by Carly Winter
“For a second I thought you were smoking weed,” he said with a chuckle. “That’s illegal here in Arizona. At least for the time being.”
“I’m aware of that, and I don’t smoke,” I said through gritted teeth. It had become apparent that anytime Ruby was close to someone, they thought they smelled pot.
Adam grinned again and continued up the stairs.
“What did you find out?” I whispered as Ruby sat down next to me.
“I'm not sure. Bruce is really interested in the foam around his mouth and was studying the cup next to his bed. I think it said something about smoothies.”
“Darla said he checked in while sipping a smoothie from Sarah's Sensational Smoothies.”
“I wasn't around much when he came in,” Ruby replied. “I only caught bits and pieces and I wasn't paying attention to what was said.”
If she wasn't in the house, where did she go?
The sheriff descended the stairs, so the question would have to wait. “I called the EMT to have the body taken to the coroner,” he said. “They should be here pretty soon.”
I nodded and tried to smile.
He leaned against the mantle and crossed his arms over his chest. “It's my understanding you're Ruby's granddaughter. Is that right?”
“Correct,” I replied, shifting in my seat as Ruby began to cackle. Her reputation had always preceded her, and everyone knew her. She loved being the bad girl in life, and I’m sure it tickled her to have the sheriff still recalling memories of her, three years after her death. If you hadn’t at least heard of her, you had to have been locked away in a basement, or at the very least, didn’t get out much.
“I knew her well,” he said. “She was a good woman. I was sorry when she died.”
“Oh, shut up, you old turd,” Ruby scoffed. “You were praising the day I met my maker. I was too much woman for you.”
“Thank you,” I replied rather loudly while I tried to talk over the ghost of my grandmother. “I appreciate you saying that.”
“Why are you talking so loud?” the sheriff asked. “Are you hard of hearing?”
“No. Yes. Sometimes? I-I don’t know.”
Ruby continued to laugh, but now I was sure it was directed at me.
“You don't know if you're hard of hearing?” Walker asked.
I shut my eyes and leaned back against the couch, doing my best to ignore the old ghost next to me. “I'm sorry. I'm very tired. I just flew in from my cousin’s wedding.”
“And how was that?” Walker asked.
Frankly, I didn't have the energy to go into all the details. “It was fine,” I lied. It seemed falsehoods came easier and easier by the moment.
Adam came down the stairs as two EMTs wheeled in a gurney. He motioned for them to follow him.
“We're going to have to seal that room off for a day or two, Ms. Maxwell,” the sheriff said. “It's a crime scene.”
Ruby and I exchanged glances and she furrowed her brow. “What the heck does that mean?”
“Yes,” I said. “What does that mean?”
Walker stared at me a moment, as if he were unsure whether all my marbles were lined up nicely. He didn't need to know I’d pondered the same question for most of the day.
“Well, it looks like Mr. Gonzalez was murdered,” Walker said. “Most likely poisoned.”
My breath caught as I stared at him. Someone had been murdered in my house? By whom?
“Who did it?” Ruby and I asked, in unison.
“Well, we don't know that yet, but for the sake of the investigation, I'd advise you not to wander too far out of town.”
Chapter 4
“When did you say was the last time you saw him?” Sheriff Walker asked as they wheeled the body outside. Adam followed them and shut the door behind him.
I stared at the closed door, unable to believe the turn my life had just taken.
Ruby said, “You better say something, Bernie, or he's going to put some cuffs on you, and it won't be for a good time, either.”
“I-I guess about an hour ago?” I replied, realizing a killer had been in my house. Had I locked the front door when I came home?
“You're sure about that?” Walker asked.
“Y-yes.”
The sheriff narrowed his gaze on me. “I'm no expert, but I'd say he's been dead for a few hours, not one.”
Great. I'd lied and made this situation so much worse. I shouldn't have listened to Ruby. “It may have been longer than an hour when he came and asked me to wake him,” I said. “You know how time flies.”
