Downright Dead

by Pamela Kopfler

For the last time, you’re not worth killing to me.”

  “Someone thought so.”

  Holly blew out an exasperated sigh. “What good would it do for me to kill you since I’m stuck with you, anyway?” Holly eyed Tru. “Temporarily.”

  “Good point.” A little ash fell from Tru’s hair as he scratched his head.

  “First, we need to lay down a few rules if you want me to help you.”

  “I don’t know why I need your help. No one can see me and I can go anywhere and listen to any conversation. I’ll have this figured out in no time.”

  “No one can hear you either, except me.” Holly said. “You know that, right? No one but me saw you or heard you scream before you got sucked down to you-know-where.”

  He screwed his lips to the side and looked away.

  “You’ve got to work with me if you want your side of the story told, so you can go to . . . wherever.”

  Tru nodded.

  “These are the rules.” Holly counted them off on her fingers. “I will not talk to you in public. Ever.” Lesson learned from her last ghostly encounter. “You will never go in my bathroom when I’m in there.”

  Tru bugged his eyes out. “I’m not that kind of creeper.”

  “Just sayin’.” Another lesson from experience. “You will not mess with Nelda or Rhett in any way.”

  “If they can’t hear or see me, how can I mess with them?”

  “Just don’t.” Holly shoved a hand on her hip. “It’s a rule.”

  “I won’t bother Nelda unless she killed me.”

  “She didn’t.” Holly sighed. “You landed in front of her car with her in it.”

  Tru shook his head. “Good alibi, if it’s true.”

  “You do realize you are dead because you didn’t believe me in the first place.”

  Tru kicked his head back. “Oh, yeah.”

  “And most important, you will do what I say.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “It may be very hot where you’re going.”

  A knock sounded on the door.

  Holly glared at Tru. “Follow the rules.”

  She crossed the bedroom and cracked the door open.

  Six feet of delicious Jake stood with his arm resting on her door frame. “Just checking on you.”

  She yanked him inside. “I’ve got proof someone pushed Tru off the widow’s walk.” She winced. “Sort of.”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, you might not be able to see him, but you did see Burl just before he, you know . . .”

  Jake tilted his head to the side and crinkled his brow. “See who?”

  “Never mind. Just look.” She whirled around and pointed to the empty room.”

  Tru was gone. Crapola.

  Jake followed her gaze, then looked back at her. “Um, am I missing something?”

  “Tru. He’s back.” She waved her hands as though she could erase what she’d said. “I mean he’s a ghost like Burl.”

  Jake cut his eyes to where she’d pointed. “He’s here now?”

  “No.” She walked to where Tru had stood and could feel the chill of his presence. “He was right here, but he, uh . . .” She flopped her hands by her side. “It’s a ghost thing.”

  “Ghost thing?” Jake’s brows slanted over his chocolate eyes. At least this time he didn’t think she was crazy.

  “Burl used to just fade out or disappear all the time. He didn’t know why or he didn’t tell me if he did.” She wagged a finger at Jake. “But I’m telling you Tru was here.”

  “As a ghost?”

  Holly nodded her head.

  “Déjà vu.” He scratched his head. “What is it with you and ghosts?”

  “I don’t know, right? Be careful what you wish for.” She sighed. “I thought Burl was a one-off thing, but maybe once you see one ghost you can see them all.” She shoved her hands in the air. “I don’t know, but Tru told me he did not fall off the widow’s walk. He was pushed.”

  “Who did it?”

  “He didn’t see the person. He said someone pushed him from behind.” She shoved her hands on her hips. “It was not an accident.”

  “Oh, boy.”

  “We’ve got to figure out who did it.”

  “We?” Jake shifted his weight.

  “You know I can’t tell anyone Tru’s ghost told me someone pushed him until I have proof. What did you find out?”

  Jake flashed his jacket open, showing his St. Agnes Parish Sheriff’s Deputy badge. “What do you think?”

  “How’d you get that and why?” Holly asked, staring at the badge.

