“And that was when I told them I was through,” Frank laughed, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. “Man, let me tell you, I will not miss having a full-time job, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised how quickly being retired gets boring,” Bessie replied. “Mind you, I didn’t work full-time, anyways. Never had to, thanks to my Robert, but I still wanted to get out there and feel useful. I volunteered at the church for many years until he passed away, and then I guess I sort of shut myself off from all that.” She sighed, “I love working at this place, though. Wouldn’t trade it for the world, plus I have my Annie and Devon here with me. Couldn’t ask for more,” she finished.
Annie hadn’t realized how isolated Bessie had been before she’d moved back home. Her mother had always given her the impression that her life was busy, but Annie supposed that she’d just been trying to alleviate Annie’s guilt over not visiting more often.
“Mama,” she said, making her presence known. “I just came to see if you need any help with the food.”
“Oh, no, dear, I’ve got it all under control. Frank here was just telling me about his job. I do believe he’s happy to be retiring,” she added, and the trio burst into fresh laughter. Annie felt as though she’d missed the joke completely, so she just smiled dumbly.
“What’s that?” Doris asked, wiping her eyes gently and pointing to the photo in Annie’s hands.
“Oh, I thought that I’d put it out during the seance,” she replied, still not wholly comfortable with the word. “It’s a photo of Lou Ross,” she explained.
“Oh,” Doris let out a small gasp. “Can I see it?”
Annie passed Doris the sheet of paper and watched her carefully to gauge her reaction. It wasn’t what she expected at all.
“Oh, such a shame,” she clucked, “Look, Frank. Look how young he seems.”
Frank took the image and nodded silently. He stared at Lou’s face for a long minute, then passed the paper back to Annie.
“I just don’t get it,” he said finally. “That guy, he looks like a nice guy. Why would he go and con people out of their money? What’s wrong with people?” He shook his head. “And who knows what the freak looks like who killed him.”
“Well, it could look just like one of us,” Doris reminded him. She put a hand on Annie’s arm. “Thank you for showing this to us. It’s so easy to forget that this dead man was someone’s son, maybe someone’s husband or brother. Regardless of what he did before he came here, he certainly didn’t deserve to end up the way he did.”
Frank agreed. “I know I ran my mouth off the other day, saying that he got what he deserved, but Doris is right. Nobody deserves that.”
Annie looked at her mother, who had an I-told-you-so look on her face. If she’d ever doubted the Martin's innocence, you certainly couldn’t tell.
The mood had changed completely in the cozy kitchen. Annie felt both relief that Frank and Doris seemed to have dropped off her suspect list and regret for having interrupted their vivacious laughter.
“I guess I’ll go and check on Rory and Devon, see if they need anything.”
Annie left them to get back to their chatter and headed outside. The scent of charcoal and lighter fluid made her feel both hungry and anxious. After the fire on the deck, Annie didn’t think she’d ever feel the same about lighter fluid ever again.
Annie was surprised to find Alexander George sitting with Rory and Devon, a bottle of root beer in his hand and a smile on his face.
“Hullo, Annie! Did you come out here to make sure we weren’t getting into any mischief?” her bespectacled guest asked.
Annie smiled back at him and made her way over to where the three of them were sitting in deck chairs beneath the shade of a large oak tree. “I can’t see you three getting into any mischief,” she replied, fanning drifting smoke out of her eyes. “I just thought I’d see if you needed anything,” she said to Rory. “And I wanted to let you know that Emmett sent something over,” she added, holding up the photo of Lou.
Devon was the first to ask about it. “Who’s that?”
Annie explained about the photo, leaving out the part about using it to lure out Lou’s killer. Alexander looked very uncomfortable when Annie offered him the photo. He took it with slightly trembling hands.
“This is the dead man?” he asked. “He was a bad man?”
His question surprised Annie. “Well, I suppose you could say that. The police think he stole money from many people.” She glanced at Rory, who was studying Alexander’s reaction to the photo very carefully.
