by Nic Saint
He gave me a sheepish look. “I lied. I never buried anything. All the money I had was invested in that belt buckle.”
“What?!”
“Triple ruse,” he said, and when I gave him an angry look, he cried, “Hey, I didn’t know if I could trust you!”
“What will it take?!”
“Heck, I don’t know!”
We both looked up when a car approached, and when I saw the burgundy suburban, I broke into a smile. “I’ve got an idea.”
A flicker of hope crossed his face. “Hollie?”
“Yes.”
“But… she can’t see me. Can she?”
“She can’t,” I admitted. “But maybe I can be your go-between. Will you trust me then?”
“You mean like Whoopi Goldberg in Ghost?”
“Eww. No. I’m not going to kiss Hollie. I meant, I’ll tell her what you’re saying.”
“Fair enough,” he said, getting up from his bucket and walking through the fence. He was straightening his hair, adjusting his collar, and generally looking like a nervous teenager about to pick up his prom date. Only he was dead and his prom date very much alive.
Hollie caught sight of me and gave me a little wave. I waved back, and told Banning, “Play it cool. I might not be able to convince her this is real, or even screw up the courage to tell her about ghosts, so don’t push me, all right?”
“What are you talking about? This is my last chance to talk to her. Soon you’ll catch my killer and I’ll be gone. Poof. You have to tell her I’m here. You just have to.”
“I don’t have to do anything, and if you don’t keep cool I’m not saying a thing!”
“Don’t be like that, Alice. You’re my Whoopi now.”
“Minus the kissing.”
“Minus the kissing.”
“And the groping.”
He looked mildly offended. “I wasn’t going to grope.” Then he saw Hollie and he said, “Or maybe I was. God, she’s beautiful. Or is it just because I’m dead?”
“No, she’s very pretty,” I agreed. “You have good taste. Hi, Hollie,” I said. “So we meet again, huh?”
“I’m sorry I was so rude back at the Inn,” she said, clutching a small clutch in her left hand and her smartphone in her right. “But my husband can’t know about Banning.”
“I understand, and I’ll never tell him.”
“Thanks,” she said, giving me a small smile. She glanced around and sniffed the air. “This will always remind me of Banning.”
“The smell of duck manure?”
She nodded. “It’s hard to wash off. Some of it always clung to Banning. I never told him this, but no matter how much he showered or sprayed himself with cologne, he always smelled to duck dung.”
“But you didn’t mind.”
“No, I did not,” she said with a sigh. “This may sound strange to you but I liked Banning’s smell.”
“Tell her I’m right here,” said Banning.
“So what brings you out here?” I asked.
“One last look around, I guess,” she said. “I told Merle I was heading into town to buy some lady stuff.” She laughed. “It’s the only way to make sure he won’t tag along.”
“He’s very… protective, is he?”
“That’s putting it nicely. Merle is a difficult man to live with. He’s very demanding, and also very possessive. And jealous. If he knew I was seeing Banning, he’d—”
“Kill you?”
“No. He’s not a violent man. But he would go berserk.”
“You sound as if you’re afraid of him.”
“A little, I guess.”
“What if I told you you could have one last chance to talk to Banning? To say goodbye?”
She eyed me curiously. “Are you a psychic?”
“No, I’m not,” I said with a laugh. “Anything but, actually.” I hesitated. It’s always hard to gauge how people will react when you tell them you can talk to ghosts. And after my most recent disaster with Rock, I wasn’t too keen to repeat the experience. But Hollie was looking at me expectantly, and Banning kept darting pleading looks in my direction, so finally I said, “He’s right here, actually.”
She frowned. “Who, Banning?”
“Yes. He’s standing right next to me.”
“You’re kidding, right? Banning’s gone.”
“Not completely. He’ll be gone once we catch his killer. But until then, he’s sticking around to see what happens.”
“Tell her she looks adorable,” said Banning.
“He says you look adorable.”
“Thanks,” said Hollie with a quick frown. “I guess. Look, this is getting a little too weird for me. I think I’ll head back to the Inn.” She started to walk away.
