A Sinister Slice of Murder: A Jessie Delacroix Murder Mystery (Whispering Pines Mystery Series Book 1)

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A Sinister Slice of Murder: A Jessie Delacroix Murder Mystery (Whispering Pines Mystery Series Book 1) Page 3

by Constance Barker


  “Ashley could use a little help in the dining room, sweetie.”

  It was Mom.

  “Hey, Madz, it sounds like people are starting to come in. Let’s see if Ashley needs a hand. Thanks, Carlo!” He seemed happy to have his little taster back.

  “Hi, girls! Thanks for covering for me.” Lexi ran in through the lobby entrance to the kitchen. She had some kind of appointment in the morning; dentist, I think. Carlo handed her a wedge as she flew by. “Maddy, some people are coming up the steps and will be at the front desk in a minute.”

  “Looks like things are good here, Maddy. As soon as you get the guests checked in let’s set up the solarium for Mr. St. George.”

  Carlo pretended not to notice when I palmed a slice of chicken and a piece of ham for Arthur, who was scratching at the kitchen door now, and I went out to greet him in the lobby.

  “Hey, my little boy, are you having fun?”

  He scarfed down the meaty treats in a flash, barked twice at the guests at the desk, and then trotted off to his little doggie bed just inside the solarium. He was king of his new domain and loved the easy indoor-outdoor access from the courtyard to the open solarium. The sun was right above the Inn now, but it would be starting to fill the sunroom soon. By mid-afternoon the tall pines would shield the grounds and the house from its more punishing rays.

  Lionel brought the bags up the stairs to the second floor for the early arrivals and then helped us set up the big round table in the middle of the solarium.

  “Why do we need the big table for a reading, Madz?”

  “It’s not exactly a reading. It’s a séance. Irene is going to channel the boy.”

  “Séance!” Oh, geez. “I don’t really want our place associated with a lot of phony baloney, Maddy.”

  “Hey, you’re a haunted inn, darlin’. And according to you – since yesterday, at least – ghosts are real.”

  “Yeah, but…” Okay. She had me there.

  “Oh – and don’t go anywhere tonight. Irene says she needs at least 10 people around the table to make it work.”

  “Oh, no. I’m not…”

  “He’s paying $500 for the room.”

  “I’ll be here!”

  We had a full house for the weekend. All four of the second-floor rooms were full, and our special guests were just pulling up in front. Once again I noticed the golden eyes of the pawnbroker looking out through the window of his shop. Such bright eyes for such an old man.

  The long black Cadillac Escalade stopped right in front. It had been converted into a stretch limo with a movie theater in back for the boys.

  The driver got out first and walked around to the passengers’ side. He was well over six feet tall, African American, with a chiseled athletic body. He wore a plain black visor cap, tight black T-shirt and pants, and aviator-style Ray-Bans. He might as well have had Navy Seal tattooed on his forehead. He opened the front door for the 17-year-old daughter, the back door for Mr. and Mrs. St. George, and the hatchback door for the boys.

  Curious and excited onlookers were gathering around from the Inn and from the crowded avenue of antique shoppers who had invaded Whispering Pines for the day.

  “Thank you, Hector,” Mrs. St. George said as she exited the back seat.

  Hector tipped his cap slightly. “Ma’am.”

  “Please – call me ‘Alicia,’ Hector.”

  The teenage girl was admiring Hector’s ample biceps and stealing little glimpses of his stone face and chest. The two boys ran out of the back, and one of them pointed at the girl.

  “Ooohh! Cassie’s got a boyfriend!” they sang together, then giggled and ran up the steps and over to the porch swing.

  “That’s enough, boys,” their mother scolded. “Now remember to be on your best behavior. We’re guests here.” She was casually but quite fashionably dressed in a short turquoise jump suit and appeared to be about 35.

