Downright Dead

by Pamela Kopfler

  “Do you think your ghost will show up for his debut?” Thomas asked.

  Tru coughed.

  Holly sent him a stern look. “You never know when or if a ghost will show up, but you’ll get to see his handiwork on the show tonight.”

  “You got that right,” Nelda said.

  Holly joined Nelda at the back of the kitchen, partly to keep her company and partly so no one would see her reactions if the show ended up a flop.

  The show resumed with the séance in Holly Grove’s candlelit dining room and the medium calling the spirit of Burl Davis to make himself known. A few of the candles sputtered out. Everyone around the table eyed each other. Then Angel, the medium, announced his presence and invited him to speak through her. Instead, Burl’s voice came from Sylvia’s mouth, calling out to Holly.

  Gasps came from everyone around the table except Tru.

  Guess it’s not working for the skeptic. Lordy. If the show with a real ghost hadn’t made him a believer, how on earth was Holly going to do it without a ghost? But she couldn’t let that thought ruin tonight. She stood a little taller. Tonight, Holly Grove was a star.

  Holly turned her attention back to the show. Burl continued to speak through Sylvia but refused to say what his unfinished business was. Finally, Sylvia slumped against her chair and the medium told everyone the spirit had left the premises.

  The theme music played as the show resumed with interviews of the Deltas, Holly, Nelda, and the teenager, Matt, about his viral video of his encounter with the ghost. During the next commercial, everyone chatted about their fifteen minutes of fame and congratulated Holly on the show. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. She could have never bought the kind of publicity she’d get from tonight’s episode of Inquiring Minds. All she had to do was keep the legend of the ghost alive to secure her and Holly Grove’s future.

  The show ended with a wide view of Sylvia strolling across the front porch. “There is no doubt in my mind the Ghost in the Grove is real,” she said, as the camera zoomed in for a close-up. She lifted a perfectly plucked brow. “And now there is no doubt in yours.”

  Everyone stood and clapped, except Tru. But Holly didn’t care.

  “Y ’all, this is the best thing ever.” Holly swirled in a circle as rapid-fire flashes from Sam’s camera lit the room like a disco dance floor. She stopped and clasped her hands together over her chest. “Do you know what this means for Holly Grove? For all of us?”

  “We’re going to be on the map as more than a dot now,” Sam said. “And I’m going to put all of it in the Gazette.”

  The Deltas, Sam, and Nelda swarmed her with hugs and congratulations.

  Holly caught a glimpse of Tru sulking at the table. He had to be thinking he could never debunk “The Ghost in the Grove.” He probably hadn’t said a word during the show because he knew he couldn’t debunk any of it. Holly almost felt sorry for him. Almost. “Sazeracs for everyone!”

  Holly grabbed two shakers of the premixed cocktail from the refrigerator and added ice. She shook the mixture, then poured it in crystal lowball glasses for her guests. After everyone had their Sazerac, she raised her glass. “To the Ghost in the Grove. May he haunt forever.”

  “That was quite a show,” Thomas said, all smiles. “The only thing better would be to witness the ghost firsthand.”

  Holly’s high crashed down. No one would ever witness the ghost of her not-so-dearly-departed again. But she couldn’t worry about that. Millions saw the show. The seed had been planted and now when tourists came to visit that little seed would grow in their minds. Every shadow and sound would confirm what they wished to see. Holly Grove would always be haunted, thanks to Inquiring Minds.

  A loud, slow clap echoed off the beaded panel ceiling and cypress floors. Tru stood and walked her way with cocky swagger. “Bravo. Bravo. Bravo.”

  Uh-oh. Holly stood tall and faced him. There was no way he could debunk what they’d all seen.

  “Fiction at its best.” Tru clinked his glass to Holly’s.

  She curled her fingers in a death grip around the crystal lowball glass. “Fact.”

  Tru raised his glass and took a sip. “I could pick apart that staged haunting in five minutes, easy.”

  “Excuse me,” Holly said. “I was there. There was absolutely nothing staged in that show.”

  Tru stepped into her space. “Ghosts do not exist.”

  “Well then,” Holly lifted her chin a fraction but didn’t give an inch of ground. “You’re going to have to prove it.”

