Crapola. Holly knew the woman was trouble, but not that kind.
CHAPTER 34
The chill of the fall air bit through Holly. Was she jealous? Couldn’t be. She had no right to be. And why wouldn’t Jake be interested in a woman as beautiful as Sylvia? Crisp leaves skittered across the brick walkway and brushed her ankles as she made a quick introduction and then excused herself. Jake was a free agent, after all.
Holly turned to walk away, then remembered she hadn’t told Jake that Toni was “the backer” or that there was a moocher in Abe’s cabin. She spun around and called Jake over.
“Looks like you have a fan,” she told him.
“What makes you say that?”
“It might have been her drooling as I introduced you.”
Jake shrugged, as though he hadn’t noticed.
“Toni is the mystery lender. They’re not the smugglers.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard them talking.”
“Were you snooping?”
“Maybe. Oh, and just FYI, when I checked the loft, it looked like someone had slept there last night, and not a paying guest.”
Jake’s face turned ashy. “Any idea who?”
“At first, I thought it could be the smuggler. Then I decided it would be stupid for them to get busted for mooching a room. Then I found the same book Miss Alice was reading the other night. I can’t imagine her climbing into the loft to read.”
“Probably not, but I’m sure there’s more than one copy of the book. How’d they get in?”
“I could have left it unlocked, but a latch is broken on the window. Mackie was supposed to fix it, but—”
“I’ll take care of it,” Jake said. “No more snooping. Don’t leave the house until you talk to me.”
He walked away without another word.
* * *
The grandfather clock in the hall chimed its distinct half-hour tune. The séance would start at eight o’clock. She scanned the crowd one more time and caught a glimpse of Mr. Dunbar. Miss Alice was talking his ear off, as Grandmother Rose used to say.
The honeymooners hadn’t shown up yet. Holly wanted to believe they weren’t at the séance because they were “honeymooning.” Of course, Holly had barely seen them since she accidentally cursed the bride. And how could she eliminate them, since she hadn’t been able to search their room?
The only other person missing was Jake. Burl had suspected him, but she’d dismissed it earlier as jealousy. What if Burl was right?
This would be a perfect time for the smugglers to make their way to the river and back unnoticed by the other guests. She had to know if the honeymooners were in their room. She grabbed a bottle of wine, then scooted out the door.
When Holly reached the honeymoon cottage, the lights were off. She cradled the bottle of wine and knocked on the door. If they answered, she’d offer it as lagniappe. If they didn’t, she’d use her master key.
No answer.
She knocked again. “Room service.”
Fishing the master key out of her purse, she looked over her shoulder and down the brick path. All clear. If they came back, she’d just say she was leaving the bottle of wine in their room as a surprise.
Holly took one more glance behind her before easing the key in the lock. Her heart thudded so loudly, she wondered if she could hear Mickey and Charlie if they walked up right behind her.
Woman up. You’ve got to do this. She took small steps through the dark room. She tripped over something on the floor and caught herself on the bedpost. Her heart pounded as she felt for the fake Tiffany lamp she knew was on the bedside table.
With the click of the switch, an amber glow illuminated the room. Holly trained her eyes on the place where she’d tripped. A sleeping bag? Why would honeymooners have a sleeping bag on the floor? A fight?
She stepped over the rumpled sleeping bag and opened the armoire. One of two big duffel bags stacked side by side toppled out and landed on her foot. Pain shot through her toes. “Ouch!” What did they have in there? She kneeled and unzipped the bag.
Her mouth went dry.
CHAPTER 35
“Holy moly.” Holly stared at a Rambo gun and enough bullets for a small military coup. Her heart thudded like gunfire as she pulled the mouth of the bag open as wide as she could without touching the gun. Night-vision binoculars, a satellite phone, a GPS, and some other gadgets she had never seen before were stuffed in the corners of the bag.
All this gear would allow them to sneak around at night, when everyone else slept. She had no doubt she’d found the smugglers, but she had to catch them with the dope. If they’d made the trade, they wouldn’t hang around Holly Grove with their merchandise. She eyed the other duffel bag and sucked in a big breath. It could be filled with cash for the trade.
