Murder Lifts the Spirits

by Margaret C. Morse

  He introduced her to me. Adrian kept her gaze on Hailey's every move.

  Hailey pulled a phone out of a leather purse. "I have your file right here, Petra." She frowned at the screen. Mascara and liner defined her violet eyes. Fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes showed through heavy foundation makeup. She smiled at me. "I can help with your potential healing talent." Hailey had a deep voice that she projected with the skill of a trained actress.

  I mumbled some response, relieved when Hailey led Adrian away for "a quick catch-up." I knew I'd eventually have to deal with the healing-powers issue, but right now I'd concentrate on Cullen's murder.

  Jake adjusted Raggedy Andy into a seated position. The doll's head flopped forward. "By the way, Ira is heading out to see if Cullen will react on a second visit. If you're looking for him."

  "I don't always have to be with Ira," I snapped.

  "Have you quarreled? Romances that start in therapy can be rocky."

  I tapped the doll's limp head. Be firm. It caught on fire. Jake quenched it with his palm. His fire familiar somehow let him fight fire.

  "I'm feeling self-conscious about my relationship with him." I stuffed the doll into a drawer. Its charred head annoyed me. "Adrian accused me of spending too much time with Ira and not getting to know the other residents. Could she be right?"

  "What do you think about it?"

  "Okay, I probably should mingle more with other residents, but if I want to spend some time with Ira, I will. I meant to ask—do you have some supervision of interactions with the mask besides the security camera in the backyard?"

  "I can't spare staff, so I persuaded Loki to keep watch. He has the same power as me to do protective spells. We gave him a voice-activated phone to call for help."

  I tried to imagine life without quotes from Loki. "He hasn't left my room in the two months he's been with me. Why did he decide to come out?"

  "Maybe being with you inspired him to take a new step. He was intrigued to observe a resident who returned as a ghost. He has, over the years, occasionally mixed with the residents when something piques his interest."

  Loki had been a presence in my life for two months. "I'll kind of miss him and his pithy quotes. So much change lately. Hey, did the Board insist you take on Hailey for public relations?"

  Jake's face tightened. The strong line of his cheekbones stood out. "I'm a suspect in Cullen's death. I told you I need backup leadership. That's why Hailey's joining us."

  I remembered his request that I keep him updated on what was going on with the residents. "I don't know if Wyatt has had a chance to tell you yet, but just now Trevor created a mini scene with Adrian. He acted quite paranoid. I don't know him that well. What can you tell me about him without violating confidentiality?"

  Jake looked away. "Trevor needs so much."

  "What do you mean? Drugs? Counseling? Hugs?"

  "He's never forgiven himself for killing his brother. That's all I can tell you."

  I gaped at Jake, shocked that Trevor had such a major trauma in his background. That terrible event must haunt him. He'd only been at the ranch a few weeks and hadn't trained with me, but I felt bad that I hadn't asked about his story. More immediately, since he'd killed before, I needed to find out if he had any motive to harm Cullen.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Ira stood opposite the mask on the spot marked X. Leaves rustled in the wind. The chimes hanging from the patio roof tingled. Late afternoon shadows spread over the fenced-in yard. Loki perched on top of the fence above the mask, which now had closed eyes.

  Ira blurted out, "The eyes shut just a second ago while I was watching the mask. It felt like someone left me."

  I stroked his chest. "Did you say anything before he closed his eyes?"

  Ira frowned. The closed eyes of the mask seemed to bother him. "No, I wanted to observe him without making demands."

  "To see what I have seen," Loki commented.

  "Okay, I can understand how you were unsettled." I hugged him. "I agree when the mask has its eyes closed it feels like Cullen has withdrawn from us. Don't worry that you did something wrong. Wyatt pointed out that Cullen is new at inhabiting the mask, and he may fade in and out without regard to what we're doing."

  Ira rested his lips on my hair. "After so many stints in therapy, I should know better than to project my feelings onto others. We have no idea what Cullen is thinking."

  "Right. Let's stick around and just watch."

  We settled on a bench on the patio where I made a little bouquet of Mexican lavender. I soon grew restless, aware I wasn't making any progress in finding Cullen's killer.

