Downright Dead

by Pamela Kopfler

  “You do realize you can’t hold these people here without charging them with a crime,” Thomas said.

  “Yes, sir. I do. Unfortunately, or fortunately, the only way out of here at least for today is by air or water. Unless there is a medical emergency, we are not obligated to evacuate you from these premises. I’ve checked with Holly and I believe you were all scheduled to stay here through the weekend. So, this won’t change your plans.

  “But what if we don’t want to stay here?” Angel said. “It’s not safe.”

  “Are you saying you suspect foul play with these accidents?” Buster asked.

  She shrank back into her seat.

  Buster motioned to Holly. “Would you like to say a few words?”

  Holly pushed off the wall. “First, I’m deeply sorry for the loss of Bob and Tru. This kind of thing has never happened here before, and I hope it never happens again. I apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you and I’ll comp your rooms.”

  Buster hitched up his pants. “Nelda, Miss Alice, and Sam are free to go. They were not in this establishment when these tragedies occurred and therefore cannot add to the investigation.”

  “We can’t leave either unless we want to swim,” Miss Alice said.

  Sam stood and snapped another photo. “I’m staying. At my age though, I could be the next one to drop dead.”

  “You’re all dismissed except Holly. I’ll send my deputy to fetch you when it’s time to take your statement.”

  Oh, crapola. I’m first.

  * * *

  “For the record, my name is Holly Lane Davis until I can legally change my name back to my maiden name.” She took her place across from Buster at the dining room table again. There was no way he could suspect her this time. She’d stay cool and calm. Ahem . . . You have nothing to hide.

  Buster scribbled across his clipboard. “Don’t you find it odd that there have been two suspicious deaths at your place of business over the last two days?”

  “Considering there had only been one in the 150 years prior, I think Holly Grove is a pretty safe place.” She smiled just to get at Buster.

  “I understand the deceased had a peanut allergy.” Buster held his beady eyes on her. “Were you aware of that?”

  “All of my guests fill out a registration form, and there’s a box to check if they have any allergies. If they do, they write them down in the comments.” She straightened in her chair. “I checked my records and Bob did not check the allergy box.”

  “I see.” Buster cleared his throat. “Do you have peanut butter here at Holly Grove?”

  “Of course.” Holly huffed. “I keep it on hand to serve children if they don’t like our regular meal.”

  “And did you have any minors as guests yesterday?”

  Holly tried an upward glance and mentally counting to ten like she’d seen Angel do earlier. It didn’t work. “Buster, you know everyone here, have interviewed them all, and have a copy of their registration cards. You know there are no children registered here.” She flopped back against her chair.

  Buster tapped his pencil against the table. “Just answer the questions. Did you serve peanut butter last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even though there were no children present and you knew the deceased had a peanut allergy.”

  Holly pointed to his clipboard. “You need to go back and fix that. I said I didn’t know he had a peanut allergy because he didn’t put it on his registration card.”

  He scrubbed his eraser over the form. “Why did you serve peanut butter?”

  “Because we were still up at two o’clock in the morning because of what happened last night. We served PB&Js cut in cute little triangles and hot chocolate, too, but no one was allergic to that.”

  “Did the deceased eat a, um, PB&J?”

  “He did not, and that’s the end of this. I don’t know if he had a nutty candy bar in his room or what. But when he told me he was allergic, I offered to serve him a different sandwich. He said he wasn’t hungry.”

  “So, you did know he had a peanut allergy?”

  Lordy. If I counted to one hundred it wouldn’t be enough to keep my cool. “I knew when I offered him a PB&J and not before.”

  “Who else knew he had a peanut allergy?”

  “Everyone here.” She hesitated. “Wait. Except Angel and Jake. They weren’t there for the PB&Js.”

  Tru’s head rose through the walnut dining table. Holly shivered. She would never get used to seeing that creepy stuff.

  Tru thumped the side of Buster’s ear.

  A giggle slipped past Holly’s lips.

  Buster swatted at his ear. “Is something funny here?”

  Holly shook her head.

  Tru yanked on Buster’s gun with all his might and managed to pull the snap loose.

  Buster felt for his gun and secured the snap.

  “I could do this all day long,” Tru said.

  Holly snorted.

  “What?” Buster flattened his brow out.

  “Are we finished here?” she asked.

  “Not quite.” Buster reached for his pencil and Tru thumped it away.

  Buster watched it roll across the table. “What’s going on here?”

  Holly lifted her shoulders. “You’ve heard Holly Grove is haunted, haven’t you?”

  “Right.” Buster smirked and closed the cover on his clipboard. “I think we’re done here.”

  Holly saluted him and stood.

  “But I’m not finished with him.” Tru thumped his ear again. “That’s for getting me all riled up thinking my good friend Holly did me in.”

  “Oh, so you believe me now, huh?” No sooner than she said it she realized she’d talked to Tru out loud. Crapola.

  “I didn’t say I believed you.” Buster picked up his clipboard. “And just between you and me, you’re going down for Mr. Stalwort’s murder. It’s just a matter of time before I connect the dots.”

  Tru knocked Buster’s clipboard out of his hand.