Metal teeth moaned as she unzipped the second duffel bag. Her shoulders slumped over the contents. Dirty laundry. She plunged her hand into the clothes, and her fingers brushed against something cold, hard, and angular. Pushing the laundry aside, she spotted a tablet PC. She turned it on. Quickly, she clicked the last used application, a webcam.
A fuzzy image in a distorted blue-green color came into view. A night-vision webcam? She squinted to make out the video. Trees, maybe cottonwoods, swayed in the breeze, and a river rushed by. She blinked. It was her Mississippi riverbank, just over the levee. Were they watching for the barge to snug up to the bank? Why wouldn’t the boat captain just call them? Unless they didn’t want a record of the call? Or was the camera to make sure the area was clear? Whoa. This is way too James Bond.
Movement on the screen caught her eye. A man? Holly searched the screen for a zoom function. She tapped the magnifying-glass icon three times. She shook her head, as though that would clear the image. Mackie?
Voices from outside jarred her from the video. Blood pumped through her with a whooshing sound as she slammed the PC shut and stuffed it back in the duffel, then pushed it in the armoire. The voices neared, followed by the unmistakable metallic scrape of a key sliding into a lock.
Oh, crapola. Holly dove under the bed. She needed Jake. Clutching her phone, she searched for Jake’s number, then pinched her eyes shut. She’d never entered it from the registration card. Double crapola.
From under the bed, Holly watched the door swing open. Feminine feet clad in ballerina flats padded into the room, followed by a pair of Red Wing boots. Holly couldn’t see anything from the calf up but guessed it was Mickey and Charlie.
“Ooh.” The ballerina flats stopped short, then spun around. “Keep your hands off my butt,” Mickey said.
“We’re supposed to be on our honeymoon, aren’t we?” Charlie’s boots stood toe-to-toe with Mickey’s flats.
“Only when we’re in public.” Mickey tapped her foot. “This is private.”
“Sorry. Guess I got lost in character.”
I’ll say. They’d acted like they were in heat every time Holly had seen them.
“Get lost in checking the webcam for action,” Mickey said, walking to the armoire.
Holly barely breathed for fear they would hear her. She needed Jake. Holly scrolled through her call history to see if his number was still there.
A duffel bag thudded to the floor, and Holly nearly gasped.
“That could have broken my foot,” Mickey said. “Be careful how you put the equipment in there.”
“Broken your foot? That thing is pointed at me. You could have blown my head off.”
“Okay, okay. Cool it,” Mickey said. “Jake says it’s going down soon. I’m going to gear up.”
Jake says. What does Jake have to do with them?
A knock sounded at the door.
The ballerina flats padded to the door.
“Change of plans. I want you both at the séance to keep an eye on Holly. I don’t want her messing this up,” Jake said. “Put your phones on vibrate, and leave if I call you.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Boss?
Her heart tumbled in a free fall.
CHAPTER 36
Holly scooted from under the bed as soon as Mickey and Charlie left. Her legs wobbled a bit when she stood. Disappointment stewed in a toxic brew in her gut. How could Jake have fallen so far?
She steadied herself and made her way back to the main house. Logic told her Jake was nothing like the man she thought she knew, but her heart didn’t want to accept it. She’d have to see him make the exchange to believe it, and now she’d have that opportunity.
Minutes later, Holly stood in the candlelit foyer of Holly Grove for a séance, along with the rest of her guests.
“Oh, spirit, come to me so that I may help you find peace,” Angel said in a melodious chant, with her eyes closed. She stood with her arms lifted, framed by the massive pocket doors that opened to the dining room. As though on cue, a breeze from nowhere pulsed her black, flowing dress in ripples around her body. Her eyes popped open.
Holly sucked in a breath, along with the rest of the guests, to form a collective gasp.
“The spirit is willing,” Angel said, lowering her arms with the grace of a dancer. You may enter.” She spun around and paced into the dining room.
