All You Want

by Rachelle Ayala

  I shake my head wildly, uncomprehending. How is it she twists things around so easily?

  “I want to clear your guilt, so no one can hold anything over you. Don’t you get it? If Evan’s threatening you, how do I know he didn’t kill Viola when she got too close to the truth?”

  “Viola’s research had nothing to do with Evan. Nothing. She was trying to figure out who owned this property before Diana’s grandmother claimed it. She was looking into genealogical records to trace all of the so-called ghostly residents.”

  “Did she come up with anything?”

  “She’s dead, Todd. Don’t you care that she’s dead?” Tears swim in Tami’s bleary blue eyes. “She must have found something because someone killed her.”

  “Right, so if it’s Evan, you need to tell me everything. You and he seem to have a history, and he has access to the security cameras and the control room.” I remember him walking around with Tami in his trench coat, and then it hits me. “He had a baseball bat he used to carry around to drive off the raccoons. Maybe he’s the one who put the raccoon in your mailbox.”

  Tami’s face whitens, and she blinks, drawing away from me. “Why would he want to terrorize me when he wants to be partners? The bat could have come from anywhere.”

  “Okay, suppose he didn’t commit the murder, I still think he knows something or saw something. I can tie him with the murder weapon, the security camera, the sound effects, and his threats. Maybe he wants to drive you away from the hotel and have you sell it to him for a lowball price. What does he have on you?”

  “Seems you’re more interested in my little secrets than finding the killer.” Tami sounds defensive, and it gets my goat. Why is she automatically taking his side instead of pursuing the killer?

  “No, but I do have to look at all the suspects, and right now, Evan had means, the murder weapon, and opportunity. What I don’t have is motive, and I’m thinking it’s tied up with you.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. What Evan knows has nothing to do with Viola.” She shoves me from the doorway. “And Viola’s death has nothing to do with Weaver and my dad or Mooma.”

  “Mooma? What brings this up? Tell me about Mooma.” I lower my voice and tip her chin up to look at me.

  “Mooma’s death is the deal between my dad and Sheriff Weaver.” Tami’s voice is dull and listless. “My dad thinks I don’t know, but I fell asleep with my dolls under his desk once, and I heard him talk to Sheriff Weaver. They say I was the one who poured the fatal cup of tea.”

  “You didn’t know.” I hook my arm over her shoulders and pull her close. “You were just a kid.”

  “But it doesn’t matter,” she whispers. “It’s my fault for always playing tea party with her.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Except someone used the tea party to hurt Mooma, and I was the one who poured the tea that day. I wanted to serve her, because she always served me.” She dabs the corners of her eyes.

  “I’m sure everyone understands. Actually, there’s no crime because they never found the body.”

  “But that’s only a technicality.” Tami covers her eyes and starts sobbing. “Dad and Sheriff Weaver say no one can trace it to me, that they never found the teacup with my fingerprints, but it doesn’t matter. Everyone whispers, and they talk about me behind my back. No matter how hard I try, there are always those who believe the worst about me.”

  “Is that why you left home so young?”

  “Yes.” Her voice is small.

  “But you came back.”

  “Yes, because I can’t bear my parents being alone in their old age.” Tami wrings her hands. “And I’m pretty much resigned that no man in town in their right mind would marry me. Including you. You were playing with me last night. Teasing me. How dare you, Todd Colson.”

  “I don’t get you.” I steer her into the Weeping Widow Suite because I spy a couple walking down the corridor. Shutting the door, I lean in and kiss her lightly on the cheek. “You used to be such a flirt. Chasing me down and telling my sister how big a crush you had on me, but as soon as I show any interest, you’re backing off.”

  “Because you wanted to keep it on the lowdown.”

  “I don’t anymore.” I twirl the blond strands of her hair around my fingers. “I was nervous about your father. I know he’s up to no good, but there’s no way I’ll do what Weaver did, even if I’m involved with you.”

  “You mean paying off Weaver to stay quiet?”