  Finally, the door on the other side of the car opened and a dignified man in his early 50s rose to his 5’10” stature. Standing on the custom running board, he turned to face the Inn, giving a broad smile and a friendly wave. He was looking rather European, in that “eccentric artist” sort of way, in a robin’s egg blue suit to match his eyes, no necktie, and white loafers. He wore a small-brimmed white fedora with a colorful patterned hatband and his trademark over-sized horn-rimmed glasses. You could hear a low chattering roar rising from the crowd as he walked around the vehicle to the join his wife.

  Ashley Thorpe, our waitress, was standing in the open French doors on the front of the Nirvana Tea Room, watching in awe. She was an 18-year-old blonde beauty (and actually, I had been her babysitter when I was in high school, though I never had a make-out session on her couch). She was taking a year off after high school to earn enough money for tuition (and, believe me, with her smile and personality, the little hottie made unbelievable tips). She had already been accepted to the prestigious Charleston College of Art & Design, with hopes of becoming a fashion designer herself and possibly interning for DSG, right across the street from the school. Dane St. George was her idol. She couldn’t hold back anymore and finally rushed down the steps and asked the man to autograph her small designer purse.

  They seemed like a lovely, down-to-earth family, and when the fanfare died down I decided to take a walk down the street to re-explore my neighborhood and get my piece of fudge. Sugar Beaton was way too busy to chat, but I did get the fudge. I remembered I needed a bedside table, so I looked to see what she had there too.

  The sidewalks were full on this beautiful fall day as I made my way into a few other shops. Happy Doyle, the forty-something sweaty mechanic at Vintage Motors waved me in, but I just stayed long enough to say hello. He had been trying to flirt with me since the day I graduated from high school, and he was in his flirty mood again today too. I made sure to stay more than an arm’s length away.

  I wasn’t having any luck finding a nightstand that I liked, so I crossed the street and decided to see if Benji Wilkes could make one for me for a reasonable price. He was a really good craftsman and even got some write-ups for his hand carved furniture designs. His shop wasn’t nearly as busy as most, since he mostly did custom work, spending most of his time in the back room building new furniture and restoring old antiques.

  I was surprised to see Alicia St. George was talking to Benji at the counter when I walked in, as they had just arrived less than an hour ago. I guess she was anxious to get a look at the popular shops.

  Benji gave me a wave.

  “Welcome home, stranger! You’re looking just as gorgeous as always.”

  Mrs. St. George looked over her shoulder at me and then grabbed her huge DSG purse and left.

  “Oh, you always say that, you flatterer. Did you miss me?”

  “Haven’t had a thing to eat for three years, just waiting for you to come back.”

  “I’m sure. You do realize that that just makes you pathetic and not interesting, right?” We laughed, and I wondered if that might have sounded mean. He and Happy were pretty much the entire pool of eligible bachelors in town, and I guess I’d rather listen to pick-up lines from Benji than Mr. Doyle. At least Benji was young and good looking. But…meh.

  “So, is Mrs. St. George doing some business with you, Benji?”

  “Oh…um…not sure yet. She wants to surprise her husband with a new…uh… designer’s drawing board for his birthday – you know, like an architect’s desk with a slanted top. I have to work up a quote for her.”

  “Nice! Say, can you make me a little table for the side of my bed? Just something for my alarm clock and a book. Maybe with a drawer. Nothing fancy.”

  “Give me a week. I’ll just charge you for the materials.”

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  Chapter Four

  I dug Arthur’s leash out of my suitcase and took him for a walk through the pine trees. Further back, where the tre
es ended, it started to get swampy, where the river bent around behind the Inn.

  “Don’t ever go any farther back there into the swamp,” I said to him in my most serious tone. “There are lots of scary monsters back there – and the alligators will eat you!” I think he got the message. Probably not. “Now, let’s get back to the Inn for the big spooky ghost thing.”

  “Ruff!”

  It was October, so the sun would set by 7:00 p.m., and it would be good and dark by 7:30 or so.

  “No moon tonight, Jessie,” Carlo told me, “so it will be very dark in the solarium, and Madame Irene won’t allow any lights in the courtyard.”

  “Well, come on. We’re going to need you there too Carlo.”

  “Good evening, everyone, and thanks for joining us here. Your life energy and mind power will be very important in guiding and comforting young Jacob’s spirit so that he will willingly join us here tonight.”

