by Iris Kincaid
“That remains to be seen. But what do you want to know?”
“I’m wondering if your mother, her spirit, has ever spoken to you or made her spirit known to anyone, or cast influence on anyone?”
“Why don’t you ask me yourself?” Arabella asked.
Ruby gasped. Arabella was clearly not a living creature, and at the same time, had clearly visible features that bore an unmistakable resemblance to Max.
“You look just like your son . . . Ma’am.”
Max noticed her agitated distraction. “Are you speaking to Lilith?”
“I’m speaking to Arabella. She’s right here, Max. And I don’t think that it’s the first time that she’s come to see you. Is it?”
“Of course not. I have watched over him these past thirty years. My darling Max. How I have longed to speak to him. You. You are not entirely to be trusted, being under the influence of Lilith Hazelwood as you are. But I will speak with you in exchange for the relay of my messages to Maximilian. Agreed?”
“Of course. Agreed. Okay, so . . . I know that your and Lilith’s families were long-term enemies. And Lilith was under the impression that you were going to kill her before she defended herself by killing you preemptively. Not saying that was right, incidentally. Just starting from what I know. Were you? About to kill her?”
“For my son, I would do anything. I did do everything. I sacrificed everything. She would not have killed him. The dark arts would not have permitted it. He was an innocent. But she could have controlled him, cursed him, ruined his life. All to punish me. I wouldn’t risk it. I would not gamble with my son’s future and happiness.
“Lilith had to be eliminated. And yes, I did suspect that she would murder me at the first opportunity. Even so, I took the risk to protect my son, to make him a Protected One. Even though casting the spell weakened me. Even though it was my weakened state that allowed her to strike the final blow. I cannot regret it. My son is protected for life. And for that, my life was the price.”
“I don’t think that I’ve heard that story. He doesn’t know, does he? He knows that he is protected, but he doesn’t know the casting of the spell weakened you.”
“I don’t need him to carry that guilt.”
“He was a child and had no say in the matter. I don’t think he would carry the guilt. I think he would treasure your devotion.”
“What a strange vessel you are for Lilith Hazelwood’s mission—so unlike her.”
“Did you have anything to do with her death? Did you . . . influence anyone to kill her?”
Arabella smiled. “Who had better reason than I? Would it not be called just vengeance?”
“Ma’am . . . I really am going to need a yes or no.”
“I made efforts. Continually. I thought they had come to nothing. Perhaps one of them proved fruitful. I cannot say one way or the other. But, it would give me great comfort to think that I had something to do with her death. And now . . . for your end of the bargain.”
Ruby knew that Lilith would never be satisfied with this ambiguous confession. But if Arabella was guilty, even she couldn’t say for sure.
Max was overjoyed to finally hear the mother’s love that he had only imagined hovering over him since her death thirty years earlier. She complimented him on the good work he did in his classroom. And she even gave his marriage to Lorna her blessing, despite her reservations about anyone associated with Lilith Hazelwood. Lorna’s soul was her own. It was only her face and her beauty that could be traced to Lilith—and her powers, which Lorna used as compassionately as Lilith had used them selfishly.
And though Arabella protested, Ruby insisted on telling Max about the true circumstances of his mother’s sacrifice and death. It was a heartbreaking gift, and he thanked her profusely for it.
Lilith being Lilith could only take so much of this heartwarming scene. She and Arabella were on slightly different planes of existence, which limited their ability to confront one another, which was just as well. It was time to move on to other suspects. Lilith wanted to dive into this murder hunt full-steam ahead. With no distractions. She wanted the full and undivided attention of her new protégé. But the dead witch was to learn what the live witch had never had to accept—much of life in Oyster Cove was now beyond her control.
Walking down the boardwalk, there was a buzz of bad news in the air. There had been another murder. For a town its size, Oyster Cove had more than its share of murders in recent years. And by chance, or not, most of the murder victims had been rather unpleasant people who had been engaged in all kinds of wrongdoing prior to their own demise. The saying had even arisen that everyone who dies in Oyster Cove deserves it.
