And the fettucine Alfredo was delicious. I changed my order because it was a special occasion.
On second thought, maybe I did remember a few things about the rest of the dinner.
I didn’t think about Steven and the dead body in the alley at all until well after we got back to the guesthouse. Melissa and my parents had shown great wisdom by not telling Steven my news, but asking him instead if he could find a particular kind of hinge Dad had suggested that he said Home Depot would never have. Steven had been gone for more than an hour already in search of an all-night hardware store, and had never even asked why that hinge was necessary. That was good, because Dad couldn’t think of a reason.
They had also hung up some bunting in the den and the “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” sign I hung up on Liss’s birthday and when a guest might be celebrating while at my house. Mom had gone out for a bottle of sparkling wine (they don’t let you call it champagne unless it comes from that region of France, and this definitely didn’t), and all three guests, Paul and Maxie joined my family and my fiancé (that was new!) in the den for a toast.
Dad, who knew Josh from Madison Paints when he was alive and Josh was a toddler, raised a glass with nothing in it because, let’s face it, what would be the point? Yoko, Mel and Anne were now used to having objects float around.
Melissa repeated Dad’s words as he spoke so Josh and the guests (but mostly Josh) could hear them. “I’ve known Josh almost as long as I’ve known Alison, so I’m really tickled to see this day,” he said despite the fact that he wasn’t actually alive to see it; why quibble over the details? “Josh was a fine boy and is now a fine man. He’s honest, he’s reliable, he’s loyal. He came back to Alison after years apart, when she was going through a couple of phases.” (There I got the parental look of “what did you put me through?” no doubt recalling the Swine Years.) “And we’re so glad he did.”
Then my father swooped down to be close to me and even the non-ghost-seers in the room saw how our perspectives changed—their eyes went to the spot where Dad was hovering. His voice got softer and his words caught a little here and there. “And my Alison.” He looked at Mom. “Our Alison. What a wonderful woman you’ve become. A terrific mother, a devoted daughter. A good friend. We’re so proud of you. And your mother and I are thrilled to see how happy you are now. We’re glad you’re going to make that permanent.”
I confess to wiping away a tear. Most girls don’t get to hear that from their dead fathers.
Dad rose again toward the ceiling, feeling his role as toastmaster and wanting to address the group as a whole. He raised his glass higher. “So here is to my baby girl and her new husband. May they always—”
He was interrupted by a voice from the doorway. “What is that all about?” it called. “How do you get that glass to float around like that?”
Everybody turned to look. At the door to the den stood three men I’d never seen before. They were dressed almost identically in khakis and long-sleeved polo shirts with woolen overcoats—exactly like the one I’d seen on Maurice DuBois the morning he came to the house looking for Steven.
The morning of the day he was shot and killed.
“It’s a convention of magicians,” I said. Dad dropped the glass onto the rug just to reinforce my point. “This is my guesthouse. I’m Alison Kerby. How can I help you gentlemen?” But I knew the next thing he was going to say before he even started to move his lips.
“Where’s Steven Rendell?” he asked, although it sounded more like a demand.
I did my best to look surprised. “Steven Rendell is my ex-husband,” I informed the man, who I was sure knew that already. “He’s not here.”
I saw Melissa’s arms tense up a little.
“I’ll get something to hit them with,” Maxie said with a weary air, and in a flash she was through the ceiling.
“Is this part of the celebration?” Anne Kaminsky asked.
“Well, if he’s not here, where is he?” the man said, as if Anne had not spoken.
“I couldn’t tell you,” I said. It was an evasion, but a pretty transparent one. I was trying to buy time to think.
Paul looked the men up and down from very close up. He floated through one of them. “Concealed weapons in shoulder holsters,” he said. “That’s why the coats are open, for faster access.” Thanks a heap, Paul.
Before the man who had spoken could respond, I asked, “May I ask why you’re looking for my ex-husband?”
“He owes me money,” the man said. “My name is Lou Maroni. Does that ring a bell?”
Fifteen
The dynamic of the evening had changed in an eyeblink. Now there were a number of priorities to consider. One, I had to get these guys out of my house before Steven returned. Or did I? Maybe it would be a better idea to have The Swine confront the consequences of his actions. Nah. That wasn’t going to happen.
Two, I had really wanted to celebrate our engagement. It was a surprise, but it wasn’t a shock, because Josh and I had been together for a couple of years now and while we had not actually discussed marriage, we had talked about changing our (read: his) living arrangements. So getting these guys out of the house was important on a personal as well as safety-related level.
Three. I wondered if there was a way to alert Lieutenant McElone to the presence of our guests, and if so, whether that was even a thing you could do. I mean, they technically hadn’t committed any crime yet. Do you call the police when people enter your house without knocking first? Is that trespass?
Four, Melissa looked scared. That trumped all others and jumped to the front of the line.
“I don’t know anything about any money, Mr. Maroni, and I don’t know where Steven is,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to ask you to leave. We were having a private celebration.”
“They got engaged!” Yoko announced to the three armed men.
One of the brutes behind Maroni squinted as if she’d said something in a language other than the one he understood. “Then how come it says Happy Birthday?” he asked, pointing to the sign hung on the wall over the fireplace.