“No!” Banning cried, and suddenly Hollie turned on her heel.
“Did you just say, ‘No?’”
“That wasn’t me,” I said. “That was Banning.”
“She can hear me?” asked Banning. “You can hear me?”
“Yes,” said Hollie hesitantly. “Yes, I can. Is that you, Banning? Where are you?”
“Right here,” he said. “I’m right here, my darling.”
Suddenly, Hollie’s eyes went wide. “Oh, my God! I can see you! Banning!”
“Hollie!”
They ran towards each other, just like in the movies, only Hollie ran straight through Banning. But after a little adjusting—on both sides—they disappeared around the corner, completely unaware of existence. I got the message. So I mounted my pink bike and started pedaling back to town, a big smile on my face. I might not have solved Banning’s murder yet, but I’d managed to reunite him with Hollie. The entire scene warmed my heart.
Chapter 27
That night, I couldn’t sleep. Again. I tossed and turned, half expecting to see the kid in the doggie mask show up again. Only this time my head was filled with thoughts and images of Banning and Hollie. They were like star-crossed lovers, even though it was a little hard to imagine Banning as Romeo. Still, that story Hollie told me about loving the man so much she even enjoyed his peculiar odor had touched a nerve. I had to finish this case. Find the killer and allow Banning to find his eternal peace. And who knows? Maybe he would find a way to be together with Hollie, if only in spirit.
I went through the whole case in my mind again, and before long, one thing stood out. That belt buckle. The buckle worth a fortune. Unless Banning had lied about that, too, of course. Even so, whoever had stolen it, believed it was worth a great deal of money. Uncle Charlie had told me to find the belt buckle and I would find the killer. So why not follow his advice? And suddenly it was pretty clear to me where to look for the thing.
I got up, and tripped over to Fee and Rick’s room. I switched on the light.
“Intruder!” Rick cried, jumping out of bed and reaching for a baseball bat. He stared at me, wild-eyed, swinging his bat and taking out his bedside lamp in one fell swoop. “It’s you!” he screamed. “It’s Alice!” he yelled for Fee’s sake.
Gaston, who’d been lounging at the foot of the bed, streaked from the room, slipping between my legs. “Yes, it’s me,” I said. “I had a brainwave. And, for your information, I’m not the intruder. I’m still fairly certain that honor is reserved for Mrs. Evergreen’s nephew.”
“Ricky,” said Fee calmly. “Please put the bat away. Gently.”
He blinked, and put down the bat. “I thought it was the intruder,” he explained.
“I know you thought it was the intruder, honey,” said Fee. “And you’re very brave. Very, very brave.” She gave me a wink. She was a very patient woman. If she and Rick ever got to grow old together—and his bat-waving skills made me doubt that they would—the guy was in for a treat.
“I think I know who did it,” I said when I finally had the floor.
“I know,” said Rick. “You just told us. Mrs. Evergreen’s nephew.”
“Not that,” I said. “The murder. I think I know who murdered Banning.”
<
br /> “Who?” asked Fee, gently taking the bat from Rick and placing it under the bed where he couldn’t reach it.
“I’m not sure. That’s why I need you to come with me. If it is who I think it is, I can prove it.”
“Go out?” asked Rick. “Now?”
“For an intrepid reporter you’re remarkably unintrepid, Rick,” I said.
“He’s become domesticated,” Fee explained. “I’m afraid that’s my fault.”
“Why don’t you call the police?” Rick insisted. “I’m sure they’ll be happy to follow up on your hunch.”
“No, they won’t,” I said, remembering Rock’s reluctance to believe anything I said. First the ghost thing, then the Cady Relish thing. If he was going to believe me, I’d have to prove it to him first. “So what are you waiting for? Let’s go.”
Rick reluctantly got dressed, while Fee seemed more eager to go out there and do neighborhood watchy stuff. “Should we tell the others?” she asked.
“No, we don’t want to stomp in there with an entire tour bus,” I said. “We need to sneak in and out unseen, and that’s not exactly the Holy Trinity’s forte.”