Holly and the guests inched their way into the darkened room. Tiny candles hovered in the center of the pitch-black room. Holly’s eyes began to acclimate to the dark, and she noticed the tea light candles firmly planted on the dining table, in front of each of the chairs. Definitely creepy.
The scent of sulfur and jasmine permeated the room. Holly had never known the room to be so dark. She made her way to the floor-to-ceiling window and touched velvety black cloth. Staging? The dark fabric blocked out moonlight, starlight, and the glow from the gaslights on the porch.
“Allow your eyes to adjust to the darkness, and then sit in silence, please,” Angel said.
The darkness faded with time, and the eight tea light candles on the table cast a dim glow over the room. Angel sat at the head of the table. Duke, Toni, Miss Alice, the Fletchers, Mickey, and Charlie filled in the chairs on each side. Jake and Mr. Dunbar were noticeably absent, but Mr. Dunbar had asked for aspirin earlier for his headache. And the reason Jake wasn’t there made Holly wish for an antacid.
A small red dot of a video camera glowed in the darkness from the corner of the room. Behind the red light, a dark silhouette moved. Holly glanced around and noticed another red dot and a smaller silhouette in the opposite corner.
“Ready in five,” Liz said from behind the camera.
Sylvia held her own candle and sauntered in like a runway model. Her white dress reflected the candlelight, giving her a chic supernatural glow. Anyone else holding a candle under their chin would look like a sixth grader telling a spooky story. Bless her tiny little heart.
From behind the other camera, Bob counted down. “Three, two, and action.”
As though no one was in the room except Sylvia, she paused and stared into the lens. “Tonight Inquiring Minds is going deeper into the supernatural than ever before,” Sylvia said in pitch perfection. She glided like a cat to the end of the table opposite Angel. “Join us as we summon the dead at Holly Grove Plantation.”
She seated herself, then leaned forward and looked into the red eye of the camera. “Inquiring Minds is all about explaining the unexplainable.” She cocked a perfectly plucked brow. “Since we haven’t seen the reported ghost in the grove, renowned New Orleans psychic and medium Angel Dupree will lead us in a séance to contact the resident ghost.”
“Please join hands so we may call the spirit to join us,” Angel said, clasping her warm hand around Holly’s.
An eerie tension rippled from Angel’s fingers through Holly. She repressed a shiver and dismissed the feeling as nerves. Who wouldn’t have the heebie-jeebies with cameras watching every move in a room decked out for spooks but harboring criminals?
Holly stole a glance at Mickey and Charlie. Still there.
Toni let loose an excited squeal. “Don’t you love this, Dukie?”
Duke shrugged. “If you like it, I like it.”
“Shh,” Angel said, cutting her gaze to Toni, then to the rest of the guests. “We must save our energy for calling the spirit.”
Holly caught her lip between her teeth. There’s that energy thing again. Burl had mentioned how he needed her energy to appear and how it was hard work to be visible to her. Holly slipped her hand in Miss Alice’s hand and didn’t feel a thing.
“Hogwash,” Miss Alice said, dropping Holly’s hand.
Angel frowned. “Is there someone beyond whom you wish to contact?”
“I don’t need a séance to contact my Harry.” Miss Alice straightened in her chair. “I speak to him every day.”
Angel lifted her chin and eyed Miss Alice. “But does he answer?”
“Of course not,” Miss Alice said. “He’s dead.”
“If Harry wishes to speak to you tonight, he will, if you focus your energy,” Angel said.
Miss Alice huffed and took Holly’s hand again. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
An odd tingle trickled from Miss Alice’s hand to Holly’s.
Kate Fletcher patted Miss Alice’s other hand and whispered, “He hears you.” Then Kate smiled at her husband, Tom. “I’ll hear you and the boys, too, if . . .”
Tom’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, as though he were trying to swallow something too big. He cleared his throat and looked at his lap, like he could find a way to hide his sadness there. A wet trail crept from the corner of his eye.
Holly’s throat tightened around all the empty words of comfort she could offer Tom.
