“Ah, it isn’t so bad. I think they’re sort of fun,” he admitted.
“Says the man who is from a goofy horror flick.”
“A black and white horror flick, remember?” he pointed out.
Looking at his flickering black and white body, she shook her head. “How could I forget?” She pinched a cup lid in between the grabber’s fingers. “You know, that last scene had some weird sound going on. I could have sworn I actually heard someone screaming, but then I realized it was just the movie.”
“What if it wasn’t?” Harlem teased, waving his fingers in the air. Seeing a ghost do the traditional little wave was a bit funny.
“What else could it be? A girl screaming at her boyfriend to stop trying to kiss her during the movie?”
Harlem wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe someone was murdered . . . right behind the movie screen,” he announced, waving his arm in a dramatic motion that mimicked the evening’s movie.
Anna couldn’t help laughing again. Harlem used to scare her, but now he made her laugh a lot. Although, sometimes he liked jumping out of walls or through doors to scare her. She didn’t care for that. He even came down to her apartment in town on occasion unannounced. He could be a nuisance when he wanted to be.
“I doubt anyone was murdered. I think people would have noticed someone actually screaming.”
“You never knoooooow,” he said, dragging out the O in a traditional ghostly sound as he floated back through the screen.
Anna picked up the last piece of trash in site and deposited it in the bag. “Have fun looking for dead bodies. I’m heading back,” she announced.
Harlem’s head appeared through the screen, giving her a brief jump.
“Oh, stop doing that all the time.”
He frowned. “Uhm. I think you should see this.”
“See what?” she demanded, wanting to get back to the building so she could finish up her closing duties and head home. She was just glad she didn’t have to input the day's numbers like Valerie was doing. Usually, Belle did that part of it, but Val wouldn’t allow her to do a single thing while she was sick.
“I . . .” he hesitated, “I think there really is a dead body back here.
Anna laughed, waving the ghost off. “You and your jokes. Now stop playing around and come inside with me. Otherwise, just hang out here.”
“I’m not joking,” he said flatly, a hint of urgency coming into his voice.
Looking at him again, she saw the serious expression that had encompassed his black and white face.
“You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking,” she pleaded. The last thing she needed, the drive-in needed, was another dead body on their hands. She, Harlem, and Belle had dealt with a few strange murders.
“I’m not joking,” he insisted.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Rushing to the side of the screen, she peered through a loose board in the fence. Surely enough, there was a man lying face down in the mud, a puddle of blood oozing around him. It appeared he’d been shot or stabbed. “No. No way,” she spat out.
“You better give Dan a call,” Harlem said.
Chapter 3
* * *
“A body? You’ve got to be kidding me,” Belle exclaimed, sitting bolt upright. The instant she did, she let out a woozy sigh and let herself fall back onto the couch.
“I knew we shouldn’t have told her,” Anna scolded Harlem who was looking out the window at the flashing lights of the police car in the lot below. The chief and his singular officer were cordoning off the scene, preparing to do some investigating.
Anna had told Valerie what was happening and called Dan before even mentioning a dead body to her sister. However, Harlem said they should tell her right away. After all, she was going to see the flashing lights.
“Who is it?”
“We don’t know,” Anna put her hands up in the air. “We’re going to keep our hands clean of it this time. No investigating on our part,” she insisted.
Belle scowled at this reaction to the body. “How can you say that? We’ve helped Dan solve a few cases now.”
“And that doesn’t make us police officers.”
“More like private eyes,” Harlem thought out loud, folding his arms.
Anna turned and gave him a death glare. “No. Not like private eyes. We are two sisters who run a drive-in theater.”
Belle sat up again, slower this time. “Come on. What police officer has a partner who can go into crime scenes and suspects houses without being detected whatsoever?” she pressed, pointing at their ghostly friend.
Anna pursed her lips, trying not to swear at her sister. “We’re not getting involved,” she reiterated.
“And why the heck not?” she demanded.
“First of all, you’re sick. Second, we aren’t crime professionals. Third, why should we?” she insisted.
“Okay, first, I’ll be better tomorrow,” Belle retorted.
“No, you won’t.”
“Second,” she continued without a beat, “we aren’t crime professionals, but we do have more of an understanding of the paranormal aspects in these cases.”
“There is nothing paranormal going on here,” Anna shot back.
“Third, why should we? Because the body was found at our drive-in.”
“It’s outside the drive-in,” the older sister argued, trying her best to keep Belle at bay. Anna knew she had a protective side—and it had come out tenfold with her sister being sick—but she especially wanted to keep Belle away from any murderers.
“Close enough. I mean, how does that reflect on our business?” she asked.
“Quite well, actually,” Harlem chimed in. “This place is reportedly haunted, which it is,” he said, motioning to himself with both hands. “Each time there is a weirdo paranormal occurrence or murder here, our customer numbers skyrocket. You know that best of all,” he said to Belle who usually balanced the books.
Belle rolled her eyes. “I was trying to convince my sister here that we should help investigate. You’re not helping, Harlem.”
