Dead Roots

Home > Other > Dead Roots > Page 7
Dead Roots Page 7

by Nancy J. Cohen

Hadn’t the psychic said her brother had to move past his emotional difficulties? Reverend Sherman’s insights revealed that Michael had meant to apologize to their father, but he hadn’t been able to do so before the man died. Her dad had made his peace; now it was her brother’s turn. She had to offer forgiveness, too, if she meant to help him.

  Besides, Marla had taken out a loan recently, and she hadn’t told Michael about it. True, Miriam Pearl had offered the funds after Marla had solved the murder of the old lady’s granddaughter. Marla needed it to buy some rental property from her ex-spouse. But from the rent received plus her income from work she’d been able to make the payments to Miriam each month.

  “At least tell Charlene about your situation,” she said. “It’s better to forewarn her instead of surprising her if you run into a snag. She’s smarter than you think. I’ll bet she’s already guessed what you’ve avoided telling her.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I have a plan to set things straight. But I do appreciate your listening.” Tapping her under the chin, he grinned. “I’m always here for you, too, sis.”

  In another instant, he’d turned on his heel and left.

  Marla stood alone with the buzzing insects and steady rhythm of the waves. Troubled by their encounter, she watched her brother’s retreating figure until the dark night swallowed him.

  She’d stepped forward a few paces, intending to return to her hotel room, when a moving shadow on the rear veranda caught her eye. Changing direction, she climbed the stone stairway to the Grand Terrace.

  Dr. Rip Spector faced Oleander Hall, holding some sort of device in his hand. Marla cleared her throat, startling him because he jerked upright.

  “Sorry, I didn’t hear you approach.” Lamplight gave her a glimpse of his stark white hair, curious hazel eyes, and surprisingly young face. She’d put him in his mid-forties.

  “I’m Marla Shore. My family is here for a reunion this weekend. Mr. Butler told me he hired you to chase away the ghosts,” she said, cracking a grin.

  “Indeed. I’m attempting to get a base reading on the EMF fluctuations.” He spoke stiffly, as though used to people’s skepticism.

  “Pardon me?” Her glance fell to the instrument he held.

  “Electromagnetic field. Spirits produce a disruption of energy in the area, but so do many of our common household appliances. This EMF field meter measures readings, but I have to locate normal sources before I can detect unusual spikes.”

  “I see.” She noted the open canvas bag on the ground displaying an array of other equipment. “Have you found anything interesting yet?”

  “Oh yes.” His voice filled with enthusiasm. “This place abounds with spiritual energy. So much has happened here in the past, it’s no wonder.”

  “Are you allowed into Oleander Hall?” she asked.

  “Of course, although Mr. Butler has requested we clear the times with him before we work there.”

  “I thought I felt a presence in the tower elevator.”

  The ghost hunter laughed, which eased the lines on his face and gave him a more carefree appearance. Marla wondered what he did for his day job. ‘That’s probably old Andrew, who wants to scare people away from his penthouse.”

  “Why is that?”

  Dr. Spector shrugged. He had a bulky frame, made wider by too many good meals. “Could be he’s just territorial. I don’t think that’s the case with the anomalies in Oleander. I’ve caught a ball of light in the parlor with my camera and EVP—electronic voice phenomena—on audio. I’m no psychic, but those spirits seem restless.”

  “Can you find out what they want?”

  “That’s not my job. We’re here to capture evidence of spirit activity and convince the entities to leave. If you’re respectful, and you tell them to go, they’ll realize they don’t belong there anymore.”

  “What about the man who fell off his ladder today?” she said, careful to keep her voice neutral. “According to the manager, some of the workmen believe a ghost may have caused the disaster.”

  “Poltergeists can be dangerous, not because they want to cause harm, but because they possess a great deal of energy.” He gave her a level stare. “I don’t believe that unfortunate business was related to our otherworldly friends.”

  “The police say it was an accident.”

  “So I would presume.” He tilted his head. “If you’re really interested in learning more about what we do, come up to my room. I can show you photos of orbs and other phenomena.”

