shoulder. Before I could work out if he were trying to distract me or if there was someone behind me, an arm wrapped around my torso while the metal arm was ripped from my hands. I stomped on my attacker’s instep. I prepared to add another four stomps but the arm released me straightaway. I’d expected more of a fight. I lost my balance at the sudden release and fell forward.
I turned the fall into an awkward forward roll. I had absolutely no idea where the move came from. I didn’t even know I was capable of a forward roll. And I doubted I could do it again. And it was probably more of a sideways roll, really. And I hurt my shoulder. Regardless, it did the job. I came to a stop in a sitting position, then scrambled to my feet so I could watch Treble and whoever showed up behind me. I pulled the staple gun from my pocket and aimed it.
“Two on one, Ms Sway.” Treble gestured to himself and Richards. “It’s time to surrender.”
“Are you in it together?” I asked, stalling for time. Both were taller than me and I was pretty sure they were quicker. They’d both outmuscle me. If I survived this, I was absolutely getting Eleanor to teach me some of that ninja stuff she’d used on Jan
ice.
“In on what together?” Richards asked.
“The medium-murdering spree.” I looked between them “Obviously. Unless there’s some other drama going on?”
“You think we’re killing mediums?” Richards laughed. Like, that’s-the-best-thing-I’ve-heard-all-day laughed. “Why would we kill mediums?”
“To swell the ranks of the GBs,” I explained, trying to keep the sudden insecurity out of my voice.
“Did you miss the part where we’re the good guys?” Richards asked and glanced to Treble for an explanation.
Treble rolled his eyes. “Leonard gives her too much leeway and now she thinks she’s Miss Marple.”
“Is that right?” Richards asked me.
I shrugged, which hurt my shoulder, and lowered my staple gun slightly. “I don’t know who Miss Marple is. And it’s not my fault that Officer Leonard likes me more than he likes you. Obviously, he sensed your murdering craziness.”
“Okay, how about you walk me through what you’ve got?” Richards asked me. “Then we can discuss it.”
“What are you doing?” Treble said.
“What? If she’s as nosy as you said, she might know something that would help us catch the perpetrator.” Richards turned back to me. “So?”
Treble stepped toward me. “This is a waste of time. Let’s grab her and go.”
“She could be able to help.”
“She can’t help. She doesn’t know anything.” Treble slapped the back of his hand into his palm to stress his point.
“If she doesn’t know anything, why not let her talk?” Richards turned my way. “Is he scaring you? Would you rather speak to me alone?”
My attention jumped between them. “I’d rather not speak to either of you without my parole officer present.”
“Ms Sway.” Richards waved at me as if to get my attention. “You know I’m a good guy, right? I’ve taken your side a couple of times now when you were about to be unfairly treated. That has to count for something. Tell me what you know, okay? I can protect you.”
“Okay.” I nodded and jabbed my staple gun in Treble’s direction. “It’s him.”
Dead and Buried: A Bridget Sway Novel (A Paranormal Ghost Cozy Mystery Series Book 4) Page 23