  “All in due time.” Tru stood so close she could smell the bourbon on his breath. “People like you profit off the gullible.”

  Holly swallowed hard. She was saving her home and business. Helping to revive a dying town. She wasn’t taking advantage of people. Was she?

  “You may be able to sucker these old geezers and the brainless who watch that D-rated television show into believing your place is haunted, but anyone with half a brain would see right through your ruse.”

  “Who you sayin’ is brainless?” Nelda asked, coming to Holly’s side.

  “Don’t take offense.” Tru looked down on Nelda like she was a bug. “It’s not your fault you’re suckered in by someone who profits from the unfortunate or the desperate.”

  Nelda’s nostrils flared like a bull ready to charge. “Don’t pay any attention to him,” Holly said, stepping in front of Nelda to face Tru.

  “That’s right.” Tru pushed his glasses up on his nose. “You don’t want them to know the truth because you’ll lose your gravy train.”

  Nelda did know, but she’d stuck up for Holly anyway and she loved her for it. The Deltas would always be mouths of the South, and Sam would print anything to sell papers. As much as she’d like to tell them the truth, she couldn’t. She needed them to believe. Her ugly secret churned in her gut.

  Tru pointed a finger in Holly’s face. “You use people.”

  “I do not.”

  “You use people like her.” He pointed to Nelda, then the rest of her guests. “And these defenseless old people to back up your lies, don’t you?”

  Holly shook her head. She wasn’t using them. Was she? Her chest heated.

  “All for money because you know no one comes back from the dead. You know it and you use the promise of something beyond the grave to make people believe life doesn’t end. Don’t you?”

  “No!” Holly screamed. “Burl did come back from the dead. He did. I swear he did.”

  “Then where is your ghost right now, huh?” Tru strutted in a circle and eyed the beaded board ceiling, the walls, and the cypress floors. He stopped inches in front of her face and glared down at her. “You’ve got the power. Call him up. Prove me wrong.”

  With each word his voice grew louder, drowning out the lie she had to defend. Holly blinked and stumbled backward. “You don’t understand. It doesn’t work like that.” She rubbed her hand across her collarbone where she knew red blotches congregated every time she feared she’d get caught in a lie.

  “No it doesn’t, because it can’t.” Tru glared at her as though she was a lowlife criminal.

  Thomas put his hand on Tru’s shoulder. “It’s only a show, man. Calm down.”

  Tru shook Thomas’s hand from his shoulder and got in Holly’s face.

  “It works by you suckering people into believing you.” Tru’s eyes narrowed into angry slits and his spittle peppered her face. “And you, Holly Davis, are a fake and a liar and—”

  A sharp slap sounded, and her hand stung before her mind caught up with her reflexes. Tru’s glasses skidded across the cypress floor and landed at Sam’s feet.

  Tru stood stunned, staring at her and holding his red face.

  “Get out!” Holly screamed.

  “My glasses.” Tru frantically looked around the room. “Where are my glasses?”

  “Right here.” Sam bent over to pick up the glasses, and his drink spilled all over them.

  Tru snatched his glasses from Sam and fr
antically dried them on his T-shirt. He looked back at Holly. “Look what you’ve done! Are you nuts?”

  “Yeah.” Maybe she was, but she couldn’t stand to hear one more word from him. Had his words hit too close to home? She widened her stance and pointed to the door. “Leave before I call the sheriff.”

  Tru put his glasses back on and glared at Holly. “Yeah, why don’t you do that so I can press charges for assault.”

  “You deserved it and worse,” Holly said. “Now leave.”

  Tru stood like a linebacker in the middle of her kitchen. “Tell the cop.”

  “Look.” Thomas stepped between them. “I think you are both overreacting a bit here. Can’t you work something out without calling the police?”

  “Uh-huh,” Nelda said. “You know we had a little trouble with your last run-in with the police?”

  Holly folded her arms. “I want him out of here.”

  “Fine.” Tru mocked her crossed arms. “As soon as the cops come.”

  “I’ll get the sheriff to evict you.” Holly marched toward Tru and wagged her finger at him. “Read the fine print on your reservation.”

  Thomas held them apart. “How about we don’t call the police and Tru here goes to his room to cool off?”