“I guess they didn’t have a sign that said Happy Engagement,” Yoko allowed, finger to her lower lip.
“Seriously,” I said, trying to steer the conversation back to the topic at hand and glancing anxiously at the door for the impending Swine infestation. “I can’t help you gentlemen, so would you please let us have some privacy?”
Maxie dropped through the ceiling wearing her trench coat, which she quickly vanished to reveal a rather large sledgehammer in her arms. I thought I’d left that out in the shed. I probably had.
The second henchman (I decided that was what they were) behind Maroni said, “How do they make that float around in the air?”
Oops.
Behind my back I gestured for Maxie to get rid of the hammer. She huffed in frustration, but the trench coat reappeared and the offending object became invisible to the non-Kerby mortals in the room.
“That’s a good trick,” the first henchman said.
Maroni chose not to marvel at the astounding miracle he had seen before him. “We’re not leaving until we see Rendell,” he said convincingly.
“He’s not here,” Melissa said, stepping forward and facing her adversary directly. “You won’t find him here, so saying it like that isn’t going to get you anywhere. We don’t know where he is. He was here yesterday, but we haven’t heard from my dad since then.”
She even had the good sense not to punch the words my dad too much. That girl could act professionally. If I sold the guesthouse, maybe her Hollywood salaries would pay her college tuition bills. But perhaps that was beside the point.
Maroni studied my daughter carefully. Melissa commanded respect in people of all ages. He was not going to dismiss her as a silly little girl.
“Why should I believe you?” he asked.
Liss did her best to stare him down. “Because it’s the truth and you don’t want to have to intimidate a thirteen-year-old,” she said.
The man in the overcoat considered that, then nodded once. “Good enough. But I’ll be back tomorrow if we don’t find him first. And that time I’m going through the house from top to bottom because your father owes me a lot of money and I’m also not going to let a thirteen-year-old get in my way. Is that fair?”
“If she says he’s not here, he’s not here,” my mother volunteered. It wasn’t the whole threatening-The-Swine thing that was bothering her; it was the audacity that anyone could possibly mistrust her granddaughter, who was at least mostly lying.
“That wasn’t the question,” Maroni said without taking his gaze off Liss. “Fair?”
“Fair,” she agreed.
“Good.” Maroni buttoned up his overcoat and the two slabs of beef behind him did the same. “I hope we won’t see you tomorrow.”
“I hope so, too,” I said, simply to reaffirm that I was in fact the mother here.
The three men turned, adjusted their scarves almost in unison and walked out of the house. I could hear the collective sigh of relief float around the room like Paul and Maxie, who weren’t breathing but made a noise like a sigh anyway. Just to be sociable or something, I guess.
Josh looked at me. “Does this kind of thing happen all the time around here? I mean, once I move in, should I expect that?”
“Pretty much,” I said, and hugged him around the waist.
“She’s kidding,” my mother told my fiancé for fear he didn’t actually know me well enough to understand. “This is the first time I’ve seen gangsters here.”
I heard Maroni’s car start up in the driveway and pull out—how had I missed that before? That helped me relax a little bit. I looked up at Paul but didn’t have time to speak.
“I think I’m going up to my room,” Yoko said to me. “After that I need to meditate.” She walked out, serene but with an edge, if such a thing is possible.
Mel and Anne looked at each other. They were holding hands, which I saw as a good sign for their marriage. Then they went separately back to the rooms they were renting, which I did not see as such a great omen. People aren’t consistent and that bothers me.
“I didn’t get to finish my toast,” Dad said.
I wished I could hug him. The ghosts can deal with us as they can with inanimate objects, but when I reach for one of them my hand goes through and I get a varying sensation depending on the ghost. I reached out a hand and Dad took it, which gave me the comforting sense of sawdust and Aqua Velva that he emitted. “It’s okay,” I told him. “It was a lovely toast.”
My gaze gave Josh a direction in which to look, which was helpful when he wanted to talk to Dad. “I can’t thank you enough for the kind words, Jack.”
“This is getting mushy,” Maxie complained. “I wanted to hit somebody with the sledgehammer.”
“Maybe tomorrow.” Paul looked distracted and concerned. Melissa looked up at him.
“What kind words?” I closed my eyes. It’s a visceral reaction I get when I’m not primed to hear The Swine’s voice. He was behind me. “And who’s Jack?”
To be fair, Steven knew my father from when he was alive. He had no reason to expect that Dad was in the room now. So it was, in its own way, a reasonable question. I just wasn’t in the mood.
I blew past it. “We just got rid of three of your friends,” I told Steven as I turned to face him. “Mostly it was your daughter who saved your hide.”
Liss gave me an “oh, Mother” look, but I’m impervious to those now. She’d have to do better. After all, it’s my job to embarrass her, and if she started dating Jared, she’d have to get used to that. Not that she had a crush on him.
“What are you talking about?” The Swine was slick, but he was never quick on the uptake. “And whose birthday is it?”
“I could hit him with the sledgehammer,” Maxie offered. It was tempting but would require too much explanation afterward.
