by K E O'Connor
“What brings you out so early?” I asked Amelia as we walked along.
“Busy day,” Amelia said. “Carnival season.”
“You’re right, it almost is.” I recalled how Amelia had always been the first to volunteer for anything that Zee Town needed before she’d turned into a zombie. She still did some volunteering when she was having a good day. I often got her involved in carnival events, mainly handing out balloons or keeping the bunting straight. Nothing too strenuous. I got the impression that she still enjoyed being a part of the town.
“The floats are coming,” Amelia said. “Lots of big brains.”
I laughed. “I’m excited about them, too. I’ll let you into a little secret; I’m hoping we have an enormous American football shaped helmet with a brain inside. Won’t that be fun?”
Amelia gave me a broken-toothed smile. “Sounds good.”
“I think you’ll enjoy it. Are you going to help this year? I’m having people collect money in buckets. Or you can do the balloons again.”
“Balloons are good,” Amelia said. “Like giving them to children. Makes them happy.”
“And the children love to see you, too,” I said.
And, on the whole, they did. Sure, there was a lot of curiosity about the zombies. Some tourists came to poke fun and look at them as if they were mutants. On the whole, most people understood that Zee Town was a haven for all—not a glorified freak show.
We arrived outside a whitewashed double-fronted building. This was home to Selina Talbert, our doctor. She was tall and thin, with waist-length gray hair. The uprising hadn’t been kind to Selina. I remembered her from pre-uprising days. She’d caught the eye of most of the guys in Zee Town.
I opened the door, and Amelia shuffled in front of me.
Dee Holland was on the reception desk when we entered.
“Morning, Dee,” I said. “I’ve got an emergency patient for Selina.” I briefly outlined what had happened.
“Poor Amelia,” Dee said. “We’ve had a cancelation this morning. You’ll be next in to see Selina. Take a seat, it won’t be long.”
I nodded thanks and paused to look at the rows of photos on the wall. A couple in their sixties dominated the pictures. It was Selina’s parents, who’d been lost in the uprising. The shock had turned Selina’s hair gray. The color had literally drained from her.
Selina now spent a lot of time in the Black Dog, sometimes drinking a little too much cider. She was still dedicated to her work and had expanded her skills to those of a mortician, doing extensive patch repairs and cover up work when a zombie became seriously degraded. Nick also called on her skills as a medical examiner when a body was discovered. Selina was a clever, talented woman.
She also had a good heart. The numerous awards and commendations lining the rest of the surgery showed that not only did she love her work, but she was extremely good at it.
After five minutes of browsing through the magazines in the waiting room, we were ushered through into Selina’s consulting room.
Selina’s hair was piled on her head in a messy bun. She wore thick rimmed dark glasses that she looked over the top of when we entered. “Good morning, Cassie. I hear you’ve bought me a walking wounded.” She gestured to the two seats by her desk.
I sat down with Amelia. “Amelia had an accident this morning. We walked into each other. She must have landed badly on her hand.”
“The poor dear.” Selina leaned forward, poking her glasses up her nose. “That might need a permanent splint.” Selina looked up at Amelia’s face. “Any other injuries?”
Amelia smiled and shook her head. “No. Feel fine.”
I exchanged a knowing look with Selina. Zombies didn’t feel pain. Amelia could have other broken bones or bruises, and we’d never know about it.
“Let’s give you a quick examination, to be on the safe side,” Selina said. She hopped up and pulled back a curtain, behind which sat an examining couch. “Get behind the curtain and take off your clothes,” she instructed Amelia.
Amelia agreed readily enough and disappeared behind the curtain.
“How about you?” Selina focused her intelligent gaze on me.
“I’m not hurt,” I said.
“You hit the ground,” Selina said as she shone a light in my eyes. “Any dizziness or blurred vision?”
I blinked under the light. “Nothing, a bit of a headache, but it’s not a problem.”
Selina clicked off the light and placed it in her lab coat pocket. “If you have any problems, let me know. A concussion can be sneaky.”
