“Seriously?” I asked, aghast at the mental picture her words painted in my mind.
“Yep,” she said. “Damned idiot killed himself.”
Beside me, Beau tapped his ear and pointed at my headset. He catches on quick.
“Oh, dang, Sally,” I lied, “excuse me. I’m getting a call.” I tapped the headset. “Hi . . . oh, I’m sorry, Tori . . . I’ll be right back over. Hang on just a sec.”
I looked at Sally and mouthed, “Sorry!”
She waved her hand in a shooing motion and said, “Go on, sugar. See you again real soon.”
Still engaging in my fake conversation, I stepped out of the office with Beau. We walked a little ways down the hall. “Where is he?” I whispered.
“He and his associates are in an empty office on the second floor,” the Colonel said. “They are quite frustrated by their inability to move objects in the physical world.”
“But you told me McAlpin knocked everything off the current mayor’s desk,” I said. “How did he do that if he can't move objects?”
“That was an act of rage,” Beau said. “The force of his anger accomplished that feat. His current goal is to examine records contained in file cabinets. That Mr. McAlpin cannot do, and he is quite annoyed.”
“I’ll bet,” I said. “Okay. Show me.”
Most of the functional offices of the Briar Hollow city and county government are contained on the first floor of the courthouse. The second floor harkens back to the days when the little town was more prosperous and in need of more political office space.
Beau’s search tracked Mayor McAlpin and the spectral councilmen to a deserted corner office. When I turned the doorknob, my luck held. It was unlocked. Three mostly transparent heads swiveled when I stepped inside. The trio looked decidedly guilty until they recognized me.
"Oh," McAlpin said, "it's just you. What are you doing here?"
Minimize a girl, much?
“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, “and what the heck are you doing here?”
McAlpin’s form rippled as if he was trying to stand up straighter. “I am an elected official,” he said. “I belong here.”
“You’re a dead elected official, Howard,” I pointed out. “You belong back . . .”
Back where? I had no intention of hazarding a guess about where politicians go when they die.
“Back wherever you’ve been since you killed yourself with a swordfish,” I finished.
McAlpin’s brow furrowed. “What are you babbling about, young woman?” he said. “I most certainly did not kill myself.”
“Maybe not intentionally,” I conceded, “but according to Sally Martin, you tripped at your desk and stabbed yourself in the heart with a swordfish trophy.”
Both of the councilmen looked like they wanted to laugh, but didn’t dare.
Howard bristled, sending an indignant ripple through his amorphous body. “Sally Martin doesn’t have sense enough to pour . . .”
I stopped him mid-insult.
“Howard,” I warned, “mind your manners.”
McAlpin shot me a smirk. “Great,” he said, “another thin-skinned woman with no sense of humor. Just what I need.”
Great. Another egotistical narcissist. Just what I needed.
“Look,” I said, “you can deny it all you want, but you were still found dead at your desk with a fishing trophy sticking out of your heart.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he barked.
“I would tend to agree,” I said sarcastically.
“I meant,” he said, “that I kept that trophy pointed off to the side of my desk. There is no way I could have fallen forward and stabbed myself. I knew there was something suspicious about this whole death business. It was not in my five-year action plan. I must have been murdered.”
Now tell me the truth, people. Does anybody put dying in their “five-year action plan?”
“Accidents happen, Howard,” I said. “Death has a nasty habit of being a surprise.”
“Not for me, it doesn’t,” he growled. “If I died like that, I was murdered, and I do not have the slightest intention of going anywhere until I find out who did it.”
Not the answer I was looking for.
8
Issuing that ultimatum took every ounce of energy Howard had — literally. He stood in front of me flickering in and out like a dying fluorescent light bulb. For that matter, the councilmen weren’t looking all that great either. The two men weren’t impersonating strobe lights, but they were considerably fainter than when I’d entered the room.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Howard demanded. The words came out like a static-filled radio broadcast.
“You have used all your available resources for the present,” Beau explained, floating up beside me. “It will be a number of hours before your coherence reasserts itself.”
“I don’t see you blinking in and out,” Howard crackled indignantly.
“Nor do you see me wasting my energy in useless tirades against the quite evident reality of my own demise,” Beau observed mildly.
McAlpin glared at him, or at least he tried to glare. The effect was lost as his form grew more unstable. “Don’t just stand there,” he demanded, “plug me in or something.”
The instant he said it, the image on a dying iPhone throwing a temper tantrum popped into my head. I couldn’t keep from giggling, which only made McAlpin angrier.
“No can do, Howie,” I said cheerfully. “See you later when your battery recharges.”
Before he could reply, the late mayor blinked out entirely.
Turning to the Colonel, I asked, “How long before we have to deal with him again?”
“I do not image you will see His Honor the Mayor again until nightfall,” Beau said, looking as relieved as I felt.
From across the room one of the councilmen cleared his throat. “Uh,” he said tentatively, “what about us?”
“I hate to be the one to say it, guys, but you’re fading fast,” I pointed out.
“Where will we go?” the man asked fearfully.
That was a question for Beau, who picked the ball up right on cue.