Alexander’s mouth made a firm line. He handed the image back to Annie. “I don’t like looking at pictures of dead people, even bad ones. Does that mean that the person who killed him is a good person?” he asked earnestly.
Annie could see the confusion in Alexander’s eyes. She also felt exceedingly uncomfortable with his last question. “Well, no, Mr. George, of course not. Killing is bad, regardless of what the dead person did before they died.”
“If the killer is a bad person, why haven’t they been caught?” He looked from Annie to Rory. “Do you think they’ll kill someone else?”
Rory spoke up. “I’m sure that the police will stop them before that can happen, Alexander.” He took the photo from the man’s hands and passed it back to Annie. “Let’s let Annie put this in the house so it doesn’t get ruined.”
Alexander didn’t protest, he simply handed the photo to Rory and took a sip of his root beer. “I’m starving,” he said randomly. “I can’t wait for dinner.”
Rory walked a few steps away from Devon and Alexander, motioning for Annie to walk with him.
“Do you think that his reaction was, um, normal?” Annie whispered.
“For him? Probably. But, I’ll keep an eye on him, okay?” He glanced over at Alexander, who was now enthusiastically describing something to Devon, using his hands to illustrate whatever it was they were discussing. “I know he’s weird, but I can’t help but like the guy. It’s like--it’s like he just has no filter, you know?”
Annie trusted Rory, and she wanted to trust his judgment on Mr. George, but the strange man in the wiry spectacles made her feel very uncomfortable. “Don’t leave him alone with Devon, okay? Just in case.”
She thought that she could see the slightest hint of a frown, a touch of disappointment in Rory’s face. “Okay. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
As she walked away, Annie could hear their discussion pick up again. Devon laughed loudly at something Rory said and she could hear Alexander complain that he didn’t get the joke. Annie began to wonder whether Rory hadn’t been right about the odd little man. Maybe he was some sort of autistic savant, or at the very least, someone who simply took everything literally.
Kizzy and Rob drifted downstairs and out on the veranda shortly after Annie’s conversation with Rory. She showed them the photo and wasn’t surprised by either guest’s response.
“I know that the police said he was a bad man,” Kizzy confided to Annie, “but I can’t help but think about how sad the whole situation is. I mean, if he was on his way to visit his mother, well, what’s she going to think when he doesn’t turn up? And Rob told me that the police haven’t been able to figure out who she is or where she lives--it’s so awful.”
Annie chewed the inside of her cheek just a little upon hearing how much Rob already knew about the police investigation. “What can I say?” he shrugged when she mentioned it to him. “I’m just lucky Emmett likes me. I’ve pretty much pestered the crap out of him this week, trying to get a lead that might break the case.”
“Rob, you’re not a detective. You’re a reporter and a very good one, but I think you should be careful about trying to solve Lou’s murder. After all, you know that so far, the police still suspect one of your fellow guests.” Annie gave him a stern look, the kind she typically reserved for Devon when he did something she considered foolish or dangerous.
Rob rolled his eyes, which made h
im look much younger than his late twenty-something age. “And you’re not my mom. No offense,” he added quickly. “I’m not trying to solve the murder. Well, I mean, if I happened to solve it while helping the police gather information, then, so be it.” He crossed his arms. “And isn’t this a case of the pot calling the kettle black? I mean, come on, what is this seance if it isn’t a sting operation designed to lure out a killer using a mysterious package that just conveniently happened to arrive from beyond the grave?”
Now it was Annie’s turn to cross her arms. “There was nothing convenient about it. And, yes, I’m aware that it looks a little like a sting operation, but mostly I just want to see who seems the most interested in Lou Ross’s mysterious package.” She arched one eyebrow. “You seem pretty interested in it. Should I be concerned?”
Rob’s indignance was quick but short-lived. “I like you, Annie Richards. I’m not going stand here and argue with you. Point taken, I will be cautious and more discreet from here on out.”
Annie relaxed her own stance. “I know you mean well. Now, go enjoy your food before Marie calls us in for her big event.”
