by Nic Saint
I approached the back door and that’s when I saw it. A spot of crimson on the paved little patio. I clapped a hand to my mouth. I’m not squeamish. Spending three years working for a mortician will knock that straight out of you. But for some reason the sight of the crime scene affected me powerfully. Worse since I’d known Gemma since we were kids. We hadn’t moved in the same circles, but I’d always banked with Armstrong & Tillich and she was a familiar face that now I’d never see again.
“Alice? Alice Whitehouse? Is that you?”
The voice came out of nowhere and caught me by surprise. I whirled around and there she was. The blond-haired bank teller, her hair tied back with a pink ribbon, a smudge of what looked like blood on her cheek the only visible reminder of her violent death.
“Oh, hey, Gemma,” I said, trying to sound as upbeat as I could under the circumstances.
“You can see me?” she asked, sounding extremely surprised.
“Yep. Sure can.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Alice Whitehouse. You never told me you could talk to the dead.”
“I may have forgotten to mention it,” I admitted. In fact I never told anyone about this particular gift of mine. People just might think I was nuts.
“Does anyone else know about this?”
“Oh, um, Felicity does,” I said. “And Virgil, and my dad, and the members of the neighborhood watch, of course.”
She frowned at me. She was always a good frowner. “In other words, the whole town knows about this secret power of yours except for me.”
I shrugged. “It’s not something you can casually slip into the conversation, Gemma. Hey, you know what? I can see dead people. Yeah, like the kid in The Sixth Sense.”
Her bottom lip started trembling, and tears sprang to her eyes. “So it’s true. I’m dead.”
“Afraid so,” I said as gently as I knew how.
“Oh, God! Why did this have to happen to me! Nothing like this ever happens to me!”
“Sooner or later I guess this happens to all of us,” I told her. “It just happened a little sooner than you anticipated.” Smooth, Alice. Real smooth.
“But they killed me!” she cried. “Someone went and killed me! Why, Alice? Why would anyone want to do that to me?”
I swallowed. “Do you know who did it? Did you see the killer?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It all went so fast. There was a tap on the kitchen window and when I went to look I didn’t find anyone there at first. And then they just came out of nowhere and hit me over the head with something.”
“A big rock, probably,” I said helpfully. “Probably from your garden.”
“Does it really matter?” she cried. “They killed me, Alice! Me! Why me?!”
I’d completely forgotten that Gemma could get a little hysterical from time to time. Like when she thought I had a crush on her boyfriend Chad Harlin and she pretty much attacked me with a Barbie doll, trying to hit me over the head with it. Good thing Felicity had lightning reflexes and had saved me from death by Barbie.
“So you have no idea who did this to you?” I asked, just to be sure.
She shook her head. “If I knew, I’d have gone after them myself. I’d have haunted them for the rest of their miserable lives.” She looked up hopefully. “But you’re going to catch them, right? You’re good at this sort of thing. I remember you and Felicity and those three old hags love to poke your noses in other people’s business and find out stuff.”
I gave her a dirty look. “Those three old hags happen to be my friends.”
“Of course,” she said, waving away my comment. She seemed to perk up already. “You’re going to catch my killer and then you’re going to lock them up and throw away the key. Or better yet, they’re going to fry for what they did to me, aren’t they! They’re going to get the death sentence.”
“I’m afraid they abolished the death penalty in the State of New York a long time ago,” I said. “Whoever killed you is going to jail, not the chair.”
She uttered a loud groan of disappointment and stomped the floor like a teenager not being allowed to go to a Justin Bieber concert. “I knew it!” Then she gave me a pleading look. “But you’re going to catch them, aren’t you? At least that part is true.”
I nodded. “Of course I am. At least if the police don’t catch him first.” Or her.
“The police,” she scoffed. “They can’t be bothered. That idiot Virgil was messing around here all morning, collecting clues. That moron can’t even find his cap unless someone points him in the right direction.”
