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

by Jordaina Sydney Robinson

  It wasn’t until he mentioned her that I noticed she was back in the group. She looked a little dazed, and the crazy in her eyes had dissipated somewhat. We moved to the chairs in the middle of the circle. I watched Jessica for the first sign she was going to launch at me and scratch my eyes out, but it was like she didn’t even recognise me. I edged my chair back because that vacant gaze unsettled me more than her crazy chanting.

  Matthew offered Jessica the top card and she read it aloud. “You find a puppy by the side of the road that looks like it’s been hit by a car. It’s still breathing but it’s struggling. What do you do?” Jessica looked up at me.

  “You take it to the vets.” I glanced around the group and saw people shifting uncomfortably in their chairs. “Obviously.”

  “Is that what you’d do, Jessica? As a law-abiding and well-adjusted member of our afterlife society?” Matthew asked.

  “No, Matthew it’s not.” She puffed up her ponytail. “I would leave the puppy and carry on with my duties.”

  “You’d leave a dying puppy by the side of the road?” I was going to slap the smug right off her face. How dare she leave this imaginary puppy, who I’d already decided was a brown Labrador called Peppy, to die.

  “Yes, Bridget. I would. The puppy is none of my concern.”

  “Excellent. Well done, Jessica.” Matthew gave her a brief round of applause then motioned us both out of the seats. “Next pair is—”

  I held up my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up there. Leaving an injured animal on the side of the road to die when you could help is the epitome of being ‘well-adjusted’?”

  “Yes.” Matthew motioned for Warren and a teenage boy to take the seats.

  I looked to Sabrina who was wearing a horrified expression. She gave me a subtle nod. Yep, we were going to be joining Edith as outlaws anytime now.

  “Excuse me, Matthew, but how exactly is this role play?” Tommy asked.

  “It just is.” Matthew said with a dismissive shake of his head. He offered Warren a card and motioned for him to start reading.

  “You are at the site of a car accident,” Warren read. “A little girl has crawled from the wreckage and into the middle of the road. A truck is approaching but not slowing down. What do you do?”

  ∞

  “Sabrina, Hannah and Nancy, can you stay behind and make sure all the costumes are put away neatly, please?” Matthew called from the doorway of the backstage room as we all stripped out of our totally pointless get-ups.

  “I’m sure everyone is capable of putting their costumes away neatly,” I said as I hung mine back on its hanger and moved away from the rack.

  “And now you’re in charge of making that happen as well,” Matthew said as he turned his back and left the room.

  “I’m pretty sure you can’t do that,” I called after him but he was gone. “I’m only staying because I’d have to wait for you anyway.” I pointed to Sabrina. “Not because he told me to.”

  Sabrina shook her head. “Wasn’t even going to question it.”

  Nancy and Hannah cried off minutes after Matthew disappeared, figuring that Sabrina would have to stay and sort it all out since her friend was being assessed. Made me extra happy I worked alone.

  “Well, that was pointless,” Sabrina said twenty minutes later all after we’d hung all the costumes. Apparently everyone wasn’t capable of doing it. “I don’t understand these assessments at all. I mean, how could you leave an injured puppy by the side of the road?”

  “I told you that Jessica was crazy.”

  “You did. But I still don’t believe she called you a witch in front of people.” Sabrina inclined her head. “Swap the ‘w’ for a ‘b’ and I could get behind that.”

  “Oh, thanks so much, best friend.”

  “Hey, just because I’m your best friend doesn’t mean I’m blind to your faults. Your many, many, many faults.”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Private Investigator. Remind me again which one of us found Derek’s cash stash?” I said as I held my hand out and let Sabrina tunnel us. She frowned and we remained in the costume room.

  “Maybe we can’t do it in here,” she said, looking around for some explanation as to why. We couldn’t do it from inside the hall either so we went outside to the corridor. Still no luck.

  “Maybe they’ve shuttered the school into a no tunnelling zone,” I offered. “Let’s go and hunt Matthew down to expel us or whatever he needs to do.”

  The assembly hall was at one end of the building so there was only one direction to go. We passed a couple of classrooms on either side and peeked inside as we went.