Rob and Kizzy walked, very closely together, Annie noticed, out to the veranda to get their food. Annie didn’t feel very hungry. In fact, her stomach was in knots thinking about the seance. She’d never been to anything like that before, and she wasn’t entirely sure how comfortable she felt letting Marie have one in her home. Even if it was a load of hogwash, the idea of possibly sitting around the table with Lou’s killer while trying to communicate with his departed soul gave Annie a proper case of the heebie jeebies.
23
Speaking With the Spirits
Annie wasn’t the only one who didn’t eat anything at dinner. Marie had locked herself away in her room, explaining cryptically that she needed to spend some time charging her ‘psychic energy’ and preparing herself mentally for the task of communicating with the dead. Annie wasn’t sure what exactly one did to prepare for such an activity, but she imagined it involved a great deal of essential oils and incense, judging by the stink coming from the room.
I’m going to have to Febreeze the heck out of that place when she leaves, Annie fumed. She just hoped that the scent hadn’t seeped into the walls and furniture. The room would only be empty for a couple of days and then a new guest would be arriving to take advantage of Annie’s special low prices during her first month of business.
Everyone else ate plenty. Rory’s dab hand with a grill meant that the burgers were juicy and tender, cooked nearly to perfection. He’d brushed the hot dogs with some tangy barbecue sauce while they cooked, giving them a sweet kick that had Frank going back for seconds and thirds.
Bessie had whipped up not only her promised peach cobbler, but she’d managed to whip up a sneaky batch of banana pudding. Annie suspected her mother had begun the dish the day before--everyone knows banana pudding needs to ‘set’ for a good day to be any good--but she didn’t say anything when Bessie proclaimed it a ‘last minute’ contribution to the evening meal.
MegaMart’s coleslaw and potato salad were nowhere near as good as homemade, but the guests didn’t seem to mind. Devon’s contribution, several bags of potato chips, were also welcomed by the ravenous guests. After eating for what felt like hours, but was actually only like thirty or forty minutes, Annie’s guests were full and content to sit out on the deck in the dappled sunlight that filtered down through the branches of the few oak trees that dotted the property.
Annie glanced at her watch every so often, keenly aware that Marie hadn’t spoken to anyone for several hours. She was beginning to fear that the woman had fallen asleep or simply forgotten that she was going to perform a seance. If it wasn’t for the fact that Annie could see the woman’s compact little Honda sitting by the edge of the drive, Annie would have sworn she’d simply packed her bags and hit the road.
Finally, as the sky began to darken and conversation began to dwindle, Marie appeared like a specter at the back door of the screened-in porch. “It’s time, Annie. Please bring me that which belongs to the dead man.”
Marie was dressed head-to-toe in black. Her shirt was a plain turtleneck, quite hot for August, Annie thought, and her skirt was a voluminous, billowy thing full of layers. She was sure that Marie wore it to look more spectral, more mysterious, but the rail-thin woman only looked odd in the getup, like a stick insect stuck in a big, black marshmallow. Her pale face and hands stood out in stark contrast to the getup, and the resulting look was both startling and a little unnerving.
Bessie sidled up to her daughter. “She looks like one of those Barbie doll toilet paper covers,” she whispered. “What is up with that getup?”
Annie shrugged. “I’m sure it’s for effect. Let’s get everyone seated in the dining room so I can get the package.”
Everyone except for Rory, Devon, Alexander, and Frank headed up the small hill towards the house. “Give him my regards, won’t you?” Frank hollered after them, chuckling at his own morbid sense of humor.
Annie noted that Devon had bolted straight for the barn the minute that she’d started towards the house. Probably sneaking that dog another burger, she mused.
The house was completely dark, at least the downstairs part. “Trust me,” Marie explained when Annie mentioned it, “you’ll want the lights out. Sometimes spirits can get, well, spirited. They love to manifest in light sources, and I’ve seen more than my fair share of shattered bulbs.”
