by Lynn Bohart
The weather had deteriorated badly. It was cold and had been raining steadily since before dawn. We’d had so much rain over the past few days in fact, that there were reports of flooding in areas south of Seattle.
I met Jason on the porch and ushered him and his wife inside while their staff began to unload the cars.
“Welcome,” I said, giving them a broad smile. “It’s good to see you again.”
“It’s nice to see you again, too,” Jason replied. “Especially when so many roads are closed. I wasn’t sure we’d make it. By the way, this is my wife, Willow.”
I smiled as I shut the door. “So nice to meet you, Willow. You guys can warm up in here,” I said, drawing them further into the entryway and rubbing my hands together to warm them up. “We have two empty rooms for you and about fifteen to twenty people for the event tonight.” I moved behind the reception desk and turned the book around for them to sign. I grabbed a key and slid it across the desk. “You’ll be right at the top of the stairs in #4. Frankie and Shorty will be around the corner in #3.”
“Perfect,” Jason said.
“The inn is lovely,” his wife said, glancing around. “I’m so glad I was able to come with Jason this time. I love the vignette at the front door. Was that for our benefit?”
I grinned. “Yes. I’m not sure everyone will appreciate the electric chair, but it’s all in fun.”
“I think the whole thing is priceless,” she said with a smile. “I touched the chair and felt an immediate buzz of energy.”
“Was that the electricity or a ghost?” I asked.
Her ruby lips parted into a smile. “Hard to tell.”
“Well, all the antiques are for sale,” I said brightly. “It’s part of the business.”
The door opened behind me, and the two tech guys came in with a horizontal dolly, carrying computers and monitors.
“Hey, wait,” Jason said to them. “Let’s get some tarps down first so you don’t get mud all over the place.”
He left to help his guys, while I led Willow into the living room, which was decorated in an early Americana theme. Deep cranberry red drapes offset a sofa upholstered in red and white chintz. A giant picnic basket sat next to the sofa with a blue throw draped out from under one flap. An old framed American flag hung above the fireplace under glass, while a giant, iron star hung in between the bookcases. I’d also had Jose´move some of the larger furniture out and other furniture back against the walls to maximize space.
“I made a space for you under the window over there,” I said, pointing to the opposite end of the room.
Willow nodded. “That should work perfectly.” She stopped and glanced around. “What a beautiful room. I feel the energy, you know. The spirits. You weren’t kidding. There’s lots of activity here.”
“Well…” I said. “I’ll let you get settled, while I get back to work. Let me know if you need anything.”
÷
For the next couple of hours, Jason and his team dragged electrical cords across hallways and then covered them with cord covers. They set up cameras in the breakfast room, the main hallway and the living room, and then focused one right on the reception desk and staircase since Elizabeth had been seen so many times descending the stairs.
They put a table near the fireplace with computers and three monitors. On a side table, Jason laid out a number of other devices used in ghost hunting: a special infrared camera, an EVP recorder, an EMF meter, and a thermal camera. I had no idea what any of them would be used for, but figured I’d learn during the event.
At 5:00 p.m., I emerged from my apartment dressed in black wool pants, a rust-colored turtleneck and a charcoal gray boiled wool jacket. We set out the food in the breakfast room. Although it wasn’t Halloween, April couldn’t avoid the urge to have a little fun. She’d created deviled eggs that looked like disembodied eyeballs, a two-layered white cake embellished with a black spider web and several creepy spiders, and sugar cookies in the shape of ghosts.
April and I were working in the kitchen alone, filling up trays ready to replenish those on the tables. Even though I knew April would hang out most of the time in the kitchen, she’d spruced up in a pair of crisp black jeans and a multi-colored linen jacket.
“So how do you feel about having a medium here tonight?” I asked her.
We hadn’t really talked much about the event, other than how it would bring the Inn some good publicity, especially if Jason got some pictures to include in his next book. April glanced up from where she was arranging small quiches to go into the oven.
“You mean, am I jealous?”
“No, I know you too well for that. I was just wondering if you’re skeptical or not.”
She shrugged. “I suppose I’m skeptical of anyone making a profit off something like this. Makes it seem less genuine.”
“Are you going to sit in on it?”
“I doubt it. I’ll be busy with the food.”
I gave her a conspiratorial smile. “Yes, but wouldn’t it be fun to have dueling psychics? You could be her truth-o-meter.”
April glanced at me sideways. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
The kitchen door swung open, and Blair breezed in, dressed in black wool pants, black patent leather boots with three-inch heels, a black cashmere turtleneck sweater and a red wool cape with a high collar.
“Show me your teeth,” I said when she hung up her coat.
“Why?”
“I want to see if you have fangs.”
Blair’s hair was pulled up into a soft up do, and she wore dangling bat earrings. She gave me a brief smile. “Very funny. I thought it would be fun to dress for the occasion.”
“We’re ghost hunting, not vampire hunting,” I said, stirring a dip.
“Speaking of vampires, where’s Dana?” she asked, sticking a delicate finger into the dip.
“Shhh, she might hear you,” I said, slapping her hand away. “She was in the breakfast room last time I saw her.”