I know I should have defended Virgil. After all, he is my friend. But Gemma was right. Virgil is not exactly the brightest bulb. I would never admit this in front of Marjorie, or she’d skin me alive, but it’s true. It’s a point of contention between Virgil and me how he ever managed to make it through police academy and I didn’t. “What about Rock Walker?” I asked. “I thought he was in charge of this investigation?”
She looked confused. “Rock who?” Then her face cleared, and a bright smile lit up her pretty features. “Oh, you mean that hot new cop? Yeah, he was here, too.” She held up her hand. “But don’t get your hopes up, honey. He may be handsome, but I doubt whether he knows how to catch a killer. All he did was just stand there, staring down at my body. Everybody knows you have to collect clues, interview suspects, check for fingerprints and stuff. I’ve seen CSI. I know what the deal is. But no. All he did was frown at me.”
“Maybe he was trying to get into the killer’s mind,” I suggested. It’s a thing. It really is.
“Well, good luck with that,” Gemma said. She gave me another imploring look. “Please, please, please catch my killer, Alice. Promise me.”
“I promise I will catch your killer,” I solemnly told her.
Suddenly Rock Walker popped through Gemma’s ghostly form. He gave me a quizzical look. “Who are you talking to?”
Gemma rolled her eyes. “Oh, God. Here we go again.”
“Um, no one,” I told him, quickly recovering from the shock of seeing him. How much had he heard?
“So who were you promising that you were going to solve their murder?”
“Just talking to myself, Detective Walker. Don’t you ever talk to yourself?”
“I do. Usually to remind myself that I’m late for an appointment.”
“Well, I was reminding myself I have to solve this murder. Gemma was my friend.”
“We were never friends, Alice,” Gemma said. “More like acquaintances, wouldn’t you say?”
I ignored her, which was hard, because Gemma never liked being ignored.
“That’s very noble of you,” Rock said. “But need I remind you that this is an ongoing police investigation? I’ll find Gemma’s killer. You don’t need to concern yourself with that.” He gestured at the spot of crimson. “And need I remind you that this is still a crime scene? And as such off limits?”
I looked around. “Are you sure? I don’t see any crime scene tape.”
“That’s because I didn’t think it would be necessary. I see now that it is.”
“Oh, God. He’s so obnoxious, don’t you think?” Gemma asked.
In spite of myself, I grinned.
“What’s so funny?” asked Rock, flashing twin dimples.
“Nothing. Just…” I gestured at him. “You here, and me. Meeting again so soon after… we met before. At the bakery, I mean.” My voice died away.
“Oh, crap,” Gemma groaned. “You’ve got the hots for him, haven’t you? I knew it!” She wagged a finger in my face, and I inadvertently flinched. “Focus, Alice! Solve my murder!” And at this, she popped off, disappearing into thin air.
I swallowed. “So what have you discovered?”
He gave me a long, level look. “Your dad warned me about your tenacity. And Virgil told me you’re a great investigator. Though he refused to tell me on what he based that assumption. He also told me you have a secret power.” He arche
d an eyebrow. “Care to tell me what it is?”
In spite of myself, I blushed. Damn Virgil and his big mouth. “I, um, the neighborhood watch committee, of course,” I said. “That’s my secret power. I wouldn’t be able to do what I do without their help.” I raised a fist. “Girl power.”
“Right,” he said dubiously. He seemed to waver for a moment, his eyes drifting down to the crimson spot where Gemma’s body was found. “I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “I’ll keep you informed on what I find if you offer me the same courtesy.”
“We keep each other in the loop?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I know your dad told me not to, but I’m going to follow my own instincts on this one.” He then held up his finger. “Don’t tell him I told you, all right?”
“Deal,” I said, holding out my hand.
He shook it, then flashed that dimpled smile at me again. The guy was simply irresistible! “Deal. Now start talking. What do you know?”
“Not much. What about you?”