But today, that saying got turned on its ear. The murder victim was Sam Singleton, a jolly, well-liked mailman who had been delivering mail in Oyster Cove for over twenty-five years. Ruby, in fact, had been on his route, and they had often exchanged greetings and pleasantries. He was such a sweet guy. Who on earth would have wanted him dead? Of all the murders that had happened in their town, this was truly regarded as a sad event.
By the time Ruby reached her own apartment, she was greeted by the very familiar sight of Officer Finn Cochran, Margo Bailey’s husband and a man quite familiar with the transplant witch population.
“Ruby. You look great. You put such a scare in all of us. You really did. Don’t you ever do that to Margo again. Oh, who am I kidding? You had me bawling too.” He gave her a big hug.
Finn was a man who rarely showed his softer side, but it felt wonderful to know that she meant so much to her friends.
“I have to apologize, but I’m actually here on business. Police business. You heard about Sam Singleton?”
“Of course I did. That poor, poor man. I’ve known him for so many years, and he was the nicest guy. What horrible person would even think of killing him?”
“That is precisely what we need to find out. Margo tells me that you can see ghosts. That you can speak to them. Is that right?”
“Unfortunately, yes, that appears to be my new thing.”
“So, what do you say we go down to the morgue and you have a little chat with the late Mr. Singleton? See if he could provide any insight into who killed him.”
“Okay. Wow, this is going to be creepy. How did he die, by the way?”
“Dimethylmercury. It’s a very slow-acting poison. It’s lethal, for sure. But it takes a long time to do its damage. It could’ve been given to him months ago. Quite probably, through his food.”
“That sounds like it could be really difficult to pin down exactly where and when it happened.”
“That’s why I need a witch.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“And just where do you think you’re going?” Lilith barked.
“Sam Singleton, our mailman, was killed. Poisoned. And so, my friend Finn has asked me to speak to the deceased and see if they can wrap up the murder investigation as quickly as possible,” Ruby explained.
“This has nothing to do with us. It is a waste of precious time.”
“Well, the man was murdered, and he does deserve some justice. You, of all people, should understand that, right? And it won’t take much time at all. I’ll just ask the man who killed him. There would be so few unsolved murders if they could just ask the victim, don’t you think? But, seriously, this will probably take half an hour, tops. Then we can do whatever you want us to do.”
“Get on with it. Be quick about it. Sam Singleton. Hmmph. A man of no consequence. But go on. Get it over with.”
With Lilith’s gracious permission, Ruby proceeded to enter the morgue vault with Finn Cochran. She had wondered what they would do if Sam had wandered far afield from his body, but they were in luck. He was there, moping, just as Delphine had predicted—a very anxious, unsettled ghost with unfinished business.
“Hi, Sam. I’m really so, so sorry to hear about what happened to you.”
“Ruby. Ruby Townsend. You can see me. How is it that you can see me?”
“That’s a very long story. Shorthand—I’m sort of a witch now.”
“A witch? That’s crazy. I don’t believe in witches.”
“Do you believe in ghosts?” Ruby countered.
“Right. Right. How long have you been a witch?”
“About as long as you’ve been a ghost. Sam, do you realize that you were poisoned?”
“Yeah, I heard them talking about me and saying that. That really sucks. I was only fifty-one, you know.”
“Can you tell us who did it? It was a pretty slow-acting poison, so it might have been given to you well over a month before you died. But do you have any idea who would have done it? You don’t have any enemies, do you, Sam?”
“Enemies? No, I wouldn’t say . . . hmm. Well, you can’t be liked by everyone. And you can’t live a life without making some mistakes. Maybe many mistakes. But I truly don’t have any idea who would hate me this much. I wish I knew. It feels as if I’m stuck because I don’t know. What if they never find out? That means I’ll always be stuck. I don’t know if I can stand that.”
