Beyond Dead: A Bridget Sway Novel (A Paranormal Ghost Cozy Mystery Series)

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Beyond Dead: A Bridget Sway Novel (A Paranormal Ghost Cozy Mystery Series) Page 21

by Jordaina Sydney Robinson


  “You should know better.” Eleanor thrust her hands on her hips, tilting her head up to look at him.

  He held up his hands as if to surrender. “We were just talking.”

  She jabbed her finger in his face. “You can’t question a probationer without their probation officer, their GA leader or legal representation present.”

  Officer Leonard gave a small shake of his head. “We weren’t—”

  “What’s going on?” Oz sauntered up looking back and forth between us all.

  “They were illegally questioning your parolee,” Eleanor informed him.

  “Oh?” Oz folded his arms, his muscles bunching and making me sigh at the sight. Sabrina elbowed me in the ribs and wagged her finger at me.

  “We were just chatting, that’s all.” Officer Leonard was still smiling, hands still up.

  “Bridget?” Oz looked to me for confirmation.

  “Hmm?” I tore my eyes from his broad shoulders and looked up to his warm ocean eyes. I was thinking about taking a swim in them. They looked warm and swimmable.

  Oz knelt in front of me. “Bridget?”

  “We were just chatting,” I agreed, and Officer Leonard threw me another blast of his warm, trustworthy smile.

  “Okay then.” Oz readjusted his baseball cap. “Do you have any questions you would like to put to my charge, Officer?”

  “Not just now, Officer.” Leonard turned back to me and with an incline of his head he and David disappeared in a poof of smoke.

  Sabrina coughed and wafted the smoke away from her face. “How come there’s no smoke when I disappear?”

  “Because you’re not a self-important ass with delusions of grandeur,” Oz mumbled.

  “The GBs are an integral part of retaining order in our society,” Eleanor chirped. “Their existence is necessary in preventing rogue individuals from terrorising the living and mediums from summoning the newly deceased on the whim of their families. Without Ghosting Busters, it would be chaos.”

  Sabrina giggled, and that was when I was certain she was drunk. “You sound like an advertisement for them.”

  “We all have our roles to play in society.” Eleanor yanked on the hem of her blouse to adjust it. “Our GA meeting tomorrow will most likely be cancelled, but if it’s going ahead I’ll let you both know.”

  I frowned at Eleanor’s back. “If that’s their job description then why are they questioning me about murders?”

  “I thought you said they weren’t questioning you.” Oz folded his arms, his t-shirt pulling slightly across his muscles. Why was that all I ever noticed? His arms, his shoulders and his dimples? He must have other good, attractive points. Though maybe it was best if I didn’t search them out. Those three were quite enough.

  “They weren’t questioning me, they were just asking.” I stared out at the milling crowd, wondering who was the murderer.

  “Bridget?” Oz’s voice gently called my attention back to him. When he had it he jerked his head in the direction of his arm. His arm that my hand was stroking down from shoulder to elbow and back up.

  “Oh.” I looked at my hand without removing it. “I was testing for weaknesses.” I gave his bicep a brief squeeze. “Very good.”

  Amusement tinted his eyes and he motioned for the glasses of punch. I pouted but handed them to him. He took a sniff and jerked his head away. “I’m assuming you didn’t know the punch was spiked.”

  “It’s spiked?” I stretched my eyes wide, my mouth forming an “o”. “Who would do such a thing?”

  ∞

  Alex slapped the assignments clipboard loudly on the counter and turned his back when he saw me approach. The sound echoed around my head, clanging on the sides of my skull. I’d never had a hangover like this in my life. I could barely see. Oz’s smug smile when he brought me a cup of tea this morning hadn’t helped. The tea had, though.

  “Alex, I’m sorry about Bertha,” I managed, picking up my clipboard.

  “It should’ve been you. Whoever killed her was obviously after you.” He jabbed his finger right in my face. “It should’ve been you. No one would even miss you.”

