by Sharon Pape
“I do have a spell,” I said. “Let’s hope it works.” I told Merlin to wait in my shop with his marmot. I didn’t want to chance sending his familiar away with the others or we’d be back where we started. When he was gone, I took up a position from which I could see all the marmots and began.
All the marmots I can see,
Go back from whence you came.
The words that summoned you were flawed,
Though you bear no blame.
I close the door to anymore,
For here you can’t remain.
One by one the marmots winked away. Tilly applauded, collapsing with relief into a chair with uneven legs that toppled over, spilling her onto the floor. The good news was that the chair was so low she didn’t have far to fall. She sat there in layers of billowing chiffon muumuu, laughing at herself. I couldn’t help but join in. Hearing the merriment, Merlin returned with his marmot and we spent another five minutes laughing until my belly hurt—a much-needed antidote to Beverly and the marmot brigade.
I helped my aunt off the floor, since Merlin was too occupied by the new lady in his life to come to her rescue. Tilly dusted herself off and headed to her computer to order new furniture. I suggested some kind of composite that was less likely to appeal to a marmot, in case the spell didn’t work at full capacity.
I made it back into my shop in time to welcome a group of four women in their sixties, whose company my family had always enjoyed. They’d been making the pilgrimage down from Albany twice a year for the past seven years to stock up on health and beauty aids. The trip had also become a much needed mini vacation away from their spouses. This time they were staying the night in the new Waverly Hotel.
When they saw how bare the shelves were, they were taken aback. I explained about the earthquake and promised to ship them whatever wasn’t in stock as soon as possible. They insisted on paying in full upfront.
“In all the years we’ve been coming here, your family has never taken advantage of us,” the most outspoken of the women said, “and your products have always worked better than advertised. We trust you implicitly, so say no more on the subject.”
The others echoed her sentiments. They stayed a while to chat and when they left, they each hugged me goodbye with such warmth that I was almost brought to tears.
By the time I dragged myself home, I was exhausted. Sashkatu, who’d slept through the ups and downs of the day, including the exploding marmot population, was so groggy I was afraid he’d walk smack into a tree. To be safe, I carried him. I wondered how he would take to the new member of our family. He never suffered change well, but age had ground his aggressive tendencies down to mere grumpiness. And as long as Merlin’s marmot didn’t try to usurp his favorite snoozing spots, peace might be possible.
I fed my wildlife and tried to interest myself in an egg sandwich, but it didn’t go well. I decided to call Travis and fill him in on Beverly’s visit. Maybe I’d be hungrier and more favorably disposed to the egg by the time we hung up.
He answered the phone with a jaunty, “Hey!”
“You’re in a fun mood. Good day at work?”
“No—awful.”
“I’m confused.”
“Hold on”
I was still waiting for him to get back on the line when the doorbell rang. I opened the door ready to send any solicitor away. “Travis?” My heart broke into its happy dance while my brain was busy playing catch-up.
“You’re not sure?” He caught me around the waist with one arm and pulled me close to kiss me. He smelled delicious, like he’d doused himself in eau d’ Chinese food. When he let go of me to shut the door, I finally saw the shopping bag in his other hand. “I come bearing gifts. Hope you haven’t eaten yet.”
“I was going to have an egg, but I’d much rather have an egg roll.” I followed him into the kitchen. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
He set the bag on the counter. “I like surprising you.”
“Why?” I understood surprise parties, but surprise Chinese food? “What if I wasn’t home? You would have driven all the way here for nothing.”
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” I shook my head. He focused on taking the containers out of the bag as if he didn’t want to look at me. “When you’re surprised to see me, there’s this flash of happiness in your eyes. The day it’s not there, I’ll know it’s over.” His tone was solemn, weighty, like when he was anchoring on a bad news day.
“Have I given you any reason to think that way?”
“No, but it’s happened to me more than once, and I’m tired of being blindsided.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my cheek to his, the stubble of his beard as rough as sandpaper. I couldn’t think of any words that would comfort him. I could swear my feelings for him would never change, but the women who preceded me had probably sworn similar vows. Even wedding vows were no guarantee of lasting love. The proof he wanted depended on the test of time.
“I can’t imagine I will ever want to leave you,” I said, stepping back so I could look in his eyes. “But no one can know for sure. Not even my aunt Tilly. My grandmother used to say that everything in life involves risk. With each choice we make we have to ask ourselves if the risk is worth the reward. I think that’s the best anyone can do.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “Where you’re concerned, that’s an easy one for me.”
“For me too.” I lay my head against his chest and we held onto each other until my stomach gurgled loudly and made us both laugh.
“I think we’d better get some food into you,” Travis said, the heaviness gone from his voice. He set the table while I made a pitcher of iced tea. Between mouthfuls he told me about his day, in which everything that could go wrong did just that. From wearing mismatched socks to faulty equipment in the newsroom to a profanity laced tirade of a state senator that was broadcast live.
I told him about Trudy seeing Scott’s ghost. “I think you were right from the start,” he said, helping himself to sesame chicken. “This ghost is someone dressing up to look like Scott, trying to scare the people he blames for Scott’s death. After ten years, memory fades. Odds are this ghost doesn’t even look that much like Scott.”
