by Fitz Molly
“Sunny. I have a surprise for you,” Tilly said.
The passenger door squeaked open. Sunny walked around the front of the red VW, rubbed her eyes, and looked at the mansion. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”
“According to my GPS, this is 142 Live Oak Lane in Frog Hollow, Georgia.”
Mocha jumped out of Tilly’s arms, and with her tail pointing up to the sky, walked silently to the front door, sat, and licked her paw.
“Our tour guide,” Tilly said and followed the cat up the stone steps.
She was about to push the Victorian brass doorbell when Sunny grabbed her arm and stopped her. “It’s late. Should we just wait in the car until the sun comes up?”
No! Don’t wait, I wanted to shout.
“What. And waste six hours of catching up with Audrey? I don’t think so, Sunny. Besides, the cat wants to go in.” Tilly said, and that seemed to satisfy Sunny.
I heard the deep ding dong ding echoing through my mansion.
Mocha looked up at them, stretched, and put her front paws on the door.
It opened with a long squeaky sound.
I glided down to the second-floor landing, careful to stay hidden but still in a position to see what they’d do next.
“I wasn’t expecting the cat to open the door, but maybe Audrey decided to leave it unlocked for us. This is a bed and breakfast, after all, and it seems like a safe neighborhood,” Tilly said. She fluffed her short hair and adjusted a colorful scarf tied around her neck.
“Creepy if you ask me,” Sunny whispered. She leaned forward, swiveling her head to scan the foyer, but staying firmly rooted outside. “You aren’t planning to go inside, are you?”
Mocha disappeared into the dark hallway. In answer, Tilly linked her arm through Sunny’s and pulled her across the threshold. She nudged the door with her elbow, pushing it closed behind them.
“No sense letting any night insects get in,” she said. I appreciated her thoughtfulness, not that those pesky mosquitoes could bother me anymore.
“Now what?” Sunny asked, as they waited in the dark interior.
Then, a blinding light from hundreds of flame-shaped bulbs in my overhead chandelier burst the room into a mid-day brightness.
“Who are you?” Birdie blurted out in an angry hiss at this unexpected intrusion. In her early fifties, she wore a scowl under her copper and gold hair that stuck out in every direction, and she hated anyone disturbing her beauty sleep. As she moved further down the stairs, her purple satin robe swished around her plump frame.
I call Birdie my manager, but really, she’s so much more. Where would Moonlight Mansion be without her eagle eye watching all the details. However, nothing about her businesslike demeanor offered a welcome to Moonlight Mansion.
Tilly, blinking the blindness from her eyes, stared at Birdie. I imagined this was the opposite of the warm greeting she’d expected.
“You’re not Audrey. This is the Moonlight Mansion, isn’t it?”
“Ya got that right, hon, but who the heck are you?”
“Tilly Morris and my friend Sunny Shaw, from Pineville, Maine,” she answered. She put her arm around Sunny’s shoulders and drew her close. “Audrey invited us for the weekend,” she added like that would clear everything up.
“Ya don’t say.” Birdie leaned against the elegant banister that curved from the grand entry to the second level. I waited in the shadows as Birdie tried to dispatch my guests. “We’re full. Or, at least we will be tomorrow.”
I wanted to say something but didn’t dare reveal myself. They needed to get away from Birdie and up to my apartment, or they might decide to turn around and leave. I couldn’t risk that.
Looking exhausted from their long drive, Tilly asked, “Where’s Audrey? She’ll clear everything up.”
“Well, hon, that’s the problem… Audrey died a month ago.”
I’m sure I let out a sob, but no one seemed to notice.
Chapter Three
Tilly dropped Mocha when she heard the news. “Excuse me?” she said as though she had something stuck in her ears. Mocha, as shocked as Tilly but for different reasons, landed with a thud and an unhappy yowl.
“Oh, my goodness,” Birdie said. She stared at the cat with eyes wide as if she’d seen a ghost. If she only knew who she’d been living with for the past month, I thought, chuckling to myself.
