Before she could answer, a gust of wind swirled through the room. The detective took notice. “Must be a window open in here,” he said, adjusting his suit jacket. “When we’re done, you might want to check it out.”
Emma knew there was no window left open. Even before she saw the spirit, she knew the mystery ghost was back.
“Now look what you’ve done,” a disembodied voice scolded her from the direction of the mantle. “You’ve ruined everything.”
Emma ignored the voice and returned her attention to the detective. “Not sure, Detective. I didn’t know Denise personally, so I don’t know who in her life might have wanted her dead. Could have been coincidental timing.”
“Uh-huh.” Tillman stopped writing in his notebook and fixed her with eyes the color of soot. “The police take a dim view of coincidences.”
Before either of them could say anything more, the detective who’d been questioning Jackie stepped into the room. He gestured to Tillman, who stood up and went to him. The two detectives huddled in the corner, whispering. Every now and then, Tillman glanced back at Emma.
The unknown spirit was still in the room. Emma could see her outline several yards away. It hovered like a cloud without a breeze to propel it to its next location. As she focused, Emma could see more of the ghost, at least enough to determine that it might not be the spirit of Linda Manning. Emma had met Mrs. Manning on several occasions. She’d been built a lot like her husband, tall and slender. The last time Emma had seen her, her silver hair had been cropped close. Though not short, the outline of the ghost appeared to be of average height and a little pudgy, with shoulder-length hair.
As Emma watched, the ghost drifted toward her. She wanted to ask the image questions but didn’t dare with Tillman keeping an eagle eye on her.
“Be glad I’m dead, Emma Whitecastle,” the apparition said when it reached her. “Or else you’d be in the morgue next to that silly Dowd woman.”
Emma sucked in her breath and went white.
“You okay, Mrs. Whitecastle?” The question came from Detective Tillman, who had moved to her side. The ghost disappeared.
“Yes.” She looked up at Tillman, taken aback that he was flesh and bone, half expecting to see yet another spirit. “Yes,” she repeated. “I’m fine. It’s been a very trying few days.”
Tillman took his seat again. The other detective moved within earshot. “So,” Detective Tillman started, “when were you going to tell us that you think this Tessa North was murdered?”
Emma’s surprise didn’t last long, realizing that Jackie must have told them. “It’s just a theory, Detective Tillman.” She glanced from one detective to the other. “There’s no concrete evidence that she was murdered.”
“But you’ve seen her ghost?” Tillman asked.
Emma looked at Tillman, then at his partner, a compact white man who wore thick-rimmed glasses. Emma noted that both men wore serious looks without a hint of disdain. After a long hesitation, she replied, “Yes, I have. On Catalina. And no one seems to know what happened to her.”
Taking out his notebook and pen again, Tillman leaned forward. “Do you know who she went to the island with?”
“No, only that she went there shortly after Robert Kennedy was assassinated and was never seen again. The name Curtis keeps coming up, but none of her friends from that time recall anyone by that name.”
The two detectives questioned Emma some more, taking turns as new thoughts and avenues of possibilities occurred to them. She cooperated as best she could, made easier by their open attitude. If they thought she was a nut case, they hid it well.
Before leaving, Detective Tillman gave her a stern warning. “For the time being, Mrs. Whitecastle, why don’t you back off from your research on this North woman.” When Emma started to protest, he added, “Until we’re sure Denise Dowd’s murder has nothing to do with your curiosity. If Tessa North was murdered, you could be stirring up a hornets’ nest. You might even be in danger yourself.”
Emma felt her knees wobble. In the shock of being threatened by a ghost, she’d forgotten about the real danger of the living.
Even though it was Saturday, Jackie went back to her own desk to catch up on some work. When she was alone, Emma dug her cell phone out of her purse and scrolled through her list of recently received calls. When she found what she was searching for, she hit the button to call the number. In spite of Detective Tillman’s warning, she wasn’t about to give up digging into the disappearance of Tessa North. With everything that had happened, she felt compelled at this point, her need to know gnawing at her like an overwhelming addiction.