  “No, thanks, I don’t have time right now. Besides, I’d rather check out Oleander Hall. Can you call me when you’re going inside the old wing? I promise I won’t interfere with your research.” Unless she mistook that gleam in his eye, he’d look for an excuse to run into her again.

  Her thoughts swerved in a new direction the next morning. After a leisurely breakfast and a brisk walk around the resort, she and Vail split up. He headed to a volleyball game on the beach, while she joined a bowling tournament in the sports and spa complex. Needing time alone with her family, she figured this would be a good opportunity to bring up Polly’s mention of the family riches.

  “Aunt Polly told me about some gemstones our grandfather owned,” she said to her assorted cousins. “I’ll bet this is where he got the money to buy the plantation. She believes the remainder of his loot is still here. Polly has been searching for it but unsuccessfully so far, and she’s asked for my help.”

  Lori, who’d come with her husband, widened her eyes. “No kidding. What kind of gems? Diamonds?”

  “Where did grandfather get them?” inserted Cynthia, looking her usual svelte self in belted linen slacks and a silk blouse.

  “Good question,” Marla replied. “Maybe he stole them, and those visitors in Cossack hats were detectives who tracked him down. Supposedly Andrew was upset after he left them in his parlor. Why else would they have come to see him?”

  “They could have been foreign investors,” Cynthia offered. “What if they’d put up the money for the hotel and wanted payback? If Andrew didn’t have the funds, that would be enough cause to give him a stroke.”

  “Didn’t you say Ruth stopped talking to her sister and brothers after Andrew died?” Lori asked Marla. “If the remaining stones were missing, maybe she suspected her siblings stole them. She could have blamed them for their father’s fatal attack.” Lori stopped speaking to applaud Jeff, who’d just scored a strike.

  Marla gestured. “Aunt Polly said she wanted to right old wrongs this weekend. Since our great-aunt and great-uncles are no longer living, that would refer to our Colorado cousins.”

  “I don’t think they know any more than we do about the past history of Sugar Crest,” said Joan, one of Marla’s teammates. Her daughter Rochelle was noticeably absent. Marla wondered if the teen had gone to the beach with her new friends, where she’d likely run into Vail. It made her impatient to leave.

  “Polly recommended this place for our reunion, didn’t she?” Marla addressed her query to Cynthia.

  The blonde nodded. “I can’t tell you how surprised I felt when Aunt Polly said our family used to own the resort. My mother was the next eldest after Polly, but she’d never said a word to me. Lori, you and Jeff have been here before. Did Uncle William say anything to you?”

  “We’re just as much in the dark as you are, aren’t we, sweetheart? “Jeff said, smiling at his wife as he walked up to them. “You know, I’m getting a hankering for a mug of hot coffee.”

  Lori scrambled to her feet from the bench where she’d waited for her turn. “I’ll get right on it, dear.”

  “Try not to spill it this time, okay? Oh, and get me a couple of chocolate doughnuts while you’re at it.”

  Lori seemed to shrink into herself. “I may not have enough change.”

  Frowning, Jeff pulled out his wallet. “I thought I just gave you a ten yesterday. I told you not to squander it. Here’s twenty. That had better last longer.”

  Watching their exchange, M
arla bit her tongue to keep herself from defending her cousin. Not one to allow a man to push her around, she felt her hackles rise, especially when she remembered her encounter with Jeffrey and the cute chef last night. It’s not your place to interfere, she reminded herself, digging her nails into her palms. Nonetheless, she resolved to catch Lori alone later and offer a few words of advice.

  Her turn came, and she rolled the ball down the lane, where it ended in the side gutter. Oh, well. Bowling wasn’t her thing; it was the conversation that interested her more.

  “What do you think, Marla?” Jeff asked. “Is there something valuable hidden here that belongs to our family?”

  My family, pal “If anyone looks for the stuff, it should be me. Polly didn’t tell any of you about the gems. She wanted me to help her find the stones.”

  “Hey, they don’t belong to her,” Cynthia protested. “We’re all Andrew’s heirs. If there’s going to be a treasure hunt, I want in.”