“Mom and Josh got engaged,” Melissa told him. That might have been retribution for the remark about saving The Swine’s hide. “Just tonight.”
My ex-husband’s face lit up in the most sincere fake smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “No kidding!” He reached out a hand to Josh, because why talk to me? “Congratulations!”
Josh took his hand but looked like he hoped there was some Purell handy for afterward. “Thanks,” he said, almost completely out loud.
“So, how did this happen?” The Swine went on, as if it were some magical process attainable only through the spells of wizards on a night the moon was full.
“You’re missing the point, Steven,” I said. “There were three men here looking for you, and one of them told us he was Lou Maroni.”
My ex stopped in mid-glad-handing and turned to stare at me. I thought my mother might take Maxie up on her sledgehammer offer based strictly on The Swine’s expression, which bordered on homicidal.
“Lou Maroni was here?” he said, advancing on me. I saw Josh close ranks and place himself between us. “Are you serious?” Why did he look like that?
“Yeah. But we made him go away.”
“Why would you do that?” The Swine demanded. “How could you let him get away?”
Melissa and I passed a look that questioned Steven’s sanity.
“They were coming for you because you owe him all kinds of money,” I reminded him. “We thought it best to get them out of here. How is that—”
“How many times have I told you, Alison?” The Swine shouted. “Keep out of my business!” He turned on his heel and stomped out of the house while all of us—dead and alive—stared at each other in wonder.
“That went well,” Maxie said finally.
* * *
The rest of the celebration was, let’s say, subdued. Liss reminded me she had school in the morning, the first time she’d done that since second grade. I released her from any further revelry and she went up to her room. That was just about the time Mom and Dad decided to take off for Mom’s house. Josh stuck around, but Paul and Maxie did, too, and that put something of a crimp in our celebrating. The ghosts weren’t about to leave us alone tonight.
Maybe living here after we were married wasn’t the best idea after all.
We sat on the sofa in the den, Paul hovering just over the side table, not pacing but sort of swaying back and forth, shimmying in the center of his body. It was like watching smoke try to make a decision.
Maxie said she was going to get Everett in case we needed military protection against the mob. Maxie has an interesting view of . . . everything. She zipped through the side wall at her top speed, which was fairly impressive. If she could find a car going slowly enough on the road, she could hitch a ride part of the way to Everett’s home base at the Fuel Pit. Odds were she would not be back soon.
One down, one to go.
“The way I see it,” Paul began, “we need to identify possible suspects in the murder of Maurice DuBois. In order to do so, it’s necessary to determine the people with whom your ex-husband has been associating, both here and in California.”
Josh took note of the direction in which I was looking and put his index finger gently under my chin, stroking gently. “Is one of them talking?” he asked.
I looked down to take in my fiancé. I was going to have to get used to calling him that. “Paul’s the only one left,” I said.
“Ah. So investigation stuff.” The stroking became a caress, which was better. I got a little closer to Josh.
“Yeah. Something about identifying suspects,” I said.
“Ooh.”
Josh’s arms sort of engulfed me, but not in a rough way. I snuggled up next to him.
“Alison,” Paul said, looking away. “We have business to discuss.”
“Uh-huh,” I answered.
Josh leaned over and kissed me quite expertly. The man had a talent. I responded in kind.
“Alison,” Paul said again.
I didn’t answer him.
“The investigation.”
We broke the clinch for a moment. “Tomorrow,” I said. Then I kissed Josh again.
“I don’t think this can wait,” the ghost insisted. “Your ex-husband’s life could be in the balance.”
This time we didn’t even come up for air.
“Oh, fine,” Paul huffed. “I can prepare for my energy experiment.”
My eyes were closed, but I was fairly sure he was already descending into his basement lair.
“Is he gone?” Josh asked.
I held close to him. “Uh-huh,” I said again.
“So it worked.”
“Yeah. Paul hates the gushy stuff.”
“Good,” Josh said. “Want to go upstairs?”
That seemed like a good idea.
Sixteen
“So, where’s the ring?” Jeannie Rodgers scanned my left hand with some degree of disappointment.
“We’re going to go get it next week,” I told her. “Josh didn’t want to pick one out that I wouldn’t like.”
We were sitting in Jeannie’s minivan, the vehicle of choice for the suburban parent of young children. Personally I’d rather drive the world’s oldest Volvo wagon with a suspect heating system—which I did—than wobble around in one of these paddy wagons, but it was a better bet to use Jeannie’s car today because as large and lumbering as it was, it had a distinct advantage.
The Swine didn’t know what Jeannie drove, so he wouldn’t notice us doing surveillance on him as he went about his day.
Finding Steven’s whereabouts had been a trick to begin with. While the original plan had been to have Maxie or Dad follow Steven from my house, he had stormed out the night before, but as it turned out Maxie had spotted him when she left to find Everett and was looking for a ride. She hitched one with The Swine despite his not going toward the Fuel Pit, and reported back early this morning that he’d been staying with a friend from high school, Bobby Bertowski, in Avon-By-The-Sea, which we locals called Avon. Luckily Jeannie was available this morning because my father was too far away to get to Avon in time and Maxie would have required a ride as well.
Spouse on Haunted Hill Page 14