  Madame Irene stood at the end of the open solarium facing the rest of us seated at the table. She looked less cheesy than I expected in a full length, multi-colored gypsy peasant dress and a matching scarf wrapped neatly around her head with the tails hanging over her back.

  “Mr. St. George, I would like you to sit at this end of the table between your wife and daughter, and I will sit across from you on the other side, with the gateway to the spirit realm behind you, outside. I will call Jacob forth from there.”

  Give me a break. The boy’s spirit is going to come wandering in from the trees and the swamp? Let’s get this going; I’ve got a big night with Netflix lined up.

  Irene gave us the rest of the instructions and our seating assignments, and then Lionel dimmed the lights.”

  “More,” Irene commanded, and Lionel complied.

  “Darker, she said. “Darker…darker…okay. That’s just right.”

  It was really dark. Lionel took his seat across from me. Irene lit a small candle in front of her and sat with her back to the closed doors to the lobby. Hector stood guard in front of the doors with his hands folded in front of him and his feet a shoulder’s length apart. To Irene’s left were Maddy, Carlo, Me, Cassie and Mr. St. George. Continuing around, it was Alicia St. George, Lionel, Kyle and Lexi Carnigan, and Irene.

  Okay, this was getting kind of spooky. Where was Arthur? I hoped he wouldn’t ruin the somber mood with a happy bark. It was pitch black outside now; I couldn’t even see the pine trees. I caught a glimmer of candlelight bouncing off Ashley’s blonde locks, as she was sneaking as peek from the edge of the curtains, just outside the doors. Then I saw another glowing form – two of them. I should have figured there would be no keeping my nosy grandmother away, and Mom was there with her too, with a finger to her lips. Don’t worry, Mom. I won’t tell anyone you’re here.

  “Please place the palms of your hands flat on the table in front of you. Good. Now touch the tips of your thumbs together, and touch the tips of your pinkie fingers to the finger of your two neighbors. Do not lose that connection, or our contact with the spirit realm will be broken. If you sense a spirit trying to connect with you, do not fight it. This is normal and will help us in our journey into the spectral realm. If I sense evil spirits, I will terminate the connection.”

  Evil spirits? Swell. I’m just getting used to the good ones.

  Irene did some incantations to protect us and burnt a sprig of sage in the candle flame. Then she called for the boy. “Jacob Daniel St. George. We are your friends and your family, and we mean you no harm.”

  Blah…blah…blah.

  “Speak, Jacob!” She looked up toward the ceiling, but no response came. At least she wasn’t faking an answer.

  I saw Granny get all frustrated, and Mom was trying to keep her at bay. All of a sudden, Granny disappeared, and I felt a familiar presence take over my body. Then I heard her voice – coming from my lips!

  “Hi, folks. We got somebody running to get little Jacob. Sweet kid.”

  Everybody’s eyes were on me, and I felt like a spectator too, a little uncomfortable from the unexpected takeover. But Mom was having none of it.

  “You get out of my daughter, mother! She doesn’t need to be part of your little show.”

  She bumped Granny out of me, but I still heard the old bird’s voice as she continued – but now it was coming from Madame Irene. All the heads swayed towards her.

  “Look, Jacob says he’s real sorry about what he did. He was riding that new yellow tricycle really fast, and he knew he shouldn’t be riding there by the pool, but he couldn’t get the latch open on the gate to go out to the sidewalk.”

  The boy’s sister and mother were weeping loudly already, and the father’s eye’s were ready to overflow too.

  “Ya know, he’s kind of scared to come because he thinks you might be mad at him for disobeying…”

  “No, Jacob! We love you!” His mother was a blubbering mess of tears now. “It was my fault honey, not yours! You didn’t do anything wrong, baby.”

  “Well, you should know that there are a lot of us here who are taking real good care of him. Hold on…I think he’s coming.”

  Granny left, and I could feel a gentle and happy little spirit enter the room and settle gently into Irene. I could see in her eyes that he was so light and youthful. It was an amazing reminder of my younger days. I guess the Irene did have some psychic chops.

