Deader Still: A Bridget Sway Novel (A Paranormal Ghost Cozy Mystery Series)

by Jordaina Sydney Robinson

  “That is exactly what we’re going to do, dear,” Edith said as she tilted her head to one side to stretch her neck out and then rolled her shoulders back.

  “What’s she doing?” Sabrina asked me as we watched Edith close her eyes and stand perfectly still.

  “Weren’t you listening when she just explained?”

  Sabrina frowned at me. “She didn’t just explain.”

  I gave Sabrina a pointed look. “Exactly. So how would I know?”

  “I thought that—” Sabrina cut off when I grabbed her arm and pointed to Edith’s face. Which was rapidly becoming Rebecca’s face.

  Edith opened her eyes and smiled at us. Both Sabrina and I peered into Edith’s Rebecca face. It was disturbingly uncanny.

  “Are you a bit freaked out by how easy that seemed?” Sabrina asked me, still examining Edith’s Rebecca mask.

  “Uh-huh.” I stepped back and looked Edith over. Her whole physique had changed. I briefly glanced Sabrina’s way. “It makes me think we need a code phrase so I know I’m always talking to you.”

  “That’s not necessary, dear.” Edith’s voice came from Rebecca’s face. “You can’t change your voice.”

  Sabrina jerked back. “That is very disconcerting. You really look like her. I’m not sure that suit is really Rebecca, though.” Sabrina gestured to Edith’s usual grey suit.

  I rolled my eyes at Sabrina. “Because you know her oh-so-well.”

  “I was just saying, if you’re going to do it, why not go the whole hog?”

  “Because it’s tiring,” Edith said as her grey suit faded into a brightly patterned summer dress. “Better?”

  Sabrina pressed her lips together and looked Edith over. “Well, her husband has just died so I’m not sure the whole summer floral thing is appropriate.”

  “Shall we?” Edith asked, ignoring Sabrina.

  “Wait.” I peered into Edith’s Rebecca face. “I’m not sure you’ve got the face right.”

  Rebecca’s face morphed into an expression that was distinctly Edith’s. “Do you think you can do better?”

  “No, it just makes me a little uncomfortable to look at. Don’t you feel it?” I asked Sabrina making a swirly gesture at Edith’s morphed face.

  Sabrina narrowed her eyes and stared. “Yeah. You’ve got the features right but they somehow don’t mesh together properly.”

  “Well, how about when we finish here you two spend some time practising this and see how easy you find it?”

  “I’m stalling at the beginners stuff.” Sabrina said with a pout. “I can’t even stick my hand through a wall yet. So, disappointingly, I think that’ll be a little above me,”

  “That’s not a reason to not try, dear.”

  Sabrina shook her head. “Oh, I wasn’t saying I wasn’t going to try.”

  Edith patted her hand. “Good girl.”

  “Thanks, Mum.”

  Appearing mollified, Edith pushed open the door and we followed her inside. Three desks sat on either side of the room; the men had taken the left, the ladies the right. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or if it had randomly worked out that way but it gave quite a strong sense of gender division in the office.

  “How are we going to do this?” I asked, glancing around. Posters of idyllic destinations like the Caribbean or the Alps covered the walls. Something for everyone.

  “Watch and learn, dear,” Edith mumbled out of the corner of her mouth.

  “Hi there.” The man at the front desk noticed Edith a second sooner than his female counterpart and was on his feet in front of us before she could stand. “How can I help you today?”

  “My husband came here to book a cruise. His name is Derek Walsh. Do you happen to know who was dealing with it?”

  A young girl at the last desk on the left jumped to her feet. “Me! I was! It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs Walsh.” The girl scurried forward with her hand extended while she was still a good distance away. When she finally reached Edith the girl looked into Edith’s face and her smile froze. She didn’t recoil exactly but there was an uncomfortable, almost reluctant feel to her posture. The girl awkwardly morphed her extended hand into a gesture for Edith to take a seat at her desk. Just as well, really because if she’d tried for a hand shake that would’ve ended poorly. And probably in screaming.

