Walter sagged in Frank’s hold, alternately sobbing and whimpering Lucy’s name. The sirens cut off. Two more young women ran to the front of the crowd and screamed in tandem. The same two EMTs as before ran across the lighthouse’s lawn. Two police officers came around from the opposite side of the patio and ran across the flagstones. The EMTs and the police skidded to a stop.
Only for a moment. Then one police officer herded the crowd back while the other stepped over a splash pattern of blood and brain matter.
One EMT felt Lucy’s wrist and set it down, then all three backed out between the rivulets of blood.
Swimmers abandoned the water to follow the line of people climbing the slope to the patio.
“You killed her, Mac,” Walter said, still blubbering. “If you’d lent me the money we wouldn’t have had to scare it out of you.” He tried to go to Lucy’s body, but Frank held him back. “You killed her, you cheap bitch. You killed her.”
More beachgoers ran onto the grass. So many camera phones clicked it sounded like hail hitting the patio stones. Anthony and Joel carried the groggy Marion off to one side. The texting teenage girl from earlier at the boat dock looked to be taking panoramic video until her mother snatched the phone out of her hands.
The older police officer walked over to Mac and Giulia. “Ms. Stone? What happened here?”
At that moment Solana appeared on the doorstep, still in the white skirt and Van Halen t-shirt. She raised her right arm, pointed to the top of the lighthouse, and intoned, “Dorothea Stone is avenged.”
Fifty
Everyone shut up. Mac lost her stupefied expression and glared at Solana. The police officers glanced at each other. Someone in the crowd giggled.
Solana stalked toward Lucy’s body, one bright gold fingernail aimed at it. “The spirits will not be mocked. Their power courses through me. They demand to be heard.”
The younger police officer left the EMTs and stopped Solana outside the perimeter of blood splatters.
“Ma’am, do you have information about what happened here?”
Solana didn’t even glance at him. “The spirit of Dorothea Stone protects this place. Those who disregard her warnings will suffer her fate.”
A dozen phones recorded everything. Joel held his own and Frank’s; Giulia recognized the Pittsburgh Pirates case.
“This will be on YouTube as soon as she stops talking,” Frank said.
Mac’s re-injured arm combined with Solana’s dramatics appeared to have cured Mac’s stupor. “That woman is a menace.”
“Think of the publicity,” Giulia said.
“What? ‘Come to Stone’s Throw, home of the murderous ghost?’ My email will be filled with canceled reservations. I’ll be bankrupt in a month.”
Solana capped Mac’s prophecy. “Heed this warning, all you who do not respect the Stone legacy.”
A teenage boy imitated Solana’s sepulchral voice: “You’re all doomed.”
The three boys with him snickered.
“I will tell you of Dorothea Stone and her eternal watchings in the night.” Solana swept her sunken-eyed gaze over the crowd. “Listen well, and keep in mind the fate of scoffers.” The gold fingernail aimed at Lucy’s body.
Giulia caught the eye of one of the EMTs and beckoned him over. “Mac’s arm was re-injured in the situation up there.”
The younger police officer joined them. “Coroner and backup coming down the driveway. Mac, as soon as you’re patched up I’ll need a statement.”
Giulia stepped forward. “I’m a private investigator here at Mac’s request.”
He took out a notepad and pen. “I’m ready when you are.”
Giulia told him about the vandalism and the apparent hauntings that started after the article in the local paper. While she talked, Solana shouted down the hecklers, her hair breaking its bonds of obedience and flying around her head like Medusa’s snakes. The coroner and extra police took over the crime scene, herding the crowd away, taking pictures, marking the outline of the body. At least three teenagers climbed on their friends’ shoulders to keep their videos going.
Frank was already giving his story to the older police officer. Walter had at last stopped whining and switched to blaming Mac for every job he’d failed at because she wouldn’t give him his share of her inheritance. The officer cautioned him twice but Walter kept right on venting.
Giulia repeated everything Walter and Lucy had said and done to Mac up on the gallery.
The EMTs brought out the gurney.
“I am not a helpless old woman,” Mac said. “My legs work fine. It’s my arm and my face that need fixing up. For that I’ll need my dentist and my regular doctor, not another trip to the emergency room.”
The buzzcut EMT said, “Mac, you really should have your face and arm x-rayed.”
The droopy mustache EMT said, “The insurance companies pay claims faster when they get information directly following an incident.”
“I want that woman off my property.” Mac pointed to Solana.
Giulia said to the police officer, “One second, please,” before she turned to Mac. “All those people are getting this mess on video. If you have the police drag Solana away, you could look like the bad guy suppressing great spiritual truths.”
Mac groaned.
“But,” Giulia said, “if you let her ramble until she winds down, all those videos will load to YouTube and link to Twitter with hashtags for Stone’s Throw.”
“Oh, yeah, Mac,” the mustached EMT said. “My sister in Altoona is into spiritualism big time. She called me to tell me about the two videos with your psychic friends already on YouTube. If she watches this performance she’ll drag my brother-in-law here for their next vacation.”
“See?” Giulia said. “You’re worried about losing clientele, but have you considered a subtle shift in the year-round focus of Stone’s Throw? The only Bed & Breakfast with a family ghost. Something like that.”