  Adrian strode outside and faced the mask. Good, a potential suspect. She took one look at Cullen and whirled. "Why are his eyes closed?" She fixed on me. "What did you do?"

  Ira moved into the yard closer to her "No, it was me. The mask closed its eyes when I was in front of it. There could be a simple explanation—Cullen is a novice ghost who can't maintain his presence."

  "I want him to help us discover who murdered him." Adrian sank onto the bench by the back fence.

  Ira sat next to her. "You're stressing yourself out by expecting Cullen to share your goals. His thinking may be very muddled right now."

  "Has Cullen deserted the mask?" Adrian gazed at Ira with sad-dog eyes. "Why do so many dead people not return as ghosts? How can we keep Cullen with us?"

  "We're all confused by what's happening." Ira's voice softened.

  I moved up to them. The last time I saw Cullen, blood was pouring out of his chest. As I recalled that awful evening, an orange glow formed into peaks like flames around the mask, and the eyes opened.

  "I didn't cause that," I protested. "I'm too far away."

  Adrian held her hands out to the mask. "Cullen, we're here for you."

  Trevor strolled onto the patio, braking when he saw Adrian. The orange glow brightened. "Another manifestation?" He invested the two words with disbelief and sarcasm.

  The orange light flickered into a pink shimmer. Trevor confronted Adrian. "You did this. You're animating the mask to target me."

  Adrian stepped back from him. "Don't be so paranoid. You hate everybody, so you think we all hate you. That's no way to live. Come to a REM meeting, and free yourself from hate."

  I was so surprised she hadn't lashed out at Trevor that I tapped her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

  "Cullen's back. That's all I wanted," Adrian insisted.

  Ira tilted his head at Trevor. "Hey, gotta talk to you."

  They spoke softly on the patio, heads close, glancing back at us. At one point Trevor rolled his eyes. I appreciated Ira for distracting Trevor. I needed a break from his intensity.

  Linc crossed the patio and approached Adrian and me. "I've been observing from just inside the house. I have a proposal. Instead of indulging in emotional outbursts, we should inform Cullen of specific facts, such as his date of birth, education, or particular shared memories. I theorize that will prompt him to focus and organize his thoughts."

  Adrian chewed her lower lip as she considered his idea. "That might be information overload. You should run your proposal by staff."

  Linc strode over to the X. "Jake said we could make brief comments to the mask. That's what I'm going to do."

  Adrian dashed over to stand in front of Linc. "But you might dump too much information on him. Over and above a guard like Loki, Cullen needs a guardian to watch out for his interests until he can express himself. Come back later while I get something set up."

  Linc scowled. "Loki is here to protect him, but I'm not going to waste time arguing with someone as pigheaded as you." He walked away slowly, not being one for a dramatic exit.

  Adrian glared at Ira and Trevor, who'd broken up their huddle to watch the scene. She tugged at my sleeve. "Petra, come on. You and I need a private talk."

  She stopped when we were in the middle of the yard. "You told me about that kid you were the guardian for in juvenile court. You can act as Cullen's gu
ardian until we find somebody else."

  I stared at her. "What? I can't believe you want me to be Cullen's guardian. Why would you want me as his lawyer if you think I killed him?"

  She bit her upper lip. "I've had time to cool off."

  "Really?" The rag doll event may have caused her to reevaluate her opinion of me. I continued, "But you just snapped at me about the mask's eyes closing."

  "Okay," she admitted, "I do have a hot temper. Still, I'm looking into whether others had reasons to harm Cullen. I haven't found any motive for you to kill him. You're still on my list, but you'll soon have company." Adrian stretched her hand out to the mask. "Once Cullen has stabilized in the mask, he can say if he wants you as his lawyer. That would mean he doesn't think you did it. I want to believe he can help us find out who his killer is."

  "It's not like he faced his murderer," I pointed out.

  "True, but he can tell us who had it in for him." She turned to the mask. "He did react when certain people appeared before him—Jake, Trevor, you, now Ira."