  “That’s weird.” Sabrina pointed to the girl’s expression. “It’s like she knows something’s not quite right.”

  The young girl guided Edith to her desk at the back of the office and offered Edith a seat.

  “How can I help you, Mrs Walsh?”

  “I know Derek was planning a surprise cruise for us to celebrate our wedding anniversary, but he’s dead.”

  I didn’t know who was more surprised at Edith’s lack of tact, us or the girl. The girl jerked back in her chair. It took her a few seconds to recover. She leaned forward and reached to place her hand over Edith’s. I winced. I wasn’t great at all the touchy-feely emotional stuff but Edith just didn’t have that in her. Also, the girl's hand would've gone through Edith's and I doubted that would've prompted a calm divulgence of information from the girl.

  “Thank you.” Edith removed her hands from the table before the girl could touch them and folded them back in her lap. “So, about this cruise?”

  “Er … right. Yes.” The girl began tapping on her keyboard. “Did you still want to go?”

  “Initially, I did think it might be nice. Maybe scatter his ashes out in the ocean somewhere …”

  The girl jumped on that. “That’s a lovely idea. I only spoke to him the once but I think he’d have really liked that.”

  I snorted. “Or you’d really like that since it means you won’t have to give her a refund.”

  Sabrina shook her head. “I don’t think you get refunds on holidays. It depends how much in advance you cancel. It’s not like returning a top because you get it home and realise you have nothing to go with it.”

  I stepped back and eyed Sabrina. “Why would you buy a top without knowing what it would go with?”

  Sabrina opened her mouth to explain but Edith coughed pointedly.

  “Actually, I’d like to cancel. I feel that I would benefit more from spending time around my family.”

  The girl frowned. “Oh. Are you sure? I’ve heard that it’s not a good idea to make big decisions at traumatic times.”

  “I think so, dear,” Edith said with a nod.

  “Okay, well I’m sorry to hear that.” The girl reached into her top desk drawer, pulled out a business card and handed it to Edith. “If you change your mind, please come back and see me. I’d love to sort out a sunny break for you.”

  Edith took the card. “Thank you, dear. Now, how do we go about processing the refund?”

  The girl blinked. “Refund?”

  “Yes. I understand that you’ll likely keep the deposit but I assume I’m cancelling in enough time to have the balance refunded?”

  The girl shook her head slowly. “Your husband didn’t pay anything.”

  It was Edith’s turn to blink. “I’m sorry?”

  “He came in asking about cruises, costs and dates, a couple of weeks ago. He was due back in at the start of this week but he never came.”

  Edith pinned the girl with a stare. “What aren’t you telling me, child?”

  The girl grimaced and twisted her fingers together. “He said that he couldn’t put a deposit down because his money was tied up in a bet.”

  “A bet?”

  “Look, I don’t want to—”

  “What bet?”

  “He said it was a sure thing and he made an appointment to come back in at the start of this week. When he didn’t come back I just assumed he’d lost the money.” The girl grimaced and twisted her fingers some more. “I’m really sorry.”

  Edith shot her head. “It’s not your fault, child. Is there any chance you remember what he said he was betting on?”

  “It was a horse called Flash in the Pan. He said that i
t was a sign because everybody had said your romance would just be a flash in the pan.” The girl gave another apologetic wince as she said it.

  “And?” I asked. I knew she couldn’t hear me but Edith didn’t look like she was about to push the girl.

  “And nothing. He was a gambler. They don’t really need anything else,” Sabrina called as she crouched over the keyboard of the computer on the opposite side of the aisle. I watched as she pulled up a horse racing website and searched the horse’s name. It looked like a screen of algebra to me. Something you had to translate back from gibberish to numbers before you could even try to solve the problems.

  Several more clicks later Sabrina stood and frowned at the screen. “Huh.”

  “Huh, what?”

  “The horse won. At a hundred and twenty-eight to one odds.”

  I nodded. “That’s nice.”

  “You don’t understand, do you?”

  I shrugged. “I understand what winning means.”

  Sabrina laughed and shut down the racing page before we could get caught.

