by TM Simmons
Chapter 3
Sir Gary Gavin, late of the House of Spencer and later still of the Gavin Shipping Company of the New World, hovered behind Katy. She sobbed into the phone in Esprit d’Chene’s Great Room, ignoring his attempts to reason with her and...well, preferring to pour out her distress to a living person. Wasn’t this a bloody dickens of a mess!
He’d tried to protect her from the sight in the pool, but the yard lights spotlighted the pink-tinged water. Determined to take a swim, poor Katy nearly dove straight in before she spied the body bumping against the ladder. Her curdling scream still echoed in his mind. Bloody hell. She could wake a coffin-enclosed corpse! Using senses developed through time, he listened to both sides of the phone conversation.
“Ohmigod!” Alice screamed. “What are you talking about?”
Katy collapsed in the chair beside the antique rolltop desk. The phone clunked from her hand, and she buried her face in the crook of one arm. More sobs. Damn, he never knew how to deal with crying women. He much preferred a feisty argument between the two of them about who actually had prior claim on the house.
“Katy! Katy, pick up the phone!” Alice shrilled.
Sir Gary waved his finger and nudged the receiver closer to Katy’s ear. After another frantic demand from the other end, Katy gulped and fumbled. The ghost manipulated the phone into her seeking fingers and sighed when she raised her head. Maybe Alice could shake Katy back to sensibility. Though a tiny thing, a blond, blue-eyed, perfectly mannered Southern Belle by birth and breeding, Sir Gary had experienced the core of Katy’s strength more than once.
“Katy!” Alice demanded. “Call nine-one-one!”
“I — he’s — oh, Alice! All the blood!" Katy moaned, a long, strangled sound that scurried up Sir Gary’s spine like icy fingers. He hadn’t been on the receiving end of a chill for decades. Instead, he’d chilled those still alive with just his presence.
“Listen,” Alice said. “Are you sure you weren’t sleepwalking? Like you did as a child?”
Sir Gary chuckled. The writer obviously hoped for a trick on Katy’s end — an attempt to make Alice get a move on. But this was real, not a ghostly trick.
“It’s no dream! Help me, Alice!”
“Katy, listen!” Alice demanded. “You have to call the police!”
“I — oh —" The phone dropped again, and Katy’s sobs escalated into a keening wail.
“Katy! Katy, pick up the damn phone!” Alice screamed.
No help for it. Sir Gary levitated the receiver. “Alice?”
“Who...Sir Gary?” Alice asked. “What’s going on? Is there really a body in the pool?”
“I’m afraid so,” he answered. “A quite messy one.”
“Katy needs to call the police. Is the person dead? Can you do anything to help?”
“I very much doubt it,” Sir Gary replied. “He’s well and truly dead." Violence and dead bodies didn’t faze him. He’d seen dozens in his life and death, been the perpetrator of more than he cared to recall when pirates attacked one of his ships. For now he’d protect the ladies from the grisly manner of death. He doubted Katy had noticed anything beyond the body and blood.
Alice muttered, “My God. How...what...?”
“Katy and I argued after you and she hung up,” the ghost explained. “Then she went off to bed in a snit, and I turned on the television in the Men’s Parlor. Later, I heard her in the kitchen and went to see if she might be over her...um...what do you call it in these times? Her time of the month irritation? She said she’d decided to have a drink by the pool, perhaps take a swim. Unfortunately, the drink’s shattered, and she could use it right now.”
Alice gritted, “Katy doesn’t suffer PMS. Tell her that I’m calling Jack.”
Sir Gary stared at Katy’s huddled figure. He doubted she’d hear him. “Alice is calling Jack,” he said as Alice muttered, “Where the hell’s my cell phone?”
A strange voice answered, “Ain’t that it? Beneath that voodoo book?”
“Thanks, Granny." A pause, then “Shit! The battery’s dead. Where’s my charger?”
The Granny voice answered, “I ain’t seen that. What’s going on?”
“A dead body in the pool at Esprit d’Chene. Katy’s an emotional wreck.”
The ghost heard drawers open and close as Katy snuffled an unladylike gargle and leaned back. Red-rimmed eyes searched the desk, and a wobbly hand tugged tissues from a box on the corner. Then she stared at Sir Gary. “Is Alice still on the phone?”
He nodded, repeating, “She’s trying to call someone named Jack on her cell phone.”
“Oh, God,” Katy moaned. “Jack’s her ex-husband. A cop.”
Wasn’t that the logical step? “She said we needed to call nine-one-one.”
“I — I can’t! Tell Alice to do it. Please.”
Before he could relay the request, Alice said, “I’ve got my cell phone plugged in. Get Katy back on the line!”
He murmured that information, but Katy shook her head and crushed a wad of tissue to her face. “You really should do as she asks,” Sir Gary insisted.
Reluctantly, Katy held out a hand. “Alice?” she gasped at the same time Sir Gary heard a faint, disgruntled “Hello,” a man’s voice, probably on that cell phone.
“Katy, stay on this line!” Alice demanded.
“This ain’t Katy,” the man mumbled. “Y’got the wrong number.”
“Jack!” Alice shouted. “Jack, don’t hang up! It’s Alice!" Too late. The other phone emitted a dial tone in place of Jack’s voice.
“Katy, listen to me,” Alice enjoined. “Don’t hang up. I’m getting Jack back on the line.”
“I guess that’s all right,” Katy breathed more than spoke, then louder, “Tell him to hurry.”
“I will — Jack? Jack, don’t hang up. It’s Alice.”
“Alice?” Jack grumbled. “What time is it? If you’re under one of your blasted deadlines and need a murder question answered, call me in the mornin’.”
“Jack, wake up. Katy’s on the other line. There’s a dead body at Esprit d’Chene.”
“What?" That woke him. Sir Gary heard sheets rustle. Alert now, Jack demanded, “Has she called the Jefferson cops?”
“No,” Alice told him. “She’s distraught. I’m trying to calm her down.”
“You sure this isn’t one of Katy’s nightmares?” he asked suspiciously.
“It’s real, Jack,” Alice said firmly. “You’ve got to get over there.”
“I’m on my way." He slammed down the phone and Alice continued, “Katy, sweetie, Jack’s coming. Hang in there. Is there someone closer you can call to stay with you?”
“I...I…don’t want anyone else here right now,” Katy said. “Just you. Hurry.”
“Do you have any idea who the person in the pool is?” Alice asked.
“No. Maybe, but...no. I — I didn’t look that close. He’s...it’s horrible! Please stay on the phone with me until Jack gets here.”
Miffed, Sir Gary glided out of the Great Room. Katy obviously preferred comfort from a distant, living voice.