  “I’ve got my ways of weaseling my way to where I need to be.” He melted her with his chocolate gaze. “Part of my skill set.”

  Among other things.

  “The judge deputized me since they’re short-handed and to keep an eye on Buster. I’m the newest deputy for the St. Agnes Parish Sheriff ’s Department. Looks like I’m working undercover for you, sweetheart.” He winked at her. “I’m also here on official police business.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Buster sent me to escort you downstairs to give him your official statement.”

  “Now?”

  Jake nodded. “And I don’t think a voice from the grave is going to help your case.”

  “Case?” Holly swallowed hard. “He doesn’t really think . . .”

  “He found your missing slipper on the widow’s walk.”

  “Mercy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “State your name for the record.” Buster said, sitting across the table from Holly in her dining room.

  “Good grief.” Holly waved him off. “You’ve known me since kindergarten.”

  “Legal name,” he said, stone-faced.

  “Holly Lane Davis.” She squirmed on the embroidered chair. “I’ve already answered questions once. I really need to take care of my guests.” And figure out which one is a murderer. Mercy.

  “This won’t take long,” he said, pencil in hand hovering over a clipboard.

  Wind from the storm outside rattled the windows. Would the rain ever stop? She rubbed her arms against the chill coming in with the weather.

  Buster glanced outside. “Coming in from the north. That’s gonna push water in some low-lying places.” He pushed a button on a radio clipped to his shoulder. “404 to dispatch. Any calls about more flooding?”

  The radio crackled and a female voice spit out a few numbers and garbled words.

  The gasolier over the table swayed a fraction. Mercy. She hadn’t seen it do that since the last hurricane. The medallion around the base of the fixture bowed.

  Two well-worn loafers bled through the medallion, followed by blue jeans and the rest of Tru Stalwort. His shoes, which had been to Hades and back, touched down on the Queen Anne walnut table that every generation in her family had gathered around for meals. He really, really can’t stay here.

  Tru held his hands palms up, out to his sides, and bobbed his head. “How cool is this?”

  She realized her mouth hung open and she closed it.

  A voice came into her consciousness. “Are you willfully ignoring my questions?”

  Holly snapped her attention to Buster. “Huh? I mean . . . I’m sorry. My mind must have been on something else.” Or someone. How could she carry on a conversation with this sideshow?

  “Did you think the widow’s walk was unsafe?” Buster asked.

  “I-uh,” She stared at Tru as he passed his hand through the gasolier.

  “This part of being dead is awesome. Physics is way wrong,” Tru said, whipping his finger back and forth through a dangling crystal on the gasolier.

  Until I get my hands on him. She motioned with her eyes to get off the table.

  He tiptoed around the votives on the table and squatted in front of Buster, then waved his hand in front of his face.

  “Wow,” Tru drew the word out in a long breath. “You’re right. He can’t see me.”

  Just ign
ore him. “I’m sorry, Buster. What did you say?”

  “At the scene of the . . .” He hesitated and eyed Holly. “Accident.”

  “Accident? You mean murder!” Tru whipped his head around to Holly, and soot peppered out of his red mop of hair, then disappeared as it fell. “Tell him!”

  Rule number one. Do not talk to him in public. Holly clenched her jaw. And I won’t pay attention to his temper tantrum either.

  Buster tapped his pencil against the walnut dining table as though waiting for her to say something. He huffed. “Accident is what the judge called it and we’ll go with that unless proven otherwise.”

  It sounded like Buster still wanted to prove otherwise. How could she persuade him he was right about the murder but it wasn’t her? She couldn’t. At least not yet.

  Tru slammed his fist on the table but it sunk into the surface. He lost his balance and fell right through the table.

  Holly covered her mouth to hide her grin. Tru had a lot to learn about being a ghost, but she had to admit his skills were progressing faster than Burl’s had.

