by Krista Davis
“How did you know?”
“It was on the floor yesterday. Did you know Elmer was a lawyer, like me? Pretty interesting guy.” He eyed the big footstool. “That’s odd. I left it right there.”
“It’ll turn up. Anyway, I’ve examined it. I didn’t see anything that would make it fly through the air.”
“It happened when we were there, too. Holly, I looked at the book myself. There were no strings and it wasn’t weighted. Like you said, it just flew through the air. Birdie said Elmer likes to toss books around.”
“They probably slide off the table. Don’t you think?”
“How about the Ouija board demonstration? That was the weirdest thing. They all had their hands above the table, yet it lifted.”
“They told you about the melding of minds thing, right?”
“Are you kidding? I looked it up right away. I don’t know—after talking with Felix, Mark, and Grayson, I have to wonder if I was too quick to jump to conclusions. They’re pretty bright guys. I wrote off ghosts as preposterous without much consideration. I’m going to have to give this some thought. It sure felt like someone was at Aunt Birdie’s place last night. I could swear someone touched my arm.”
I almost fell over. Ben? Believing in ghosts?
He stretched and yawned again. “I expected the caffeine to wake me up, but I’m pooped. I’m going back to bed. Good night.”
“Good night.” I watched him stumble toward the guest bedroom and thought it was very decent of me not to remind him that it was morning.
After a quick trip to the potty for Trixie, we headed for breakfast. I was beginning to look forward to the fabulous breakfasts at the inn every day.
Oma was already sipping coffee in the quiet dining area. Gingersnap lay at her feet and wagged her tail when she saw us.
I pecked Oma on the cheek and said good morning. Stroking Gingersnap’s broad red head, I slid into a chair. Due to the early hour, only a scant handful of non-guests had showed up for breakfast. With the ghost hunters asleep after a night of work, Shelley didn’t have much to do yet. She brought mushroom and spinach crepes for Oma and me and spinach crepes for the dogs. At Oma’s invitation, she retrieved another crepe for herself and joined us for breakfast.
We gabbed about Wagtail until Mr. Luciano arrived. Oma immediately invited him to join us as well. Shelley shifted into waitress mode just long enough to fetch coffee, orange juice, and a stack of pumpkin pancakes with pork sausages on the side.
“You are up early,” said Oma.
Mr. Luciano waved his hand. “I don’t stay up all night with the ghost hunters. No, no. Mark is in charge of them during their investigations, and I get my sleep!”
Mr. Luciano cleared his throat. “Liesel, our stay at the Sugar Maple Inn has surpassed all expectations. Except for one small item. Has anyone ever suggested that you have a poltergeist?”
Oma’s eyebrows lifted. “This is a very old building. A few guests have reported ghost sightings over the years.”
Shelley stopped eating. Her gaze darted around the room. “Your team is seeing ghosts in the inn?”
Twenty-five
“Nothing like that,” Mr. Luciano directed a reassuring smile at Shelley. “It seems things are being moved. Small items. Felix reported leaving a package of crackers on the nightstand of his room. When he returned, the bed had been made but the crackers were gone. He found them later on the seat of a chair.”
Oma tsked. “I shall ask our housekeeper to be more careful. She probably moved them to dust.”
“They are such insignificant things that I wouldn’t normally mention them at all.” Mr. Luciano speared a piece of pancake with his fork. “It sounds like a poltergeist. Brian left a pen on the dresser and found it in the bathroom. One of the cameramen seems to think someone went through his duffel bag.”
Duffel bag? How would anyone know? They weren’t like suitcases where everything would be orderly. Just picking up a duffel bag could dislodge an item.
Oma frowned. “Is anything missing?”
“No, no. You don’t have a thief on your hands. Are you sure no guests have mentioned a possible poltergeist before?”
While they chatted, my mind wandered. First someone tried to sneak into the inn through the back door. Now items were being moved around? Luggage searched? Could there be a connection? A thief who was looking for something?
Oma nudged me. “Holly! Mr. Luciano asked you a question.”