“My head’s fine. I’m still alive and kicking. Not like Bert Figgins.” Selina had all the insider gossip on the recently deceased. I might find out something useful while I was here.
“I heard about that,” Selina said, keeping her voice low. “Apparently, it was murder.”
“Have you seen the body?”
“No such luck. They’re talking zombie bites.” Selina’s gaze flicked to the curtain. “What do you think?”
“That makes no sense. Our zombies are the good guys. Nick’s being a jerk by accusing them.”
Selina smiled. “He makes that impression on a lot of people. The bite marks are strange. I was thinking it was more likely Bert’s ex-wife. I heard she got stiffed over the divorce payment.”
I leaned forward in my seat. “She did?” Bert’s ex-wife, Sybil Figgins, had left Bert after one of his numerous indiscretions became public knowledge. They’d not said a civil word to each other since she’d thrown his shirts on the front lawn and set them on fire.
“Bert sent her golf equipment from his store every month instead of money. If that was me, I’d not be happy. What can you do with twelve full sets of golf clubs a year? I’d most likely use one to bash Bert’s head in.”
“Sybil isn’t in town, though,” I said, shaking off the vivid image of the bitter ex-wife setting about Bert with a nine iron.
“She is,” Selina said. “Sybil comes back for the carnival celebrations and stays with her sister in that fancy house on Provis Road.”
“Sybil wouldn’t kill Bert,” I said. “She’s got a right to be angry at him, we all know Bert had wandering hands, but she won’t get any money now he’s dead.”
“You mean any more golf equipment.” Selina snorted with laughter. “That’s who I’m placing my money on. The ex-wife.”
I tapped a finger against my chin. “Perhaps Bert stopped giving her the golf equipment, and she snapped.”
“It could be that.” Selina moved over to the curtain. “Are you ready, Amelia?”
“Yes,” came her gentle voice from the other side of the curtain.
I stood. “I need to get to work. I’ll leave you to it. Let me know how Amelia is.”
Selina nodded. “I’ll get the hand sorted and have someone take her home. I think she’s got a nephew keeping an eye on her.”
I nodded thanks and left Selina to her work. The news about Bert’s ex-wife was interesting. I should pay her a visit. I wasn’t certain what I’d find out by talking to her, but if I could add Sybil to the list of suspects in Bert’s murder, it would take the heat off my innocent zombies.
If I was quick, I could make it to her sister’s house and see if Sybil would like to go for breakfast. We could chat about Bert. We weren’t close, and she could be catty at times, but we were acquaintances. A visit from me shouldn’t be a huge surprise.
I increased my speed, nodding greetings at a few people as I hurried along.
The houses on Provis Road were impressive detached places with stunning views over St. Michael’s Bay. Many had a swimming pool. I didn’t see the point myself. Why have a pool in the back garden when you’ve got a beautiful sandy beach a five-minute walk away?
I approached a honeysuckle covered pergola outside the front of Sybil’s sister’s house, but slowed before entering. There was a car parked outside. Alex sat in the driver’s seat.
He spotted me before I could hide and gave me a wave as he got out of
the car. “Morning Cassie,” he said as he walked over. “What brings you this way?”
“Oh, well, I like to have a walk first thing in the morning. It clears the cobwebs.” I thought my lie sounded convincing. I wasn’t the world’s best liar.
“That sounds nice,” he said. “I’m already working. Visiting this house, in fact.”
I stepped back. “You don’t say. No trouble, is there?”
“Sadly, as Nick would say, that’s confidential. I got a long lecture this morning on not sharing active case information.”
“Oh, that might be my fault. I didn’t mean to get you in any trouble.”
“There was no trouble. But I know now, I shouldn’t share with you.”
My lips pursed. “Nick mentioned me specifically when he told you not to talk about this case?”
“Sure. He mentions you a lot. I think you’re on his mind.”
My mouth opened, but no words came out. Why would Nick Morton have me on his mind?