  She nodded at Buster to keep from saying something stupid such as Tru’s ghost had told her he was pushed off the widow’s walk. If she knew Buster, he’d have her locked up at the St. Agnes Clinic until they could transfer her to a padded room because she was obviously out of her ever-lovin’ mind. And that was the best-case scenario. Her slipper put her on the widow’s walk around the time of Tru’s murder, and that’s all Buster could see or understand right now. He gave parking tickets for one inch of a bumper over the yellow parking line. He couldn’t see past the obvious.

  Tru pushed through the surface of the table and waded out of it. “Aren’t you going to tell him? He can help us figure out what coward did this to me.”

  The sooner she got out of that room, the sooner she could explain to Tru why she couldn’t push for a murder investigation right now, not that he’d understand. At least, he’d be aware.

  “I took several photographs of the warning signs you had on the door to the widow’s walk. Why did you feel they were necessary, and when did you put them up?”

  Is he setting me up for something? “When Mackie fell through the decking the other day, I knew it wasn’t safe. I put the signs up after I caught Tru smoking a cigar up there.”

  “Come on.” Tru huffed. “You made that rule up. If I could smoke on the balcony, why couldn’t I smoke on the widow’s walk? Open air. Same thing.” Tru tossed a look at Buster. “And why does he care?”

  “But you’ve lived in this house your entire life and never felt it was dangerous, right?” Buster said.

  “Of course not.” Holly did her best to ignore Tru as he looked over Buster’s shoulder at his clipboard. “I used to play with my dolls up there.”

  Tru rubbed his chin. “Want to know what he’s writing?”

  “After you converted to a B&B, you weren’t concerned your guests would wander up there and fall off?”

  She nodded at Tru.

  “So you did know the danger?” Buster jotted something down.

  “No.” I wasn’t nodding at you. Mercy.

  “He wrote negligence,” Tru said.

  The very idea! She sat up on the edge of her chair. “Look, none of my guests knew the widow’s walk was up there until I renovated the attic. When I added two more guest suites up there they could see the door at the end of the stairs. Before then, they would have had to go through the attic.” She cocked an eyebrow. “That was a hazard. Now that you mention it, I did find two little old ladies rummaging through the attic once. They didn’t even know what they were looking for. They just thought they may see something interesting.” Holly gave a weak smile. “It never crossed my mind that anyone would go up there.”

  “When did you decide it was dangerous?” Buster asked.

  “It wasn’t dangerous if you watched where you walked, and I did,” Tru said in Buster’s ear, then shook his head and paced around the table. “Unless someone sneaked up behind you and pushed you off. That is not an accident.”

  “When the inspector visited last month to give me a permit to renovate the widow’s walk for stargazing. I thought it would be a draw for guests if I installed a telescope up there. He told me I needed a higher railing to meet the public code and a handrail on the stairway up to it. I hired Mackie to build a Plexiglas barrier at the right height. Then I found out the floor had a rotten spot in it when Mackie fell through it. That’s when I knew it was dangerous.”

  “I see,” Buster said. “And when did you put up the warning signs.”

  “After I caught Tru smoking a cigar up there.” She stood. “I really need to check on my guests.” And get Tru out of here.

  Buster pointed to her chair. “Not before?”

  Holly shook her head but didn’t sit. “Can I go now?”

  “Just a few more questions,” Buster said. “Did you feel that posting that notice protected you if anyone fell from the roof?”

  He’s setting a trap, and I’m not going to fall for it. “No. It protected them.” She sighed. “Or it was supposed to.” She cut an eye at Tru. “Some folks don’t follow rules.”

  “Some rules are stupid,” Tru said.

  Buster made a few more notes. “Did you tell him the area was restricted?”

  “Yes, but he went back up there multiple times until he . . .” She glanced at Tru.

  “Fell?” Buster said, scribbling on his clipboard.

  She didn’t confirm. Holly gave herself a virtual pat on the back. She’d carefully made it through the interview without telling one lie.

  Tru jabbed a finger toward Buster. “Tell him someone pushed me. He’s a cop. You know, the kind that actually solves crimes.”

  While Buster wasn’t looking she held one finger up to Tru for rule number one. I will never talk to you in public.