  “I’m in no mood for this. I’ve been robbed,” Tru said. “Bob is not here, and Burl says he’s not with the saints upstairs. That means he went where I was before.” Tru shrugged. “You know. This idiot needs to figure out that Bob pushed me off the roof.” Tru glanced back at Holly. “Bob’s in Hell now. I checked. But I’m still here. And I don’t know why. You’ve got to help me.

  Tru’s image flickered just before he disappeared.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Holly’s stomach rumbled. How long had it been since she’d eaten anything?

  She opened the refrigerator door and noticed a pile of bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits. Thomas. How thoughtful. He was just too busy in the kitchen to notice when all the drama was going on earlier. She pulled out a breakfast sandwich and unwrapped the plastic.

  Rhett sat, tail wagging, ready to pounce on any crumbs.

  “It ain’t fit to eat,” Nelda said, as she walked out of the pantry.

  “Rhett begs to differ.”

  “That man moved darned near everything in my kitchen.”

  “He was just trying to be helpful.” Holly took a bite of her bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit. The savory flavor satisfied her hunger. “I think he likes to do things for other people.”

  “Now, how would you know that?” Nelda shoved a well-worn cookie sheet under the cabinet. “You don’t know that man.”

  “You’re right, but I think I might like him if I knew him.” She took another bite of her sandwich. Unless, of course he’s the murderer. She had to stop thinking that way. She needed facts.

  “I’m tellin’ you, he’s not what ya think he is.” Nelda pulled down the cabinet panel that hid the dishwasher. “I haven’t lived on this earth for sixty-five years and not learned how to size a man up.” She grabbed a stack of blue willow plates and started loading them on the shelf above the dishwasher. “And that man does not measure up.”

  “You didn’t like him from the first time you laid ey
es on him.” Holly walked over to Nelda and propped her hip against the counter. “It’s not like you to be this way about someone.”

  “That’s why you need to pay attention.” Nelda wagged a spatula at Holly before stuffing it in a drawer.

  A chunk of egg fell out of the breakfast sandwich and Rhett pounced on it. “I think it’s pretty good, too,” Holly whispered.

  “I heard that.” Nelda huffed and carried a large pot to the pantry.

  Rhett tore off for his favorite view from the window. He pranced and pounced, then turned to her and whined.

  “What’s the matter, boy?” Holly crossed the kitchen to the window beside the planter’s table.

  Jake hurled a big stick in the air for Dog, and she shagged across the yard to fetch it.

  “Want to go play, Rhett?” Holly snagged another bacon, cheese, and egg sandwich, then headed out the door.

  “How about a sandwich?” she asked Jake as Rhett and Dog played.

  He took the sandwich and bathed her in his warm stare. “Thanks.”

  If Jake stayed around, would he be considerate and helpful like Thomas or fall into the trap of indifference?

  Dog rolled over on her back and Rhett jumped over her. “Wow. That’s a big jump for a little dog,” Jake said.

  “You know, Mackie was worried about Dog not eating enough.” Holly noticed eight little teats mounding up on Dog’s belly. “You don’t suppose she’s pregnant, do you?”

  Jake jerked his focus from Dog to Holly. “Who?”

  “Dog.” She pointed to her belly. “Look.”

  Jake eyed Rhett. “You don’t think . . . ?”

  “We’ll see soon enough.”

  * * *

  “That hammering is about to drive me to drink,” Holly said. “With three of them up there, the widow’s walk should be up to code lickety-split. I can’t imagine how loud that is over the attic rooms.”

  “Well, poor old Bob can’t hear it. God rest his soul.” Nelda crossed herself. “I’m glad I was out in the honeymoon suite when he passed or I wouldn’t have gotten a wink of sleep.”

  “You needed the rest.”

  “You got that right.” Nelda slathered mayonnaise on toasted French bread for roast beef po’boys. “The only way I would have slept any better is if I’d had a honeymoon partner with me in that king size.”

  “Like you tell me, it’s never too late.” Holly lined the French bread with sliced tomatoes and shredded lettuce. “How’s that?”

  “Good.” Nelda grinned. “That’s ’cause you didn’t have to cook.”

  “You know, you’ve got lots of stuff frozen in the freezer that I can heat up. You don’t have to stay here since Buster said you could go. I’d really like you to go home and rest.”

  Nelda shrugged. “Don’t know how I’m goin’ to do that. The water’s high and my car is broke.”

  “Call your nephew to pick you up on the other side of the road. Mackie has a pirogue that he can use to paddle you across the high water.”

  “What ya gonna tell Angel and the rest of ’em?” Nelda piled debris roast beef over the tomatoes and shredded lettuce. “You know they’re bustin’ to get out of here.”

  “Yeah, but Buster said you could go and I want you to rest.” And after what Tru did to Angel’s room, she couldn’t chance him putting on a show in front of Nelda. She’d never come back to Holly Grove.

  “I could use a change of clothes.”

  “It’s settled then.” Holly wrapped a po’boy in butcher paper. “As soon as we bring these po’boys up to the men, you’ll call your nephew and make arrangements.”

  “Is Thomas up there hammerin’?” Nelda asked.

  Holly nodded.