He graced me with an indulgent smile. “I hope you’ll join us today at one o’clock when we discuss our findings from our investigation at Birdie’s house. Your charming aunt will be there.”
Charming wasn’t exactly the word I would have used to describe Birdie. But then, she probably hadn’t awakened him in the middle of the night to see if he would come to her rescue. “I would love to attend. Are we serving breakfast again?”
Shelley nodded. “I can’t wait to hear what they found. That Ouija board demonstration last night was something else.”
“Speaking of poltergeists, Mr. Luciano, when the ghost hunters checked in, a most mysterious orb floated across the wall. You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?” I asked.
Mr. Luciano roared. “That was fun. A most appropriate greeting for them, don’t you think?”
“How did you do that?” I asked.
“It was easy. I arrived a few days early and Lillian was kind enough to help me experiment. All you need is a flashlight and a good hiding place. The balcony overlooking the reception area proved ideal. I could stand back far enough to be out of view from anyone downstairs. I simply turned on the flashlight, pointed it at the wall and let it travel around the room. The beam makes a perfect glowing orb! I’m told it can also be done through a window, though I suspect that might work better in the dark.”
* * *
After breakfast, I spent the morning with Oma, working out my responsibilities and setting up a schedule that would give her plenty of time off.
I grabbed a quick lunch of crab cakes and salad with Shelley, then helped her set up the breakfast buffet for the Apparition Apprehenders in the sitting room.
I hadn’t seen Ben all morning. Now that he was a converted believer in ghosts, surely he wouldn’t want to miss the Apparition Apprehenders’s meeting. I dashed up the grand staircase, gasping for breath at the top.
Trixie beat me there but showed no sign of being winded.
I unlocked the door and strode in—to a mess! As if it weren’t bad enough that boxes still cluttered the floor, someone had spread shredded newspaper all over it. I hurried to the guest room and opened the door. “Ben?”
He rolled over and covered his eyes with his forearm. “Mmm.”
“What happened here?”
“Hmm? Sleep.” He turned to his side.
“Mr. Luciano is about to start his discussion of the findings from last night.”
Ben sat up fast. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“What’s with the newspaper?”
“What newspaper?”
“Out here.” I left him alone to dress.
He was pulling a shirt over his head when he stumbled in and saw what I meant. “What happened?”
“Don’t you know?”
“I was asleep.”
He had the decency to help me gather the newspaper shreds and deposit them in the trash.
Trixie and I left him and rushed back downstairs to work.
Eva arrived first, carrying a cup of coffee. She wore a turquoise dress with a boat neck and a brown leather belt that cinched her waist. The skirt flared out in generous folds. She kept her eyes glued on the mirror where we had seen Mallory’s face, but she must have noticed me. “Any more appearances by Mallory?”
“Not that I know of. Have you seen Mrs. Mewer this morning?”
Eva
dared to turn her back on the mirror. She cocked her head and smiled. “She was so cute. She came to my room and mewed outside the door. When I opened it, she walked in proud as could be, holding her tail high. And your darling Twinkletoes followed right behind her. They jumped on the bed and snuggled down with us for a nap. They were adorable.”
Us. Did she realize she’d said us? Or was her relationship with Mark common knowledge now? Did Dave know about it?
Eva smoothed her skirt, settled on a sofa, and patted it. “Could we talk for a minute before everyone else arrives?”
I sat down next to her. “Sure. What’s up?”
She lowered her voice. “Has Ben ever done anything that made you wonder if you didn’t know him as well as you thought?”
“Funny timing. Just this morning, he said—”
She leaned over and whispered, “I’m afraid Mark killed Mallory.” She covered her mouth with both of her hands. “I can’t believe I said that out loud. It’s been weighing on me for days!”
A shiver started at my head and zigzagged down to my toes. “Why would you think that?”