She stepped backward, moving up a couple of stairs. “That’s Mocha, Audrey’s black cat. I’d recognize her anywhere with her one green and one yellow eye. She disappeared the night Audrey died. Watch out for her. Audrey was the only one who could get near that cat. I can’t believe she came back.”
The cat flicked its tail and looked at Tilly as if to say, Don’t believe a word of that nonsense. I could tell Mocha trusted Tilly and Sunny. That made me extremely happy.
Sunny stepped in front of Tilly and picked up the cat. “Come on. Audrey said we’d be staying in her apartment on the third floor. I’m sure we can find our way. Let’s go.”
Birdie spread her arms wide, like a traffic guard. “Wait just a minute! No one has been up there since the accident.”
I wanted to beckon them upstairs, but there was nothing I could do without revealing myself. If I did that, Birdie might drop dead right in front of Tilly and Sunny. No, I had to be patient.
“Okay, then,” Sunny said. She cuddled Mocha, who obviously loved the attention. “It’s either that, or you can treat us like Audrey’s guests while you fill us in on the details.”
“Now?”
“Now,” Sunny said, leaving no room for an argument. “And what’s your name?”
“Birdie Belle Long, after my great grandmother and proud of it,” she said, standing taller and jutting out her chin. Yes. Birdie got more than her great grandmother’s name. She’d inherited an inner strength, a fierce loyalty, and a passion for doing the right thing. No matter what.
“Okay, Birdie,” Tilly said, flashing a charming smile that she’d perfected over the decades. “We just drove through the night and a nice cold drink would go down well right about now. Where’s the kitchen?”
Birdie, to her credit, pulled herself together with several quick finger combs to smooth her bed-head hair before she wiggled and jiggled to straighten her robe.
“Follow me.” She led them through a maze of hallways to the back of the mansion, into my enormous kitchen.
Tilly didn’t look impressed one bit, but Sunny’s eyes almost fell off her face when she saw the gleaming commercial-sized appliances and expansive granite counters. She must love to cook. I imagine the kitchen was a dream come true.
Birdie hurried to clear the island, stuffing receipts and other papers in her beautiful soft, tan leather briefcase. It was a relic from her life before coming to the Mansion that she used out of habit. “I’ve been doing my paperwork and using the kitchen as my office. Why don’t you two have a seat?”
Tidy to a fault, she stashed her busywork out of sight of Tilly and Sunny in the hall closet, then ushered them to the cozy nook built into a U-shaped wall of windows, dark outside now except for the moonlight filtering in. She joined them with a pitcher, glasses, and a plate of cookies. Tilly smiled, seeming to thaw a bit toward Birdie. Food, especially sweets, had a way of doing that for her.
“Is sweetened iced tea okay with you ladies?” Birdie asked.
Tilly nodded and helped herself to a pecan shortbread cookie. Boy, did I miss those tender bites of buttery morsels. Sadly, they wouldn’t melt in my mouth now, given how things have turned out.
“Thanks, Birdie,” Sunny said as she stroked Mocha. “Now, tell us what happened to Audrey?”
Birdie settled onto a chair with a deep sigh like she’d hoped they’d forgotten about that detail. I knew she hated thinking about, never mind talking about the night I died.
She filled three glasses with tea. “There’s a balcony off Audrey’s living room on the third floor,” she said, clearly shivering at the memory. “She fell, landed
right on one of her prize peach rose bushes. The investigation concluded that her fall was an accident.” She bit into a cookie and brushed the crumbs off the table. She probably wished she could brush Sunny and Tilly away just as easily.
Tilly bolted up straight. “An investigation? Does that mean there was evidence of possible foul play?” The reality that I was dead suddenly registered with her and seemed to fill my friend with a deep and profound sadness. I felt sorry that I was the reason for her sorrow.
Birdie waved her hand dismissively. “Of course, they had to investigate, but since Audrey had been upstairs by herself, there wasn’t anything suspicious to point to. All the guests had gone to bed.” She shrugged. “It had to be an accident, right?”
I knew Birdie was a decent person, but she’d never shown a shred of a suspicious imagination. That’s why I needed Tilly, now more than ever, to help me. She would never take something like this at face value. Especially since I told her in my letter about some oddities happening, and how I couldn’t trust anyone.