“With the food?” Blair asked. “I didn’t see her. I must have mistaken her for the stuffed pig.”
I gave Blair an admonishing look. “That’s not nice.”
“Seriously?” she spat. “You’re defending her now? Don’t tell me you’re best buds all of a sudden.”
“No, but she’s going through a lot.”
“Well, how are you?” she asked. “Did you get your car back?”
“Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.”
The door opened behind us and Rudy and Doe came in. Rudy took one startled look at Blair and said, “I didn’t know we were having a costume contest or I would have worn a sheet.”
Blair lifted one shoulder. “You’re just jealous.”
“Well, if we find a dead body with a couple of little holes in its neck, we’re going to come looking for you,” Rudy teased her. She turned and hung her coat on the wall rack.
“Hey, depending on whose body it is, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Blair said. “For instance, is Detective Abrams coming?” she asked, turning to me.
“And by coming, you just mean to the party?” Rudy asked with a deadpan face.
Blair broke into a grin. “I like your style, Mama Bear.”
“Mama Bear? What’s that supposed to mean?” Rudy asked as she circled around the table.
“If Julia can have nicknames for us, then so can I,” Blair said with a lift to her chin.
“Really?” Doe said, grabbing a celery stick. “Who am I?”
“I think of you as ‘Miss Spit and Polish,’” Blair said proudly.
Doe’s eyebrows arched. “Really? I hate spit.”
“Yes, but you’re always so pulled together. I mean, look at you in those crepe pants and silk blouse. And Julia, you’re ‘Miss Rough and Tumble.’”
“Me? You’re the one who barged in on Al Dente the other day,” I said in amazement. “You went after him like a commando.”
She smiled contentedly. “Yes, that’s true. But you do whatever it takes to get
things done. And, April,” she said, pulling April’s attention away from the counter. “You’re my ‘Glow in the Dark.’”
April looked puzzled. “I’m not sure what that means, or even if it’s a good thing.”
“Oh, it’s very good,” Blair said with a toss of her head. “Not only do you have the second sight, as people like to say, but you glow with confidence. You’re kind of my role model in that department.”
April smiled. “Thanks. I think.”
“You still didn’t tell me what ‘Mama Bear’ means,” Rudy said, drawing her thin lips into a frown.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Blair said to her.
“Listen,” I said, hoping to deflect the argument I saw coming. “I have news. The detectives were here this morning. Al Dente was murdered yesterday.”
Everyone wheeled around in my direction. “Well, that’s a bombshell,” Rudy said. “You didn’t think a phone call was in order?”
“Sorry, we’ve been too busy today, and we just heard about it this morning. It happened sometime after we were shot at yesterday. But not only that, they’ve ID’d Dana’s ex-husband. He’s staying in town.”
“Wow,” Blair exclaimed. “So he could be the culprit. Does Dana know?”
“Yes,” I said, giving Blair a sobering look. “And she’s been even more nervous all day because of it. Besides that, Clay is up in Bellingham and not due back until tomorrow, so I’d watch your step around her.”
“Do the police think the ex-husband is behind all of this?” Doe asked.
“They said they’re keeping their options open. I take that to mean that even Tony isn’t off their radar yet.”
“Speaking of,” Rudy said. “Is he coming tonight?”
“No. He called and begged off. He was afraid he’d be too much of a distraction.”
“Makes sense,” Rudy said, reaching for a black olive. “I’m just sorry to see his entire life rearranged because of this.”
“Me too. The sooner the killer is caught, the better,” I responded.
The kitchen door swung open and Jason walked in. “We’re all set up,” he announced.
I took a moment to introduce the ladies. A moment later, Willow came in to join us.
“I’ve heard all about you,” Jason said appreciatively, extending his enormous hand to Blair. “Especially you, Mrs. Wentworth,” he said, lingering on Blair. “I understand you’re quite the race car driver.”
Blair expected compliments, and so her reactions were usually manufactured. In response to Jason’s remark, she dipped her chin, tilted her head to the side and said, “Fast cars and fast men. That’s my style, Mr. Spears.”
He laughed heartily. “Well, hopefully, tonight it will be fast ghosts.”
“Do you really expect the ghosts to appear?” she asked almost shyly.
“I certainly hope so. In any case, we’re ready for them if they do. This is my wife, Willow,” he said, drawing her forward. “If they’re here, she’ll know it.”
“Did you know that April also has the…” Blair began.
“Let’s get out there to meet our guests,” I said, interrupting her. I shot April a glance, and she mouthed ‘thank you’ as I ushered everyone out.
We caught Dana at the food table, stuffing one of the eyeballs into her mouth. Blair cringed and said, “Ick, how can you eat that?”
Dana frowned at her. “It’s just a deviled egg. They’re really good.”
Blair stared down at the plate of halved eggs that were filled with a green egg mixture, topped with a sliced black olive and finished off with red squiggly lines across the egg white to resemble bloodshot eyes.
Blair made a sour face. “I couldn’t eat something that was looking back at me.” She reached for a carrot stick instead.
Jason and Willow had gone back into the living room, so Rudy sidled up to me. “So, the guy who stole Ahab is dead? And the police think Dana’s ex-dead-husband hired him?”
