Monday dragged, and Stanley did not call me all day. When I spoke to Charlie at lunchtime, she said that Fred hadn’t called her either. I was not in a good mood, so I might have been a little hard on my brother when he asked me if I wanted a big lunch.
“Is there a problem with the amount of food I eat?” I said.
“No,” he answered. I could tell by the little wrinkle on his forehead that he was confused by my question, which irritated me even more.
“Why would you ask me if I wanted a big lunch? Clearly you’re trying to tell me something.”
“No, I was wondering if you wanted to take extra time during your lunch break. I thought … ”
“You thought it was time to tell me I need to go on a diet? Well, let me explain to you that the average, healthy American woman is a size fourteen, not a zero. Since I’m a little below that number, I think I am at a perfectly acceptable weight.”
“ … that since you’re doing all this extra work with the Ethel thing, you might need some time for yourself,” he finished.
After that, we avoided each other for the rest of the day. I admit I may have been a little harsh on him, but in my defense I was feeling a large amount of pressure. I had not found anything in my investigation, I had no idea what to do now that Oliver had warned me away, and Stanley was mad at me, too.
But I was going to be at Ethel’s house tonight. Inside, with access to the whole house.
Would anyone think it was strange if I went into her room or her office and took a quick look around? Yes, I’m sure they would, so I’d have to be careful not to let anyone see me. This could be my chance to find something important, something that would give me insight into what Ethel had been involved in before her death.
As I thought about the murder I became more convinced that Ethel had to have been killed because somebody wanted her to stop doing something. She must have been either preventing something from happening or telling someone she would prevent something from happening.
In other words, she was probably doing what she’d always done, only this time it got her killed.
By the time my brother and I arrived at Ethel’s house, I had a plan. If I let my brother think I was seriously involved in this ghost hunt thing, I stood a better chance of snooping. I’d been preparing him since we got in the car, saying things like, “I hope we’ll at least be able to feel Ethel’s energy tonight,” or my personal favorite because it was so brilliant, “Hopefully, we can help her spirit be at peace, allowing her to evolve into the next level of her creation.” Words to live by, right? I figured my brother would just set me loose in the house as soon as we got there.
As Giuseppe finally maneuvered the car onto Ethel’s street, he swore. “How the freak am I supposed to park? Why are all these cars here?”
I shrugged. “I dunno, maybe someone decided to have a party because they’re attracted to all the positive energy we’re bringing in tonight.”
“Cut it out, okay?” he said. “I know you’re up to something, but I don’t know what it is. Just try to behave tonight.”
Looking down the street, I pointed. “I think there’s a spot over there in front of that house.”
Finally he parked, and we started trudging back toward Ethel’s house. I could see Carla walking toward us and dozens of people milling about in the yard.
“What the heck is going on?” I said. “This is way more people than we’ve ever had at one of these things.”
“Maybe she double booked,” Giuseppe said. “Carla probably forgot we were coming and scheduled a Pampered Chef party for tonight, too.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’d do if I was busy planning a funeral,” I said.
Carla was walking toward us with a worried look on her face. We met her on the front lawn of Ethel’s house.
“I’m sorry, you guys,” she said, pulling at her sweater. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea. I think we should cancel.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Carla, dear,” my brother said, hugging the woman. I hated to admit it, but she really didn’t look well. Her skin was a pasty gray color, and she kept alternating between twisting her hands around her sweater and wrapping her arms around her body. Both gestures looked compulsive. “Everything will be fine,” my brother continued. “When did all these people arrive?”
“They’ve been showing up all day,” she said. “I mean, people have been showing up, and some animals, I think, and there was food. Lots of food, which is good because otherwise I wouldn’t have eaten, but, gosh, isn’t it hot out here? I’m kind of hot …” Her voice trailed off as she looked out at the street, a vacant stare in her eyes. “What?”
“Carla, are you all right?” I asked. From where I was standing, the answer was an emphatic no, but she nodded like a bobble-head doll.
“Everything’s great,” she said, “but there are just so many people. Maybe we shouldn’t do this, maybe it’s a sign.”
“Of course it’s a sign,” my brother said. “It’s a sign that we’re on the right track, and we have the support of the community.”
Of course he thought we were on the right track. I loved my brother, but I viewed this whole ghost-business thing as a crutch for him. He never could stand the thought of people he loved dying, like our cousin Victor. Giuseppe and Victor had been close, more like best friends, and after Victor died I noticed Giuseppe took an even bigger interest in anything to do with ghosts, hauntings and psychic phenomena. I understand completely, since there is nothing I would like better than to be able to sit around and chat with those who have crossed to the other side, but I feel more practical about the whole thing. I think believing in the existence of ghosts is a crutch that lots of people use to help them through their grief. Yet, here I was, helping my brother. The things I’ll do for my family, I thought, shaking my head.