Alex tipped back on his heels. “Anyway, there’s nothing to worry about here. We’re making a few inquiries on... an open case.”
“That’s good to hear. Sybil Figgins used to be married to Bert, didn’t she? Is she staying here with her sister?”
Alex licked his lips and glanced back at the house. “I believe so.”
“Do you think she’s involved in his murder?”
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t say.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“I shouldn’t. Cassie, please don’t ask me. I don’t want to get in more trouble.”
I looked at the house, desperate to get inside and hear what Nick was asking. “No problem. Sorry, I was just interested.”
Alex cleared his throat. “I’m glad to have bumped into you. I was wondering if you’re seeing anybody.”
“Like a boyfriend?” I stuttered out my words. “No, I’m single.”
He smiled. “It’s just that, well, I’m new in town, as you know. It would be nice to make more friends and perhaps take one of the prettiest women in town out for a date.”
I couldn’t help the blood that rushed to my cheeks. It was nice to be considered pretty. I wondered where I sat on his list, though. Top ten? Top five? Alex was most likely trying to be sweet by saying that. He was also good-looking and seemed like a decent guy. What was the harm in going on an innocent date? And if I could get him to talk about Bert, so much the better.
“That’s nice of you to ask,” I said.
“I don’t know any of the decent places around here. I’m not sure where to take you.”
“There are loads of lovely places,” I said. “How about lunch tomorrow? We can meet on the seafront by the ice cream stand. There are great seafood places if you eat fish?”
“I don’t, but I’m sure they’ll have something for me,” Alex said. “How about one o’clock?”
“That works for me,” I said.
“Great.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Well, better go. Duty calls.” He grinned before turning toward the house and walking under the pergola.
I walked away slowly, distracted because I’d just been asked out for the first time in years.
I was a mature, sensible woman. I wouldn’t let this distract me from talking to Sybil about her issues with Bert. And it looked like I was on the right track.
If Nick was already asking Sybil questions, there could something to Selina’s idea about the angry ex-wife being the killer.
I walked to work with a bounce in my step. It looked like today would be a great day. I had a new suspect in Bert’s murder and a date.
Chapter 10
The bell jangled overhead as I hurried through the office door. Zara had yet to arrive, so I grabbed the phone and made a quick call to Jen.
“You’ll never guess what’s happened?” I said as I sat behind my desk.
“Elvis has returned as a zombie?”
“Nope. Guess again.”
“Is it Marilyn Monroe?”
“It’s nothing zombie related,” I said. “Well, it is in a roundabout way. I went to visit Selina with an injured zombie. She mentioned that Bert’s ex-wife is in town. She’s not a happy lady.”
“Sybil’s back?” Jen asked. “She’s scary. Although not as bad as her older sister, Miriam. Every time she books an appointment at the salon, my hands shake with nerves when I cut her hair.”
“Selina thinks Sybil could be involved in Bert’s murder,” I said.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Jen said. “Have you seen the nails on that woman? They’re like talons. And she gets them painted that vivid red, warning people to stay away.”
“I was going to speak to her this morning, invite her out for breakfast and have a catch up,” I said.
“How thoughtful of you,” Jen said. “I bet she’ll love to be questioned about her ex-husband’s death over waffles.”
“The waffles at Laura’s diner are amazing,” I said with a grin. “I didn’t get a chance to ask Sybil anything. I bumped into Alex outside her sister’s house.”
“What a treat to see such a vision of hotness first thing in the morning,” Jen said.
“It was. And it looks like Nick is also interested in Sybil for Bert’s murder.”
“Did he arrest her?” Jen asked.
“Not that I know of. I didn’t stay long. I didn’t want Nick seeing me.” I wasn’t sure whether to tell Jen the next bit. Despite her denying it, I had a feeling she had a soft spot for Alex. Still, I never hid anything from my best friend. “Alex asked me out on a date.”
There was a pause for a heartbeat. “Did you say yes?”