He grimaced. “So far I’ve got nothing. No fingerprints. No footprints. No murder weapon. No hair or fiber on the body. No signs of a struggle… Looks like Gemma was surprised and attacked from behind. Hit with a rock or some similar object.”
“No murder weapon?”
He gestured at the garden. “We searched all over the place. Nothing.”
“Did you talk to the neighbors?”
He nodded. “Nobody saw a thing. Then again, the next-door neighbor wasn’t home last night, and the other neighbor seems to be half blind and half deaf, so she’s no good to me neither.” He sighed. “Looks like this is going to be a long slog of interviewing everyone who ever knew Miss Weston and hope we strike gold at some point.”
Chapter 4
That night, we discussed the case at the dinner table. The house we live in is small but cozy. At first it was just Felicity and me who lived here, then our two boyfriends Rick Dawson and Reece Hudson, and now it was down to me and Felicity and Rick. Though Rick had been talking about moving out more than once. He wanted to buy himself and Felicity a place of their own once they were married. I didn’t want them to move, and for now they’d decided to stay put.
Fee had told me she wanted to buy the house next door, and remove the fence between the two gardens. That way we could still be almost like roomies. Unfortunately, the house next door wasn’t for sale, and the people who lived there weren’t going to move just because I was having abandonment issues.
Fee had made us chicken and dumplings and mashed potatoes, and we were eating dinner out on the deck. Our garden might not be as beautiful as Gemma’s, but it was nice enough. We’d kept it strictly to a minimum, with a patch of lawn and a line of evergreens to line the fence. We wanted to keep upkeep to a minimum, none of us possessing a green thumb. Or even a green cuticle.
I popped a dumpling into my mouth and told the others about my meet with Gemma and then Rock.
“So Gemma doesn’t know what hit her, huh?” Rick asked thoughtfully. He’s a handsome young guy with shaggy blond hair and rugged good looks. He works for the New York Chronicle, though he spends more time in Happy Bays than up in New York. I think he wants to cut back on his job. Maybe even work for one of the local papers.
“Nope. Though I find that hard to believe,” I said. “I mean, she must have caught at least a glimpse of her attacker, right?”
“The mind works in tricky ways,” Fee said, dumping a pile of mashed potatoes on her plate. “Maybe she saw her attacker and doesn’t remember.”
“If she did, it’ll come back to her,” Rick said. “And when it does, we’ll be the first to know.” He waved a fork at me. “Good thing you made contact. Now she knows she can always talk to you.”
“Yeah, I don’t know about that. She was being a pain in the ass. She almost made me reveal myself to Rock.”
“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing?” Fee suggested.
I gave her a dubious look. “Really? You want the whole world to know we can talk to ghosts?”
“He might be fine with it. Your dad is. And so is Rick.”
“That doesn’t mean Rock will be fine with it. Chances are he’ll freak out and have us all locked up in a mental institution.”
“He would never do that,” said Felicity.
“You always see the best in people,” I told her. “But we don’t know anything about Rock Walker. He could be dangerous.”
“Dangerous, how?”
I flapped my hands. “Dangerous as in putting us all away in Bellevue!”
“Maybe I’ll have a word with him,” Rick suggested. “Feel him out.”
“No way,” I said, alarmed. “Don’t you breathe a word about this to him. I don’t want him to find out. Not now. Not ever.”
“All right, all right,” Rick said, holding up his hands in an appeasing gesture. “Don’t get your panties in a wad.”
“Don’t you worry about my panties,” I said. “Let’s just agree that we won’t discuss our ‘special gift’ with anyone. Especially Rock Walker.” I narrowed my eyes at Felicity. “And what are you grinning about?”
“Was I grinning?”
“Like an ape.”
“See, I’ve never understood that expression,” Rick said. “I’ve never seen an ape grin.”
“You should probably spend more time at the zoo. Apes do grin. Especially when they get a fresh banana,” Felicity said.
“You haven’t answered my question,” I told her heatedly. “What’s so funny?”