  “More than that. Weaver destroyed evidence. I saw the reports with missing pages. Now that Weaver’s dead, I wonder if Evan or someone else knows.”

  “Knows what? That Weaver destroyed evidence?” Tami’s hands flutter in front of her chest. “Are you saying the tea was poisoned and Mooma did die, but the police misplaced the body?”

  “Something happened, and your dad is behind it.”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say.” Tami’s cheeks turn red, and she blinks at me.

  “Hear me out.” I hold up my hand. “I’m not saying anything about the body, but your dad was definitely paying Weaver for some benefit. My rookie year, Weaver was always going to lunch with your dad, and I saw him slipping an envelope in his pocket. Another time, I found an envelope of money, hundred-dollar bills, underneath the desk. I didn’t say anything. I pretended I had no clue what he was looking for. I wanted to be a good cop, Tami, but the unwritten rule was not to cite anyone in your family. Your mother’s a horrible driver, and you’re always speeding.”

  She backs away from me, mouth wide and flapping her hands. “Oh, my, goodness. Todd, you’re coming in here with all these accusations. My father would never pay blackmail. It was an accident. I didn’t know.”

  “Someone else knew. The poison didn’t get into the teapot by itself. Think about it. Maybe Mooma wasn’t the target. Who else was at the tea party?”

  “Me. Everyone knows it’s my favorite activity. Your sister, Linx, never liked tea parties. She was too much of a tomboy. I don’t remember if Molly was there, but she used to follow me around.”

  “Maybe she saw something.” I scratch my unshaven jaw. “I need you to bring this up in passing conversation. See if she noticed anything.”

  “Why aren’t you looking for Viola’s killer?” Tami’s voice is sharp. “Someone bashed her head in. It was horrible. I can’t get over how happy she was after reading the books to the children. I was the one who invited her to stay. I never dreamed someone would sneak up on her and kill her.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” I’ve been saying this an awful lot, but it bears saying again. “You take too much on yourself.”

  “Todd, you mean well,” she says, sounding resigned. “It’s my responsibility. My hotel. My party. If she hadn’t come, she’d still be alive.”

  “Depends on why she was killed. She was digging into a lot of stuff. Didn’t you say she was against your Gold Rush ghosts?”

  “That’s a minor disagreement.” She gives me a hard look, pushing back. “You have a lot of work to do. I shouldn’t take your time.”

  “You’re right, but will you have dinner with me tonight? As in a date?”

  “Dating me now? When my hotel is under a dark cloud, and my friend is murdered? And you accusing my dad of paying blackmail?”

  “I’m only sharing things with you so you can help me investigate. If Viola was blackmailing people, maybe she knew about Weaver too.”

  “It’s such a stretch.” She purses her lips, and then raises a finger. “Oh, Todd, that reminds me. Larissa hasn’t texted us back. Several people say she left with you.”

  “You know she didn’t. You saw me last when you tore off my mask and threw it on the ground. That was after I danced with Larissa.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact she’s missing. You have to look for her.”

  “Okay, but officially, she hasn’t been missing twenty-four hours. I’ll keep an eye out. Promise.” I lean in, hoping she’ll kiss
me. “Tami, this is the real me. If you’ll give me a chance, let me prove to you how much I care.”

  “I want to believe you. If this were a month ago, I’d be overjoyed, but now, it feels forced.”

  “Give me a chance.” I stroke her hair. “As long as you don’t tell me to stop, I’ll keep chasing you.”

  A corner of her mouth turns up. “Your timing is terrible, but I’ll let you take any advantage you want.”

  “You won’t be sorry.” Taking advantage of her consent, I go in for the lip lock.

  I want to deepen the kiss, but I have to be patient. I don’t deserve to horn in on her without first paying my dues. Dinner. Dates. Holding hands, and most of all, finding the murderer.

  Twenty-Seven

  ~ X ~

  I stoop almost to my hands and knees and squeeze my body between the false wall put up to separate the coal bin from the rest of the basement of the Bee Sting Bordello.