Mac appeared to study the bricks of the lighthouse. “That’s an idea.”
The younger police officer came over to them. “Mac, I have the statement of the private investigator you hired. Can you tell me what happened in your own words?”
Mac’s expression sharpened. “It’s simple. My housekeeper Lucy and my nephew Walter, who are married to each other, decided the legend of the family gold was real and tried to kill me to get their hands on it. Ms. Driscoll here saved my life today by surprising them where they’d trapped me up on the Widow’s Walk. When Lucy tried to attack Ms. Driscoll, she—Lucy—fell through the railing which either Lucy or my nephew had deliberately damaged earlier.” She glanced at the patio, where the coroner’s staff was bagging up the body.
“See the reward of those who refuse to believe!” Solana said from her new position atop the glass coffee table in front of the patio couch.
“That woman is standing on my furniture.” Mac took a step toward her, but stopped when Giulia put a hand on her good arm. “All right. Let’s go get x-rays. Giulia, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
The older officer said to Frank and Giulia, “Statements now?”
“Sure,” Frank said. “We’ll follow you there.”
Giulia said, “With Mac gone, there isn’t anyone to watch the house. Could someone in authority stay here until she gets back? All these gawkers could mean trouble.”
“Sure thing. Hey, Chris, can you hang here for a while in case the audience decides to grab souvenirs?”
The younger officer gave him a thumbs-up.
The backup police officers handcuffed Walter and got him into the back of their patrol car. The EMTs wheeled the gurney with the body bag out to the ambulance. Solana appeared to be winding down. Chris stationed himself at the door leading into the lighthouse. Two of the teenagers who weren’t record
ing Solana took a few steps toward the lighthouse, saw Chris, and found something interesting back toward the beach. A small group of adults and children wandered the grounds, taking pictures of everything. A seagull landed near the discolored patio stones and a woman shooed it away.
Frank and Giulia followed the EMTs out to the parking lot.
“I would like nothing but background check cases for the next two months,” Giulia said. “Maybe I’ll allow an asset search or two.”
Frank buckled himself in. “Those are the most boring jobs we ever had.”
“Bingo.”
Fifty-One
Mac returned after four o’clock. Giulia and Frank had picked up a pizza on the way back from giving their statements to the police. Mac brought out a bottle of local red wine and the three of them sat at the trestle table in the antique kitchen.
“This is all going to hit me soon,” Mac said. “Lucy was a sweetheart. Always smiling, always full of energy. We used to talk about her plans for the future and ways to get Walter off his lazy butt. I had no idea…about any of this.” She drank her wineglass dry.
Frank refilled everyone’s glasses.
“I don’t understand people who sit and wait for success and good fortune to rain down on them.” Giulia slid another piece of pizza onto all their plates.
“The idea of a mountain of gold is too much like a fairy tale to resist for some,” Frank said.
“About that.” Mac’s puffy lips made a hint of a grimace. “I lied to you.”
Giulia batted her eyes at Mac.
“I know. I’m sorry. You know what possessing a mountain of fairy tale gold does? It makes you distrust everyone.” She adjusted her dislocated arm, now in a soft cast. “How am I going to handle breakfast tomorrow?”
“I’ll help,” Giulia said. “So about this non-mythical gold?”
“I should be paying you. Oh, wait. I am.” Mac’s lips approximated a smile. “To be honest, truly and finally, nothing held back, most of the story I tell everyone is true. We did have an outlaw ancestor who robbed stagecoaches. He was caught and hanged, and he did tell his wife where he hid everything he stole. This is where it changes. She found it and used a very little of it to survive. Her eldest son did the same, and on down the generations.”
“By the time your turn came?” Frank said.
Mac tried for another wry smile. Her lips refused to cooperate. “I did rent scuba equipment and explore the caves. I found a small box with twenty coins. Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, I thought. I’d brought a bag with me to collect shells and the like to decorate the house with.”
“And as camouflage just in case you found something valuable?” Giulia said.
“Well, yes. When I cleaned and dried the box, I found a set of directions scratched on the inside, like a puzzle. A few words in each group, all over the inside like a crazy quilt. It took me a couple of weeks to piece them together.” She drank a little more wine.
Giulia leaned forward. “This is as good as the story you tell the newbies.”
Half of Mac’s mouth smiled. “People say I have a knack for storytelling. The directions led me to my great-grandfather’s grave. Seriously. He’d ordered one of those tombstones with a round glass inset for a photograph of himself. The frame of the glass was a different kind of puzzle. When I got it open, a key fell out.” She paused. “That’s where the exciting mystery ends. The key belonged to a safe deposit box in his and my names. I’d completely forgotten that for my eighteenth birthday he opened the box with me and placed eighteen silver dollars in it for me. When I opened it again after finding the key, it was packed to the gills with five-dollar coins from the late 1880s.”
“Quite a nest egg,” Frank said.
“I used a few to help finance the restoration, but I haven’t touched them since. I wanted to make a go of Stone’s Throw on my own.”
Giulia said, “Coming clean to your private investigator helps her get results faster.”