“The point is, tourists are starting to come in from all over to see our movies. Most of them are true crime and paranormal fanatics. They eat this kind of stuff up. Not to mention, New Orleans is already a target for those types and we’re just a hop, skip and a jump over to Cajun Country,” he said.
“Anyway, we’re not investigating. That’s that,” Anna said, waving her hands across in front of her.
Belle grumbled but leaned back into the couch.
A quiet knock came on the door and Anna walked over to answer it. A chubby dark-skinned man with a bald head and bushy mustache stepped inside. “Hi, girls.”
“Any news, Dan? Who is it?” Belle asked, sitting up again, but then having to bob back down.
Anna sighed, knowing her sister needed rest and relaxation and this new murder was going to make that impossible.
“I’m afraid to say it’s one of our own from town.”
“Who?” Anna gasped, now just as interested as her sister in the case.
“Jason Dobbs, I’m afraid.”
Belle gasped, putting a hand up to her mouth.
“Jason?” Anna asked, not recognizing the name. Having lived away from Sunken Grove for a couple years, she didn’t know or remember everyone from around town.
“Yep. He’s a realtor and landlord for a lot of property in town.”
Belle removed her hand from her mouth. “He’s the man who sold me this property to set up the drive-in. I can’t believe it. He seemed so nice.”
“Who would want to kill him?” Anna asked, unable to stop the curious questions from spilling out. She felt ashamed, knowing how she had just as much a nose for crime as her sister. She just had the logical sense to stay out of it when she could.
“I don’t know, but there wasn’t a murder weapon on the scene. We’ll have to do a full search of the grounds and surrounding bayou for it.”
“What about in the restaur
ant?” Belle asked.
“I doubt it’s in here, but if we deem it necessary, we’ll take a peek.”
“I’ll help,” Belle insisted.
“No, you won’t,” Anna ordered, pushing her back onto the couch.
“She’s right, this is police work. I’ll let you know if we find anything.” With that, he headed back down the stairs.
“What if the killer left it somewhere here in the restaurant?” Belle said.
“How would they do that?” Anna demanded.
“I don’t know. I have to look,” she said, going to sit up again.
“No, you don’t,” Anna said. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll have a quick look around the restaurant myself.” Somehow, she felt like she was going to regret this.
Chapter 4
* * *
Being left alone again on the couch, Belle quickly drifted off to sleep, not realizing just how worn out she was. In her dreams, she had images of murder victims and ghosts . . . all while she was trapped inside and unable to do anything.
When her eyes fluttered open again, it appeared to be light outside. She’d slept all the way through the night without a single inkling as to what had happened with the body, the police, or the murder weapon. Belle let out a long rush of air, buzzing her lips as she did. Her head still felt heavy, as if it were full of water. It had the sensation of sloshing around and making her dizzy. It was accompanied by a dull headache that just sort of throbbed in the background behind her eyes. Her vision felt fuzzy, like fingers reaching inside her skull. To make matters worse, she could hardly draw in a good breath without having to work at it.
She hated being sick like this and hated it worse now that there seemed to be so much going on around the drive-in. It had been enough that she had to step down from her usual work duties because of this blasted cold, but it was ten times worse now knowing that there was a murder investigation going on right on her property and she couldn’t do a single thing about it.
Unfortunately, when it came to being sick, you didn’t get much of a choice.
She’d practically fallen over working on a batch of Cajun fries in the kitchen the afternoon before. Thankfully, Valerie had been there to catch her. She and Anna dragged her up to bed and ordered her to stay put until she was well again. “You should have said you weren’t feeling well,” Valerie had scolded her.
Belle, being the spitfire that she was, hadn’t thought she’d had the option to bow out of work. The drive-in was her baby, and she hated leaving it in the hands of Valerie and Anna alone. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them, she did, but the drive-in was her own responsibility and she liked to be there when things were happening.
Having the vampire marathon scheduled this month had been a poor choice, she realized. It was a large undertaking and she always did tend to get ill around this time of year. The restaurant downstairs had been decked out in foam stone pillars and archways that she’d crafted herself using materials she’d saved from packages she’d gotten in the mail. The tables were draped with red cloths with gold trim. Plastic and rubber bats hung from the ceiling and all red and black drinks from the bar—Bloody Mary’s, Blackberry Margaritas, Grim Reapers, Soul Takers—were on a special.
It had been a big ordeal to get set up, and Belle had been proud of herself. The patrons loved it as well, especially the adults who were enjoying the beverages.
Yet, she had still managed to get sick right at the beginning of it all.
She couldn’t plan her life around the chance of getting sick, could she?
Not to mention, now that a huge thing like a murder had come up, she was feeling antsy, like she couldn’t lay still despite the achiness in all of her muscles.
Groaning through her sore throat, Belle gripped the back of the couch and slowly lifted herself up. Her head swam for a second, but she managed to squeeze her eyes tight until the sensation passed. While everyone else was out trying to figure out this latest mystery, she was stuck up her like a princess locked in a tower.