  No one wanted to clean up the piled-up debris, and I left out enough dead animals and hex signs to scare the workers into leaving it alone.

  I even convinced Tami to wall it off by warning her that she couldn’t dump a vat of coal without an environmental impact report. Little does she know the coal is already gone. I glued a layer on top of the container, cut the sides and installed a trapdoor, and chipped away part of the retaining wall to tunnel out into the old Chinese mine running underneath.

  I rent a room in town, but I set up a survival shelter in the mine, and now that Tami has electricity running, I rewired the basement and turned the abandoned mineshaft into a real holiday inn—where I have that fox girl stashed.

  Won’t they all be surprised how resourceful I am?

  No one thought much of me when I was a kid, especially since I was the loose end after Mooma died. The state paid for foster care, and I didn’t want to stay with the Kings. Oh, sure, Mrs. King made a half-hearted offer, but I didn’t want to stick around and watch them coddle their precious kingpin princess, or I should say Kingpincess.

  Everything revolved around how the tragedy affected her. How guilty she felt, and how it wasn’t her fault. How she accidentally poured Mooma the fatal cup of tea, and how she lost her favorite maid. How she only wanted Mooma to do up her hair, and how she couldn’t sleep without Mooma singing to her.

  No one pays attention to a skinny kid with greasy hair and zits as large as mosquito bites. I stayed at the foster home, because they’re stupid people and they think I like them. They were nicer to me than my own mother who kicked me and called me a lazy bum.

  The years went by, and I kept chopping wood. I grew up and lost the zits. I have a job, and I get a piece of ass now and then.

  Sometimes, I have to pay.

  Most times, I get it free.

  I even got a sorority girl last night, but she’s only a means to an end—my Pufflebuttinski Princess.

  She’ll help me get my dream come true, now that I know what really happened that night. I’m glad I never strangled her or hurt her—I couldn’t have done it anyway. My hatred might have run deep, but my love and dick run even deeper.

  I’ve got big plans for my Kingcess. Something way better than death. I’m marrying her tonight for Halloween. Won’t she get a fright night and a shock for all seasons?

  Which is why I have to feed the sorority girl and use her to get what I want. I creep along the tunnel with the bag of food.

  “Mew, mew.” A flash of black fur streaks through the coal bin door before I have a chance to close it.

  “Hey, little guy, you drag in anything interesting?” I flick on the flashlight and examine the skinny critter. His eyes are yellow saucers, reflecting the light. He nudges my boot, purring, begging for the food he can smell in my backpack.

  “You’re going to have to share with the fox lady.” I pick him up and stroke his mangy fur. “Let’s see how she’s feeling this morning.”

  The tunnel is narrow and short, so I have to walk like a hunchback and crawl the last portion. The air is tepid and dank, and my feet get wet from the muck and slime coming from the leaky plumbing above.

  I hear Foxy’s muffled moans as I stomp the muck off my boots.

  “I brought you breakfast if you’re nice to me,” I announce.

  Her pale skin is turning blue, and she’s shivering uncontrollably, but she nods enthusiastically. When I first captured her, she acted so tough and thought her Bigfoot guy would come to her rescue.

  Oh, she cussed and scratched, and even bit me, but one night on a cold hard slab or rock, and she’s quivering like a jellyfish.

  I rip the gag off her face but leave her hands tied.

  “I need to pee.” The first words out of her mouth.

  “Go ahead.” I give her a shove toward the bucket.

  “Untie my hands, please.”

  “Sorry. I’m in charge here.” I loosen her felt costume pants, and she winces when I lower it to her ankles. “Squat for me.”

  She’s so desperate, the pee’s already dribbling, and she partially misses the bucket and wets her boots.

  I snicker and shake my head. “Looks like I’m going to have to clean you up, Missy.”

  “No, don’t touch me.” She staggers back, but her feet are tangled in her pants, and she collapses onto the ground and curls up in a fetal position.

  “You want to eat or not?” I pull off a baby wipe from the canister and carefully wipe her sweet butt clean.