“I know, I know. But I was sure the whole purpose of the scheme was to force me out and take over my successful business.” She eased in the last bite of her pizza via the undamaged side of her mouth. “Walter couldn’t turn a profit with a lemonade stand during a heat wave. I loaned him money to pay off his student loans and he never paid me back. He’s hated me since I bought the lighthouse. Great-Grandpa’s legacy to him was a series of books on how to be successful.”
“That’s why you thought he was behind the haunting.”
Mac stared at Giulia, her eyes surrounded by dark circles. “How did you know?”
Giulia didn’t reveal how she’d been ready to accuse Mac’s best friend. Happy clients paid their bills faster. “Walter plus Lucy, to be precise. Lucy for all the hard work and the constant goad of her half-life over the boat shop.”
That didn’t seem to register on Mac’s consciousness. “Lucy and Walter trying to kill me up on the gallery proves the haunting was phony, doesn’t it? I mean, that means they’ve been behind everything.” She closed her eyes but opened them right away. “I mean, it all means Solana’s a fraud and a basket case. Right?”
Mac probably shouldn’t be drinking wine on top of whatever the ER shot her up with, but Giulia wasn’t about to preach teetotaling to someone who’d escaped death twice in two days. She put on her best reassurance face. “Solana is…enthusiastic. She’s like those ghost hunting TV shows that crank up the sensitivity meters on their instruments so every click and creak sounds like contact from beyond the grave. The only person haunting Stone’s Throw was Lucy and her puppet theater skills.”
Mac deflated. “I’m so glad. Not that Lucy died like that, even though she wanted me to end up the same way. I’m glad there isn’t really a Stone family ghost. I never liked horror movies.”
Fifty-Two
The following Saturday the doorbell rang and a minute later Frank called up to Giulia, “Package for you. I signed for it.”
“Be right there.” Giulia checked the timer on her phone and came downstairs. An extra-large FedEx box lay on the kitchen table.
“Who’s it from? Oh, Mac. We didn’t leave anything there, did we?”
Frank handed her the kitchen scissors. “Not that I know of. Maybe she’s giving us one of the gloomy paintings in the dining room.”
Giulia hefted the box. “Too heavy for that. Maybe it’s the evil antique clown doll.”
“If it is, I vote we take it outside and burn it.”
“Agreed.” Giulia sawed open the end of the box and pulled out a thick wad of bubble wrap. “It’s not the doll.”
“I can’t see what’s inside. This is fun.”
“It’s a book on ghost hunting.”
“It’s an invitation to Solana’s new séance gig.”
“How about it’s a check for our fee?” Giulia peeled two pieces of tape from one side of the puffy square.
Frank patted the table. “Come on, come on.”
“For a detective, you sure don’t like mysteries.” She unrolled the bubble wrap a little slower.
“You are a tease, woman.” He feinted a snatch at it.
She slid to the opposite end of the table. “Patience is a virtue…oh, all right.” She flopped the dwindling package over and over until the last of the bubble wrap fell away.
“A tube of Earl Grey loose leaf tea?” Frank’s voice changed from puzzled to disappointed.
“It’s too heavy for that.”
Giulia popped open the lid and poured a stack of gold coins into her hand. Her voice failed her.
“Cait naofa,” Frank said.
The coins spilled from Giulia’s palm onto the bubble wrap. “Three—seven—ten—twelve. ‘Holy cats’ is right. What are these worth? She must have sent an explanation.”
Frank took the empty cylind
er from Giulia’s hand. “Nothing else in here.” He tried the lid. “Aha.” He pried a folded piece of paper from the inside.
“‘Dear Giulia and Frank,’” he read, “‘I received your invoice and wrote a check for the total. When I realized you didn’t include a line item for saving my life twice in one week I tore up the check. What you have here are twelve Liberty five-dollar coins from my great-great-great-grandfather’s stash. They were all minted between 1877 and 1883. I haven’t valued the entire collection, but my educated guess is these coins are each worth between,’” Frank’s voice failed, but he shook it off and continued, “‘between eighteen hundred and twenty-one hundred dollars.”
Giulia gasped.
Frank continued, “‘If you’ll take the advice of an old woman who successfully expanded a hotel chain into the entire northeast, you’ll get yourselves a safe deposit box and pretend these don’t exist. Hard work will bring you success, but it’s nice to know you have something to fall back on just in case. With my thanks, Mac.’”
Giulia said in a shaky voice, “Twenty-one thousand dollars at a minimum.”
“Cait naofa.”
“We can’t accept this.”
“The hell we can’t.”
“Frank.” Giulia made an effort of strength and looked away from the coins. “This is incredible.”
“Mac’s right. You saved her life twice. You saved her business. It’s a generous and extravagant and perfectly correct gesture.” He poured the coins through his hands. “Now I know why misers fondle their hoard.”
Giulia’s phone buzzed against her hip. She had no idea how long it had been buzzing. Without a word, she ran upstairs into the bathroom and straight to the sink. Her hand trembled the least bit as she picked up the home pregnancy test to see if the window showed one pink line or two.
About the Author
Second To Nun (A Giulia Driscoll Mystery Book 2) Page 26