Gaston snuck back into the room, now that the coast was clear, and was relieved to find that he had the whole bed to himself. He curled up on Rick’s side.
“He’s going to put cat hair all over the sheets,” Rick grumbled.
“There, there, honey,” said Fee, patting him on the head. “Everything is fine.”
He eyed her with worry. “Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this. I mean, in your condition…”
She planted a hand on her hip. “Oh, is that’s how it’s gonna be?”
“I think it’s very considerate of you, Rick,” I said, also patting him on the head.
“Oh, stop it already, you two,” he grumbled, and finally finished dressing. “I went behind the lines during the Gulf War—”
“The first one or the second?” I asked.
“The third. I went hiking with the Taliban. I infiltrated Chechen rebels so I could talk to their leader. I hung out with Mexican cartel members and I interviewed drug lords in the Colombian jungle.”
“Paco Rabanne, right?” asked Fee.
“Not Paco Rabanne!” he cried. “Pablo Rabanne!”
“See?” I asked Fee. “I told you Paco Rabanne wasn’t a drug lord.”
“So I think,” Rick said, tying his laces with so much force I thought they’d snap, “I can break into the house of a killer without getting caught, all right?”
“Of course, Ricky,” I said, and both Fee and I giggled. I love Rick like a brother, which is probably why it’s so much fun to tease him. “But we’re not breaking into a house. We’re breaking into the Happy Bays Inn.”
“Why do I have the feeling we’ve done this before?” asked Fee.
“Because we have done this before,” said Rick. “Only the last time was with Ree—” He stopped before he could utter the fateful word, and quickly stalked out.
“You know?” I suddenly said, making a decision. “I think it’s about time people stopped walking on eggshells around me. I’m over Reece. I’m so over Reece I don’t even mind mentioning his name.” We walked down the stairs. “Did you hear me, Rick? I’m so over Reece you can mention his name as much as you want. You can even be friends with Reece for all I care. Bosom buddies.”
“I was never Reece’s bosom buddy,” said Rick. “In fact for the most part we didn’t get along. And if I never see the guy again that’s fine by me.”
I smiled and patted his head again. “Thanks, Ricky,” I said softly.
“You’re welcome,” he said, turning and returning my smile. “Now are you finally going to tell us whose room we’re going to be searching and what we’re looking for?”
When I told him, he was surprised, and so was Fee. Then again, I was a little surprised myself, and not completely sure my hunch was right.
When we arrived at the Inn the clock had just struck three. And to my satisfaction all the Elvises and Priscillas had turned in for the night. Not a soul stirred as we snuck around the back of the Inn. As usual, the terrace doors weren’t locked—one thing the new owner hadn’t changed—and we slipped inside. The dining room was set for breakfast the next day, and when we moved into the lobby, half expecting to find a receptionist to greet us, I was relieved to find that the Inn still didn’t employ a night manager.
We tiptoed up the stairs and halted in front of room 224. “This is it,” I said, quite unnecessarily. Rick nodded and got a small pouch out of his pocket. It contained a few tools he’d picked up when infiltrating a gang of world-renowned Romanian thieves also known as the Veterans Club because most of the men were over the age of sixty.
“What if they catch us?” Fee whispered.
“We’ll just have to be very, very quiet,” I whispered back.
“I’m in,” Rick murmured, pushing open the door with a click.
We filed in after him, and my eyes immediately traveled to the bed, where Hollie was asleep with Merle. There was still a full moon out, which made it easier to find our way around the room. The Elvis impersonator was snoring loudly, while Hollie lay at the edge of the bed, her back to her husband.
I took one side of the room, while Fee took the other, with Rick checking the bathroom. I just hoped both Merle and Hollie would prove sound sleepers. Though even if Hollie woke up, I would simply explain to her how I thought her husband might have killed Banning. She would understand. Maybe she would even help us find the buckle.
And I was just looking under the bed when suddenly I heard the door open behind me and close again. I looked up with a frown, and saw a heavyset figure sneak inside the room, a camera in hand. Then, before I could figure out what was going on, the figure was filming Merle!
