“Mr. Ramsbottom?” the twins asked in unison.
“Uh-huh,” I said, glaring at Tweety. “You heard me. Confessed.”
Tweety wasn’t looking at me, though. She was looking at Kit Kat—and Kit Kat back at her, identical expressions on their faces.
“I thought you—”
“I thought you—”
“Wait…” Tweety said, pointing at her sister. “You thought I killed Mr. Ramsbottom?” She swung the finger around to point at her own chest. “Why would I kill him? You were the one sleeping with him!”
“Sleeping with him!” Kit Kat yelled. “That old goat?”
“You were always sneaking off with him! I thought you killed him in some sort of lovers’ quarrel.”
“What! Lovers’ quarrel, my heinie. I’ve yet to meet the man worth killing for,” she said, grimacing. She then sat up a little in the bed. “I was trying to help you save your relationship with Mick! I knew how much you loved him. I thought Mr. Ramsbottom was paying him to date his daughter.”
“No,” I corrected, jumping in. “Mr. Ramsbottom didn’t want Olivia with Mick either.”
“Huh,” she said, furrowing her brow. “You know, I remember him being pretty ticked that day when I told him it was a cheap shot to buy Mick a new car. He didn’t say much, but … he must have figured out Olivia had done it.”
Tweety planted her hands on the arms of her chair and straightened herself up. “And what would make you think that I would want to be with a man who could be bought off anyway?”
“I don’t know,” Kit Kat shouted back. “I never understood what you saw in Mick in the first place, but it bugged me that they thought they could interfere with all their money. I was just trying to get to the bottom of everything that day when he died.” She gasped … which made her cough for a moment. “You know, come to think of it, I remember little Sully sulking around that tent—”
“And wait a minute … why would you think I killed him?” Tweety yelled.
“Obviously because he was buying Mick off!”
“Well, I’ll be,” Tweety said, shaking her head. “And to think I spent all those years living with you, taking care of you, watching you … all because I didn’t want you going off and killing someone else.”
“Me?” Kit Kat shrieked. “I’ve been doing that for you!”
“Please,” Tweety muttered.
“I had to!” Kit Kat yelled, flopping her hands on the bed. “Mother made me promise her on her deathbed to take care of you. It was always, Take care of your sister, she’s not like you … might be a little touched,” she said, eyes lost in memory but tapping the side of her head with her finger.
“She always said that to me!”
Freddie leaned over to me. “This is hilarious,” he whispered. “Better than bingo.”
“Why would she say that to you?” Kit Kat shot back. “I mean, between the two of us, I’m clearly the stable one.”
“Stable one? Stable one! You thought you were living with a murderer all these years.” Tweety scoffed. “That’s hardly stable.”
“So did you!”
Both women suddenly stopped yelling and just looked at each other for a moment … before their bellies started to shake. A moment later laughter erupted.
“You know I’ve never noticed it before,” Freddie said, leaning down again to my ear, “but the twins … they can be kind of creepy.”
I nodded.
“I’m glad I’m not living on an island with them.”
I looked at him with big eyes. “Right?”
“Erica,” Tweety said, grabbing my attention back. “I want you to know something. I mean, we want you to know something.” She looked at her sister, who nodded. “I … I’m not good with words but … well, your mother’s always saying you were the best thing that ever happened to her, and we want you to know…” She pinched her lips together and shook her head.
My throat suddenly felt tight.
Kit Kat squeezed her sister’s hand. “What my sister is trying to say is that you and your mother … well, you two are the best things that have ever happened to us.”
I took a shaky breath and nodded.
“You did a good job too, Ng,” she said, looking at Freddie. “Thank you.”
I heard him mumble something like, Yeah, no problem, but it had a definite sniff at the end.
“Okay,” Tweety said, clapping her hands. “Enough of all that. Who’s going to go on that beer run? I could really use a drink.”
Chapter Fifty-two
I spent the rest of the day in the hospital and then the next back home at the retreat. My mother was officially done with her Silence of the Soul vow, and all of the guests had gone home. She kept up the silence, though, for the reporters who kept calling. They didn’t know quite what to do with it, so they eventually gave up. My uncle Jack had left too. We promised to stay in touch. He invited me to come visit anytime I wanted, so I could learn more about our family. I told him I just might take him up on that.
I was planning on staying another day or two even though it might get me in more trouble at work. I just couldn’t see managing the bus with all the pain. I had already missed more work than I had scheduled off, and given that I had received a message from my boss saying that we needed to talk when I got in, I was guessing I had some disciplinary action coming. At least the sling on my arm might buy me some sympathy.
The big issue holding me back, however, was Grady. Always Grady. We still hadn’t talked … and I couldn’t see leaving without saying good-bye. But I just couldn’t seem to call him either. What had passed between us on that Ferris wheel had been intense, but I also worried, in a strange way, that it might mean the end for us. Especially seeing as he hadn’t called me either.
When I woke up the next morning, much to my delighted surprise, I found that my mother had bought coffee for me. Organic, free-trade coffee.
