Downright Dead

by Pamela Kopfler

  “There it is!” Miss Alice pointed the revolver near Sylvia’s feet.

  Sylvia jumped out of her Holly Grove slippers and slammed the door, but Nelda stuck the broom in the gap and pried it open.

  Nelda jogged in swinging the broom with Miss Alice and Rhett behind her. “They’s a whole family of mice in here, and if we don’t kill ’em, they’ll be a hundred in a month.”

  Poor Rhett ran in circles. He knew they were after something and he wanted it, too.

  Holly clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing as she stood in the doorway.

  “Where is it?” Sylvia stood on a chair and frantically scanned the floor for a nonexistent mouse.

  Miss Alice pointed the toy gun under Sylvia’s perch and squinted. “I don’t see it. It must be going up the backside of the chair leg.”

  “There it is!” Nelda pointed to Sylvia’s feet.

  Sylvia launched off the chair like a long jumper and nearly ran Holly over getting out of there.

  Nelda doubled over holding her stomach and her laugh in, then lifted her hand to Miss Alice for a high five.

  Miss Alice slapped Nelda’s hand, then turned to Holly. “Is the Pope Catholic?”

  “Amen.” Holly raised her hands for her high fives from her accomplices.

  “Whew!” Nelda, said holding her side. “That hurts. I shoulda let that laugh out in the wild.”

  “I’m gonna go downstairs and make Miss Inquiring Minds a hot chocolate and tell her there’s still one or two mice kickin’ up here and y’all are gonna let us know when you get ’em all.”

  “That should buy us at least half an hour.” Miss Alice dropped her toy gun in her bottomless purse. “Did you find anything in Thomas’s room?”

  Holly pretended she didn’t hear Miss Alice. Should she tell the mouth of the South that Thomas stole the memory card that probably caused Tru’s murder? She crawled across the floor with her head buried behind the drapes. Maybe she’d get lucky again and find something in the hem. So far they hadn’t found anything in Sylvia’s room.

  “I know you’re not as deaf as Sam.” Miss Alice pulled the drape away from Holly.

  “Uh.” Holly blinked. How could she get out of this one without lying?

  “Well?”

  “Nothing that would prove him guilty or innocent, so no.” That was her opinion and she was sticking to it. Holly got up off her knees and dusted herself off. “What haven’t we checked?”

  “Why don’t you climb up on that dresser and check the top of that?” Miss Alice pointed to an aged mirror with a cluster of acorns at the top of the heavily carved frame.

  “I think I can reach that.” Holly stood on her tiptoes but couldn’t quite reach the top of the frame, so she kicked off her ballet flats and hefted herself on top of the dresser. As she ran her fingers across the rough wood on the back side of the frame, she pulled out a spiderweb. Every fine hair on her arm jerked to attention as an eerie tingle raced up her arm. She slung her hand and nearly lost her balance.

  “My word.” Miss Alice huffed as she steadied Holly and pulled the spiderweb from her fingers. “We don’t have time for any more broken bones, Hurricane Holly.”

  Holly groaned under her breath. “I was thirteen the last time I broke a bone. I’m not that clumsy anymore.” She wiped her hand across her pants but couldn’t shake the feeling something could crawl up her arm at any moment. “Anybody would freak out a little bit if they stuck their finger in a spiderweb. I didn’t fall, did I?”

  “Only because you’re young and limber. You’ve got to get a grip on things like that as you get older.” She eyed the cluster of acorns at the top of the mirror. “Check there.”

  Oh, crapola. There is probably more of the spiderweb back there. Holly shivered but she reached over the top of the carving anyway. She felt around the rough wood, and then her fingers glided over something smooth. “There’s something here.”

  “What?” Miss Alice asked, leaning around the chest. “Is it the memory card?

  “It’s feels like plastic.” She stretched a little harder to get her fingers around the thing. “It moved.”

  Holly gave one more stretch and pulled the thing free. She turned it around in her hand.

  “What in the world is that?” Miss Alice adjusted her glasses. “It looks like a fat chip clip with a tail.”