  "Ira?" I didn't like her bringing in his name. "It may be pure coincidence that the mask closed its eyes when Ira stood in front of it. The same goes for the others. What the mask does is intriguing. It's not evidence. We're assuming Cullen can see us and formulate a response, but we don't know for sure."

  "I don't know about evidence. I just know if I came back as a ghost, I'd say what I thought. You're the lawyer." She tapped me on the chest. "You're the one to get the evidence. You can show your innocence by looking for the killer."

  It seemed pointless to argue with her fixed conviction that Cullen as a ghost acted as some kind of crime detector. I looked back at Ira and Trevor, who had drifted closer to us. I heard enough words—touchdown, total yards, defense—to realize that in response to the death and turmoil around us, they had retreated to a passionate discussion of football. They studied Ira's phone, which he held between them.

  I refocused on Adrian. "Now you want me to be Cullen's guardian and to investigate his case? I don't get how you can trust me to follow up leads." Of course I wanted to find the killer. I also wanted to understand Adrian's attitude toward me.

  "Don't get stuck in being a victim because you're a suspect. I'm giving you a chance to help show you didn't hurt Cullen." She squared her shoulders. "Anyway, I'll keep my eye on you."

  "Cullen didn't react to everyone who might be a suspect. I know a couple of people who the police might target, but the mask had no reaction to them." Like Linc and Dawn.

  "Cullen will be more efficient as he gets better at being a ghost." Her eyes bored into me. "I can tell you about everybody. I've kept track of what's going on around here while you were mooning around with Ira. Since Cullen closed his eyes in response to Ira, I'm putting Ira on my suspect list."

  Now I'd have an erratic Watson blundering around after me. I moved over to the X to break off her insistent regard. Her mention of Ira as a possible suspect irritated me. I had to make sure she didn't have any real reason to suspect him other than the eye shutting. "Okay, since you know all about everybody, isn't it true that Ira had no reason to harm Cullen?"

  Adrian glanced at Ira and Trevor, who were back on the patio. "Do you really know Ira?"

  "Does anybody ever really know the inner core of another person?"

  "How do you think Ira got all those scars?"

  "Barroom fights. And he cut on himself when he was a kid." So had I, but I wasn't about to confide in Adrian. "He's very open about his past. Do you know anything specific, or are you just going to ask a bunch of provocative questions?" Like a lawyer.

  "He could have been angry at the way Cullen treated Vidoc," Adrian answered.

  Vidoc was gay. Cullen had refused to label his sexual preferences. He flirted with both men and women, so he may have hit on Vidoc. I wasn't about to admit to Adrian that I didn't know of any Vidoc-Cullen issues. "Ira and Vidoc are friends. Ira wouldn't kill to settle a friend's relationship problems."

  She raised her brows at me. "What if Ira was jealous over you meeting with Cullen?"

  "That's ridiculous. Ira would be pretty busy if he killed every guy I talked to. You're making me crazy. One minute you're appointing me as Cullen's guardian and trusting me to look for his murderer. Now you're attacking me."

  "I'm not attacking you. I'm trying to get you to see beyond your narrow vision, your little rosy world." She paused and eyed Ira and Trevor. "Go talk to Ira. I can tell you want to."

  I walked out, beckoning to Ira to follow me. He'd had enough time for football talk.

  * * *

  I arrived in my room ahead of Ira, who'd stopped to charge his phone. The whole day had been frustrating and confusing. I'd been excluded from the grief ceremony only to find the murder victim making his first appearance as a ghost on my desk. Until the mystery of his death was solved, none of us at the ranch would feel safe.

  I tapped my forehead against the cinder brick wall to stimulate thought. Gently, to avoid a mark requiring explanations. Blaze tugged at my hair, a sharper pain.

  "Thanks," I said.

  "What?" Ira's voice sounded behind me. "Why are you thanking Blaze for pulling your hair?"

  "He's helping me to think clearly." Blaze slipped onto his tattoo. He was obeying my standing order to give Ira and me privacy.

  Ira put his arms around me and pulled me away from the wall. "It's been a long day. Relax, and don't try so hard to think. Your mind will organize itself."