“You!” Fee exclaimed with a smile. “The way you’re obsessing over Rock.”
“I’m not obsessing over Rock. I’m just concerned about our secret getting out.”
“You’ve never cared about our secret getting out before. I think you like the guy.” And before I could protest, she quickly added, “And what’s not to like? He’s tall, handsome, strong, polite and obviously very good at what he does.”
“You can’t possibly know that,” I grumbled, though I had the feeling she was right and that Rock was pretty good at what he did.
“Wouldn’t that be something?” Felicity mused. “Me and Rick. You and Rock. Rock and Rick, living under the same roof.”
“No way,” Rick was quick to point out. “I’m not shacking up with some cop. This place isn’t big enough for the four of us.”
“You didn’t complain before,” said Felicity.
“That was different. Reece was…” He quickly shut up when Fee shot him a warning glance. Reece was a topic we didn’t discuss. The man was ancient history. Long gone.
“Look, nobody is moving in, all right? I’m not hot for the guy, or any guy for that matter. I told you already, I’ve sworn off men entirely. There will be no more shacking up. Not now, not ever again.”
“So you’re going to become a nun?” Fee asked.
“Why do I have to become a nun? I can date. Just not seriously.”
Just then, Gaston, our big red tomcat, rubbed himself against my leg. I picked him up and he purred contentedly. I saw both Fee and Rick watching me with concern. “What?”
“You’re not going to turn into a cat lady, are you, honey?” Fee asked carefully.
I picked up a spoon and threw it at her. She ducked just in time and grinned.
Just then, the doorbell rang and Rick walked in to answer it.
“If it’s Rock Walker just tell him to keep walking!” I shouted after him.
“Nice,” Fee said. She regarded me seriously.
“What? Spit it out.”
“Not all men are like Reece Hudson, honey.”
“I know that.”
“You are going to meet a nice guy and you are going to be happy.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. Just… give him a chance.”
“Give who a chance?”
“Ugh,” she said, and sat back, wiping her mouth with her napkin.
Rick returned, and I looked up, half expecting to see Rock. In spite of mysel
f I had to admit I was actually looking forward to seeing him again. So when I saw Marjorie Scattering’s face, I was a little disappointed. Not much, mind you. Just a little.
“I think I know who did it!” Marjorie cried the moment she stepped out onto the deck and took a seat.
“Who?” I asked, my disappointment quickly replaced with excitement.
“Do you remember Chad Harlin?”
“Gemma’s boyfriend? How can I forget?” I asked wryly.
Gemma and Chad had been together for years, finally becoming sweethearts in high school and being inseparable for years after. Everyone thought they were going to get married and start a family until Gemma had broken up with him for some reason. It had been quite a shock. The bigger shock was that no one knew what had happened, not even the Holy Trinity.
“Well, Virgil interviewed him today, and he told him…” She quickly glanced left and right, and dropped her voice. “He told him why Gemma left him.” She sat back, extending the suspense, like Carson Daly on The Voice.
“What? What did he tell him?” Fee asked.
“Gemma left him because he had anger management issues,” Marjorie said, waggling her eyebrows significantly.
Fee and I shared a look of concern. “Anger management issues?” I asked. “Why? What did he do?”
“He and one of his high school buddies started a construction company together.”
“I know. Zack Wyner. They did pretty well for themselves.”
“They did, until Chad started partying a little too hard with their hard-earned money. He developed a drinking problem and turned into an aggressive drunk. Showing up on construction sites drunk and flying off the handle when things didn’t go according to plan. Finally Zack kicked him out of his own company and Gemma broke up with him. He told Virgil he’s sober now, though.” She waggled her eyebrows again. “So what do you think? The boyfriend did it?”
“Why don’t we go talk to him?” I suggested. “I can’t imagine Chad being a killer.”
“Neither did Virgil,” Marjorie said primly. It was obvious she’d already made up her mind. Chad Harlin was the killer. No doubt about it.