  “How big is this place?” Sabrina asked as we passed the wide staircase on the right leading to the maths and geography classrooms. I hoped we didn’t have to check up there –they had even less pleasant memories than everywhere else.

  “As a whole it’s fairly big, but’s it’s split into four separate buildings. In this one there must be about fifteen classrooms down here, maybe a few more than that upstairs.” I pointed to the end of the corridor. “That opens up into the reception and there’s another staircase to the left that takes you to the next floor, but this building is pretty small.”

  Sabrina paused by the open staircase. “So really we could just shout and Matthew would hear us from here?”

  “Yeah, he should do.” I nodded and turned to Sabrina, waiting for her to call out to him.

  She was looking around. The building was built in the early nineteen hundreds so it had always had that gothic, spooky air that all older buildings had. But now that it was temporarily empty for the summer, the hollowness amplified it. It was a good job I was a ghost or I might have been creeped out by it.

  Sabrina checked over her shoulder. “Y’know, I think we should just track him down.”

  We peeked in each classroom as we passed. Unless Matthew had tunnelled, there was really no place for him to have gone other than upstairs. I did not want to go up there. It wasn’t any more creepy but it had maths classes. I hated maths. And geography.

  We stepped into the open reception area. A semi-circular desk sat to my left and visitors’ chairs were to my right. A big, sturdy chain looped the outside handles of the glass doors that led to the foyer and the wooden double doors beyond.

  “Maybe we can mist through them and tunnel from outside,” I said as I placed my hand on the glass. It didn’t budge. “Or not.”

  “Okay, I’m starting to get a little freaked out now.” Sabrina’s hand was firmly jammed in her pocket, no doubt clutching whatever weapon she had in there.

  “Uh-huh.” I cast around and my eyes lit on the small, liftable coffee table between the visitors’ chairs. I picked it up. “Break glass in case of emergency?”

  “I’ll take the heat for this. You’re being assessed. Last thing you need is a criminal damage charge.” Sabrina took it from my hands and weighed it. “I’m not sure this is going to do it.”

  Sabrina lifted the table but before she could attempt to launch it through the glass a tapping noise sounded from behind us. We turned to see a figure swathed in black wearing a white Phantom of the Opera mask and twirling what looked like a log. I reached for Oz’s whistle to find it gone. I was about to start checking my pockets thinking I’d lost it when I remembered I’d snatched it off and he’d not given it back to me. That’s what you get for having a temper tantrum. Lesson learned.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Are you kidding me?” Sabrina called to the slowly approaching figure. “I’ve just tidied all those costumes up. You better put it back in the right place or there’ll be hell to pay.”

  I turned to her. “That’s your main concern here? We’re being faced down by a serial killer and you’re bothered about him putting the costume back in the right place?”

  “It took us twenty minutes to tidy those up.” Sabrina frowned briefly at the figure and then turned back to me. “Why? What’s your main concern?”

  “Run …” the figure hissed a
t us.

  “We’re locked inside with no way to call for help, so where did he get the log from? I don’t think I saw any in the costume room, which means either he can get in and out or he brought it with him when he was summoned. And if he did, how come no one noticed? Unless the whole group is in on it together or it’s Matthew. Or it’s someone else entirely who’s been waiting in here all along.”

  Sabrina’s expression was thoughtful. “They’re actually quite valid points.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Run …” the figure hissed again.

  “Not today, Erik.” Sabrina pulled a stun gun from her pocket and switched it on. “I’m pretty sure this beats your log, but why not step on over here and we’ll give it a go. I know Bridget would like to have a chat with you about all the uniforms of hers you’ve ruined.”

  “Actually, I’d rather just punch him in the face. And I thought we’d kind of agreed it was most likely Matthew.” I eyed the approaching figure, trying to gauge his physique underneath the cape. “I know I’ve said it’s not Eric.”

  Sabrina stared at me. “What?”

  “It’s not Eric. It’s not Watson’s ex-boyfriend.”

  “Not Eric. Erik. The Phantom of the Opera’s sort of real name.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” I gestured to the figure. “Continue threatening him.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Run …” he hissed again but he’d stopped moving closer.