“Of course, they’ll find out.”
Ruby turned apologetically to Finn. “He doesn’t know. Especially because of how it happened. It would be so much easier if we could pinpoint the day it happened, or even the week it happened. Poison’s a hard one, I guess. If someone had stabbed him or shot him, he’d know exactly who. But you said before that it was probably something that he ate. How do you pin down a meal over such a long period of time?”
“Did he ever eat a meal with any of the customers on his postal route?”
Sam could hear Finn just fine. “Yes, of course I did. They were just the friendliest people you’d ever want to meet. They would always save some of their baked goods for me or invite me in for a cup of coffee. Some lemonade. Give me some vegetables from the garden. Fill up a little container of homemade soup for me to add to my lunch. I almost never had to eat a meal at home because the people on my route fed me so well.”
“He got a lot of free food,” Ruby informed Finn.
“And did he ever go inside anyone’s house?” Finn asked.
“Well, that’s very hard to say,” Sam said, almost nervously. “I . . . I can’t go into any great detail. Maybe once or twice, here or there. It’s hard to say.”
“Really? You can’t remember going into a person’s house?” Ruby asked suspiciously. “And Sam, what did you mean when you said that you had made mistakes? What kind of mistakes? It really might have a bearing on who killed you.”
Sam hesitated a long moment. “I’ve lost my life. My reputation still means something to me. We’re all entitled to our privacy, aren’t we? We’re all entitled to take some things to the grave, aren’t we?”
“He says that he’s done some things that he’s not proud of, but he doesn’t want to talk about them,” Ruby said. “I’m afraid this is a dead end.” She flinched apologetically in Sam’s direction. “No pun intended.”
“I appreciate the effort,” Finn said. “Now I’m wondering if you’re willing to go the extra mile. I had really hoped that Erin Sweeney was going to be around. A mind reader comes in very handy, let me tell you. But someone who can talk to the dead—that’s a pretty awesome talent as well. Seeing as how Sam was a friendly acquaintance of yours, I’m sure you’d want to see his murderer caught.”
“Of course, I do.”
“How about you stick with me, then? Go on the rounds with me? See what we can find out.”
“Of course. I don’t know if I can really be of any help but I’ll do whatever I can.”
At that moment, they were interrupted by the entrance of Sam Singleton’s widow, Mercedes Singleton. She was in her late forties and in an obvious and understandable state of distress.
“Mrs. Singleton, I thought that I might run into you here,” Finn said. “This is my associate, Ruby Townsend. Ruby, this is Sam’s widow, Mercedes Singleton.”
“Mrs. Singleton. I’m so sorry for your loss. Sam was a great guy. I was one of the customers on his route.”
“He was wonderful, wasn’t he? We were married for twenty-one years. I was sure that we would make it to fifty. That’s such a wonderful anniversary to celebrate, isn’t it?” She began to sob.
“We’ll just leave you so that you can spend some time alone with him,” Finn said. “I’ll call you and we’ll work out some time to talk soon.”
Outside, Ruby asked what he needed to talk to Mercedes about.
“Right this moment, Mercedes Singleton is our Star murder suspect. The spouse always is. But that’s just a starting point. We’re going to conduct a full, thorough investigation. In fact, I’ve got a lot of calls to make and meetings to set up. But you’re in, right?”
“I’m in.”
“I’ll give you a call tonight.”
As she watched Finn return to his car, Ruby could practically feel Lilith’s breath on her neck.
“We agreed on half an hour for this nonsensical diversion. And yet you now promise him the moon. My justice has been delayed by years, and I will not allow his to take precedence over mine. He did not save your life. You do not live and breathe and think because of Sam Singleton but because of me.”
“I won’t neglect your murder, Lilith. But I don’t think it has to be either-or. You said that our combined brains are stronger. I don’t see why we can’t solve both of these murders. Both of you deserve justice. And you need never worry that I’m going to neglect my promise to you. I wouldn’t.”