I shot a look at my brother and said to Carla, “Can you excuse us for a moment? I need to ask my brother a question about the equipment.” Grabbing Giuseppe’s arm I pulled him closer to the curb. “Can’t you see that she’s sick?” I hissed. “We shouldn’t make her do this in her condition.” Besides, there were way too many people here, which meant I had less of a chance to snoop without being discovered, not that I was going to say that out loud.
“If she’s not feeling well this will take her mind off things,” he said. “Anyway, it’s now or never. Since I’m in charge, I say we go ahead and do this. We’ll be in and out of here in no time.”
Walking away from me, Giuseppe went to Carla and put his arm around her, leading her up the sidewalk toward the house. I followed, muttering the entire time about ungrateful brothers who didn’t realize the consequences of their actions.
A large number of people were milling about on the front lawn as if this were some kind of neighborhood cookout. Some had drinks in their hands, others were munching on snacks. “Who brought the food?” I asked.
“Some of my friends dropped off a few casseroles, and one of the local vendors came by with a whole crate of organic breads. It was really very kind of her,” Carla said.
I tried not to shudder, but it happened anyway. Organic breads probably meant Debbee, which meant I wouldn’t be eating anything at this house tonight. I’d been to her house, and I knew the condition it was in, but I couldn’t say anything to Carla. Besides, I wasn’t so sure she should be up and walking around right now, much less worrying about what her guests were eating.
I watched as a woman I didn’t recognize pushed her way past the others to stand in front of us. “Why are we here?”
My brother turned his full smile on her. I knew he did it more to disarm than anything else, and sure enough, it worked. I watched her melt at his attention and return the smile. She then batted her eyelashes at him. Who does that? I thought.
“I mean, why are we at this house instead of the haunted house?” she asked.
Uh-oh, I do not like the way she is looking at my brother.
“Who are you?” I
said.
Without taking his eyes off her, Giuseppe said, “This is Sara, our newest member of the group. Sara, this is my sister.”
I offered my hand for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, welcome to the group. Have you met Janine yet?” I said. Mentioning Giuseppe’s wife was definitely in order.
“She’s the reason I’m here,” Sara said. “Janine told me that with my kind of high-level gift I’d be a great match for the group. So, G, why aren’t we at the house where the murder took place?”
She called him G? I couldn’t wait for him to yell at her, as I knew how much he hated that, and frankly, I didn’t like this woman and the way she looked at my brother one bit.
“The house where Ethel was murdered is still a crime scene,” Giuseppe said. “Shall we get started?”
Wait, what? No yelling, no telling her not to call him that, no anything?
“Wait for me, G,” I said.
“Don’t call me that,” he said.
“How come she can, but I can’t?” I asked. “I’m only your sister, who happens to be good friends with your wife. What about that?”
“Who can do what?” he said.
I shook my head. Men are really dense sometimes, and my brother is no exception. “How come Sara can call you G, and you don’t get all upset?”
“Oh, her … she was one of Janine’s roommates from a long time ago. They’re like sisters.”
Mmmhmmm.
“We’ve got everything all set up already,” he said, not really bothering to answer my question. That was fine with me. I’d find out everything I needed to know about our newest member anyway, especially if she was someone Janine knew.
Something wasn’t right in the house, but it took me a moment to figure out what it was. “Giuseppe, where’s all our equipment?” I asked. “You’ve only got the cameras set up in one spot, and there are no EMFs, no sensors — is the rest of the equipment still in the car?”
“We don’t need anything beyond the cameras set up in the dining room area,” he said, avoiding my eyes.
“Why not?”
“Because all we’ll really be doing tonight is focusing on the séance portion.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Fine. The fact that my brother had this planned all along was no big surprise, and neither was the fact that he hadn’t been honest with me from the beginning. He knew I knew from the second he’d told me his plan for tonight, so I’d just as well get over it. I can handle this. I’m a big girl. I’m not afraid.
“What are you going to do if a ghost really appears?” that niggling little voice whispered in my head.
I’m going to go home, that’s what, where I’ll be safe with my dog and my aunts and everything comfortable and familiar.
But I had bigger concerns. Lots of people were roaming around, and from the looks of things Giuseppe wanted to get this party started. That meant I had only a little bit of time to snoop around. I had to hurry.
I high-tailed it up the stairs. I’d never been in Ethel’s bedroom, but I was confident I’d know it when I saw it. If I was lucky, she’d kept her office up here, too. I hoped I’d find all sorts of information about what she was doing before she died.
Giuseppe said he’d set up a camera in her room, so I’d have to be on the lookout for it. The last thing I wanted was the ghost-busting team watching me paw through Ethel’s stuff.
I tried to be as stealthy as possible and not draw attention to myself. I looked down the hallway. All the doors were closed.
The first few rooms I looked into were so sparsely furnished that I assumed they were guest rooms. Finally I noticed the last door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar.
Of course it would be the last one.
Giuseppe must have left it open when he went in to set up his camera. I pushed the door, and it swung in silently. The sounds of voices downstairs drifted up, and I was reminded that I did not have the luxury of time. Hearing snippets of conversations, I hesitated, listening.