Annie and the others followed Marie wordlessly to the dining room where the three candles were now lit. They cast just enough light for everyone to see each other’s faces, but no more. Annie was surprised by how dark the room was with all the lights out. The single window in the dining room was blocked by a heavy curtain, and the overall effect was creepy.
Annie waited for everyone else to be seated, then she made her way back to her little office, which was just down the hall from the dining room. She wished that she’d brought a flashlight, and once inside her office, she did turn on the light, but only long enough to unlock her desk and retrieve the package. After turning out the lights and closing up the office, she returned to the dining room and deposited the package unceremoniously onto the middle of the table. Then she pulled out the now-folded photo of Lou from her pocket and unfolded it, placing it so that it faced Marie directly.
The medium’s eyes grew large for a moment. “Where did you get that?” she asked, pointing to the photo.
“The police sent it to me. I thought, well, I thought it might help you to focus if you knew what he looked like.” Annie hadn’t meant to upset the woman, but she could tell that Marie was uncomfortable with the image of Lou Ross staring back at her. Perhaps she didn’t usually use a photograph to identify her spirits? “I can get rid of it, if you want.”
Marie didn’t say anything, but she nodded, and Annie retrieved the paper and returned it to her pocket. Then she took her seat beside Bessie, who was on Marie’s left. Doris sat to Marie’s right, with Rob and then Kizzy completing the circle. Because the table was a long rectangular one (meant to sit twelve or sometimes even sixteen people if they squeezed in just right), Rob and Kizzy were separated by an expanse of table. They strained their arms across its surface, reminded by Marie to keep touching each other.
“The spirit may try to inhabit you if you aren’t touching someone else,” Marie warned them. “I can handle that, but none of you are experienced with these sorts of things, and it could be very dangerous for you.”
Bessie squeezed Annie’s hand a little more tightly at this. Annie smiled reassuringly in the darkness and waited for Marie to begin.
The tall, thin, pale woman reached across the table and took the package in her hands. She ran long, spindly fingers across it, caressing the corners and, Annie couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw her sniff the address label. A low, humming noise filled the air, and Annie realized that it was coming from Marie.
“Come to us, Lou Ross. Come to us and tell us w
hat you need for us to hear.” She repeated this a few times, and Annie was beginning to feel beyond foolish when suddenly the flames on the candles began to flicker in an odd way. They seemed to twitch and bend, dancing in a random pattern that was wholly unnatural and more than a little spooky.
“I know that you’re here, Lou. Come to me...speak to me!” Marie’s voice rose to just below a wail. “I will speak with you now!”
A loud, low groaning noise filled the room, and Annie couldn’t be sure if the sound was coming from Marie or somewhere behind her. Marie held the box gripped firmly in her hands, and she dropped her voice to a whisper. “Yes, yes, I see…” she trailed off, mumbling something that Annie couldn’t quite understand.
Suddenly Marie stood, holding the package above her like an offering. She spoke, but her voice didn’t sound like her normal one. It was growling and urgent. “I want what belongs to me!” Marie froze, her back arched in some sort of spasm, and then she screamed.
Then, the candles went out, and the room was thrust into a most complete darkness.
24
A Killer Takes the Bait
Annie had never completely understood the meaning of the phrase ‘controlled chaos,’ but her evening was about to become the complete definition of the term. A few seconds after the candles went out, there was a loud bang from somewhere behind Marie’s chair, then the sound of breaking glass. The entire table shook, which caused Doris to withdraw her hand from Kizzy’s.
“No, don’t let go!” Kizzy shrieked. “I don’t want to get possessed by a ghost!”
It took Annie a moment to get her bearings in the fully darkened room, but she had been listening intently from the moment that the candles went out, so she heard the scuffle of feet on the hardwood floor and what sounded like fabric tearing somewhere behind Kizzy’s chair. She stood up, pulling her hand away from her mother’s.
Corpses & Conmen (Rosewood Place Mysteries Book 2) Page 18