  Holly wiggled the tail and it stayed wherever she bent it. The flat backside of the thing stuck to her fingers. “It was stuck to the back of the mirror with this sticky stuff.”

  “Let me see that thingamajig.” Miss Alice squeezed down on the clip and it opened. She released it and it closed. “If it’s not a chip clip it would make a good one.”

  “One thing is for sure. Someone put it here for a reason, and I don’t think it was for a midnight snack.” Holly climbed off the chest with as much grace as she could manage. “Let me take another look at the thingamajig.”

  Holly held it up to the light and rotated it. The tail had a little ball on the end. On the side of the clip there was a slight indentation and an arrow. She pushed up on the indentation and a little door opened. Her breath caught. Out popped a memory card.

  “Did you break it?” Miss Alice said from over Holly’s shoulder.

  “No.” Holly lifted the little door. And pulled out the memory card.

  Miss Alice slid her glasses up on her nose. “Is that what we were looking for?”

  Holly nodded. “This clip wasn’t just a hiding place for the memory card. It’s a camera.”

  Miss Alice took a long gander from the mirror to the bed. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Oh. My. Word. We’ve got to tell Sylvia . . .” Miss Alice’s hand fluttered to her neck. “Unless she put it there.”

  Ew. That creepy-crawly feeling came over Holly again, but it had nothing to do with a spider. “Miss Alice!”

  The old dame straightened. “Well, either she knows or she doesn’t. It’s a matter of fact.”

  “But we don’t know. For right now, don’t ask her or tell anyone about this.”

  Sylvia loved the camera, but Holly couldn’t imagine that her ego would allow anyone to videotape her in her natural state. She certainly wouldn’t do it to herself.

  But Tru might. After all, he’d videotaped them all with his spy glasses. Why wouldn’t he plant a camera? Could he have slipped it into Sylvia’s room?

  Holly and Nelda usually prop the door open when they clean the guests’ rooms. Maybe he slipped in and hid the camera while they were cleaning the bathroom or getting fresh towels.

  Somehow she had to ring up her reluctant ghost to find out if he had hidden the camera in Sylvia’s room. And if he did, why didn’t he tell me? Something is not right at all about this.

  * * *

  Still no Tru. What could he be doing that was more important than finding out who was responsible for his death? Didn’t he want to be set free? She needed to know if he hid the camera in Sylvia’s room and why he did it.

  Holly was no techie, but she’d tried the memory card from Sylvia’s suite in every slot on her computer. It wouldn’t fit in any of them. Neither would the card Thomas had stolen from Tru’s spy glasses. Her laptop was probably ancient, so she called Jake to bring his computer to her room. He was the only person she could trust with the memory cards.

  Where was Jake? He said he’d come right over. Rhett watched her pace from his perch on her bed. Nelda could only keep Sylvia out of her room for so long. After her experience with what she’d believed was a family of mice, she’d waste no time packing up. Time was running out.

  Rhett let out a low growl.

  “You look rough,” Tru said floating into the room. The soot had mostly worn off and his hair seemed a little less singed since it had finally returned to its reddish-brown color.

  “Now you show up?” Holly flopped her hands at her sides. “Where have you been?”

  “Thinking,” he said with a shrug. “You know today is my last day until they send me,” he
glanced at the floor, “back.”

  “Well, think about this.” She folded her arms. “I found a hidden camera in Sylvia’s room.”

  Tru cocked his head to the side and crunched his brows together. “Huh?”

  “Don’t huh me. You were the one recording everyone with your spy glasses.” She waved the memory cards in front of him. “Is there something in here you don’t want me to see? Something that will prove you deserve to burn?”

  He huffed. “Now that’s low. Even I wouldn’t put a camera in someone’s bedroom. I was trying to debunk a ghost, not get blackmail on her.”

  “Blackmail . . .” Holly remembered what Liz had told her about Bob and Sylvia. Could Bob have been planning to blackmail Sylvia? Maybe taking out a little job security insurance.

  A knock sounded at her door and she rushed to answer it.

  “Charged and ready.” Jake filled her doorway as his chocolate gaze zapped her right in the heart.

  Charged and ready. Crapola. How does he do that to me?

  “What ya got?” he asked as he strode into her room and put his computer on her bed.