“Hey!” I hissed. “What the hell are you doing here?!”
The figure heaved a soft whimper of shock when he realized he wasn’t alone in here, and when Fee also got up from the other side of the bed, where she’d had the same idea as me, and Rick came out of the bathroom, the whimpering intensified.
“Cady!” I said. “This isn’t funny! You’ve got to stop doing this!”
More whimpering.
“Give me that camera,” I said, snatching the thing from his hands.
“Are you going to arrest me?” he asked. “Is this you arresting me?”
“I’m not going to arrest you. I am going to tell the cops on you, though.”
“Shush!” Fee loud-whispered from the other side of the room.
“Say, what are you guys doing here?” asked Cady.
“We’re… looking for clues,” I said.
Even in the relative obscurity of the room, I could see his eyes go wide. “Oh, my God. Is that the killer? Is that the Banning Pender killer?!”
“Maybe,” I admitted. “Now get the hell out of here!”
“What’s going on?” a deep voice suddenly sounded. “What’s all the racket?”
It sounded like Elvis, but I knew it wasn’t. It was Merle Perarnau, and he’d just woken up. A light flashed on, and Merle lay blinking at me, Fee, Rick, and Cady.
Cady heaved another tremulous whimper, and said, “Don’t kill me, sir. Don’t kill me, please! I don’t even like ducks!”
“What the hell,” Merle grumbled, swinging his feet from the bed. I saw he was only dressed in a belt buckle and nothing else, though the belt buckle, unfortunately, wasn’t Banning’s. I tried not to look south of the buckle, as there were things going on there I wasn’t eager to examine.
“Who are you people?” Merle growled, hoisting up his belt, more out of habit than anything else. The end result was that his prominent belly shifted up, and his glockenspiel made a jiggly movement.
“Sir, could you put some pants on?” asked Rick. “There are children present.”
“I’m not a child,” said Cady petulantly. “I’m sixteen-and-a-half.”
“Cady was filming you,” I explained. “He’s Venganza Mierda.
Though why he’s filming Elvises I don’t quite understand.”
We all eyed Cady, who looked like he would rather be anywhere but here. He emitted a nervous giggle. “It’s a school project,” he finally admitted. “Mr. Jackson wants us to make a study of sleep. So I decided to film sleeping people. They’re so fascinating.”
“But why the whole neighborhood watch spiel?” Fee asked.
He shrugged. “My aunt told me you guys keep busting her chops about Sheena. So I figured I might as well kill two birds with one stone.” At this, his eye wandered to Merle’s bird and two stones, and immediately he looked away again. “And when I ran out of neighborhood watchers, I moved to Elvises, figuring I could do Happy Baysians once the conference is over.”
“So this was all a school project?” asked Rick. “That’s crazy.”
“Do you think I’ll get a good grade?” he asked. “I put in a lot of work.”
“I hope you get kicked out of school,” said Rick. “And locked up in jail.”
“Rick,” Fee said pacifically. “We’ve all been young.”
“Young! He broke into our home! Filmed us in our beds!”
“What I would like to know is what you are doing here?” asked Merle, pointing at me and Fee and Rick. “Him, I can understand. He’s a young idiot. But you?”
“We were trying to catch Cady,” I said, thinking quick. “And we did!”
“What’s going on?” asked a sleepy voice. Hollie, who’d only now woken up, stared at us. “Alice? What…”
“This one here,” said Merle, gesturing at Cady, “is some young pervert who likes to film old snookers like me naked.”
“Oh, but sir, you’ve got that all wrong!” Cady cried. “I don’t even like old snookers like you! And definitely not when they’re naked!”
“And these three here claim they were trying to catch him in the act.”
Hollie stared at me. “I don’t think that’s entirely true, is it, Alice?”
I was making desperate eye gestures at her to keep quiet. “Yes, it is.”
She smiled, and got out of bed. Then she reached beneath the mattress and took out a very big, very dangerous-looking gun. I recognized it as a Smith & Wesson M&P Shield. It was the gun that had killed Banning.