  That’s what you get for introducing Cynthia to adventure. After facing down a couple of murderous crooks in a funeral home with Marla, her cousin was too eager to participate in another investigation. “We don’t even know what to look for or where to begin,” Marla said, hoping to discourage false hopes. Oh no? What about Andrew’s penthouse tower suite, that everyone claimed was haunted but was situated above the floor where Potty had grown up?

  “Maybe it’s hidden in the old sugar mill,” said one of the other cousins. “You know, guarded by that lady ghost.” She gave a delicious shiver.

  Marla had given up trying to learn everyone’s name. They needed name tags. Restless to get outside into the fresh air and look for Vail, she shifted on the hard bench while another ball clunked onto the alley and thundered toward the pins.

  Her temples throbbed by the time the game finished and she’d turned in her shoes. She sauntered outdoors, wincing at the bright sunlight. Their big family dinner wasn’t until three o’clock, so she still had some morning hours free. Her steps took her toward the beach, where apparently the volleyball game was long over. Sun-warmed sand sifted through her toes as she walked without her sandals, checking the occupants of the lounge chairs. Giving cousins Alan and Julia a passing greeting, she moved on to the pool, where she found Cynthia’s brother. He sat in animated conversation with some of her younger relatives, dealing cards at a table. After muttering her greetings, she turned and headed for the main hotel.

  She should’ve known Vail would escape at the earliest opportunity to watch the latest sports games on television. He lay stretched out on their bed, his lazy eyes welcoming her as she threw down her purse and regarded him with a smile.

  “Back so soon? I thought you wanted to explore the nature preserve next door,” she said in an airy tone.

  “We’ll do that together another day.” He patted the bedspread. “I’ve another type of exercise in mind. Just put that Do Not Disturb sign on the door, and I’ll show you what I mean.” His sexy grin left no doubts.

  Casting aside her intent to change into a swimsuit, Marla stripped off her clothes while Vail watched with blatant desire. It was a heady sensation to know she could turn him on so readily. Her nerves tingled with sensitivity, making her ache for his touch. Like an adolescent just discovering the power of her body, she paraded naked in front of him while his gaze followed her movements.

  Sharing a room with Dalton came with certain disadvantages, Marla noted later that afternoon when she’d showered and changed into a Wedgwood blue dress. After a couple of hours at the pool, she could have used a nap, but he’d been ready to resume their private games. While she’d trade his form of distraction for sleep any day, dark circles under her eyes required an application of coverup. Finishing with a coat of apricot lip gloss, she called her mother’s room to see if Anita needed any help. It was nearly time for their family dinner.

  “I’m fine, but you might check on Aunt Polly. She doesn’t answer the phone when I ring her room. I haven’t seen her all morning. I know she’s avoiding me.”

  “Ma, they don’t have Caller ID here. She has no way of knowing it’s you on the other end of the line.”

  “I’ll bet she can tell.”

  “I doubt that’s true. Anyway, we’ll see her at dinner.” Marla hesitated, clutching the receiver from the phone on the nightstand. Vail had just spritzed himself with cologne, and she could smell his favorite spice scent. “Aunt Polly told me about some gemstones that Andrew might have hidden. Were you aware of any valuables belonging to the family?”

  Her mother snorted. “Polly makes up what she wants to believe, although if she’s searching for jewels, that would explain her trips here every year. She insists on staying in the same room for some reason, or so the staff have told me. I wouldn’t put any credence in her claims. I think Papa borrowed his money, and there wasn’t anything left.”

  “What about those two visitors Andrew had the night he died? They could have been creditors calling in their loan. Bid Ruth ever say who they were?”

  “My mother was very distraught that night.”

  “Why did she get mad at her sister and brothers?”

  “How should I know? I was too young to notice.”

  “Polly also mentioned some letters that she wrote to a man named Vincent.” Marla heard a brief hitch in her mother’s breath.

  “If you want to humor her, go ahead,” Anita said sharply. “I need to finish getting ready.”

  Dalton approached her after she hung up. “I gather your mom doesn’t agree with Polly’s talk about precious gems. Maybe you shouldn’t waste your time, either.”

  “You just want me all to yourself.”