Worth Manning picked up on the second ring. “Change your mind about having dinner with me, Emma?”
“I think I’ve had enough excitement for a few days, Senator. I’m sure you saw the news last night.”
Manning chuckled softly. “I certainly did.”
Emma cut to the chase. “Was that your doing?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Someone called Grant and told him I was upsetting George and Celeste with ghost talk and questions about Tessa North. Was it you?”
“You know what they say about making assumptions.”
“I’ve already been made out to be an ass on TV. I can’t see where I have anything to lose here.”
“Emma, do I really seem like the type of man who would go running to Grant Whitecastle? He may be the son of my best friend, but, personally, I find him to be a greasy little worm.” When she didn’t answer, he gave a short chuckle and continued. “Believe me, Emma, had I thought your questions were upsetting George and Celeste, I would have told you to your face last night.”
“What about Denise Dowd? When was the last time you saw her?”
“Ah, yes, the murdered woman. The police came by late yesterday afternoon. Truth is, I didn’t remember her, and I told the police so. Even provided them with an alibi for the time in question.”
“Denise Dowd was another one of the young actresses from forty years ago. A roommate of Tessa North’s.”
“So the police told me.” A few seconds passed while Manning thought about it. “As I recall, Tessa roomed with a couple of girls. Was Denise the pretty one or the plain one?”
“The pretty one.”
“Now I vaguely remember her, but we never got very close. I lost touch with most of those people once my political career took off. Is she now another ghost on your list?” Emma could hear his smirk through the phone. “Are she and Tessa frolicking together over on Catalina now?”
Emma ignored the remark. “Doesn’t it seem strange that the same day I questioned her about Tessa North, the same day you came to visit me, and the same day my Lexus was spraypainted, someone chose to kill Denise? In fact, she was murdered shortly before you came by to see me.”
“Is that an accusation?”
“Just stating the facts. I saw Denise. She was murdered. You dropped in, unannounced, at my home. All in the same day.”
“Sounds like you’re a busy little bee. And, like I said, I gave the police an accounting of my whereabouts.”
Emma pressed on. “So when was the last time you saw Denise?”
“I honestly don’t remember her much, Emma. There were several girls who chummed around with Tessa. I remember Tessa because I had a short-lived affair with her. Had I not, she’d be just another forgotten pretty face. And it seems to me, you’d be better served forgetting her yourself.”
“What about Fran Hyland? Do you remember her?”
There was a slight pause on Manning’s end. “Yes, I know Fran.”
“You said you know her, not knew or remember her. I’m guessing you’ve seen her more recently than forty years ago.”
“That’s because I’ve done business with Fran in recent years. She has a professional placement business here in LA. But being the smart girl you are, I’m sure you already know that.”
“Yes, I do. I spoke with Ms. Hyland a coupl
e of days ago.”
“I’ve hired a few of her applicants over the years. Nothing beyond that.”
“Did you have a fling with her back in the old days, too?”
The senator laughed. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. Everyone had a fling with Fran back then. But that’s ancient history.”
Emma pulled her notebook out of her purse and scanned the other names. “How about Shelly Campbell?”
This time the pause on the other end was long enough for Emma to prod. “Senator?”
“I remember Shelly. She stood out from the others because she was a dancer. She was very tall, with legs that went on forever…rather like yours.”
Emma was glad the conversation was taking place by phone. Otherwise, Manning would have seen how nervous he was making her.
“And no,” he added before Emma could ask, “I never had an affair with Shelly. I heard she got a big contract in Vegas and never saw her again after she left town.”
A lot of Manning’s story was fitting with Denise’s information. Manning could have hired someone to spraypaint her car and to kill Denise, but he seemed like he didn’t care if his past came to light. But it could be all a very good act. He was a former actor and a career politician—two backgrounds custom-made for spinning words and putting on a front.