  “Thank you, dear.” Edith said to the girl as she stood.

  Edith heading towards the front of the shop and we tunnelled back to the Italian Gardens to wait for her. I glanced around us at the precise flower beds and neatly trimmed grass.

  I pointed to Sabrina. “How come you don’t get hay fever here?”

  Sabrina looked around us and then began sneezing. “Thanks, Bridge.”

  I offered her a dried apricot and sighed. “I love how everything here is just so logical.” I glanced around us again. After looking at all those posters on the walls of the travel agents the park seemed a poor substitute. “Do you think tomorrow we could have lunch on a beach in Bali?”

  Sabrina swallowed the fruit and wiped at the tears leaking from her eyes. “Can’t.”

  “I’m sure Edith could tunnel us that far,” I said.

  “No, we can’t because of the border patrol.”

  “The what?” I asked, staring at her. I’d obviously misheard.

  “We can’t leave the country, or more precisely the land mass. We can go to Wales and Scotland but other than that we’d need passports and a whole host of travel documents.”

  I stared at her. “What?”

  Sabrina frowned at me. “Haven’t we had this conversation?”

  “No, we have not!” I snapped

  Sabrina shrugged, and settled down on the grass now her hay fever seemed to have abated. “Now we have.”

  “Did you say the horse was a winner, dear?” Edith popped up in front of me.

  “Did you know we were imprisoned here?” I asked.

  Edith frowned around her. “In the gardens?”

  “No, on this landmass.”

  Edith sighed. “Yes, it’s one of the many reasons why the GBs and I disagreed. But I don’t think it’s helpful for you to be focusing on that right now, dear. You have an assessment to pass and those types of questions aren’t going to help you.”

  “Fine,” I said, flopping down on the grass next to Sabrina. “But we’re going to discuss this at a later date.”

  Sabrina smirked at me, which made me think she was already working on a way to get around the border patrol. Probably for no other reason than she didn’t like to be told she couldn’t leave.

  “Back to the problem in hand,” Sabrina said. “I suggest we check out the allotment and Derek’s shed,”

  Edith nodded. “If he was trying to hide his gambling that would be the most likely place to keep his newspapers and betting slips.” Edith checked her watch. “I am otherwise engaged on another case this afternoon so I’ll wait for you ladies and we can go tomorrow.”

  If Sabrina had been a dog her ears would’ve pricked up. “What other case?”

  Edith waved away Sabrina’s interest. “Cheating husband.”

  “What do they need Madame Zorina for?” I asked with a frown. “Why wouldn’t they use a normal private investigator?”

  Edith shook her head. “Discretion.”

  “Why would a medium be more inclined to be discrete?” Sabrina asked.

  “I don’t know, dears. I’m just the hired help. Lunch tomorrow?”

  We nodded and Edith disappeared.

  “Was that a bit weird?” I asked Sabrina.

  She nodded. “Little bit, yeah.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “How was your afternoon?” Sabrina asked as I met her outside the fort. “Did Pete behave himself?”

  “He did. He didn’t verbally apologise for telling Oz about Madame Zorina but he was extra nice.”

  Sabrina huffed out a breath. “An apology would’ve been better.”

  We headed into the fort to find an extra thirty people or so milling around and eating all of our biscuits. I turned to Sabrina but she shook her head. I took that to mean she didn’t know what was happening either.

  “Here’s hoping we have another assessment tonight,” Warren grumbled as he walked past.

  I grabbed his arm. “Why? Who are these people and why are they drinking all my tea?”

  He shook his head. “You never listen. They’re an older GA group here to talk to us about their a-maz-ing experiences of the afterlife.”

  I glanced around the room at all the smiling and laughing and my lip curled in distaste. “Yeah, I’d much rather have an assessment than suffer through this.”

  Warren mumbled something in agreement before trying to fight his way through the happy people to the refreshment table.

  Sabrina grimaced as she surveyed the room. “If you do have an assessment, I’m coming with you. I’m not staying here. I don’t care how bad you say they are, they can’t be worse than this.”