  “Mommy…Daddy…and Cassieeee!” He burst with excitement when his and Irene’s eyes fell on his beautiful big sister. “I…I’m really sorry I made you all feel so sad and cry so much.”

  There wasn’t a dry eye at the table, and Carlo was wailing and whimpering worst of all. Maybe he should ask the Wizard for some courage.

  “Please don’t cry anymore…” The little boy was getting a little choked up too. “It makes me sad when…Wait! Something feels bad, Mommy. I don’t know…I can feel like something bad…”

  Without warning the lights went out, and even the little candle was snuffed. The startled people took their hands from the table, and the connection was broken. They were panicking and shouting questions.

  “What happened? What’s going on?”

  I think that was Lexi. I heard Lionel get up and try to fumble his way toward the light switches.

  Hector was trying to take command, but it was completely dark.

  “Everybody, stay right where you are! Don’t anybody move!”

  We had to leave our cell phones in the lobby so they wouldn’t disturb the spirits, so we couldn’t even us those to shed a little dim light.

  Then, after maybe just ten or twenty seconds of darkness, just as quickly as they had gone off, the lights came on to full brightness. It took a moment for our eyes to adjust, but it wasn’t long before I heard a blood-curdling scream. It was coming from Maddy, and she was pointing across the table at Mr. St. George. There were more screams, and then Cassie fainted dead away and fell to the floor right next to me. I followed the stunned eyes of the others, their jaws wide open, unable to speak. They were all looking at Mr. St. George.

  I looked over at him too. Oh…My…God!

  Lionel finally found his voice. “It’s gone! His head…where is it?”

  The bloody stump of Dane St. George’s neck was protruding above his collar. His torso fell forward onto the table, and we all jumped from our chairs and took several steps back. But none of us could take our eyes from the body of the headless designer in the middle of my solarium.

  His head was not just cut off; it was gone!

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  Chapter Five

  Needless to say, pandemonium was running wild in the solarium. Arthur had scampered, toenails flailing, across the wooden floor to the open doors near the curtain, and he was yipping at our very frightened waitress.

  Hector was shouting orders. “Somebody…turn on the courtyard floodlights at once! Every second is precious!”

  “Working on it!” Lio
nel responded from near the back wall.

  Alicia St. George leaned over her husband’s headless corpse and then looked at her stepdaughter’s limp form on the floor. She didn’t know which way to turn, as the tears for her deceased child were replaced by a stunned and silent pallor.

  “He’s beyond help now, ma’am. We should help your daughter.”

  Carlo turned Cassie’s chair away from the gory scene. He got on one knee and raised her head and back to an upright position. Then he put his other arm beneath her knees and lifted her onto the chair, still unconscious. Alicia called her stepdaughter’s name softly as she gently caressed her face.

  Irene and the others had gathered at our side of the table too, and Kyle phoned the sheriff’s office in Stony Point.

  “What kind of evil spirit has done this to my husband!” Alicia nearly shouted at the stunned medium. “How could you let this happen! You said you would not let any evil spirits come through.”

  “This was no spirit, Mrs. St. George.” Irene was calm and deliberate. “I would have sensed it.”

  “Of course it was! We all saw it,” the distraught woman insisted.

  “Alicia, it was your son who sensed the evil. He was tuned into our realm, and I into his. He felt a horror from this world that was about to befall your husband.”

  Mom was behind me a second later. “She may be right, Jessie, but I’m not sure. An evil force could have come through when she opened the portal,” she whispered in my ear, “but I think I would have felt it.”

  Carlo looked at me, sensing that Mom was talking to me, so I walked a few feet away. Kyle was making it clear to everyone that this was a crime scene, and they should not touch or alter anything.

  “You do not have to speak out loud, honey. I will know what you are saying. And you will know what I am saying as well”. She merely transmitted the last sentence to me without speaking. I gave it a try.

  “Mom…what happened? Did you see?”

  “No, honey. I didn’t see anything that might help. And I didn’t see an evil spirit come through either.”

 

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