“And I will hold you to it. Very well then. You take my direction and follow my plan of uncovering my killer. And I will tolerate the commoners’ investigation. Perhaps I will even give you a hand—if only to get it out of the way.”
It wasn’t the most charitable of bargains, but it was one that Ruby could live with. They each agreed to help the other solve both of these murders. There are just some partnerships in life that you could never see coming in a million years.
*****
In a rare moment when no demands were being made on her time, Ruby was able to drop in a diner to get a bite to eat, and then she was dashing across Central Park to get to the post office, where she was supposed to meet Finn and speak with some of Sam Singleton’s coworkers. Then, who should she see along the way but Griffin Wynter, the most eligible bachelor within a 500-mile radius.
Normally, young women who chanced upon Griffin would spend their time wondering whether he looked more like George Clooney, Antonia Banderas, or a very young Paul Newman. It’s a pretty wide range of prototypes, but whatever you found good-looking, he invariably fit the bill. But Ruby was not at all fixated on the man’s striking facial features or well-built physique. She was far more taken by the sight of the ghost hovering beside him.
Although Griffin didn’t have Ruby’s talent for ghost conversations, that didn’t stop this ghost one bit. He railed away at Griffin as Ruby listened in amazement.
“I told you not to pay this demo crew so much. And what’s up with all the overtime? There’s ways to get out of that. Didn’t I teach you anything? If your brother weren’t such a good for nothing . . . but you’re all I’ve got, really. Till Brooke comes of age. And who knows what kind of artsy-fartsy nonsense she’ll be into?
“No. This is all on your shoulders, and I don’t think you fully appreciate your good fortune, do you?”
What an irritating bully of a ghost. It was Melvin Wynter, founder of the Wynter Empire, nine months deceased and nowhere near as good-looking as his son. Griffin must have taken after his mother.
Ruby addressed the ghost. “Give it a rest. You’re dead. He has to make his own decisions now. And he can’t hear you the way I can.”
The ghost was shocked into silence.
But the fact was that Griffin was carrying out his father’s plans with blatant disregard for the future of the wellbeing of Oyster Cove’s citizens. Well, Ruby wasn’t havin’ it.
“Excuse me. Ruby Townsend. Yes, I know who you are, Mr.
Wynter. I just need to have a word with you. Have you even given a moment’s thought to the consequences of the project you’re building, these luxury condos? The local, affordable apartments you’re eliminating?”
“Oh, um, my understanding is that the buildings being torn down were just absolutely in such a sad state of negligence that they really were violating every possible building code. They were a serious danger to the people who lived there. The damage was simply beyond repair,” Griffin responded, surprised but cooperative.
“But this project is going to change the town. We’ve changed a lot in the past ten or fifteen years, but always for the better. Local artists and businesses are getting a ton of customers. The mayor has directed funding toward some great support programs for lower-income families. And this town gets prettier and more colorful every time I look around. There’s so much imagination here. This isn’t some high-rise, gated, unaffordable place. It’s not the Hamptons.”
Griffin examined Ruby thoughtfully. “I think the Hamptons were once a bit like Oyster Cove.”
“That’s what worries me, what you could be turning this place into.”
“You’re not from the tabloids, are you? Are you a reporter?”
“No. Just a resident. And I had to come and give you a piece of my mind. Why did you think I was reporter?”
“I get asked for interviews a lot. Especially after that People’s Most Fascinating Bachelors issue.”
Ruby scoffed. “What is it about you that is so fascinating? Being born? Yes, I realize your family’s wealthy, but all you did to be where you are was to be born. Am I supposed to be fascinated that your father handed you all this position and power? I gotta confess—I’m not fascinated! In fact, I can think of at least eight people in this town who are more fascinating than you are. Truly fascinating. Correction. Nine more fascinating people, when I include myself. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .”
Griffin watched Ruby stride away with great interest. No one but his father had ever given him such a severe scolding. And frankly, he found it . . . fascinating.