  “I would,” Sabrina said as she walked up behind me. “And I suggest you work on your attitude, young man, or I’ll be forced to make a formal complaint against you. I’ll let it slide this time because you’re obviously grieving, but this will be your only warning.” She turned to me. “Shall we?” Sabrina guided me away from the desk as he glowered after us.

  I pulled her back by her arm to slow her pace as we wandered along one of the many beige halls of the bureau. The speed was making me dizzy. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but I thought we were meeting up at lunch?”

  “Good news. Sort of. There’ve been some more irregularities in the filing systems, so everyone in my department has the day off while they audit it. You didn’t take any notice of that idiot, did you? He’s just upset and looking for someone to blame.”

  “About what?” I asked, squinting around for the idiot she was talking about.

  Sabrina tilted my head back to look in my eyes. “How many glasses of that punch did you have?”

  “There’s a little man in my head drumming out the number on my eyeballs, but I think he keeps losing count because he won’t stop.” I covered my eyes with my hand. “But I’m fairly sure it was less than you.”

  Sabrina pulled my jaw down and shoved something in my mouth. “Chew it.” My eyes flew open but she kept her hand over my mouth “Chew it.”

  I made my jaw work trying to chew without tasting what it was. It felt like the head of a dried flower. The petals mushed against my tongue and the bitter tang trickled down my throat, making me gag. I swallowed convulsively and bent at the waist panting. “What is wrong with you?”

  Sabrina stood in front of me, hands on her hips. “Feel better?”

  I was about to say no and curse her some more when I realised my headache had gone. And the dizziness. And the indifference. Alex’s comments came rushing back and stung me like a wasp.

  “My hangover’s gone, if that’s what you mean.” I straightened up and rubbed the back of my neck. “What was that?”

  “Aged, dried rose head.” She linked her arm with mine and pulled me back into motion. “Cures a number of dead ailments. Apparently.”

  “How do you know that?”

  She pointed to herself. “Private investigator.”

  I was about to ask where she’d gotten it from, but then that would have made me an accessory to yet another crime. And yes, I was positive she’d obtained them illegally. I figured it was best to leave it alone.

  “Alex had a point. It does feel a bit like Bertha’s death was my fault,” I said, as much as I didn’t want to admit it.

  “Even if Bertha was killed by mistake and they were really after you, that’s not your fault. That’s still the fault of whoever murdered her.” Sabrina draped an arm around my shoulders to give me a hug. “And you’ve got me with you all day today.”

  “Did you say there’s another problem with the filing?” I asked, her last comment fully registering now my foggy brain had cleared. “Someone get their alphabet mixed up again?”

  “It’s serious business, y’know?” Sabrina chided. “It might just look like filing to everybody else but it’s massively important. These files are extremely detailed.”

  “I remember you creeping me out when you explained before.”

  “Yeah, well, everything is in there.” Sabrina lowered her voice as two grey jumpsuited facilitators passed us. “How you died, what your job was, skill sets, who survived you, what they’re doing, if they’re going to mediums to try to contact you or if they’re moving on.” Sabrina shrugged. “Anything that’s remotely relevant to your life here, and even some stuff that isn’t, goes into the file, so if something is misfiled there could be huge ramifications.”

  I stopped walking. “Who has access to these files?”

  “Everyone in my department.”

 
“Everyone? How many people are in your department? That doesn't seem exactly secure.”

  Sabrina hesitated. “Okay. When I said ‘everyone' I meant everyone if they were so inclined and most of them aren’t. Actually, all of them aren’t.”

  “You have to do something sneaky to access these files, don't you?”

  “I prefer the term ‘covert’.”

  “I'm sure you do,” I mumbled. “But only people in your department have access?"

  Sabrina nodded. “Anyone else would have to request them, and copies of those requests go in the file too. Why? Did I just see a light bulb pop up above your head?”

  “Maybe. Remember me telling you about the girl Jeremy was speaking to? The one who he claimed was on the phone?”