“The mist is incredible …”
“I swear the dead are all around this place. We must be over a burial ground.”
“Is that a dragon?”
I shook my head, wondering how my brother managed to attract these people and if the dancers I’d seen on the green the other day were here, too.
Slipping through the doorway, I entered Ethel’s room. I knew it was her room because Giuseppe had set up the camera in here. I also knew he wouldn’t mind that I was in here, but there was no need for the weirdoes downstairs to watch me. That would be creepy.
I grabbed the folded blanket off the foot of the bed and threw it over the camera. Perfect, now nobody knew what was going on in here.
I wanted to be methodical and decided to start with the night stand next to the bed. The dresser probably held mostly clothes, and that wouldn’t help me at all.
I had to yank pretty hard to get the drawer open because there were so many papers jammed in there.
Bingo! Her drawer was a direct contradiction to the neat and ordered home downstairs, so I figured there had to be some kind of evidence shoved in here. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I’d know it when I saw it.
I sorted through the papers, which consisted mostly of unopened envelopes. From the looks of things, they were all bills. Unpaid bills?
With so many of us doing our banking and bill-paying online, I knew this bunch of bills told me exactly nothing. It was possible that Ethel did everything on her computer, meaning she didn’t need the paper copies. But why would she save them?
Maybe they were unpaid, and maybe that had something to do with her murder. I looked more carefully at the return addresses, wondering if debt could lead to murder. Usually it just led to a collection agency.
I didn’t see anything unusual, just the typical electric, water and gas bills. I was hoping for a cell phone or credit card bill which would have given me information on Ethel’s private life.
Clearly I knew how to snoop.
I also saw lots of bills from a medical lab, and after a moment’s hesitation, I tore one open. I needed some kind of information, and this was all I could find.
The first bill contained charges for a routine pap smear. The next bill had charges for an influenza test. The third bill was charges for strep throat.
All I could figure out from this was that Ethel didn’t have very good health insurance.
I was starting to wonder if I should go through the other drawers, too, when I heard a sound behind me. Turning, I saw Linwood. Something about him didn’t look quite right, and I stood, not sure why alarm bells were going off in my head.
“Linwood, I didn’t hear you come in,” I said.
“She’s not here, you know.” He wasn’t looking at me, but had crossed to the dresser and picked up a framed picture of Ethel and her niece that was sitting on top. He was a little too close for comfort, and now my only means of escape was to scramble across the bed to get out the door.
“She’s not here,” he repeated.
“I know, Linwood, but Giuseppe insists on going through with trying to contact her spirit. He thinks we might get some sort of answer.”
Linwood’s stare was vacant as his hands took the frame apart, removing the backing and taking the picture and glass from the frame.
I was regretting having thrown the blanket over the camera, since it meant that nobody knew what was going on in here. Right now, my idea of privacy was not such a good one, especially with what I was thinking. Linwood’s hands shook, and his face was slack. Maybe he’s having a stroke or something. Maybe it’s all in his head, and he didn’t really do it, and I’m not really trapped with a killer.
Killer? Did I really think this sweet man was capable of that? “Linwood, are you okay? What are you doing up here?”
There’s no way he could have hurt Ethel. He barely knew her, so it wouldn’t make sense. Besides, he was nice. Nice people don’t go around killing their neighbors.
�
��I killed her, you know. She needed killing.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
So much for my nice people theory. I didn’t know what to do. Was this a true confession? Could it be that easy? If Linwood had really killed Ethel, that meant I was stuck in her bedroom with a killer.
“I saw you find her, but you couldn’t see me. I watched you.”
Chills ran up and down my body as I remembered the noise I’d heard in the basement that night. The killer had been down there with me, just as I’d thought. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. Linwood wasn’t even looking at me. I scrolled to my recently received calls, and pushed the button to connect me with Oliver.
I put the phone to my ear slowly, but Linwood wasn’t paying attention. Instead, he was picking at the bedspread with one hand as if there were lint or something on it. I looked him over, wondering if he could overpower me, and decided yes, he could. After all, he’d taken the picture frame apart and now stood there with a piece of glass in one hand, glass that could cut me. I gripped the phone, hands trembling, and willed Oliver to answer.
“Detective Rialto,” the voice came over the line. I’d never been so happy to hear someone.
“Hi, Linwood said that Ethel isn’t here,” I said in a rush. I didn’t know how much time I had, or whether or not I could make it over the bed and escape. “He’s in Ethel’s bedroom with me, and he told me she’s not here.”
Something in my voice must have alerted him to the fact that all was not well. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I said.
“Are you at Ethel’s house?”
“Yes.”
“Are you safe?”
“No.”
“I’m on my way.”
I started to edge my way around the bed, then stopped. How was I going to get by Linwood? Would he just let me waltz out of the room?
Madness in Brewster Square Page 18