“Now,” added Manning. “How about dinner. I might think Grant despicable, but I’ve always found you to be rather fetching.”
Emma tapped the end of her pen over and over on point three on the paper until the gathering of dots merged into a small inkblot.
“Earth to Emma.”
Standing in her doorway was Jackie, looking concerned. If being questioned by the police had rattled the young woman, she didn’t show it. After the detectives left, Emma and Jackie resumed their plans, taking Emma’s SUV into the body shop, then stopping off for a long lunch. But instead of an early lunch, it had been a late one. They’d used the time to go over the details, hoping to find something that might have been overlooked and might point them toward Denise’s murderer and Tessa’s disappearance.
“I called your name. Didn’t you hear me?”
Emma gave herself a shake. “Guess I was lost in my thoughts.”
“Your mother is on the line,” Jackie announced. “She said she tried calling your cell, but it kept going to voicemail, so she called the studio.”
While Emma was speaking with Worth Manning, two calls had come in on her cell, but she’d been so engrossed with the conversation, she hadn’t bothered checking to see who was calling. Her parents were due home the next day. Worried, Emma picked up her office phone and punched the blinking light.
“Hi, Mother? Everything okay?” She hoped her parents hadn’t seen the news about her fight with Grant. If they hadn’t, she wasn’t going to break it to them this way.
“Everything’s fine, dear. We got off the ship just a little while ago and wanted to call you. Though we’re a bit surprised to find you at your office on a Saturday.”
“We got called in for a special meeting. I’m sorry I missed your earlier calls. Did you have a nice time?”
“Wonderful! In fact, Emma, that’s one of the reasons we’re calling. Your father and I met this lovely couple on the ship. They were positively raving about this little place in Key West. And you know your father, how he loves adventures. So we’d like to hop down to Key West for a few days. That is, unless you feel we should come straight home.”
Emma cringed. There was something in her mother’s tone that suggested they’d seen the video. “Why might I need you to come home?” She forced mirth into her voice. “I’m all grown up, and the house and Archie are fine. Even Granny’s behaving herself, sort of.”
“Hmm.”
The single sound confirmed that her mother knew about the fight with Grant. “You saw it, didn’t you?”
“If you’re referring to your public brawl with Grant, no, thankfully, we did not see it. But we heard about it on the news last night. And people were talking about it at breakfast this morning on the ship.” Her mother paused. “Are you all right, Emma? We heard that Grant nearly shoved you under a car.”
“I’m fine, Mother. Grant didn’t push me under a car, just against my SUV. Jackie was there to make sure he didn’t do anything more. I’m sure you’ll hear all the gory details from Mrs. Collins when you get home.”
Elizabeth Miller chuckled softly. “Was she hiding behind her rose bushes?”
“Like always.” Emma took a deep breath. “Mother, I’m sorry the video embarrassed you and Dad. We had no idea that bottom-feeder was filming us.”
“I won’t lie, Emma. At first we were a bit uncomfortable, but we quickly got over it. We’re much more concerned about you than any fake scandal. There were a few people on the cruise who knew you were our daughter and, I must tell you, they really rallied in your defense. Everyone’s very glad you dumped that bozo Grant when you did.”
Emma didn’t correct her mother that it was actually Grant who had dumped her.
“And what about your car? Something about the dead?”
Emma explained to her mother about the vandalism, suggesting that it must have been related to her show. She carefully edited out Tessa North and murder. There would be time enough to go into that when her parents came home.
“Dad and I are very worried about you,” Elizabeth repeated. “We don’t understand what could have riled Grant up like that.”
“I’m fine, Mother. Really. I recently visited George and had lunch with Celeste. Grant was given some misinformation about both encounters. He thought I’d endangered George’s health.”
“Well, that’s just plain ridiculous. You love the Whitecastles. You’d never do such a thing.”
“That’s what I told him.”