I peeked out the kitchen window while it was brewing. Frost had brushed the grass overnight, but it looked sunny enough. When it was ready, I poured myself a cup, threw on a jacket over my sling, and walked out onto the porch …
… only to find a man crouched there.
“Matthew?”
“Morning,” he replied, looking up from where he had knelt to scratch Caesar’s many chins. “Your mom’s cat is awesome.”
“Yeah,” I said. “He’s not that great.”
Matthew looked up at me again.
“He’s the favorite. We have issues.”
He chuckled, brushed the fur from his hands, and rose to his feet. “How’s your arm?”
“Getting better,” I said, taking a sip of coffee. Mmm, social justice coffee did taste better than regular. “Do you want some?”
“No. No,” he replied. “I just heard you might be leaving soon, and I wanted to come by.”
“Right,” I answered with a smile. A moment passed. “To say good-bye?”
“Yes,” he said, stepping closer, “but I also wanted to say thank you.”
“Really?”
“Well yeah, it probably sounds funny given everything that’s happened—the grave digging in particular comes to mind—but you have really helped me since I got home.”
“I have?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “I’m still trying to process all my feelings about my father’s death … but talking to you really helped.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, so I waited.
“I meant it when I said that all of Freddie’s and your antics … kind of left me feeling a little less crazy.” He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “That doesn’t sound right.”
“It sounds fine.” I would have reached out to touch his arm, but my one hand was holding the coffee and the other was in the sling. “Really.”
“I also wanted to let you know that I’ve let go of any hope for, well, you and me,” Matthew said, squinting and looking out to the trees—just the slightest hint of flirtatiousness
in his expression.
“Oh really?”
“Grady did save your life after all.” He shrugged. “I mean really, it’s not enough he looks like … who? Thor? He has to be a hero too?” Matthew sighed. “I can’t compete with that.” He flashed me a smile. “Not even with a castle … with a really big turret.” He froze. “That sounded less weird in my head.”
I smiled back at him. “Well, I appreciate you letting me know our status.” I sighed, looking out at the lake. “But I don’t know about Grady and me getting back together. You see, he has these serious issues with my breaking the law … and putting my life in danger. And I think maybe what happened on the Ferris wheel really drove those issues home.”
“By the look on your face, though, I can see that you’re not happy about it.”
“What can I say? Those first loves—”
“—are a killer,” Matthew finished. “You can be honest, though. You like the whole brooding-sheriff thing with all the complicated issues standing between you two being together. Although I could have him beat there, you know, with our issues,” he said, moving his hand back and forth between us.
“Our issues?”
“You did nearly get my mother killed.”
“About that. I am so sorry—”
“Could you imagine what Thanksgiving would be like?”
“Matthew!”
“My guess is awkward.” He held my gaze for a moment then laughed. “I’m kidding. I’m thankful that you helped expose my father’s killer. So is she. You nearly died saving her.” He looked me in the eye as though to show me his sincerity, but then looked away when the emotion got to be too much. “It’s funny. They let me watch the recording from the Ferris wheel … she still loves him. Despite the fact that he wanted to leave her to be with Tweety. She still loves him. Well, in her own way.”
I nodded.
“I don’t understand it,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “but then again, I’m not sure I want to.”
“Love can be complicated.”
“That it can.” He looked at me and gave me a sad smile. “Well, I guess on that note, I will take my leave.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, clutching my coffee, mainly because I was resisting the urge to put it down and give him a hug, which probably wasn’t—Oh, what the hell? I put my coffee on the porch floor and reached out with my good arm to pull him in for a hug. He slipped his arms around me and pulled me in lightly, so as not to hurt me. Goose bumps ran wild over my body. Probably just the cold.
“You know,” Matthew whispered in my ear. “You don’t have to give me some big good-bye.”
I pulled back—which meant my face was just inches from his. “I don’t?”
We stayed in the closeness just a moment longer before Matthew cleared his throat and stepped back. “Just say hello on your next visit.”
“What?”
“My mom’s moving down to Florida to live with her cousins. Too many memories here, I guess. So I’m moving into Hemlock Estate. Apparently it is still legally ours, seeing as my grandfather never actually changed his will.”
“You are?”
“It needs some work,” he said, stepping farther away from me and closer to the stairs. “And I’ve always loved the place.” He dropped down onto the step. “I can work from anywhere really.”
“Oh well,” I said, bending to retrieve my coffee, “in that case, I guess I’ll see you around.”
He held his hand up in the air while his eyes trailed over my face. “See you around, Erica.”
I watched Matthew walk the gravel path toward the steps that led down to lake, one hand in his pocket.
Wow. I just could not stop looking at that man’s pants.
* * *
“So there I was on this glorious astral plane of existence, and I could feel Kit Kat’s spirit calling me, so I floated in my ethereal form toward her energy, wrapping her in the love and vitality of all the guests who had devoted their time and energy to her healing, and—”
“She hasn’t stopped talking for twenty minutes straight,” Freddie muttered under his breath.
I nodded. “It’s like this every time.”