“It’s a working theory,” I confirmed.
“I think that would be dead ex-husband,” Blair corrected Rudy from across the table.
Rudy shot her an irritated look. “Well, apparently he’s not so dead anymore.”
Dana looked up with a bleak expression, a greasy chicken wing in her hand and barbeque sauce lathered on her lower lip. “I should’ve known that one day he’d come back.”
“Dana, the problem is that there are too many reasons why someone would want you dead,” Rudy said.
“Yeah, who could keep track?” Blair murmured under her breath.
Dana had lost all of her bluster by this time and merely bowed her head in defeat.
“Is that why you kept the pictures, Dana?” I asked. “Because you thought he’d come back someday?”
“Yes. It was my insurance, just in case. He was a mean son-of-a-bitch. Whether you believe me or not, what I did in Vancouver, I did out of fear.”
“Unfortunately, I have a feeling this still goes back to those boys, Dana,” I said. “Have you ever seen any of them since then?”
“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “Once the rumors began, the boys were taken from us and given to other fosters. I never saw any of them again. They were so young, I’m not sure I’d recognize any of them now, anyway.”
Her cell phone rang, and she switched the chicken wing into the other hand to answer it. “Yeah, hi, Clay,” she said. “No, I’m fine. What?”
She turned away from us to take the call just as the front door opened and several members of the library board came in.
“I have to go greet people,” I said to the girls.
I turned and moved into the entryway to grab people’s coats and take them into the library. When I came back, I introduced Jason and Willow. Angela came down the hall from the apartment, dressed in black slacks and a sequined jean jacket. Just as I was about to introduce her to the president of the library board, the door opened again and Roger Romero stepped through, followed by one of the bookstore owners.
“Julia,” Roger boomed. “I heard about your upstairs window last night. I warned you. We need to talk…”
“I want to kill Dana Finkle.” Squawk!
I whirled around to see Ahab was bouncing back and forth on his perch. Then I turned back to Roger,who seemed rooted in place, his facial features frozen. We stared at each other for a horrified moment.
Count to three.
Roger spun around to flee, but the front door slammed shut in his face. He grabbed the knob and twisted, but it wouldn’t budge. Panicked, he turned for the hallway, but Angela jumped in front of him, lifted her left leg and gave him a sharp kick to the solar plexus. He expelled a breath and flew backwards, landing in the electric chair with a thud.
“Damn, Angela!” Blair said with appreciation.
We formed a half circle around Roger, blocking his escape. Hearing the commotion, the rest of the guests flooded into the entryway behind us. Meanwhile, Roger sat plastered against the back of the electric chair, gasping for air, his bony features engraved with fear.
“Roger!” I cried. “How could you?”
He made a feeble attempt to rise, but Angela jumped forward in an attack pose, making him flinch back into the chair.
“Down, dear,” I said to my daughter. “I don’t think he’s going anywhere. Why don’t you call Detective Abrams?” Then I turned back to Roger. “Well?” I demanded.
“I…I’m not what you think, Julia. I didn’t kill anyone. Honest.”
“Then why did Ahab just repeat that line?” Blair asked, stepping forward with her hands on her hips.
“It’s true. I did say that in front of him,” he replied nervously.
“When?” Blair demanded.
He glanced sheepishly around at the other library board members, who were all staring at him with unabashed alarm.
“It was back when we had the library board meeting here in December. I took a phone call. A call from someone who was…who was blackmailing me.”
“Al De
nte,” Angela said, putting her phone back into her pocket. “They’re on their way, Mom,” she said to me.
“Yes,” Roger agreed. “Dente approached me about five months ago to see if I would help him…dispose of Dana.”
“Why?” Dana screeched, stepping forward. “I don’t even know him.”
Roger looked up at her. “He said he was one of…one of your boys.”
There were a few intakes of breath. Roger looked suddenly old and haggard, as if years of hiding some terrible secret had finally released him from its destructive grasp.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?” he said quietly to Dana. She studied his face a moment, and then haltingly shook her head. “My real name is Robert Goode. My brother was Marty.”
Dana’s stubby little hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God,” she muttered.
She looked faint, and I pushed her toward the steamer chest and eased her down onto it. She sat there speechless.
“So you were one of her boys, too?” I said to Roger.
He nodded. “My brother and I lived there for almost a year. Marty was my older brother, by five years. He was one of her husband’s…favorites. In the end, Marty couldn’t take it anymore. He hung himself.”
More gasps.
“Good job, Dana,” Rudy said to her. “You’re two for two. Old Mr. Peabody and now Roger’s brother.”
Dana glanced up at Rudy, but didn’t say anything.
Roger wiped perspiration from his forehead and continued. “Anyway, Dente knew I’d lived there, too. I don’t know how he knew, but he did. He said he wanted revenge and thought I’d willingly go along with his plan. But when I said no, he threatened to tell everyone about my background and what her husband had done to me. But I still said no. You have to believe me.”
“Ahab doesn’t agree,” Blair said.
“That was actually the conversation when I said no to him. I told him that, yes, I wanted to kill Dana Finkle. But then I immediately said I couldn’t do it.”