  I’ve got a world of trouble if I let my guard down again with this man. That’s what. “I found a camera in Sylvia’s room—hidden behind a mirror and pointed right at her bed.” She handed Jake the memory card.

  “Whoa.” Jake opened up his computer. “This could be interesting.”

  “See,” Tru said. “Why else would anyone put a camera in front of a bed?”

  “Depends if it helps me figure out who killed Tru and maybe Bob.” Holly stood beside Jake. “Tru thinks someone put it there to blackmail Sylvia.”

  “Totally possible.” Jake looked around. “Is he here now?”

  Holly nodded.

  He fired up his computer and slid the memory card in. In a few seconds, a jumpy video of the ceiling filled the screen. Then a hand covered the camera.

  “There’s no sound,” Holly said.

  Jake clicked a few keys. “It was recorded without sound.”

  “You don’t need sound if you’re just going to put up a nude video of a celebrity,” Tru said on the other side of Jake. “Blackmail. I told you.”

  The video flashed back to the ceiling and a hand again. Then the hand pulled away slowly as though someone was testing to see if the camera was secure on the mirror. As the hand pulled away, Bob’s face and bare chest came into view. He adjusted the camera one more time and then opened a bottle of wine on the dresser. In the background, Sylvia walked into the picture and sprawled across the bed in a silky nightgown. “Uh-oh. This may be something private.”

  “Blackmail.” Tru pointed to the computer.

  Holly cringed. “We shouldn’t watch this.”

  “Someone may have to take one for the team,” Jake said.

  “I’m in.” Tru rested his elbows on the bed and Rhett growled.

  Holly rolled her eyes. “You’re such a man.”

  “We’ve got to know what’s on here, right?” Jake asked.

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  “Actually, I’ve had to watch all kinds of things for surveillance with ICE. It gets old fast.” He pointed to the screen. “Hey, there’s a time stamp on the video.”

  Holly squinted. “That’s before Tru was killed.”

  On screen, Sylvia downed her glass of wine and rolled to the side of the bed. Holly watched through her fingers because she didn’t know what she may see next.

  Sylvia’s shoulders shook as though she were crying. Bob sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her back as he talked to her. He nodded, then left the room.

  “So much for Bob’s alibi with Sylvia for the time of the murder,” Jake said.

  “I know that guy pushed me now.” Tru pointed toward the screen. “I just don’t know why I didn’t get my pass out of here when he checked out.”

  No sooner than Bob was out of her room, a smile slid across Sylvia’s face. She poured another glass of wine and disappeared from view.

  “Did you see her play him?” Maybe she’s a better actor than I gave her credit for. “No way, she’d let him see her take off that mask if she knew she was on camera.” Holly looked from Jake to Tru. “If y’all are right and Bob was trying to get some . . . Let’s just say candid videos to blackmail Sylvia with, he didn’t get it.”

  “He got proof they both lied about their alibi,” Jake said.

  “Yeah,” Holly said. “And he didn’t live to destroy that evidence.”

  “No kidding, Sherlock,” Tru said. “I’m still dead though, and so is Bob.”

  “You know how Bob and Liz always set up two cameras for the Inquiring Minds shoots?” Holly asked.

  “Gotcha.” Jake’s dimple in his chin deepened. “A cameraman always has more than one angle. I’m thinking somewhere private like his room.”

  “One way to find out.” Holly dangled her master key from a chain.

  * * *

  A few minutes later, Holly had found another camera hooked onto the back of an Audubon print in Bob’s attic room. Jake inserted the memory card in his computer as he balanced it on his knees. He’d wedged himself into the oak rocker that had rocked generations of the Lane family babies. I might as well dust away thoughts of rocking the next generation. Lordy. Why did I even think of that with Jake in the rocker?

  She needed to think about Thomas and proving who the real killers are so he can get out of jail and Tru can stay out of Hell.

  “Is your ghost still hanging out with us?” Jake asked.

  “Barely,” Tru said. He looked pale, even for a ghost.

  “For now.” Holly watched what looked like a still-life of the attic bedroom until Bob opened the door and came inside. He leaned against the door like the weight of life was just too much to carry.