  “Look,” Sabrina said. “I think it’s clear we’re not going to run, so how about you take that mask off and surrender?”

  “Y’know, I completely understand why people want to kill you.” Warren removed the mask and gestured to us with his log. “It’s very unsatisfying trying to threaten people who are too stupid to be scared.”

  Sabrina stepped towards him with the stun gun in her outstretched hand and Warren backed up, taking his log and raising his other hand.

  “Hey-hey-hey, I’m not the killer.”

  Sabrina nodded and took another step. “Oh, I know, but I’m still going to stun you for being an idiot.”

  Warren pointed a finger at me, his voice inching up. “I was getting her back for slapping me.”

  “I slapped you for trying to frame me for your faux murder. There is no getting me back here.”

  Sabrina pointed to the length of wood Warren was carelessly swinging around. “How did you know the murder weapon was a log?”

  “Everyone knows that the good doctor was killed with a log.”

  “Uh-huh.” Sabrina nodded, obviously still not completely convinced of Warren’s innocence. “And I suppose you just happened to have one in your coat pocket.”

  Warren shrugged. “There’s a fake fireplace in the staffroom upstairs. Took you two so long to hang a couple of tops I had time to explore.”

  “Well, isn’t that lovely for you.” I scanned the corridor behind us. We were still alone. Sound travelled when the school was empty, so wherever Matthew was he should’ve heard us. “Don’t suppose you killed Matthew on your travels?”

  “Yeah, he was—I mean, no. I didn’t kill him, but I did see him. He was heading back to the costume room mumbling about how inept you four were, taking so long to tidy up.” Warren gestured between us with his log. “Where are the other two?”

  “They left.” Sabrina turned to me. “Could Matthew have passed us?”

  “I don’t see how. How long ago was this?” I asked Warren.

  “Ten minutes or so,” Warren said and stripped out of his costume, leaving it crumpled on the floor. “I’m off to our GA meeting so I don’t get in trouble.”

  Sabrina pointed to the heap of clothing. “I’d appreciate it if you’d tidy your costume away first.”

  Warren looked at the pile of clothes on the floor and shook his head. “Nah.”

  He stood perfectly still and tried to tunnel. Half a minute later, he hadn’t tunnelled but his face was flushed from effort. He pointed his log at Sabrina. “What did you do?”

  Sabrina smirked at him, arms folded, stun gun still in hand. “Why did you imagine we were looking for Matthew? To say our fond farewells?”

  Warren’s attention darted frantically around the corridor. His breathing became shallow and jagged. Sabrina jerked her head in his direction and looked at me.

  I held my hands up. “I’ve got no clue what’s wrong with him.”

  “I’m claustrophobic.” His words came out on ragged exhales as he tried and failed to open the collar of his jumpsuit. Considering they were fastened with poppers I found that a pretty impressive act of ineptitude.

  “It’s not exactly like you’re confined.” I flapped my arms around like a bird to demonstrate the space.

  Warren’s face turned a sickly shade of green and he dropped to all fours, panting heavily. Okay, so maybe not ineptitude. Maybe just a severe phobia.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” Sabrina mumbled. He finally managed to jerk the top popper of his jumpsuit open, as if that would help him catch his breath.

  I stepped closer to him and peered down at his face. “I think he’s genuinely having a panic attack. Let’s get him up and find Matthew.”

  Sabrina leaned back to assess him. “I think we should leave him. He tried to terrify us.”

  Warren’s breathing was still coming in short, shallow gasps. “No. No. You can’t leave me. Tell her, Bridget. We’re friends. You don’t leave your friends behind. I told you about the shadow.”

  “He’s right,” I said to Sabrina. “And besides, if we find Matthew in here and he is the killer we can just give him Warren and save ourselves.”

  “What?” Warren gasped at me. “You wouldn’t.”

  Sabrina pointed to me. “Good point. Always got to have an escape plan. Alright. Let’s get you up.” Sabrina pocketed her stun gun and helped me pull Warren to his feet.