  Tru gave a smart-aleck grin. “Read the fine print on the Inquiring Minds contract. I hear you have to honor the option clause. You can’t kick me out.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The nerve of that guy—calling her a liar to her face. Holly fumed as she passed Tru’s room the next morning. She stuffed the dirty sheets from Thomas’s room into a basket then tugged her “Domestic Diva” T-shirt back into place with gusto.

  Liar? Lordy. Technically speaking, she wasn’t lying. She’d had a ghost. She just hadn’t told the whole truth, and she’d have to live with that. She wasn’t sure she could live with Tru through shooting the follow-up Inquiring Minds episode. If she couldn’t kick him out, how could she make him want to leave?

  Nelda thumbed back to the Audubon suite at the other end of the hall. “You want me to help you clean up his royal-pain-in-the-rumpus’s room?”

  Holly would rather take a beating than clean up after him, but she had to. Or did she? Maybe a little reverse Southern hospitality. “Mr. Royal-Pain-in-the-Rumpus doesn’t deserve our Southern hospitality.”

  “I can’t say I blame ya.” Nelda ambled toward Tru’s room. “But he’s payin’ for a room.”

  “He won’t get clean sheets or so much as a washcloth out of me, not that a slob like him would care.” Holly picked up the laundry basket and her cleaning caddy. “He’s not even getting toilet paper.” Holly thumbed her chest. “I deserve some respect in my own home and I’m going to get it.”

  “Humph.” Nelda leveled an eye at Holly. “What if ya don’t?”

  “No cleaning service is just a start.” Holly cocked her head to the side and gave a sly grin. How could she jack up his room? “Remember when we had plumbing trouble a while back?”

  “Which time?” Nelda scrunched up her brows. “The time the plumber found a pair of panties stoppin’ up the toilet in the Longfellow suite or the time the water pressure was more like a dribble in the Jackson suite, or—”

  “All of them.” Holly gave a wicked grin. “I see some serious problems ahead for Tru’s level of comfort in his suite here at Holly Grove. Of course, I’ll apologize profusely and offer the only room I have left.”

  Nelda shoved a hand on her generous hip. “You gonna put him out in the woods in Abe’s cabin?”

  “Or he can stay at the hotel about thirty minutes down the road.” Holly shrugged. “The farther away the better.”

  “Can’t say I blame ya.”

  “Who would? Can you believe anyone could be so rude?”

  The Longfellow suite door swung open and Tru stepped into the hallway. He didn’t even give them a sideways glance as he put a DO NOT DISTURB sign on his door. “I hope you two can read. I expect privacy for my entire stay.” He flicked the sign.

  As he walked away from them, the sign dangled back and forth on the doorknob.

  So much for my bright idea to make him miserable by not cleaning his room or stopping up his toilet. Lame idea anyway, but I’m getting desperate.

  “Ya think he heard us?” Nelda whispered as Tru descended the stairs.

  Holly caught her lip between her teeth. “So what? He’s getting what he wants.” Holly winked at Nelda. “And deserves. No clean sheets, towels, or anything else.”

  “Ha! That man can’t hold on long without toilet paper ’cause he’s full of it.” Nelda slapped her thigh.

  Holly chuckled. “Let’s freshen up the attic rooms. The rest of Inquiring Minds will be checking in before we know it”

  “Yeah. That musty old house smell gets in there if no one stays there.” Nelda turned toward the attic stairs at the opposite end of the hall and stopped short. “Did you decide to move the mystery lady again?”

  Holly turned and followed Nelda’s gaze to the mystery portrait leaning against the wall. “How did that happen?”

  “Don’t you tell me you didn’t do that or you gonna give me the heebie-jeebies.”

  “I didn’t move it.”

  “You’ve got my skin crawlin’ now.” Nelda did a little shimmy. “That thing was crooked yesterday when I was dustin’. I straightened it out, too.” Nelda flattened her brow and shook her head. “I’m tellin’ you something ain’t right around here.”

  Lordy. All Holly needed was for Nelda to get spooked and leave with a house full of guests coming and the whole debunking thing going on. “Don’t get your panties in a knot. The wire strung across the frame probably gave way. It may have been on there a hundred years or more.” Holly marched to the painting and inspected the back of the frame.