Eva heaved a huge sigh. “Mark and I were engaged once, but Mallory came between us.” She set her coffee on a side table and fingered the fabric of her skirt. “I couldn’t bring myself to forgive him for the longest time. I hated Mallory. I had been ready to marry Mark when she came along and ruined everything. Part of me blames Mark, of course. He didn’t have to fall for her, to be seduced by a little vixen. But Mallory used people and knew how to stroke a guy’s ego. She latched on to him like a tick. And suddenly, my future changed. No marriage, no Mark. I took a job in another town.”
She sipped her coffee. “After a few months, Mark tried to get in touch, but I ignored him. I was too hurt. There was no amount of explaining that could ever help me overcome what had happened between us. But as time went on, my thoughts kept coming back to him, like we were destined to be together. When he contacted me about the Apparition Apprehenders, I thought he was trying to mend fences. I was ready to see him again. To find out if there was still a spark between us after all. We e-mailed back and forth, and honestly, it was like those years had never passed.”
Now it was beginning to make sense. “So you were expecting a romantic reunion with him.”
“Exactly. But when I arrived, Mallory was here.” Her eyes met mine. “I was shocked to see her. It tore me apart to know she and Mark were still an item and that everything he’d said had been a big lie. You can imagine how furious I was. No, it was more than that.” She closed her eyes briefly in pain. “I relived all the dashed hopes that I experienced at my broken engagement. I thought Mark lured me here under false pretenses, hoping to spark the existing animosity between Mallory and me for the show. I hate that petty fights boost ratings. I was having none of it. I will not be used for such base sensationalism.”
But hadn’t I seen her sneaking off with Mark? “You changed your mind about Mark’s intentions?”
Eva blinked hard. “I was mistaken. It wasn’t easy convincing me that he and Mallory weren’t an item. I’m not that foolish. I’m not a young girl eager to believe sweet talk. I guess that’s obvious. I’m not easily duped. But there’s no question that Mark still has feelings for me.”
I didn’t want to give her cause to reconsider, but the words slipped out of my mouth. “Then why was Mallory staying with him?”
Eva heaved a sigh. “Yes, that disturbed me as well. Mark is a kind soul. I gather that in her quest to snare Mark, romantically speaking, Mallory made several surprise visits to Wagtail. During her last visit, she agreed to participate in the ghost walk this week but failed to reserve a room. Then she came back and there wasn’t a room available in town, so Mark capitulated but told her this was the very last time she could bunk at his place.”
I didn’t know Mark the way Eva did but I would be suspicious. Oma had said the whole town was booked solid. Still, if I were in Eva’s shoes and the woman who had been the cause of my broken engagement appeared to be shacking up with my boyfriend again, I don’t know that I would have bought that story.
“I . . . I’m still in love with him. I’m surprised. Deep inside I hoped our reunion would play out with a happy ending, but I never thought I would feel this way. It’s still there. We were meant to be together.”
Oh no. I really liked Eva. But didn’t that admission put her first in line for murdering Mallory?
Eva released a shuddering breath. “Mallory was such a pill. Mark was afraid she would come between us again. And then Mallory was murdered. It’s like she’s haunting me.”
I nudged her in a friendly way. “But you don’t believe in ghosts.”
She turned her head to glance at the mirror again. “I don’t have to see her. I can’t get her out of my head. Maybe that’s the reality of ghosts. Maybe they live in our heads.”
“I don’t follow.”
She held her arms out as though she were embracing the world. “There’s so much input around us. Sounds and smells and sights—everywhere we look, there are a million details to take in. Our brains compensate by filling in the blanks. That allows us to capture what we need at a glance. Maybe when someone dies, and we’re thinking about them, our brains fill in blanks by adding them for a moment.” She brightened. “That would account for sightings where the ghost is gone in an instant.”
“But I saw Mallory in the mirror, too.”
“That’s right.” She scowled. “So much for that theory. Oh no, here they come. Please don’t mention this to anyone?”
Why did people keep asking me to keep their secrets? Especially when danger was involved? I didn’t know Eva nearly as well as I knew Clementine, but if Mark was a murderer, then Dave needed to know.