“Actually, I don't. Especially when I'm investigating a murder. Every minute counts.”
The room became really warm once again and the walls seemed to be closing in around me. “Would you like some water?” I asked, my voice coming out a little squeaky. “I could use some.”
“You're so uptight right now, I'd suggest a shot of tequila,” Ruby said.
“No thanks,” Walker said. “Why don't you fetch some water and come back in here so we can continue our conversation?”
“Of course,” I mumbled as I rose from the couch. I motioned for Ruby to follow me and I didn't meet the sheriff's gaze as I marched into the kitchen.
While I pulled a glass from the cabinet and filled it, Ruby appeared next to me. I startled and dropped it into the sink with a crash. Shards of glass scattered all across the basin.
“Everything okay in there?” Walker called.
“Yes! I'm just a little clumsy!” I yelled, then turned to Ruby. “Don't sneak up on me like that!”
“I didn't, Bernie. You're wound tighter than a girdle at a pancake breakfast. You need to relax!”
“I lied to the police and he's caught me in that lie,” I hissed. “There's a murder investigation going on, in case you missed that part.” Tears welled in my eyes. “Oh, my word. I've lied during a murder investigation.”
Ruby waved her hand in front of her face. “Not a big deal. I'm sure it happens all the time.”
I shook my head and retrieved another glass. After filling it, I downed the liquid in one long gulp. My hands shook and my breathing came in short spurts.
“Seriously, Bernie. You need to calm down. You're going to give yourself an ulcer.”
“This is what I do when I'm stressed, or worried, or being confronted by an officer of the law during a murder investigation. I panic.”
“Well, panicking isn't going to do anything for you except give you wrinkles. Get another glass of water, take some deep breaths, and come back out to the living room.”
I stood at the sink and did as I was told, feeling mildly better. Returning to the living room, I grinned at the sheriff as I sat down.
“Getting back to our conversation, you sure you talked to him an hour ago, or do you want to amend your statement?”
My thoughts flew to the day's events. Mr. Gonzalez was already checked in when I arrived home. Darla had done the honors. We chatted for a bit then I cleaned the rooms, met Ruby, and took a nap.
No one had been in my house except me... well, that I was aware of, anyway. Oh, heck—was I now a suspect?
“It may have been earlier today,” I said. “I've been so busy trying to catch up from my trip. I honestly wasn't watching the clock all that well.”
The sheriff stared at me for a long moment, and I tried not to wilt under his gaze. Finally, he said, “Okay. I'll be in touch soon. And remember, don't go into the room until we clear it.”
“How long will that be?”
“Maybe a couple of days.”
I nodded and walked him to the front door. “Thanks for coming,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
He waved over his shoulder as he strode down the walkway. I shut the door, locked it, turned around, and sank to the floor, placing my forehead on my knees.
I had to order my thoughts. The sheriff obviously believed something hinky had happened because my story had changed. Then there was the fact that I was the only one in the house most o
f the day, which cast suspicion on me as the murderer.
“Get up and let's have a dance party for old times’ sake!” Ruby said cheerfully, twirling in a circle in front of me.
“I don't want to dance,” I grumbled, standing. “I might be in big trouble here!”
Ruby rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why on earth do you think that?”
“Because I was the only one here today!” I yelled. “What if they think I killed him?”
“What if they do? Don't they need little minor details called evidence? There isn't any.”
Evidence. In the crime shows, they looked for things like murder weapons and fingerprints. I'd touched the doorknob, so fingerprints there. Inside the room, they'd probably find a couple of mine, and definitely others. I cleaned fanatically but was it enough to actually erase fingerprints? I had no idea.
Since the sheriff had said he thought Mr. Gonzalez had been poisoned, I wondered what type had been used. My knowledge of poisons was limited, except the obvious things like don't eat laundry detergent or drink Draino. Did I have whatever had been used hanging around my house? Wouldn't someone taste it if they drank lighter fluid or insect killer and immediately spit it out?