  I turned to face him. Since Cullen's death, we hadn't spent time alone together. I ran my fingers from his shoulders to his hands, shutting my eyes to focus on the feel of his skin. The smooth warmth made me want more, and I pressed myself against him. As he stroked my back, piano music tinkled in my head. Sending music rather than words was Ira's special talent in mental communication.

  Arms around each other, we found the rhythm in the music and danced, taking slow steps around the room. Moving in unison made me feel like we'd escaped to our own secret world. When we reached the ledge bed, Ira guided me to sit down next to him. I opened my eyes, and we smiled.

  "I needed that." I clasped his hand, wanting to stay connected.

  Bing came from the speaker in the ceiling light fixture. "Residents, dinner will be in ten minutes."

  He kissed my knuckles, but the romantic mood had broken. "I wondered if you were okay. It looked like Adrian was hassling you."

  "Actually—" I paused to consider my volatile relationship with Adrian. "We're doing somewhat better. She's got me on her list but agrees others are possible suspects. She even put you on her list because the mask closed its eyes while you were watching it."

  Ira chuckled. "That's fine. I have nothing to worry about. Cullen and I got along well after I set some boundaries with him."

  I wished I could dismiss Adrian's suspicions of me so easily. "She has her sights on Vidoc too."

  Ira looked indignant. "Vidoc? No way. He's the gentlest soul I know. He wouldn't get involved with a resident. He has a relationship with someone I introduced him to months ago."

  Men. He'd never told me Vidoc had a significant other. "Then there's Adrian herself who has anger-management issues, or Trevor who has violence in his past."

  "Trevor, no, he's too nervous to plan anything. I got him talking football to get him outside of himself. As for Adrian, she is a wild card."

  "No kidding. She wants me to be Cullen's guardian and find his killer, all the while she's still keeping me on the suspect list."

  Ira put his arm around me. "Investigating Cullen's death is dangerous. I'll go along as your backup."

  It was sweet that he wanted to be my Watson. "Thanks, but it would be more efficient if we checked out leads separately." I sighed. It would've been fun to go around together. "We can meet at the end of the day and analyze our results. Of course I know what I'm doing is dangerous, but what's the alternative? Do nothing and wait for this killer to strike again? Anyway, it's not like we're doing formal interrogations. It's na
tural for us to gossip about Cullen's death. We'll just be talking to people."

  He studied the snake tattoo on his forearm, its lines concealing the scars from when he cut on himself as a teenager. I had similar scars on my inner thighs. Ira explained his self-mutilation by his parents' bitter divorce, and I related mine to insecurity from not knowing my real parents. In spite of my rational explanation, I felt embarrassed about my self-cutting.

  Ira's tattoo acted as more than a cover-up for scars. When Niko emerged, he sparkled with a rainbow of colors that inspired Ira in his designs for the circus. Ira's forefinger traced Niko's swirling lines. "I have this theory that if you talk to someone long enough, they'll reveal their real thoughts. You can't lie forever."

  As a criminal defense lawyer, I'd known some pretty determined liars. "Your theory works if the listener is smart enough to pick up clues, which of course we are. I don't plan on us just gossiping about Cullen. We need to figure out some scheme to get the killer to reveal him- or herself. Let's work on that plan too—deal?"

  We kissed. I looked forward to this project. Usually, after hours of treatment sessions at the ranch, Ira and I cuddled and chatted about our days. Now we'd be partners in crime detection. How romantic.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Thursday

  At the start of the morning's first training session, Vidoc informed us of the revised plan for Cullen interactions. If we wanted to talk with him, we needed to schedule our meeting on a sign-up sheet. We should only appear in the backyard during our designated time. Staff wanted to see if Cullen responded better to longer sessions with just one person. I signed up for a late afternoon slot so I'd have time to plan what to say.

  In the middle of the afternoon sessions, staff sent Dawn and me to the break-it room. They'd been directing pairs of residents to the room all day "to process the stress of Cullen's death." As soon as we entered the gleaming white room, Dawn grabbed a baseball bat and beat on the punching bag. Usually she preferred breaking plates. After a mighty whack from Dawn, the bag careened widely then swung back so hard it almost hit her. She flung the bat aside and pounded on the canvas material with her fists.