  His response nearly demolished her plan to reach the ballroom early. When she emerged from his passionate kiss, she wobbled on shaky knees to the bathroom to reapply her lipstick. Everyone will know what we’ve been up to most of the day, she thought, examining her heightened complexion in the mirror.

  But when they joined the congregation in the hall outside the banquet room, Marla’s state of composure wasn’t utmost in her relatives’ minds.

  “Where’s your diamond ring?” cousin Julia queried when Vail was out of earshot, getting her a drink from the lobby bar. Marla needed to fortify herself for the coming ordeal, and so, she suspected, did her fiancé. Her apprehension was justified by Julia’s snotty remark.

  She glanced at the circle of curious faces surrounding them. “We haven’t had time to go jewelry shopping. We’ve been too busy. This is the first break we’ve had.”

  “Are you going to quit work when you get married?” said Brenda, from the Colorado contingent.

  “I like my job, and I’ve worked hard to build my salon. Why would I want to give it up?”

  “I don’t suppose you’ll get married in that same temple where you and Stanley had the ceremony. Are you still a member?”

  “No, I’m not, and since Dalton isn’t Jewish, we’ll probably look for a hotel or something.”

  “Now you’re on Polly’s blacklist,” sneered Cynthia’s brother, Corbin. His hair stood in spikes as stiff as his smile.

  “She needs my help. We’re on speaking terms again.”

  “Aunt Polly won’t speak to me since I married Christine,” said an older cousin, Jon. He was Uncle Floyd’s son, a younger brother of Polly’s who’d died from cancer. “It’s her loss, not mine.”

  “You’d better believe it,” Corbin said. “She’s alienated half the family with her attitude. That’s why I can’t understand how come she brought us all together for this weekend.”

  “Has anyone seen her?” Marla said, craning her neck to search the crowd. Instead of her aunt, she spied Vail juggling two wineglasses while heading in her direction. After expressing her appreciation to him, she took a long sip of chilled chardonnay, then relayed her concern. Polly isn’t here yet. What do you suppose is keeping her?”

  “Who knows?” Vail shrugged. “Maybe she met your ghost in the tower elevator.”

  “Tha
t’s not funny.”

  When the ballroom doors opened and a hostess ushered them inside to take their seats, Marla’s apprehension grew. Polly’s chair yawned conspicuously vacant at the head table. Resisting an urge to gnaw her fingernails, she waited impatiently while the serving staff poured their water and presented a mushroom pie en croute for an appetizer. Her gaze fixed on the doorway, she finally gave up and tossed her napkin on the table.

  “I’m going upstairs,” she told the assemblage. “Something must have happened to Polly. It’s way past the time when she should’ve been here.”

  Chapter Seven

  “I’ll come with you,” Lori offered, half rising from her chair.

  “Sit down.” Jeffrey gave her shoulder a squeeze. “No one asked you to interfere. If Marla takes anyone, it should be her boyfriend. He’s a cop.”

  Marla’s mother twisted her hands. “Do you think something has happened to Polly? She wouldn’t miss Thanksgiving dinner, not when it was her idea that brought us here.”

  “Could be Polly just wants to focus attention on herself,” Moishe speculated, digging into his appetizer. “She’s been acting mighty strange this weekend.”

  “You’re right,” Marla replied, “and I don’t like it.” She waved at Vail, directing him back to his seat. “Don’t let the waiter remove my food. I’ll see what’s holding her up. I don’t need help.”

  As she passed through the lobby, she realized Vail’s hasty push to his feet was probably motivated by his panic at the thought of being left alone with her relatives. Too late now. She headed toward the central tower before remembering Polly’s sleeping arrangements. Turning toward Jasmine Hall, she crossed into the outer wing through a set of double glass doors before hitting the elevator call button. Ghosts didn’t reside in this section, at least she hoped not.

  “Howdy, Miz Shore,” said Harvey Lyle with a wink as he passed by holding a room service tray. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “Same to you. How come you’re not off for the holiday?”

  “Somebody’s got to be here, ma’am. I volunteered since I ain’t got no folks around these parts.”

 

‹ Prev