“Guests?” Tilly asked. “Maybe someone snuck up to her apartment after everyone else had gone to sleep.”
Birdie narrowed her eyes. “Hmmm. I never thought of that. There was no sign of a break-in, but since Audrey rarely locked her doors, we didn’t think anything of it. The detective on the case interviewed everyone, and he was satisfied with the alibis. No other clues showed up, either. Plus, he’s a real looker, if ya know what I mean.”
I rolled my eyes, or at least it felt like I did. Birdie was so easily turned by a good-looking man that she’d believe anything he told her. My estranged husband came to mind on that front. But, no clues? I relived the memory of two hands shoving my back. There had to be a clue somewhere.
“Plus,” Birdie continued, popping my memory bubble. “Why would anyone want to kill Audrey? Everyone adored her. She donated to all the local charities, did fundraisers for the animal shelter and library, and was even planning to run for mayor of our little community. That was mostly a symbolic position than anything else, but Audrey liked that kind of thing.” Birdie stuffed another cookie into her mouth.
Adored me? On the surface, they did for the exact reason Birdie laid out—my generous donations. I might be dead, but I wasn’t a fool.
“Well, from our perspective,” Tilly said, glancing at Sunny who gave her a raised eyebrow. “Something sounds fishy. People don’t always tell the truth. Especially, if they’re hiding a secret.”
I couldn’t agree more.
“I suppose you might have a point,” Birdie said. “At any rate, you’ll get to meet everyone who stayed here the night Audrey died. She’d planned a big Halloween party but now it’s just an intimate gathering. They’re arriving tomorrow. I’ve been wondering why they want to return. I suppose it could be because Audrey’s parties were a must-show event for the people invited or,” and now Birdie gave both Sunny and Tilly a knowing glance, “because her lawyer will read her will. That has been the talk of the town since she died.”
Birdie finished her iced tea, dabbed the edges of her lips with her finger, and pushed herself up from the chair. “I’m sure you two are tired after your trip, and I need to get my beauty sleep. It’s guaranteed to be a busy weekend, so how about I show you the way upstairs to Audrey’s apartment?”
“Sunny,” Tilly said. “I’ll take the cat, and you can go out to the car and get our bags.”
“You’re taking the cat upstairs with you?” Birdie looked aghast at the thought of spending the night with Mocha.
“It’s where she lived when Audrey was alive, right?”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts about it. Mocha stays with us. Having a cat for company will make it feel more like home for us, right Sunny?”
“Totally.”
“Follow the stairs when you come back in, Sunny,” Birdie said. “Or, leave Mocha to lead the way. She used to think she owned the place.”
“I don’t doubt it. She’s a cat,” Sunny answered as if that explained everything. To anyone who knew cats, I suppose it did. She wandered off in the direction of the front door.
They were suspicious, they loved Mocha, and they didn’t let Birdie intimidate them. My anticipation to sit and chat with my old friend and her guest made me tingle in some weird way, but I had no idea what it meant.
Chapter Four
Birdie stopped to catch her breath as she and Tilly made their way up the long flight of stairs to the second floor.
Tilly took the pause in their climb to ask, “Did Audrey ever talk about me?”
I had a stab of remorse that I hadn’t made my friend a bigger part of my life. I hoped she’d forgive me for that.
Knowing how much Birdie hated exercise, I wasn’t surprised when she had to take deep breaths before answering Tilly’s question. “Now that my brain is awake, I do recall she mentioned a friend from up north that she’d invited for the weekend. I wish I’d remembered sooner. I would have sent you a letter about Audrey’s accident. It would have saved you the trip.” She turned and began to climb again.
Tilly took the stairs nimbly even though she was decades older than Birdie. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m glad we came. As a matter of fact, I can’t wait to meet Audrey’s friends tomorrow.” She put Mocha down and followed Birdie.
Mocha sat and looked down the stairs. Was she waiting for Sunny?