  “Uh-huh …”

  “They were talking about an arrangement. What if she’s feeding him information from those files? To make his shows more believable?”

  “A ghost in cahoots with a medium, risking who knows how long in an isolated prison somewhere? How did you make that leap?” Sabrina’s expression said if I could explain it, she might buy it.

  “Okay. First, I’m sure the girl he’s dealing with is a ghost because I recognised her voice last night, and she must know me, or be aware of me at least, to have given him my name. Second, both times I heard them, they were talking about ‘their arrangement’, and he needs more than just the one or two occasional messages through authorised channels to make a show. Remember he asked me to snoop on the audience when they came in to get his info that way?”

  “Look at you. Deducing like a pro. I think we should have roses for breakfast every morning.” Sabrina grinned proudly and patted me on the back while I gagged at the thought.

  “Okay, the simplest way to validate this theory would be to check the audience list for any relatives of the two people whose files were mixed up a couple of days ago. Don’t suppose you managed to get their names, did you? ”

  Sabrina arched an eyebrow at me. “I’m not an amateur. So you think this girl works in my department?”

  “Yeah, I do. But I can’t shake the feeling she’s familiar for another reason as well.” Every time I tried to grasp it, it slithered just a little further out of my reach.

  “You think you’d recognise her voice again?” Sabrina asked and I nodded. “Okay, at lunch, we’ll eavesdrop on my colleagues.”

  “But I don’t understand why she would do it.” I frowned. “What’s in it for her?”

  Sabrina answered with no hesitation. “Money.”

  “Have you seen even a hint of money since you got here?”

  “For her loved ones.” Sabrina glanced over my shoulder at the assignment list. “Plan of action for today. Watch the outcome of several assignments, find a way to access the scumbag’s audience list and eavesdrop on colleagues.”

  “Don’t forget we have to go and see Barry at some point,” I reminded her, though I wasn’t particularly sure how we were going to do it.

  “Right.” Sabrina blew out a breath. “Guess it’s a good job I got the day off.”

  ∞

  “Maybe this one isn’t going to have an instantaneous reaction either,” Sabrina observed, once again scanning the empty coffee shop for anything interesting.

  So far we’d completed three assignments. I’d moved an elderly lady’s glasses three times and she’d not noticed, I’d made two small tears in an envelope lying on someone’s doormat and I’d unzipped a boy’s school bag while he stood at the bus stop.

  This time, I’d moved the metal jug from the edge of the counter to the centre, and so far there had been no consequences. Neither barista had even noticed it had moved.

  I jabbed a frustrated finger in the direction of the counter. “So what’s the point in moving something if nothing happens as a result and no one notices it’s been moved?” I was beginning to think that ninety-nine per cent of my assignments were filler to hide the one per cent that were killer.

  “Who knows?” Sabrina shook her head. “There must be a reason, though.”

  “Are you ready to try the next one?” I was already feeling crestfallen. It wasn’t as if I was hoping my assignments would have massive effects on people’s lives, but I did want my job to have meaning. And preferably not homicidal meaning.

  “Let’s give it another ten minutes.” Sabrina adjusted herself on the hard wooden chairs, trying to get a little more comfy.

  “Okay.” I rested my chin on my palm and watched the lack of activity.

  Within minutes the coffee shop went from empty to having a queue of customers reaching to the door. The guy took the orders and dealt with the food while the girl made the drinks. They worked in sync, easily keeping up with the demand. Then, as quickly as they’d come, the mass of customers were served and gone. There were only three people left in the queue when there was a very subtle shift in the atmosphere. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention.

  I turned to Sabrina. “Did you feel that?”

  She shivered. “Yeah. Something’s going to happen.”

  We waited and watched. A guy at the rear of the queue said something to the girl making the drinks. I couldn’t quite catch it over the hiss of the steamer but she turned and smiled. Her co-worker frowned at them and roughly moved the same metal jug I had to the end of the counter to get to the toaster, sloshing some milk out on to the floor without noticing.

  “Here it comes.” Sabrina reached for my hand as we watched.