  “So, you really think Matthew wants to kill you?” Warren asked as we staggered back along the corridor to the assembly hall, trying to hold him up.

  “Do I still have a death shroud?” Before Warren could answer, I gestured around Sabrina with one hand as if I were touching her aura. “Oh, and by the way, apparently you have one now too.”

  “What?” Sabrina dropped Warren’s arm and he fell to his knees as I struggled to hold him. “When did you find this out?”

  “Warren told me before the assessment.”

  Sabrina thrust her hands on her hips. “Someone wants to kill me and you’re only telling me this now?”

  “I forgot, okay?” I let go of Warren’s other arm and he fell back to all fours. At least his breathing had evened out.

  Sabrina’s voice hitched up in pitch. “You forgot?”

  “Yes. I forgot. I was busy being shunned by the well-adjusted folk in the role play because I wouldn’t leave an injured puppy by the side of the road. Not to mention I have a shadow and a cloud, so if the killer turns up I’m pretty sure that I’m their first victim.”

  “Are you two always like this?” Warren looked between us, still on all fours, then shook his head as if it didn’t matter and focused his attention back on me. “That’s not what the cloud means. It means you’ve not accepted that you’re dead. You think you’re surrounded by dead people but you’re apart from it. That’s why you’re being assessed, right? Because you’ve not accepted the fact you’re dead?”

  Sabrina turned to me. “You know you’re dead, right?”

  I pointed to Sabrina. “You’re going to be dead in a minute if you don’t shut up.”

  Warren glanced to Sabrina but gestured to me. “This is what I mean. She hasn’t let go of her old life or she wouldn’t threaten you with death because she’d realise you’re already dead.”

  “Don’t think I won’t punch you in the face just because you’re recovering from a panic attack,” I warned Warren. “And, trust me, as the girl who keeps finding dead ghosts in her locker, death is still a pretty good threat.”

  “Speaking of dead ghosts,” Warren sai
d, reaching a hand out to me so I could help him up. “Can we please just find Matthew and get out of here? Or not Matthew. Or someone who can unlock us.”

  Sabrina spent the majority of the short walk back to the assembly hall checking over her shoulder. Initially, I thought she was watching our backs, but then I realised she was watching her back. As in looking for her death shroud.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she grumbled when she saw me smirking.

  We headed through the doors into the assembly hall. It was empty, which wasn’t really a surprise. The chair-desks remained where we’d left them, each one just slightly out of position, which gave the hall an ominous, deserted vibe.

  “Let’s check backstage again so I can put this stupid costume away and we can make sure Matthew didn’t somehow double back on us,” Warren suggested, his breathing still heavy but the green tinge now faded from his cheeks.

  “He’s not in there,” Sabrina said. “We just came from in there.”

  “Let’s check again, okay?” Warren said over his shoulder as he led the way.

  I raised an eyebrow at Sabrina, asking if she trusted him. She shook her head and motioned for me to keep my eyes on our backs, her hand deep in her stun gun pocket. Just because I didn’t think Warren was the killer didn’t mean I was going to follow him blindly into a room with only one exit. After the last who’s-the-murderer debacle, I was pretty sure I couldn’t spot a murderer if he slapped me across the face.

  The costume room was exactly as we left it minutes earlier: tidy and empty.

  “Do you guys really think Matthew is the killer?” Warren asked as he found a hanger, draped his cape and mask onto it then shoved it back onto the rail.

  “It doesn’t go there,” I said while watching the only door and Warren. Sabrina checked around the sides of the room for cupboards or closets.

  Warren snatched it off the rail and shoved it at me. “Fine, Mrs OCD, you put it away.”

  I took it from him and held it up. “This is from a musical, so it goes with the musical costumes.” I moved to the next rail along and pushed at the costumes to make a space on the rail but they were heavy and hard to move. I parted them a little and then shoved each hand in opposite directions to make space. There was a rip and a snap. I was about to claim that I wasn’t taking the blame for it when Matthew, still upright, rolled through the gap. Warren grabbed my arm and pulled me back out of the way as Matthew fell, face first, onto the floor. He landed with a heavy thud. He didn’t move.