“It would explain why the ghost isn’t an energy cloud like my dearly departed. But why wait this many years to go after people you hold responsible?”
“Maybe he was waiting for the class reunion so everyone would be together again and it would become clear the killings and ghostly appearances are payback. But I don’t see how pretending to be Scott’s ghost does more than give them a scare.”
“Oh I do,” I said, nibbling on a sparerib. “Seeing the ghost of someone you helped to kill would freak out most people. And if you knew the ghost was on a revenge-fueled rampage, you might be scared enough to confess and beg for mercy.”
“But there haven’t been any attempts on the lives of the people who’ve seen the ghost,” Travis pointed out. “Not yet anyway.”
“Maybe the ghost isn’t sure about their guilt.” I tried to twirl some pork lo mein into a neat, bite-sized forkful, but failed miserably. I took my knife to it and cut the slippery strands into more manageable portions. “You’re still with me on revenge being the most likely motive Genna was murdered, right?” Travis nodded. “And our most likely suspects are Lillian Desmond, Charlie Desmond, and Ashley Rennet.” He nodded again. “After seeing Lillian today, I think we can drop her to the bottom of the list.”
Travis downed his glass of iced tea in one breath. “Tell me why.”
“I didn’t see the fire of revenge in her eyes or in anything she said. She’s coping. It’s a work in progress.”
“But you’re not saying she can’t possibly be our killer.”
“No, I can’t go that far.”
“What’s next on your to do list?”
“First I want to speak to Trudy Campion, seer of ghosts, followed by Charlie Desmond. He was two years ahead of Scott and me in school. What I recall most about him is that he loved to tease us and play pranks on Scott, like frenching his bed. But now I probably couldn’t pick him out in a lineup.”
Chapter 11
The dishes were in the dishwasher, the leftovers stashed in the refrigerator. Travis wasn’t needed back at the newsroom until the next afternoon. We were cuddled on the couch, half watching a rerun of NCIS. Sashkatu was stretched out along the spine of the couch, the other cats were dozing around the room. Within two seconds of the front door opening, they were gone, except for Sashki, who must have figured I’d protect him. Travis jumped up too, ready to take on any intruder with the remote as his weapon. He wasn’t yet accustomed to my aunt’s unannounced visits.
She marched in wearing her new orange Day-Glo sneakers, a pie carrier in her hands. The marmot bounded after her, followed by Merlin. It didn’t take long for his presence to register with my scaredy-cats. They crept out of hiding, torn between the draw of the wizard and concern about the strange creature with him.
Tilly stopped at the edge of the living room. “Oh my, sorry to barge in. I didn’t realize you had company.”
“I’m not company,” Travis said, walking around the couch to plant a kiss on her cheek. “And it’s not barging in when you bring one of your pies.” Tilly’s cheeks pinked up and a smile spread across her face.
“If I were just a few decades younger…”
“What’s the occasion?” I asked, joining them.
“Merlin has chosen a name for his familiar and wishes to commemorate the day.”
“As good a reason as I’ve ever heard.” Travis hunkered down to introduce himself to the marmot, who sat up on her hindquarters and sniffed his hand.
Sashki picked his way down the couch to the floor, stopping a few yards away from the interloper to assess the situation. The marmot sidled closer to him, but Sashki stood his ground. I was poised to scoop him up if things turned dicey. The marmot leaned slowly toward him, until their noses touched and they both jumped backward. “They will be fine,” Merlin declared, “let us commence!”
We trooped off to the kitchen, the two new friends side by side. “I think romance is in the air,” Travis whispered to me.
“But apparently not for us,” I whispered back.
He squeezed my hand. “We’ll make quick work of the pie and send them packing.”
Tilly took a beautiful cherry pie out of the carrier, while I set out paper plates, utensils and a carton of vanilla ice cream that I kept on hand for unexpected pies. We all took seats around the table and waited for Merlin to announce his familiar’s name.
He rose, a frown pinching the bridge of his nose. “There is a disappointing lack of fanfare,” he said with a sigh.
Travis sprang out of his seat. “I know just how to fix that.” He pulled open the cabinet where I kept my pots and hauled out two large ones. He found two big serving spoons in a drawer and gave Tilly and me each a pot and a spoon. “Give the man his fanfare,” he said taking his seat.
What resulted was closer to an ear splitting cacophony than medieval fanfare, but since we had no trumpets it was the best we could do. Merlin got into the spirit and plucked his marmot off the floor. “I hereby name you Froliquet, my familiar till the end of time—or the end of us.” We all applauded and Froliquet chattered her teeth as if she understood what a big deal she was. Tilly served up huge quadrants of pie topped off with snowball-sized scoops of ice cream and we gamely made our way through most of it.
Trudy called as Travis and I were cleaning up from the naming celebration. She said she’d be happy to talk to me about the ghost, but she sounded like she’d be happier going for a root canal or two. I wondered what Beverly was holding over her head.
According to Trudy, both of her parents worked, so she was home all day with her son, Jackson. I could come to see her the next morning at ten, during his nap. The time could not have been more convenient, since Travis would be able to accompany me.