Assured that Emma was fine and that Grant was no longer a threat, the Millers decided to go on to Key West. Emma missed her parents but was happy that they were having such a lovely, long vacation. And with them in the Keys, she didn’t have to be concerned about them worrying about her getting involved in another murder. It was another thing on her mental list that she could scratch off for now.
“By the way, Mother—Phil and I think everyone should get together in Julian for Christmas. We can properly christen my cabin. What do you think?”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea. Today, the warm, sultry sea, and in a few weeks, the coolness of winter in the mountains. It’s perfect.”
When she ended the call with her mother, Emma went out to Jackie’s desk. “Do you have a copy of that phone and address information for Paul Feldman?” she asked her. “I left my copy at home.”
After Jackie produced a copy and handed it to her, Emma told her to go home and enjoy the rest of her weekend. Then she went back into her office, closed the door, and placed a call to Paul Feldman’s cell phone.
“Mr. Feldman,” she began after he answered. “This is Emma Whitecastle.”
“Hello.” Although warm toward her a few days ago, today Paul Feldman sounded cool and distant.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“I’m afraid I’m quite busy at the moment. What can I help you with, Emma?”
Leading with the less controversial subject on her agenda, Emma asked, “Did you see the news last night about Grant and me?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I did. Ruth and I are terribly sorry you had to go through that. It looked to us like Grant was totally out of line.” The temperature in Feldman’s voice defrosted a bit.
“Did you tell Grant that I visited George and upset him?”
“No, not at all.” Feldman sounded genuinely surprised by Emma’s question. “I can’t remember the last time I spoke with Grant. And your little visit with George seemed to have uplifted him. He was actually laughing about your ghost encounter over our lunch.”
“I’m very glad to hear that.” She paused, setting the stage for her next approach. “I don’t want to be a pest, Mr. Feldman, but I’d like to ask you a f
ew more questions about Tessa North. Would it be possible to meet somewhere?”
“I told you all I know when I saw you a few days ago.” The frost was back in his voice. Emma could feel it through the phone line. “And this morning, I told the police all I know about both Tessa and Denise Dowd.”
It was obvious to Emma that Detective Tillman was wasting no time going down her list of people connected with her research on Tessa North. George and Celeste had probably been contacted already, too, as well as Fran Hyland. It was going to be very difficult for Emma to do any deeper digging with these folks.
“I have just a few more questions. Who knows, they might help you remember something new that could help the police.” Emma kept her tone relaxed, hoping it would ease her way into setting something up with Paul Feldman. “May I buy you lunch?”
“No, Emma, you may not.” His voice migrated from cold to snappish. “It’s time you dropped this foolishness before someone else gets hurt.”
The line went dead.
Following her call with Paul Feldman, Emma tried to concentrate on working on The Whitecastle Report. In light of the overnight interest in her show, during their meeting that morning, the producers had provided several ideas for future shows and wanted Emma to review them and do some preliminary research to see if they would be feasible. She and Jackie had also presented ideas of their own. Jackie was hot to trot about the Catalina concept. Originally planned to be a show about the various spirits haunting the historic island, Jackie felt viewers would be more interested in how the research led to solving a forty-year-old murder.
“It’s a natural,” Jackie had insisted before they went into the meeting. “Murder always brings in the audience. It jacks the ratings.”
Jackie Houchin may still be young, but there was no denying she had a nose for what viewers liked. If The Whitecastle Report continued to grow in popularity, Emma planned on suggesting that Jackie be promoted.
“I know you’re right, Jackie, but Tessa’s murder hasn’t been confirmed yet. And the producers may not know about the Denise Dowd connection; I’d rather they didn’t for now, not on the heels of the Grant incident.” Seeing the frustration on Jackie’s face, Emma had added, “Tell you what, if it turns out that Tessa North was murdered and we have proof of it, I will consider doing a show about it.”
Ghost in the Polka Dot Bikini: A Ghost of Granny Apples Mystery Page 17