“Do not concern yourself, sir,” he said. “The sensation you will experience is very akin to being asleep. You will return later as well.”
It didn’t seem right to just leave and let the two men fade out alone since they were both clearly afraid, so I decided to get as much information out of them as I could while they were still visible.
“Do you gentlemen have names?” I asked.
“I’m Eldon,” the first man said, “and he’s Marty.”
“Does your boss always behave like that?” I asked, gesturing toward the blank space where McAlpin had been standing.
“Pretty much,” Eldon admitted. “By the way, you probably shouldn’t call him Howie. That’s what his mother called him and he doesn’t like it.”
So the Mayor had Mommy issues. Color me shocked.
“Noted,” I said. “So what’s your take on this murder theory of his? Did anybody dislike Howard enough to kill him?”
Marty laughed. “Pretty much everyone in town,” he said.
Great.
“If everybody hated him,” I said, “how did he get elected?”
The two men looked like I’d just tied them to straight chairs under the glare of a naked light bulb.
“For God’s sake,” I said, in exasperation, “you're already dead. What in the world do you think can happen to you if you tell me?”
“We’ll have to listen to Howard for eternity,” Eldon said instantly.
Okay. He had a point there.
I tried coming at my question from a different angle. “How long was Howard mayor?”
“Three-and-a-half terms,” Marty said.
“The ‘half’ is because he died in office?” I asked.
“Oh,” Marty said, frowning. “I forgot about that. I guess it was three and two halves.”
How I kept a straight face whe
n I asked the next question, I do not know. “So, Marty, what did you do as city councilman?”
“I was in charge of auditing the city’s finances,” he said proudly.
Before I could answer, both men were gone. Beau and I stood there a minute and then we both burst out laughing. The Colonel actually slapped his knee.
“I see that politicians have changed little since I was alive,” he said, chuckling.
“Oh,” I said, wiping my eyes, “we have much worse than Marty there. Let me tell you about this woman who was the governor of Alaska.
”Alaska is a state?” Beau said, his eyes widening. “I fear I am quite behind the times.”
“You have a good excuse,” I said, smiling.
We went back downstairs and exited the building. As I waited to cross the street, I said, “So when those guys pop back in, where will they be?”
“I can’t say for certain,” Beau admitted. “They may return to the cemetery or they could reappear in the courthouse.”
“Well,” I said, “at least we don’t have to worry about Howard pulling any more stunts for a few hours. That’s something. Are you going to hang around the store with us today?”
The question seemed to catch Beau off guard.
“Are you okay?” I asked with sudden concern. “You’re not getting ready to blink out, too, are you?”
The old soldier regained his composure. “No,” he said. “Even though I am far from my marker, I feel quite strong. It has just been a long time since I enjoyed freedom of movement or the engagement of a living companion. If I will not be underfoot, I think I would very much like to stay near you and Miss Tori today.”
I might have other ghostly problems, but Colonel Longworth wasn’t one of them. In my brief moment of panic, I realized I wanted the old man hovering — literally — in the background all the time. To use an old-fashioned word, the Colonel is stalwart. Until you’ve had a dose of that in your life, you may not get what I mean, but in the short time I’d known him, I had come to the instinctual understanding that Beau Longworth would always have my back.
“I’m glad you’re here in town with us, Beau,” I said, and I genuinely meant it.
The Colonel blinked a couple of times and then a slow smile spread over his face. “Young lady,” he said, “that is the nicest thing anyone has said to me in more than a century. You see, although I do not like to dwell on it, there are aspects of being deceased that are, admittedly, rather lonely.”
See? Understatement much?
We crossed the street and walked into my shop. I had to resist the urge to hold the door open long enough for Beau to pass. It’s hard to get used to someone who can just serenely move straight through walls. To my surprise and pleasure, I spotted Chase McGregor standing in the back talking to my contractor.
Chase was wearing what I had come to regard as his work “uniform;” a long leather apron over a plaid shirt, softly worn jeans, and black boots he makes himself. He’s not a big man, only standing about 6 feet, but he’s broad chested and powerfully built. Add blue eyes and perpetually tousled dark hair to the picture and it makes for one heck of a view.
“Well, hello there,” I said, going over to join them. “Don’t you have a store to run?”
I blushed a little when Chase leaned down and gave me a light kiss, but it was a happy blush.
“Festus is manning the place for a few minutes,” he said. “Mark called me over to show me what needs to get done this weekend.”
Two explanations. Festus is Chase’s lame ginger tomcat who spends most of his time in warm weather sprawled on the bench in front of the cobbler shop. In the winter, Festus switches to the bench just inside the front door in a direct line with the heating vent. He’s a real innovator, that cat.
As for the weekend work, Chase helps Mark out from time to time with finishing details. Apparently over the next couple of days, I would have a handsome man in my shop installing the baseboards in Tori’s apartment and helping to get her new furniture in place.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Colonel Longworth giving Chase the once over. “Is this your young man?” Beau asked, sounding very much like my father. Just to give you a visual on that reference, Dad was sitting at the kitchen table cleaning his shotguns the first time a boy came to pick me up.