  Time slowed. The co-worker removed the toasted sandwich, cut it, put it on a plate and stepped right into the spilled milk. He slipped, letting go of the plate and windmilling his arms to regain his balance. The plate flew over his head and sailed through the air towards his colleague. He shouted. The girl turned to look. The rim of the plate cracked the girl on the bridge of her nose. A stomach churning crunch shuddered around the coffee shop. The plate hit the floor with a smash that signalled the end of the slow-mo time lapse.

  A gurgled scream from the girl broke the stunned stillness. Blood streamed from her nose, running down over her lips and chin and dripping onto her white shirt.

  The guy in the queue who had spoken to her rushed around the counter, dodging the milk and the other employee. He mumbled calming words to her as he led her out from behind the service area.

  “I’m taking her to A & E,” the customer shouted over his shoulder and was out the front door before anyone could protest.

  “Thoughts?” I turned to Sabrina while the stunned guy served the last two customers and started clearing up the mess.

  Sabrina shrugged. “She didn’t die.”

  “She took a flying plate to the face. It’s hardly a positive outcome.”

  “How do you know?” she asked calmly.

  “How do I know a broken nose isn’t a positive outcome?” I gave her a flat stare. “Are you actually asking me that?”

  Sabina calmly folded her arms and leaned on the table. “You’re not looking at the bigger picture.”

  “No, I’m looking at the little pools of her blood.” I pointed to several large drops on the terracotta tiled floor next to us. “Because I moved a jug of milk.”

  “Look.” Sabrina reached her hands out to me. “There’s no point crying over—”

  “Don’t even finish that sentence.”

  “Okay.” Sabrina smiled and held up her hands in surrender. “But that guy who took her to the hospital? He’d obviously had a crush on her for a while but hadn’t worked up the courage to ask her out. Body language, he complimented her and he ordered tea,” she explained, seeing my dubious expression. “This is a coffee shop.”

  “Of course, he could be a serial killer who was stalking her and is chopping her up into tiny pieces as we speak,” I countered.

  “You’re quite the negative Miss this morning,” Sabrina chided. “They’ll be dating by the end of the month.”

  “That’s if they don’t crash and burn to death in a ten car pile-up on the way to the hospital,
” I grumbled, and she laughed at me.

  “Shut up. Let’s do the next assignment,” Sabrina said, then paused and turned to me. “It has nothing to do with traffic, right?”

  ∞

  “I’m shattered,” Sabrina declared as we sat down with our lunch. “Who knew your job was so tiring?”

  “Me.” I took a sip of my tea. “Though I think today was more so than normal because after waiting to see the outcome of a few assignments we had to rush through the rest.”

  “I know when you say you ‘waited to see the outcome of a few assignments’ you don’t really mean that you waited to see the outcome of a few assignments.” Pete joined us and almost immediately started devouring his burger and chips. “And I’m certain you didn’t take Little Miss Giggles here with you on those assignments.”

  “Of course she didn’t do either of those things,” Sabrina snapped. “However, talking hypothetically now, if she had, what would be the problem with that?”

  Pete paused mid bite and set his burger back down with a sigh. When he stopped eating, you knew it was bad. “What did Fenton actually teach you?”

  “Well, he taught me …” I let the sentence trail off while I tried to remember anything useful at all. “Oh! He taught me not to modify the assignments.”

  Pete stared at me. “So he taught you nothing. Okay. You can’t stay to watch the outcome of your assignments because not all consequences are immediate, and even if they are there can still be much longer lasting implications that you can’t know about.”

  Sabrina nudged me. “Like the girl with the plate.”

  Pete looked pointedly at Sabrina. “I didn’t hear that. But you can never truly know the full consequences of your actions, and seeing only the immediate outcome might have a detrimental effect on the way you do your job. That’s why we have so many to get through in a certain timeframe, so we’re not tempted to watch. And you can’t take ride-alongs to complete your assignments because they’re supposed to be confidential.”

 

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