We were at her door at ten on the dot. Trudy let us into the small foyer. Greetings were awkward. She and I weren’t cheek kissing friends, but I leaned in for a friendly hug at the same time she reached out to shake my hand. We laughed uncomfortably. I was glad to have Travis there to introduce.
Trudy brought us into the living room, where Travis and I settled on the couch. She took a chair across from us. “I’m glad you were available during the day, because nights are difficult for me.” When we didn’t ask why, she went on to tell us anyway. “I’m taking courses at night to become a paralegal. Once I get a job, I’ll hire a sitter or put Jackson in daycare.”
I think she wanted me to know that she wasn’t a failure, that she hadn’t come home to freeload off her parents. She was in the process of remaking herself into a strong single mom. I smiled. “Sounds like you have it all together. Your little boy is lucky to have you for a mom.” If I was overdoing the praise, she didn’t seem to mind. I was sorry to complicate her life by dragging her into the investigation, but she’d seen the ghost and that meant we had to talk to her. “Trudy,” I continued, “were you at the lake the night Scott drowned?”
“Wait, I thought you wanted to talk to me about seeing Scott’s ghost recently, not about what happened ten years ago.” Her eyes flitted from me to Travis and back to me.
“That’s correct,” he said in his deep newscaster voice that could assure you he personally had every crisis under control. “However we have reason to believe that the ghost sightings and Genna’s death may all be connected to what happened back then.”
“Tony Russo was run down and nearly killed the other night,” I added to impress her with how serious things were.
Trudy was blinking fast. I could almost see the wheels spinning in her head as she put things together. “Tony was at the lake that night too. Am I in danger?” A roundabout admission, but at least we had the answer.
“We don’t know,” I said, “but the sooner we figure out who’s behind these attacks, the sooner everyone can rest easier. Do you recall if there were any arguments or disagreements at the lake?”
“I just remember the guys goading each other to do stupid stuff the way guys always do—trying to be all macho.”
“Like what?” Travis asked.
She thought about it for a while, longer than she should have if she actually recalled something. I was starting to wonder if we could trust her answer. Travis glanced at me with the same concern in his eyes. “They dared each other to eat some of the plants at the edge of the lake and in the water,” she said finally.
Plants were my domain, I had a degree in botany. Most of the plants at the lake weren’t toxic, but eat enough of the wrong ones and they could get you pretty sick. “Did anyone throw up after eating them?”
“I don’t think so,” Trudy said. “Mostly they just made faces, gagged and spat them out. But even if they had thrown up, it could have been from the booze.”
“Did Scott go into the water by himself?” I asked.
“I don’t know, it wasn’t like I was being paid to watch him,” she said, attitude building in her tone. “We were laughing and silly and probably too drunk to think straight. Nobody jumped up and said, Wait, that could be dangerous. Death was the furthest thing from our minds.”
She had a point. Travis and I were looking at that night from a narrow angle, focused solely on Scott’s drowning. But until he disappeared under the water, they were just kids on the brink of adulthood partying hardy.
“Thanks for putting things into perspective,” I said. I’d learned that agreeing with a testy witness could take the fight right out of them. “Who was the first to notice Scott had been gone for too long?”
“I’m not sure,” Trudy said, “but we all ran down to the water, cal
ling for him. When he didn’t respond, a few of the guys went in to try to find him. But it’s a deep lake and it was dark. Someone called 911. It got scary fast. I remember thinking, ‘This can’t be happening. He’s going to pop out of the water any second, laughing at us.’”
Tears filled her eyes. She blinked them back. “Divers found him the next day. Some of the kids went back there to watch, pay their respects. I didn’t want to see Scott that way. I knew it would stay in my head forever.” She’d crossed her arms, holding herself. “I guess that makes me a coward.”
I wanted to reach out and put my hand on her arm to comfort her, but I was sitting too far away. “Everyone has a different threshold for things like that. There’s nothing wrong with accepting your limits.” Trudy nodded, looking down at her sandals.
“Nothing could have changed the outcome at that point,” Travis added. We were quiet, waiting for her to collect herself. She scrubbed the tears from her cheeks and looked up.
“Do you think Genna was killed as payback for Scott’s death? Did she do something to cause it? Did Tony?” There was desperation in her tone. She wanted to believe she had no reason to fear a similar fate.
“We don’t know yet,” I said. “But vengeance seems like the best explanation when you consider that the people being targeted were at the lake that night.”
“We’d like to hear about your sighting of Scott’s ghost,” Travis said.
A tremor shook Trudy. “It was the freakiest thing that’s ever happened to me. The first time, I’d just gotten Jackson to sleep. I went over to the window to pull down the shade so the sun wouldn’t wake him too early. Scott was standing in the flower bed looking in.”
“Did he run away or did he vanish?” It was an important distinction.
“I don’t know. I screamed and grabbed my son out of his crib. I wouldn’t go back in there. My parents helped me set up his stuff in my room. I realize it makes no sense. That ghost thing could look into the other windows too, but I needed my baby with me. My folks didn’t say anything, but I could tell they thought I’d gone over the edge. You probably think I’m nuts too.”