I ran to my cleaning supply closet and threw open the doors. Pulling out one canister after the other, I read the warning labels. Gosh dang it. I had at least a dozen bottles labeled as poison.
“What are you looking for?” Ruby asked from behind me.
And a ghost. I had a ghost as well.
I shut the door and sighed. “I was seeing what I had that could poison someone.”
“And?”
“There's a lot.”
I returned to the living room and plopped down on the couch. Ruby appeared next to me. Poor Mr. Gonzalez. I'd never spoken to the man, but guilt wracked my insides. He'd died in my house.
“You know, he could have committed suicide as well,” Ruby said. “Maybe it's not murder at all. Perhaps he sucked down a bottle of bleach.”
A knock sounded at the front door and I glanced over at it, debating whether to answer or not. For all I knew, the sheriff had come to drag me to prison.
“You better see who it is,” Ruby said. “It could be your guests who made reservations earlier. Remember?”
Right.
The last thing I wanted to do was smile and pretend I was happy to see total strangers. What if they ended up dead as well?
What if a ghost was responsible for killing Mr. Gonzalez? She and I had been the only ones in the house during the murder, and I certainly hadn’t kill the man.
I turned to Ruby and realized I knew next to nothing about her... current state. What was she capable of? Disappearing into thin air - check. Ghosting through walls and people - check. Murder? Hmm...
My grandmother, while alive, may have been a wild child until the day she died, but she'd never intentionally hurt someone. Or did something short-circuit in her brain when she passed that turned her into a killer? Maybe it was a deep-seated fantasy of hers that she now fulfilled in death, where she couldn't get caught and no one would suspect her?
The knock sounded again. “You and I need to have a talk after these people check in,” I muttered. Unbelievable. I thought chatting with a ghost was no longer a big deal.
“Can't wait!” Ruby called as I walked to the door.
“Welcome!” I said as I opened the panel and was met with a couple pulling suitcases behind them instead of the sheriff dangling handcuffs from his fingers. “My name's Bernadette, but please, call me Bernie.”
“We're the Thompsons,” the man said, holding his hand out. “I’m Bob, and she’s Bobbie. We're so glad to be here!”
The cuteness turned my stomach, but I laid my palm in his for a brief moment, then motioned for them to follow me inside. When I'd first opened the B&B, I'd set up a little check-in desk in the corner and it functioned well. It didn't take away from the beauty of the room, but I had a central place to store keys, the credit card machine, and brochures belonging to the other businesses in town.
I pegged my customers in their early thirties, maybe late twenties. They seemed nice enough.
I glanced over at Ruby as I got the Thompsons checked in. She had sprawled out on the couch with her arm thrown over her forehead as if my guests bored her to tears.
The Thompsons, however, oohed and aahed over the living room. I had to admit, it was stunning with the high ceilings, ornate wood molding, and large fireplace.
“Is this place really haunted?” Bobbie asked.
Before, I would have smiled and nodded conspiratorially, but not today as I watched Ruby float up from the couch and walk toward us with her hands stretched out in front of her like a zombie while she moaned and groaned. When she got right behind my guests, she shouted, “Boo!”
“Different people have different experiences,” I said.
“We're hoping we see a ghost,” Bob said. “We love stuff like that.”
“Well, with any luck, you will,” I replied as Ruby turned in a circle, waving her hands above her head while making “ooooh” noises. Unfortunately, she didn't resemble scary in the least bit.
“Let's get you up to your room,” I said, pursing my lips together so I didn't laugh. My grandmother may be the worst haunter I'd ever witnessed. Not that I'd ever seen a ghost before. But if other ghosts were as bad at their jobs as she was, the scariness of the paranormal world had been highly overrated.
I led them up the stairs and cringed when I noted the yellow police tape on the door to my right. It went right across from one doorjamb to the other and read Police: do not enter. I noted they’d also placed a strip directly on the door itself. In order to get into the room, I’d have to break the seal, and they’d know I’d entered.