“I did. After all, you told me to.” Jen sounded less than thrilled about my date.
“He is cute,” Jen said, seeming wistful.
“Are you sure you don’t mind? Alex isn’t my type, but he could be useful in figuring out what happened to Bert. Maybe you’d prefer to date him.”
“No way. Count me out of the dating scene. What with the salon and the shelter, I’m run off my feet. I can’t squeeze a man into the equation. You need to get out and have fun. You’re always stuck in the office dealing with tourists. It’s time you found yourself a new man.”
I bit my bottom lip and looked at my bare ring finger. “Alex is a good guy. If nothing else, I can make a new friend and get some information about Bert.”
“Exactly! Go out and enjoy yourself. I want to know all the details,” Jen said, her voice lowering. “I’d better go. My first appointment is here.”
We said a quick goodbye, and I hung up. Jen was right, I did lose myself in my work and ignored the fact my thirtieth birthday wasn’t a million miles away.
I doubted Alex was Mr. Right, but he could be Mr. Helpful with this murder.
I made a mug of tea and heated the beef broth, making a mug for Zara. I’d just placed a full mug on her desk when she walked through the doorway and smiled at me.
“Morning, Zara.” I returned to my desk. “I hope you’re ready for a busy day full of brains.”
“Always time for brains.” Zara ambled to her desk and drank her beef broth.
“We’ve got the final layout for the float procession to sort out this morning,” I said. “Take a look at these.” I pulled out a large folder containing drawings and pictures of the floats in the procession.
The carnival procession was the highlight of the event. After the tourists had stuffed themselves full of culinary delights and soaked up as much of the beautiful scenery as possible, we ended the afternoon with an enormous procession of amazing themed floats. Unsurprisingly, zombies dominated the float procession. This year we’d given entrants free rein on their float designs, so long as the theme was zombie.
“Big brains on the floats.” Zara walked over to my desk.
“Huge brains.” I laid out the photos. “This year, I’ve tried to tell the story of Zee Town.”
“Those are rabids.” Zara’s finger trembled as she pointed to the
first picture I laid out.
“It will only be people dressed up. We have no rabids in Zee Town.” Placid zombies hated rabids as much as everyone else. “The enormous brain on wheels will go next, representing the virus that infected people’s brains.”
Zara nodded again. “The virus is in here.” She pointed to her own head.
“And in mine, too.” Everyone was infected with the virus. It simply affected people in different ways.
Zara stroked my hand. “We’re all zombies.”
She wasn’t wrong. I sometimes felt like one, especially after a few late nights. “Then, we have this amazing float.” Someone had created a model version of Zee Town.
“And the placids.” Zara stroked her finger across the next photo.
“You’ll like this one.” I turned the picture around. It showed a float full of happy, placid zombies. “You can go on this one if you want to. You’re happy here, aren’t you?” I was never sure how content Zara was. She never complained about the work I gave her, but occasionally, I’d see a faraway look in her eyes, as if she remembered her life before she changed. I wasn’t sure that was possible, but I wanted to make sure she was satisfied with her zombie life.
Zara smiled, her gaze on the picture. “Only want to watch.”
“Fair enough. You do what you feel able to.” I sighed as I looked at the remaining float designs. “The rest of them, the ones that don’t fit into the timeline, will go at the back. This zombie brain in a helmet is fun. There’s also one with a Las Vegas sign on it. I’m still not sure what that’s about.”
“Famous zombies.” Zara pointed at the picture.
I leaned closer. She was right. Under the Las Vegas sign, there were mannequins of famous actors that had been kitted out to look like zombies. We’d lost some of the hottest actors when the virus took hold. “We can put that after the giant football brain.”
“Music?” Zara covered her ears with her hands. Too much noise always distracted her.
“Yes, there will be music. The marching band will follow the floats. We also have our zombie themed dancers and twirlers.” We would also have smaller floats from businesses, who’d deck themselves in gaudy colors and zombie motifs.