Beau knew perfectly well that I was in no position to answer him at the moment, so he was free to continue his observations uninterrupted. “He’s a comely fellow,” the Colonel mused, “and gainfully employed, which certainly speaks in his favor. May I inquire as to his age, please?”
Doing my best to ignore my Confederate chaperone, I answered Chase. “Well, as long as Festus is in charge, all is well. What’s the plan for the weekend work?”
Both men turned toward the construction in progress in the corner of the shop and launched into a discussion about the needed plumbing, which gave me a chance to mouth “stop it” to Beau.
The Colonel smiled at me beatifically. “I am merely looking out for your best interests, Miss Jinx,” he said. “I assume that Mr. McGregor is from good people?”
Oh for God’s sake. There it was. The Southern preoccupation with “your people.”
“We will talk about this later,” I hissed.
Mark and Chase both turned toward me with shocked expressions. “I thought you wanted to talk about it now,” Chase said, looking confused.
“No,” I said, flustered. “I mean . . . yes, I do . . . want to discuss it. I wasn’t talking to you. Sorry, I was just . . . thinking out loud.”
Chase gave me a strange look and then stared straight past me toward Colonel Longworth, furrowing his brow and squinting his eyes a little. “Is there smoke in here?” he asked.
Mark sniffed the air. “I don’t smell anything burning,” he said, sounding alarmed. “We haven’t been doing any wiring today.”
“It’s just dust,” I said quickly. “You guy’s stirred up about 40 years’ worth when you moved those cabinets, and you have been cutting through the walls to put those pipes in.”
Both men seemed to find my hurried explanations acceptable. They resumed their discussion. I caught Beau’s eye, pointed to the storeroom and mouthed, “In there. Now!”
Still smiling, the Colonel said, “As you wish,” and floated away completely unperturbed.
When Chase and Mark were finished talking, I went to the door with Chase. “I’m sorry I’m so scatterbrained today,” I apologized. “I couldn’t sleep last night. I guess I’m kind of out of it.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “Everybody has an off day.” He hesitated. “Have you done something different in here?”
It was my turn to frown. “Other than moving the cabinets, no. Why?”
Chase shook his head. “I don’t know, something just seems different in the store. While I was talking to Mark I kept thinking I saw something out of the corner of my eye.”
Uh-oh
“Like what?” I asked innocently.
“I’m not sure,” he said, shaking his head. “Just my eyes playing tricks on me I guess.”
Yeah, or a helpful brownie forgetting to do his invisibility cloak thing.
After Chase left, I went into the storeroom and found Colonel Longworth actually sitting in the armchair with his long, boot-encased legs crossed, chatting with Tori and Rodney, who was sitting on her shoulder.
“What was that whole Father Knows Best thing you were doing out there, Beau?” I demanded.
That was a total waste of a vintage TV reference.
“Fathers do know what is best for their daughters,” he said, nonplussed.
“Whatever,” I said, “but I’m kind of past grown.”
“You are unmarried,” he said, as if that explained everything.
Talk about Clash of the Centuries. I decided to just let it go, because frankly, the old guy was being kind of sweet, I just wasn’t willing to admit that. I had another, more pressing question.
“What the heck happened out there
anyway,” I said. “Do you think Chase saw you?”
“Miss Tori and I were just discussing that very thing,” Beau said. “She has a theory.”
I plopped down beside Tori on the loveseat and reached up to scratch Rodney’s nose as he scampered onto my shoulder.
“Let’s hear it,” I said.
After the day I was having, I didn’t think anything could surprise me, but I have to hand it to my girl, Tori. She never disappoints.
9
“You think Myrtle is an amplifier?” I asked, frowning.
“Yeah,” Tori said, drawing her legs up under her so she was sitting in something akin to the lotus pose. “I think Colonel Longworth is getting some extra juice from her or something. That’s why Chase could kind of make out his outline.”
“And how did you come to this conclusion?” I asked.
Without prompting, Beau leaned forward and gingerly picked a magazine up from the makeshift coffee table. Even though he was obviously out of practice manipulating objects, the copy of People was resting between the thumb and forefinger of his pale right hand.
Pale.
Not transparent.
For the first time since I’d met him in the cemetery, I couldn’t see through Beau.
“Wow,” I said. “That’s a big change.”
“An apt observation,” Beau agreed mildly.
“I probably don’t have to tell you this,” I said to him, “but if Tori is right about this, you need to be careful where you stand.”
Beau inclined his head in agreement. “We are ahead of your conclusions in that regard,” he said. “The sunlight seems to have served to create something of a halo around my form. I will keep to the shadows when others are present.”
See what I mean? Fatherly inquisitions notwithstanding, Beau wasn’t going to be a problem. In fact, by the time I get finished telling you this story, you’ll see that he proved himself to be exactly the opposite.
“Did you tell Tori what happened at the courthouse?” I asked him.
“I was just recounting the financial abilities of Councilman Eldon when you came in,” Beau grinned.
Witch at Odds: A Jinx Hamilton Mystery Book 2 (The Jinx Hamilton Mysteries) Page 6