Freddie had decided to come over for dinner … which I was pretty grateful for. I couldn’t listen to my mother all by myself. I didn’t have enough ears. We had come out to sit on the porch after dinner to watch the sun go down. It was dropping pretty fast … probably to get a break from her too.
“Erica was there,” my mother went on. “Pacing. And—”
“On the astral plane?” Freddie asked.
“Of course.”
I closed my eyes. “No, I wasn’t.”
“Anyway, you were there,” my mother continued. “But your bangs were back from your face, allowing your true beauty to shine through, and I know that’s what saved Kit Kat’s life. It’s—”
“Wait, Erica’s beauty saved Kit Kat’s life?” Freddie asked, way too much shock in his voice.
“No,” my mother laughed, “the beauty of us all. It was a truly miraculous experience. More than I have ever experienced before. I think I need to write it down. I’ve never actually penned a book before, but many guests have asked me to. I believe I do need to share this experience with others, so that they can—”
“Dessert?” Freddie asked, desperation tinging his voice. “Is there dessert?”
“Of course,” my mother said, getting to her feet and moving to the door. “Let me see what I can rustle up. I know I have carob and rice flour. Perhaps some maple syrup, but I don’t want to disrupt our systems too much with the sugar. I also have…” Her voice faded into the depths of the retreat.
Freddie mouthed the words, Oh my God, without turning to look at me.
“I tried to warn you.”
We sat for a just moment in silence before I said, “So…” Freddie had been avoiding me too since the hospital. Well, at least avoiding being alone with me. Probably because he knew I was going to ask, “Feel like telling me a ghost story?”
He sighed and took a long sip from his bottle.
“Come on. You need to tell me what happened before my mother comes back and talks us into another astral plane.”
He tapped the mouth of his bottle against the armrest of his chair while biting his lip.
“You need to tell someone.”
He shook his head.
“Freddie, you know you can trust m—”
“Fine!” he shouted, sending some startled birds into the air. He then inhaled a breath, held it a moment, and let it go. “But so help me, if you make fun of this…”
“I won’t. I swear to God.” I put my swearing hand in the air … along with my beer.
“All right, so how much did you see from the Ferris wheel?”
“Well, I saw you chase the kids into the maze after Rex disappeared.”
“Yeah, turns out one of them—I’m thinking Bret Michaels, don’t even get me started on his parents naming him that—paid Rex twenty bucks to leave me in the booth. Which, I guess, means it’s true what they say…”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Carnie friends aren’t forever friends.”
“Nobody says that,” I said, watching the sun dip into the lake. “So what happened after that?”
“Well, you would have been proud of me,” Freddie said. “Even though I was surrounded by pumpkin people, I wasn’t freaked out. I knew it was the kids because really only teenage boys wear that much body spray.”
“Okay.”
“But after a minute or two in there … things started to get weird.”
“Weird how?” I asked, pulling up the blanket I had draped over my knees. The temperature was really dropping with the setting sun.
“They were all shouting and running. They were so fast. They’d zoom past an entrance … brush right by me!” Freddie flashed his beer hand in front of his face, spilling a few drops. “Then they were gone! I got disoriented, lost … it was all so confusing.”
A crow cawed just then, making me jump.
“Then this cold mist settled in … and everything got quiet. I felt like I had slipped into another realm … an alternate reality … filled with nightmares.”
I chuckled. “Freddie, I—”
“Zip it!” he hissed. “You’re going to miss the good part.” He took another breath then continued, “So suddenly I found myself in the middle of the maze, and everything went quiet. The boys had disappeared. I was all alone. Actually, no … it wasn’t completely quiet. There was a scream in the distance.”
“Yeah, that was probably me.”
“But I was all alone—” He paused, letting his eyes drift with the memory before shooting them back to me. “—and then I wasn’t!”
“What are you talking about?”
Freddie held up a hand, wiggling his fingers. “I felt something … someone at my back.”
“Come on,” I said, ignoring the chills suddenly running up my arms.
“I’m serious, Erica,” Freddie said. “Part of me knew I had to turn around. I had to face it, but I was frozen—paralyzed with fear! Do you know what that feels like, Erica?”
“Yeah, Freddie, I kind of do. Remember the Ferris wheel—”
“Shush! My story,” he said with a point. “So I waited … hoping the feeling would disappear … but it didn’t. I knew the presence was still there. I could feel its breath on my neck.”
“What! Freddie…”
“But it was cold breath … the breath of the dead.”
I leaned a little away from him. “So what happened?”
“Well, I don’t know how long I stood there. I couldn’t move … yet somehow I also knew that if I didn’t move, do something, I was going to die.”
“So what did you do?”
“Nothing,” Freddie said, turning his body completely around to look at me, “until it touched me.”
I felt my eyes go wide.
“Fingers Erica … icy-cold fingers crept over my shoulder and—”
“And what?”
“I spun around, and—POW!” Freddie said, punching his own palm.
“You did what? Freddie!” I yelled, scooting up in my seat. “It was probably just a kid!”
Pumpkin Picking with Murder Page 27