“Not to be rude,” Birdie said, stopping again and turning to look at Tilly. “But there’s not a single one in the bunch that deserved Audrey’s friendship, except her daughter, Charlotte. That’s my opinion, though, and she must have felt differently.” Apparently, I’d hid my suspicions well.
They reached the landing and Birdie sighed with relief. “Her lawyer, Douglas Cassidy, is the grumpiest man I’ve ever met, but Audrey insisted on keeping him around. There was one thing you could count on with Audrey; she was loyal.”
Loyal to a fault, I reminded myself as I listened to Birdie. Or, I told myself, smart.
“And the others?” Tilly asked.
“Her daughter, Charlotte, is a decent enough person, but she needs a stronger backbone, but that Tucker Hayes she married… a snake, in my opinion. And that’s insulting the beneficial garter snakes we have around here. The only good thing to come out of that union is their daughter, Nikki. She’s Audrey’s one and only granddaughter, her pride and joy, and the sweetest, kindest soul you’ll ever meet.”
Sadness threatened to overwhelm me when Birdie mentioned Nikki. She took after me in many ways. She had my focus, strong will, and determination.
“I didn’t know Audrey had a granddaughter,” Tilly said as they walked quietly down the hall. “Will she be here, too?”
“No,” Birdie said, pulling her robe up around her neck. “She doesn’t like all the hoopla of these events. She says everyone is too fake, and I have to agree. She’s probably off in some village in Africa helping to install a pump for water or something like that. She pretty much thinks of everyone but herself. Audrey couldn’t have been prouder of Nikki.” Birdie blinked away what looked like tears forming at the corner of her eyes.
I heard the front door click closed and footsteps heading toward the stairs.
“Is anyone else coming tomorrow?” Tilly asked.
“I’m not sure. We’ll find out if they show up. It’s Douglas, Charlotte, and Tucker who will have their hands out waiting to grab something from the will.”
That wasn’t a flattering picture of the people close to me. But it was accurate. Tilly and Sunny had a big task ahead. Little did I know when I sent my letter that I’d need their eyes and ears more than ever this weekend. That is if they stayed once they found out about the new me.
Mocha dashed down the dark hallway past Birdie and several closed doors. Sunny dropped two bags on the landing.
Birdie glanced after Mocha. The cat had disappeared down the hall. “If you two don’t mind, I’ll slip into my room right here. The stairs to Audrey’s apartment are straight
ahead. Follow Mocha. She knows the way. I should warn you that there’s been some funny noises and odd lights in that upstairs apartment. Maybe it was the cat; I don’t know. But, to be completely honest, it’s been kind of creepy in this big old mansion all by myself for the past month.”
She pulled the sash on her robe tighter like it offered more than protection from the chilly air.
“You think there’s a ghost up there?” Tilly sounded like that was too farfetched even for her to believe. She looked at Sunny, covering her mouth, but I saw the corner of her lips twitch.
“Oh no,” Birdie said unconvincingly. “I don’t believe in that sorta stuff,” Birdie said, suddenly ready to be rid of them. “In the morning, follow your nose for coffee and muffins. I’ll be in the kitchen at the crack of dawn. G’night now.” She wiggled her fingers and disappeared behind one of the heavy oak doors, closing it with a firm thunk.
Tilly looked at Sunny and picked up a bag. “That was a quick escape. What do you think about all this?” she asked as they tiptoed down the hallway.
“I think Birdie’s afraid of the dark. And, more importantly, I think we’re on the trail of a murderer. The good part is, no one will expect us to be looking. The bad part is… we’re looking for a murderer,” Sunny said. The thick carpet muffled their footsteps. A clock chimed once, then silence fell on the mansion again.
“Yeah,” Tilly said like she was digesting that probability.
As soon as they reached the stairs, Mocha leaped ahead, silent and full of grace, like a ghost in the night, I thought.
They climbed to my apartment door. “Here we are,” Tilly said. She turned the cut-glass knob. The door opened silently, and Mocha slipped inside, disappearing in the darkness.
I made myself comfortable and said, “It’s about time.”
“What did you say?” Tilly asked turning toward Sunny.
“That wasn’t me,” Sunny whispered as the light flipped on.