  Jake fast-forwarded the video until Bob gives a chin check at the camera and then answers the door.

  Sylvia is wearing a Holly Grove guest bathrobe but is still decked out in full makeup. She wraps Bob in a hug and kisses him at the door. As they walk by the camera he looks right at it. Holly tapped the screen. “See how he checks in with the camera. Now look at Sylvia. She totally ignores the camera, which is not natural behavior for her.”

  “Nope,” Jake said. “That confirms she doesn’t know she’s being recorded in either place.”

  While Bob is in the bathroom, Sylvia takes something wrapped in a napkin out of her robe pocket and takes a bite.

  Bob comes out of the bathroom wearing his pajama pants and a wife-beater T-shirt. He carries a glass of water, which he gives to Sylvia. She sets it down and pulls him in for a kiss. Seconds later, he’s gasping for breath. She takes the glass of water back into the bathroom and comes back out with Bob’s pants and a washcloth. He’s now sprawled on the floor beside the bed. She uses the washcloth to take the EpiPen out of his pants pocket and tosses it on the bed.

  “That’s one cruel woman.” Tru shook his head. “She killed him with a kiss.”

  “I’ve got enough.” Jake stood. “You keep watching. I’m going to make sure Sylvia doesn’t leave before Buster can get his posse over here.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Holly slipped another memory card into Jake’s computer and waited for it to load. Why oh why, when I am in a hurry does that little beach ball just bounce all over the freakin’ computer screen ?

  Finally, the memory card from Tru’s glasses loaded. Holly sat at the planter’s table scrolling through the images. She scanned for Sylvia’s and Bob’s faces. She sped them up and slowed them down over and over again.

  Tru had recorded practically everything that had happened since he arrived at Holly Grove. How could she ever sort through all this fast enough for it to make a difference to Tru—or Thomas?

  Holly sighed. It would be so much easier if the DA could depose the ghost of Tru the departed.

  Two hours into Tru’s recordings, Holly watched a close-up of Sylvia’s very angry face as she threatening to ruin Tru. Three hours later, she’s try
ing to blackmail him.

  Holly called Jake and asked him to get her to the sheriff’s office and help her make Buster understand he had the wrong man. And the woman responsible for it all was about to get away.

  * * *

  “You’ve got the goods,” Jake said as he walked with Holly down the hall at the St. Agnes Parish Sheriff’s office.

  “Yes I do.” Holly patted the computer bag strapped across her shoulder. “Thomas is coming home with us.”

  “Just tell them your story.” Jake opened the door and they stepped into Buster’s office.

  Buster stood and shook their hands, then reared back in his chair and put his feet on his desk. “You’re going to be hard-pressed to beat a full confession on video tape, but, hey, knock yourself out.”

  Jake settled in one of two standard-issue office chairs in front of Buster’s institutional desk.

  Holly stood so she’d be taller than Buster. A little leverage never hurts. “I’ll start with the history and how and why murder came to Holly Grove.

  “First, I’m going to tell you what happened and then I’m going to show you the evidence.”

  Jake leaned forward. “It’s quite a story. Old Sam is going to have this story on the front page of the Gazette, whether you decide to let Thomas Sinclair walk today or not. I’m sure he’s interested in a juicy story that frees an innocent man.”

  “We’ll see.” Buster crossed his arms. “Let’s hear it.”

  “I’d had some success with Holly Grove B&B after we got a lot of good publicity from a YouTube video that went viral. Then Inquiring Minds shot an episode that proved Holly Grove was haunted. It proved to be the most popular show of their season.” Thank you very much, Burl Davis. “It was good for my business, Sylvia’s Inquiring Minds, and Angel’s psychic services.”

  “Is this relevant?” Buster’s police-issue shoes scraped across his desk as he repositioned his feet.

  “Enter the stirrer of stink.” She threw a photo of Tru on the table. “On live radio, he challenged Sylvia Martin of Inquiring Minds to pick any show she’d done and he could debunk it. She took the challenge and chose the most popular episode of the year, ‘Ghost in the Grove.’ Shot right here in Delta Ridge at Holly Grove.”