However, maybe she didn’t need to be.
She decided that she wasn’t feeling quite as poorly as the evening before. Maybe she could try getting up and doing a few things before Valerie and Anna came back to the drive-in that morning.
Placing her feet on the cold hardwood floor, she took a second to compose herself before standing up. It was a wobbly process, but she managed it. A woman with determination, she shuffled over to the bathroom door and stepped inside, opening the medicine cabinet above the sink. Grabbing the acetaminophen bottle, she poured two pills out into her hand, popped them into her mouth, and swallowed them dry.
Replacing the bottle, she moved into the kitchen and drank a full glass of water to go with the medicine. Within the next thirty minutes, she would feel the aches beginning to leave and the headache disappear.
Up until that point, she had neglected to take any medicine because she was simply too lazy to grab it and too prideful to ask someone else to get it. Anna had shoved two ibuprofen tablets into Belle’s hand when they’d originally brought her upstairs, but those had worn off ages ago. She chuckled to herself, thinking about how odd it was that she was willing to bend over backward to take care of the drive-in but not herself.
Also, something about a stabbing on your own business property put a fire under you.
She was determined to do her part.
Not only did she know the victim, but he also had always seemed like a kind person and a good businessman. She knew Dan was a great police officer and would do his best to investigate this crime to its fullest, but she wanted to also throw her hat in the ring.
Looking over her shoulder toward the apartment door that led down to the restaurant, she made sure no one was coming before she executed her next plan. Stepping to the side of the refrigerator, she cracked open the apartment’s outside door which led to a metal fire escape. The set of stairs reached down to the ground floor.
Peeking out, she saw that the coast was clear. This side of the building was just outside the fence line that marked the parking area for movie showings. Also, the brick wall was backed up against the cypress trees of the bayou, giving her lots of coverage to come and go as she pleased without having to always trot through the bar and restaurant.
Dan and his fellow officer seemed to be out of sight and there was no sign of the police tape up near the screen that had been there the evening before. Dan had likely made quick work of the investigation, trudging through the evening into the early morning hours to make sure he felt satisfied in his search of the premises.
She wondered if they had, in fact, ever located the murder weapon. If the killer was smart, then he or she would have taken the weapon with them. She didn’t expect to find anything herself, but she couldn’t just sit around and wait.
Besides, getting outside and getting some fresh morning air would do her some good, she decided. Opening the door further, she stepped out onto the metal staircase.
“Going somewhere?” a male voice came from behind her.
“Yikes,” she squeaked, turning and recognizing her friendly resident ghost peeking out through the brick wall of the building. “Why do you have to pop up like that?” she groaned.
“Sorry, it’s not like I make much sound moving around.”
He was right. He didn’t have footsteps or the shuffle of clothing to accompany his movements, meaning he could just pop up anywhere. If he concentrated hard enough and exuded enough spiritual energy, he could move things in the physical world—but it took a lot out of him. He usually had to recharge as it were after any kind of activity like that.
It seemed even ghosts had physical limitations of some sort.
“What are you doing, anyway?” Belle shot out, pointing a finger at him.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he huffed, coming out of the wall and floating on thin air beside the stairway.
Belle rolled her eyes. “None of your business.”
“If you’re looking
for the murder weapon, don’t bother,” he said.
Belle rose both eyebrows and clasped her hands. “They found it?”
Harlem shook his head. “No.”
Belle’s expression dropped in confusion. “Huh?”
“No, they didn’t find it,” he paused, narrowing his gaze at her. His mouth twitched up into a mischievous smile. “I did.”
Chapter 5
* * *
“It’s just up the road,” Harlem informed Belle as she followed him down into the front parking lot. The drive-in had two lots. The back one was surrounded by a high fence and was where people could pay to park and watch the nightly movies. The front lot was for restaurant guests who weren’t planning on watching the movie on the big screen—although, Belle often showed old movies on a smaller projection screen inside as well.
Pausing, the ghost turned to face her. “You should probably take your car,” he suggested.
“Why? Didn’t you just say it was up the road?”
“Yes, but you’ve also been sick. I think it would be a safer bet if you took your car.”
Belle rolled her eyes again. “You’re starting to sound like Valerie, you know?”
“And your sister would kill me . . . again . . . if I didn’t make sure you were safe,” he said.
“Great. That’s all I need is a ghostly escort,” she joked, following his advice and walking over to her car. Getting in, they pulled out of the parking lot and up the road into the rural bayou area just beyond the drive-in.
“Here. Stop here,” he instructed, pointing to an oddly shaped lump just off the side of the road.
Belle did as he said, squinting at the strangely shaped item. It looked like moss growing on a huge stone or something of the like. “What is that?”
“You’ll see,” he said.
Getting out of the car, Belle felt silently relieved that she’d taken the car as Harlem had suggested. While the pain meds were kicking in, she could feel just how worn out her body was from fighting the illness. Even just driving a little ways down the road had taken its toll.
A Bite of Murder Page 2