“What happened there?” Bob asked as I stuck my key into the door to their room.
“Nothing,” I said, smiling. “I'm having some work done in there and it's not safe. I just want to make sure my guests avoid the room.”
Bobbie laughed. “For a second I thought it was a murder scene or something like that!”
I chuckled right along with her. “Nothing that exciting, I'm afraid.” I handed the key to her and motioned for them to enter. I convinced myself I hadn't lied. The sheriff had said he thought Gonzalez had been poisoned, but he couldn't rule it a murder just yet. “Breakfast will be tomorrow at eight. For dinner, I highly recommend Darling's Diner, and if you're interested in seeing Sedona and the surrounding area, Jumping Jack's Jeep Tours is the way to go.”
“Oh! I wanted to do that!” Bobbie exclaimed.
“You'll find a brochure in your room so you can make your reservations,” I said, pointing to the desk next to the bed.
“Thanks,” Bob said. “We'll drop our bags and head out in a bit. We're actually renting bikes for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Have a great time!”
“You forgot about sunset yoga,” Ruby said, materializing behind them.
I nodded and walked down the hallway, not possessing the frame of mind for yoga. Stress and being a potential murder suspect didn't gel with Cobra or Warrior pose, although, it was probably exactly what I should be doing to lower my anxiety.
“They're going to be busy, and so am I,” I muttered as I hurried downstairs with Ruby trailing me. “Get into my room now, please.”
My ghost and I were going to have a long chat. I'd find out exactly why she was here and what she could do to help me get out of my current predicament.
Chapter 5
I shut the door to my bedroom—which used to be Ruby's—and turned around, expecting to see her lounging on the bed. Instead, the room was empty. With a huff, I sat in the rocking chair and waited for her to make an appearance.
Two minutes later, she floated through the door as if she didn't have a care in the world... or a granddaughter on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “You took your time,” I said. “We may not have a lot of it to waste.”
“Oh,
my gosh. Please quit with the dramatics.”
“A man died in this house today, and the sheriff thinks it might be murder.”
“And it might be suicide,” Ruby said as she lay down across the foot of the bed. “Start worrying about things when you have something to worry about, Bernie.”
“No. I want to be prepared. I could go to prison! I was the only one in the house all day!”
“That's not true. That boring girl, Darla, was here. She could have offed him.”
“Darla isn't a killer,” I replied. “She doesn't have a mean bone in her body.”
Ruby muttered something about Darla sucking the fun out of every room and could therefore suck the soul out of a living human, but I didn't ask for clarification. Talk about dramatics.
She sighed and stared at me, obviously not sharing my near hysteria. “So what's this powwow about?”
I took a deep breath and tried to arrange my thoughts into some type of order, but it was futile. There were so many unanswered questions having to do not only with the dead guy, but with Ruby and me. I decided to start from square one. “Why are you here?”
Ruby's brow furrowed in confusion. “Because you asked me into the room!”
“No. That's not what I meant. You died three years ago. Why are you here? Why haven't you... moved on? Gone to heaven? Or is haunting your own house as good as it gets?”
“Ah, I see. To answer your question, I don't know. One minute I'm in bed with the handyman and I'd just gotten up to put on my mumu and I lit a Mary Jane. The next minute, I'm floating toward a blinding light brighter than the sun. The whole experience was pretty shocking, so I didn't really hear what was being said to me, but then I was sucked back into the house and the handyman was about to have a nervous breakdown. I quickly realized no one could see me and I'd kicked the bucket. The ambulance showed up, along with that cute EMT that tried to revive me... oh, man, what a mess. That's the short version. That EMT tried to slip me the tongue, though.”
“He did not!” I yelled. “You were dead, and that's just gross! Can we please keep this conversation on track?”
“Shh,” Ruby said with a giggle. “They'll hear you upstairs. And I'm kidding about the EMT. I wish he had, though, because he was really a looker. Hotter than even James Dean.”