  “I don’t know.” Nelda screwed up her nose. “I may just go take a nap in the honeymoon suite. I might dream me up a man this time.”

  “Are you afraid to leave your kitchen with Thomas?” Holly asked.

  “You wouldn’t believe the mess he made in my favorite little skillet. Burnt-on crud that smelled like an ashtray and grass.” Nelda elbowed Holly. “And not the kind the Deltas smoke. The kind you mow.” She shook her head. “I hear they eat funny out in California, but even Rhett wouldn’t eat anything that smelled that bad.”

  “Okay,” Holly said. “Don’t say I didn’t try to bust you out of here.” Holly loaded the sandwiches on a tray then blew Nelda a kiss. “Sleep tight in the quiet.”

  One way or another, Tru would be moving on tomorrow, according to what Angel had told her about the Devil’s roll call. Somehow, she had to break that news to him, because Burl neglected to share the fine print on the trade. It expires after three days, and she wasn’t sure how he’d react.

  * * *

  “Hungry?” Holly said when she reached the widow’s walk.

  “Your cooking or Nelda’s?” Jake asked, only half joking.

  “Nelda’s.” She put the tray on top of a piece of plywood resting on two sawhorses. “Dig in.”

  Mackie, Thomas, and Jake washed their hands under the spigot of a five-gallon water cooler while she checked out their progress.

  The Plexiglas panel wouldn’t be noticeable from the street, and it blended in pretty well up here. She’d almost decided against it because it wasn’t period, but neither were four-foot railings. She sighed. If she’d known what she knew now, she would have put up barbed wire.

  “Oh, my.” Thomas sopped up the gravy with what was left of his French bread. “I’ve missed roast beef po’boys so much. Do you think you can talk Nelda out of the recipe? I know she won’t give it to me.”

  “What is it with you two?” Holly propped her elbows on the plywood.

  “Yeah, man.” Mackie wiped a drip of gravy from his gray beard. “Nelda loves everybody. Especially if they like to eat.” He pointed a greasy finger at Thomas. “And looks like you do.”

  Thomas gave a “don’t care” shrug, but his expression didn’t match.

  Holly caught the glint of the sun reflecting off something metal behind Thomas. “My telescope! You’ve mounted it.”

  “It’s perfectly level too. You ought to be able to read your horoscope in the stars with that thing,” Mackie said.

  Wind rippled over the butcher paper and remnants of po’boys. Tru materialized right about where he had gone over the edge. “A little too late for me, huh?”

  A sour feeling settled in her gut. She had been so excited about fixing up the widow’s walk and sharing it with everyone, but now it felt wrong. As if she was disrespecting the dead.

  For once, she wanted to talk to him in front of people. To explain how she felt.

  “What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

  Holly sighed. “I’m so glad to get this place up to code and the telescope set up, but I feel a little like we’re dancing on Tru’s grave.

  “That’s not going to happen.” Tru rubbed his fingers along the edge of the Plexiglas. “I donated my body to science.”

  Holly sighed. “There has to be a way to make this right.”

  Tru waggled what was left of his eyebrows. “You could name it the Tru View.”

  “I just got this beautiful idea.” She clasped her hands together like she was praying. “We could name it the Tru View.” She gave a Vanna White flourish toward the door on the cupola. “And the bronze plaque would be right here.”

  Tru dug his sooty loafer into the decking. “I’d like that a lot.”

  * * *

  The knock on the front door of Holly Grove came at two o’clock in the afternoon.

  Holly opened the door to the bluebird day. Buster stood on the front steps with his hat in his hand. “Please step outside.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Pardon me?”

  “Please step outside.” Buster rested his hand on his gun.

  “What’s going on here?” Thomas asked from behind her.

  “Step aside, sir,” Buster said as he grabbed Holly’s arm and pulled her outside. He spun her around.

  Cold steel
circled her wrists and the solid click of metal on metal sounded. “Are you arresting me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He spun her around to face him. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Truman Jeremiah Stalwort, the third.”

  “Don’t say a word, Holly.” Thomas came out on the porch with them. “I’ve got a good lawyer and I’ll fly him here on the first available flight, or even better, I’ll get Chris to fly him here.”

  Buster’s smug mug stayed in a tight line. “Are you finished, Mr. Sinclair?”

  “What if I’m not?” he said.

  “I’ve got another set of cuffs.” Buster fished a card out of his pocket and started reading to Holly. “You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Do you understand?”

  Holly nodded.

  “I didn’t hear you,” Buster said.

  “Yes.” A slight quiver crept into her voice. Her stomach churned like a Ferris wheel.

  “Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand?”

  She nodded then quickly said, “Yes.”

  “You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Mercy. How can this be happening?

  “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” How much will this cost? Who’ll take care of Rhett and Holly Grove?

  “If you decide to answer questions now without an attorney present, you will still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” She couldn’t wait for an attorney to come all the way from California. Can my old roommate do criminal law? If she can, would she do it pro bono or on credit? How can I run a B&B from jail? What will this do to my business?

  “Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?”

  “No, she’s not.” Jake glowered down at Buster. “I hope you know what you’re doing, because if you don’t . . .”