I stood up in a hurry, eager to avoid promising anything.
Casper bounded in with a moccasin in his mouth. Trixie ran to him to sniff his score. Felix carried an oversized mug, which I promptly filled with coffee. His eyes were barely open but he politely murmured, “Thanks,” before nestling on the sofa.
“Is it okay for Casper to chew on that shoe?” I asked.
“Huh?” Felix moaned. “Give me that!” He hustled over to Casper and took the moccasin away from him.
The rest of them staggered in slowly. Even energetic Brian viewed me with bleary eyes and a giant yawn. “Your aunt is a hoot.”
I poured coffee for him. “Really? I don’t know that side of her.”
“Aw man, she’s so into spirits. Wish I had an aunt like her.”
I bit back my desire to beg him to take her.
Mr. Luciano turned up, looking rested and pleased. Gina trotted along beside him.
Lillian Elsner and Aunt Birdie arrived simultaneously from different directions. Their eyes met, and I could almost hear Western-style dueling music. Walking as fast as she could, Birdie collided with Lillian, elbow to elbow in her eagerness to be the first to reach Mr. Luciano.
Lillian won. She straightened the riding blazer she wore over a blue button-down shirt and smoothed her trousers. GloryB joined the other dogs. Polite canine sniffing protocol ensued.
Aunt Birdie’s thin lips rolled into an angry slash as she watched Lillian greet Mr. Luciano.
Eva’s words, two can play this game, echoed in my head as Birdie slid into the seat next to Mr. Luciano. The very seat in which Lillian, no doubt, had planned to sit.
I saw it coming before it happened. Not realizing that Birdie had slid into the chair behind her, Lillian sat on Birdie’s bony knees. Birdie jerked up, sending Lillian to the floor.
I set the coffeepot on a table and rushed to Lillian’s aid. “I’m so sorry! Are you all right?” I held out my arms to her.
Birdie rose to her full height. In her very best Southern lady voice, she trilled, “Mercy me! Dahlin’, a heifer has to be careful where it plops its hindquarters.”
I wanted a hole to open in the floor and swallow her. I wasn’t that lucky, though. “Lillian, let me help you up.”
Grayson beat me to it. I scooted out of the way, and Lillian looped her hands over his shoulders.
But if Birdie thought she’d won, she was dead wrong.
Mr. Luciano offered Lillian the coveted chair next to him.
Birdie turned paler than Becca Wraith’s ghost. “Maybe you should go,” I whispered.
“I will do no such thing! They’re going to talk about my ghosts. If anyone has a right to be here, it’s me.”
I hoped she realized that her game had backfired and she’d lost the battle for Mr. Luciano.
Birdie lifted her scrawny chin. Holding her head high, she strode across the room, took the seat next to Grayson and patted his hand.
Lillian was as sweet as could be. “Now don’t fuss about me. I just took a little spill is all. I seem to be doing that a lot lately.”
I cast a dirty look at Aunt Birdie, who turned away.
When everyone had calmed down, Mr. Luciano asked Eva if she’d had a chance to analyze the EVPs from the hotel.
One cameraman turned in her direction, and the other focused on Brian, who scooted to the edge of his seat.
I hoped he wasn’t gearing up for another outburst like the one yesterday.
Eva cleared her throat. “While almost anything can be achieved these days through technology, I’m unable to find any evidence of tampering with the recording. EVPs can be a little bit tricky, because the sounds are so full of static that they’re often unrecognizable as words until the words are imputed and the power of suggestion comes into play.”
Eva paused for a moment. “You will be happy to know that in my years of listening to EVPs, these are the most remarkable ones I have ever heard. There is no doubt that a child’s voice is saying, ‘I’m gonna get you.’”
A cheer went up among the ghost hunters. Mr. Luciano applauded and grinned.
When the noise subsided, Eva continued. “Unless the recorder picked up a child’s voice from another location”—she lifted her forefinger as though suggesting caution—“which is possible, what with baby monitors and the like, I cannot explain away this particular EVP.”