  Nelda looked over Holly’s shoulder. “Ain’t broke, is it?”

  “No,” Holly said, puzzled.

  “It sure as shootin’ didn’t jump off that wall on its own.” Nelda glanced over her shoulder as if to check to see if anyone was there. “If it ain’t Burl, God rest his soul, maybe we got another ghost. You’d tell me if we did, wouldn’t you?”

  “If we did, I’d see him just like I saw Burl.” Wouldn’t I? Could there be another spirit roaming around Holly Grove and her not know it? Surely not. “I bet all that banging Mackie’s been doing on the widow’s walk jarred the portrait crooked and then off the hanger. That’s the only logical explanation.”

  “Ain’t nothin’ logical ’bout ghosts.”

  “A ghost didn’t do that. Believe me, if ever I wanted to have a ghost, it’s now, so he could shut up that royal-pain-in-the-rumpus.”

  Nelda grinned. “You got that right.”

  “Wait just a pea-pickin’ minute.” Holly paced to Tru’s door. “You just gave me a great idea.”

  Holly fished out her keys from her pocket and stood in front of Tru’s door.

  “Tru was right.” Nelda pointed at the sign. “You can’t read. Girl, trouble is your middle name and you’re askin’ for it.”

  “No. Tru’s asking for it, and I’m going to give it to him.”

  “What you gonna do in there?” Nelda asked, leaning over Holly’s shoulder. “Stop up his toilet?”

  Holly glanced back at Nelda. “You gave me a better idea.”

  “Yeah.” Nelda’s eyes widened. “What was it?”

  “I need to set the mood for ghosting.” Holly held her palm out for Nelda. “Give me a hairpin.”

  Nelda pulled a black hairpin out of her hair. “I don’t even want to know what you’re gonna do with that, and I don’t want it back.”

  “I’m going to leave him a message or two from our ghost.” Holly inserted the key in the lock.

  “That ghost we don’t have, right?”

  Holly unlocked the door. “Yep.”

  “You gonna make that trouble on your own.” Nelda balked at the doorway. “Nobody’s gonna accuse me of trespassin’.”

  “Fine.” Holly huffed
. “You go stand at the stairs and tell me if he’s coming.”

  Nelda cocked an eye at Holly. “You want me to be an accessory to trespassin’?”

  “I’m not trespassing. This is my house.” Holly swung the door open.

  Nelda whistled.

  The bedsheets were tangled on the floor. Wadded-up wet towels filled a corner in the room. The duffel bag looked like it had exploded. Dingy clothing lay all over the floor along with candy wrappers, chip bags, soda cans, and gum wrappers. And where had he gotten pizza?

  “There’s messy and there’s pigsty messy.” Nelda shook her head. “No wonder he didn’t want us in his room. He ought to be ashamed.”

  “If he is, that means he probably didn’t hear us talking about stopping up his toilet.”

  Nelda took her cleaning caddy and pretended to dust the stair rail. She gave Holly an all-clear nod.

  Holly rushed into the bathroom and turned on the hot water, full blast, then closed the door. While that ran, she dashed back to the bedroom and opened the armoire. She clamped the hairpin over the hinge and closed the door. It swung back open. Yes! It worked. She pumped her fist.

  What else could she do? A draft from the floor-to-ceiling windows dusted her shoulders. If she opened the top of the double-hung window, he may not notice, but it’d get mighty cold in there after midnight when the temperatures dropped to the low forties. Holly flung open the lace drapes, then tugged on the top frame until a six-inch gap let the air in near the top of the twelve-foot ceiling. She flipped the thermostat to OFF. Oh, yeah. He’ll wake up in a frosty room and everyone knows it gets cold in the presence of the dead. Or under the right circumstances. She dusted her hands together.

  Holly dashed back to the bathroom. A fog coated the small medicine cabinet mirror. Perfect. She turned off the water. With one finger, she scrawled a message on the mirror. Go home or else.

  She stood back and admired her handiwork. Next time Tru shaved and fogged up the mirror, her ghostly message would appear again. One way or another, she would make him believe. She had to.

  A knock came from the door.

  Holly jumped. The knock was too far away to be at the bathroom door. She eased the bathroom door open.