  I was about to respond when the familiar tickle of the summoning vibrated through me. I gave Sabrina a little finger wave and watched her expression turn from surprise to disgusted resignation.

  I could smell the salt on the air before I’d fully landed. A view of the town, harbour and beach filled my vision. It was so beautiful that I almost smiled. Almost, because I remembered where I’d have to be to see this view. I turned around slowly and felt my shoulders sag.

  I shook my head. “Why does she always have to jinx me?”

  “Ah, Bridget. Warren.” Jenny stood at the gates to the cemetery. She held one open and waved us in. “That’s everybody.”

  “Must be lovely to be back here,” Warren said. “Such fond memories.”

  Don’t publicly wish him dead. Don’t publicly threaten him. Just let it go. “Yes, Warren, I have many fond memories of a cemetery. Doesn’t everyone?”

  The last time I was here it had been with Sabrina, and a gun-toting crazy person had chased us through the trees, so to say I had “fond memories” may have been overstating it a bit.

  I nodded at Jenny as I passed, leaving her with Warren, and stepped onto the familiar gravel path. A stream of the other members of the assessment group wandered slowly ahead. When Tommy saw me he slowed down to wait.

  “Lovely evening for a party in the cemetery, don’t you think?” He gestured around us at the sporadic graves and uneven grass.

  “Oh, I never attend parties anywhere else.”

  He leaned towards me and lowered his voice as we started walking again. “That’s what I’ve heard.”

  “I’m assuming that’s what everyone else has heard too.” I nodded in front of us to all the furtive glances being thrown my way. “Maybe everyone will keep their distance so when the next person bites it I won’t get the blame.”

  Tommy laughed quietly. “Something tells me that’s not the way it’s going to work out.”

  “It’s almost like you know me.” I turned to him and gave him a quick once over. He wore the brown jumpsuit of those who had yet to be allocated a profession, sleeves and trouser legs rolled up, and white boat shoes. “I like you.”

  He blinked as if I’d said something unexpected. “Thank you.”

  “Are you the murderer?”

 
; He jerked to a stop. “Me?”

  I stopped walking and turned to face him. “Yes.”

  “No. Are you?” His eyes darted up the path to the group ahead and Matthew with Nancy and Hannah following, their heads bent in what looked like a secretive conversation, and then to Jenny and Warren bringing up the rear, both of them watching us.

  “No.” I faced forward and started walking again. “I’d murder better people. Well, not better people, just people who annoyed me more.”

  “I have the feeling there’s quite a few of those,” Tommy said, falling into step beside me again.

  “I would certainly help with any concerns the bureau might have about overcrowding in the afterlife,” I agreed.

  He thrust his hands in his pockets and grinned, gently kicking at the gravel as he walked. “So, who do you think it is?”

  “I think it’s Jenny.” As an afterthought I glanced over my shoulder to make sure she was far enough behind that she couldn’t hear me accusing her of murder. She and Warren appeared deep in conversation. I couldn’t quite bring myself to suspect Warren for some reason. “But she’s such an obvious suspect, I kinda feel like it can’t be her. Like, if it was I’d be disappointed.”

  He nodded. “I know what you mean. I’m hoping it’s that Jessica, although that’s still a little obvious. Maybe the blonde woman two rows back and three rows in. I can’t think what motive she could have but that’s why she’s a good suspect.”

  I smiled at him. “Are you a murder mystery fan?”

  “The wife was.” He gave me a half shrug without taking his hands from his pockets. “I must have picked up a few lessons from her.”

  “Is your wife dead?” I asked with absolutely no tact as we walked under the wisteria tunnel, the sweet, potent scent of the blooms completely dwarfing the sea salt in the air.

  “Yep.”

  “Is she here?” I asked, gesturing around us.

  “No. We lived in Edinburgh so she was buried there.”

  “No, I meant, like, here.” I pointed to the ground as if that would somehow help clarify what I meant. “On this plane.”

  “As opposed to what plane?” He frowned at me. “There’s the alive plane and then the afterlife plane, right?”