“Think of nothing, except here and now.” Angel closed her eyes, but no one else did. She tilted her creamy white face upward. “Nothing else exists.”
Holly scanned the room for Burl. Would he mar Angel’s perfect record of ghost calling?
“Oh, spirit, use my body as you will,” Angel continued in a melodious chant.
Burl’s hazy form appeared behind Angel. “Why couldn’t I get a woman to say that when I was alive?”
Holly’s hand ached as Angel clamped down her grip. Angel breathed in through her nose, then exhaled slowly. “A spirit is among us.”
Holly looked from Angel to Burl.
“Tell me your name,” Angel said.
Burl leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Burl Winston Davis the Third.”
Angel nodded. “His name is Burl.”
Holly’s mouth gaped open as she shot Burl a look.
“Don’t be so gullible, Blondie.”
“Burl Winston Davis the Third,” Angel whispered.
Burl paced over to Holly, then thumbed toward Angel. “Big whoop. She knows my name and that I’m dead. That doesn’t mean she’s psychic.”
“Does anyone here know Burl? He’s speaking to Blondie.”
Burl jerked his head around and looked at Angel like she was speaking in tongues. “Holy cow. She can hear me.”
Holly’s jaw went slack. No one called her Blondie except him, and there was no way Angel could have known that. Angel is for real.
“Burl calls me Blondie,” Holly said in a small, shaky voice.
Angel nodded. “Burl, how may I help you find your way from this world to the next?”
Holly’s brain skittered over the possibility Angel might actually be able to usher Burl into the next world as the guests looked from one to the other. An uneasy hush settled over the dining room. Angel’s séance was no dog and pony show.
“What a plant,” Duke said as he stood.
Toni yanked him down by his Hawaiian shirt. “Sit down, Dukie. I want to see what happens next.”
Bob focused his camera in on Toni.
“We’re on TV, and you don’t want to look like a barbarian, do you?” Toni asked.
“Better a barbarian than a sucker,” Duke shot back.
“If you ruin the séance, you’re the one who’ll look like an idiot.” Toni batted her lashes at Duke. “Come o
n, Dukie. Be a sport.”
Duke settled back into his chair. “Only for you, fly baby.”
“Watch this.” Burl sauntered to Duke’s chair and blew out the candle in front of him.
Duke stared at the spent candle a second, then glanced around at the remaining lit candles. He smirked. “Trick candles. You watch. They’ll all go out at different times.”
“He is an idiot.” Burl blew down Duke’s collar. “Can you feel that, big guy?”
Duke shivered and looked over his shoulder.
Angel eyed Duke. “Burl seems to be a prankster.”
Burl melted into Duke’s body. When Duke opened his mouth, Burl’s voice came out. “Joke’s on you, Conan.” Burl seeped out of Duke and stood behind him.
“I didn’t say that,” Duke said, jerking his head from side to side.
“If you want to use a body to communicate, use mine,” Angel said.
“Gladly.” Burl strode to Angel. He hesitated behind her chair; then his gaze drifted to Sylvia. “What about her?”
“Sylvia, the spirit wishes to use your body to communicate. Are you willing?” Angel asked.
“Me?” Sylvia stared, wide-eyed. She quickly recovered and looked into the camera. “We never back away from a challenge at Inquiring Minds.”
Burl poured a look over Sylvia. “I’m going to love this.”
He seeped into Sylvia’s body. She stood and rubbed her hands down her curves.
“Nice.” Burl’s voice came from her lips.
Duke stared at Sylvia from across the table.
“What are you staring at, Conan?” Burl’s voice came from Sylvia’s body again.
“Nothing,” Duke choked out.
Angel addressed the members of the séance. “Would you all agree the spirit is here, in Sylvia’s body?”
Everyone nodded.
“Then we’ll proceed.” Angel sucked in a breath. “Burl, you don’t belong in this world. Can you tell me why you are here?”
“Duh. I died and didn’t make the cut for heaven.”
Angel nodded. “And why do you suppose you didn’t?”
“Unfinished business.”
Better Dead Page 24