  Tru rolled his eyes. “You are purposely misleading that cop, and you’re supposed to be working on telling the truth. Ha! I know you can go to jail for doing that to the FBI. Whose side are you on?”

  Buster shifted in his chair but didn’t look up from his clipboard. “Did you or anyone else see him fall?”

  The sneaky little devil still thinks I did it because he found my flippin’ slipper. If she could convince him he’s right about the murder but not about her, he could help her figure out who really did it. How could she do that? She eyed Tru. Buster would never believe Tru’s ghost told her.

  “Didn’t you talk to Nelda? He landed right in front of her car. When I heard her screaming and he wasn’t on the widow’s walk, I knew what had happened.”

  “I’ve taken her statement.” Buster stole a quick glance at Holly, then fidgeted with his pencil. “Did you see him fall?”

  “No.” She drew the word out for emphasis.

  Buster hooked his arm over the back of the chair as though he had all day to hear what she had to say.

  “I smelled cigar smoke on my balcony and I knew he was up there. I was on my way to make him come inside when I heard the thuds. When I got up there, I heard Nelda scream. I looked over the side and saw Tru on the ground.”

  “Is that when you lost your slipper? Since you were only wearing one slipper when I drove up, it’s logical the mate we found on the widow’s walk belongs to you, correct?”

  “You!” Tru screamed and shoved a blackened finger at her face. “You pushed me!”

  Holly leaned back and sucked in a breath. Oh, boy. She shook her head. “He wasn’t on the widow’s walk when I got there,” she said, focusing on Buster and doing her best to ignore Tru, who looked like he was about to self-combust.

  “You suck at lying.” Tru kicked at the air. “And you’re supposed to help me. I don’t have a prayer.”

  “Are you interrogating me?”

  “No, ma’am.” He scribbled across his clipboard. “Just getting all the facts down for the accident report. I don’t believe for one minute that the victim fell off the widow’s walk.” Buster reared back on two le
gs of his chair. “But what I believe doesn’t count. Evidence does.”

  “What if I told you I knew for a fact Tru was murdered?”

  Buster’s chair wobbled and he waved his arms to keep from falling backward. The front chair legs came down with a clomp. He leaned forward and leveled a serious stare at her. “Are you making a confession?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Confession?” Holly stood up so fast she knocked over the Queen Anne armchair. She took a few steps back from Buster. “No way. All I’m saying is I believe someone pushed Tru off the widow’s walk, but it wasn’t me.” She lifted her right hand. “I swear.”

  “Says the women who’s trying to stop lying.” Tru turned to Buster and got on his knees. “Come on, man. Please. Arrest her.”

  Buster stood and yanked up his pants. “Unless you saw someone else making a getaway, you were the only one with opportunity.”

  “Now you’re talking.” Tru jumped to his feet.

  She glared at Tru. “But I wasn’t the only one with motive.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Tru banged his palm to his head. “I’ve seen enough TV to know it takes motive and opportunity. I exposed your scam. You are two for two. And guilty.”

  “It was dark,” Holly said, careful to keep her voice calm. “Someone could have hidden behind one of the chimneys.”

  Buster threw his pencil on the table. “If it wasn’t for the judge, I’d arrest you right now.”

  “Who’s this judge? What is this? Good-old-boy justice?” Tru looked at the ceiling. “Where’s that wannabe angel? This isn’t even close to a fair chance to keep from roasting for eternity.”

  Thunder rattled the house.

  Burl materialized beside Tru and grabbed him by his collar. “You called, bud?”

  “My work here is done, man.” Tru pointed at Holly. “She did it. Take her. Go make the deal and set me free.”

  “You think you’ve earned your get-out-of-Hell-free card just by pointing a finger?” Burl gave an exasperated sigh. “Come with me. We’ve got to talk.”

  Well, at least Burl believed her. There was no doubt in her mind Buster would arrest her if the judge hadn’t said it was an accident until proven otherwise.

  Holly tipped up her chin at Buster. “I’ve got nothing else to say to you without a lawyer.”