  She endures the cold wipe by gritting her teeth, but once I pull on her panties and pants, tie it up and sit her onto the cold stone slab, she opens her mouth and complains. “This isn’t right. You’re not going to get away with it.”

  “I’m entertaining you to the fullest. Think of the stories you can tell your friends about the night you spent underneath the Haunted Hotel of Horrors.”

  “You’re going to be in big trouble. I swear. I know who you are.”

  “How? When you can’t see my face?” I tug the Scream Ghoul mask I’m wearing. I’m not stupid. I take precautions and wear a different mask every time I come to visit her.

  “I can hear your voice,” she says. “I’m really good at voice recognition.”

  “And you’re stupid enough not to lie?” I wave the Bigfoot glove she had with her. “If you’re smart, you’ll blame it on him.”

  A sly expression crosses her face as she considers my offer. “You’ll let me go without hurting me?”

  “Have I hurt you?”

  “I’m freezing and dirty. The floor is hard.”

  “I can bring in a mattress if you’re nice. Would you want that?”

  She nods eagerly. “All I have to do is tell them Bigfoot took me, right?”

  “Yes, that’s all you have to do.”

  “What’s in it for you? What do you get out of this?”

  “You’re going to help me get Tami.”

  “She’s my friend. She’s probably worried about me. I don’t see how I would help you. You’re going to be in so much trouble. I’m sure the police are looking for me.”

  “You know, for a pretty face you’re pretty stupid?” I give her covered butt a slap and yank her to her feet. “But you do have a point. Give me the passcode to your cell phone.”

  “Not unless you untie my hands.”

  Does she think she has leverage to bargain?

  I fiddle through her clothes and extract her cell phone. The screen is locked but shows multiple text messages were received.

  “Passcode,” I order and put the phone facing her in case she has facial recognition.

  Sure enough, the phone unlocks, and I yank it away from her in time for me to read her text messages. Seems her friends are wondering if they should call the police since they haven’t heard from her.

  “Oh, isn’t that sweet? Tami’s worried about you.” I tap a reply to Tami. “I’ll tell her you’re too busy to get out of bed.”

  I tap out a reply to that effect, and Tami responds asking if Foxy will be meeting her for trick or treatin
g and if she needs anything.

  I’m doing great. See you tonight, I text back, and it’s the truth. I’m going to pay that Puffy Puss back for everything she’s done to me.

  I open the camera app on the phone and point it at Foxy. “Tami will see how happy you are as my prisoner. Wait, wait. Let me feed you some pancakes and eggs. Tami will see how well I treat my women. She’ll be happy to trade places with you. Oh, yes, she will. You want a mattress? Then smile. That’s a girl. Smile big. Say cheese.”

  Twenty-Eight

  ~ Tami ~

  I can’t get enough of Todd when he’s so swoony and romantic. He’s everything I’ve always dreamed of, and I wish we didn’t have a murder hanging over our heads. But I can’t stand here making out with him—not until Viola’s murderer is caught and Todd gets over the insinuations that my father’s been paying blackmail.

  For who? Me?

  Or the person who tainted the tea with Mooma’s horse chestnut extract. It could have been a practical joke, since she said it was her hemorrhoid medicine. I might have poured the tea, but how could I have known that it was poisonous?

  Could any of the rumors be true? That Dad was seeing Mooma behind my mom’s back? What if he wanted to get rid of her?

  No. It can’t be. I push away from the kiss and clap a hand over my mouth. “Todd, who do you think put the poison in the tea? Could they be the one who killed her?”

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” Todd says. “Murderers who get away tend to kill again.”

  Chills zigzag up and down my spine. “It could have been anyone with access to the barn.”

  “Do you think her son could have been involved?”

  “No, he was so distraught and sad. Some say she ran off because she was afraid of him, but I don’t believe she would have done that. He was kind of strange, but he turned out okay.”

  “The entire body disappearing at the hospital seems suspicious. Maybe the doctor was mistaken, and she ran off because she was pregnant.”