The Guest is a Goner

by Carly Winter

  “Why do you ask where I was?”

  “What if someone marched in here and killed him? I was wondering why you didn't see them.”

  Footsteps sounded down the stairs and I turned to find the Thompsons. Both had their suitcases, and frankly, I was happy to see them leaving, even if it was one day early. I wouldn't want to be caught up in my life if I were them, and I'd also developed some serious trust issues because of their blatant lies to the police. The more distance they put between my house and their car, the happier I'd be.

  “Oh, look. Liar One and Liar Two,” Ruby said. “There's something rotten in the state of Denmark.”

  I glanced over at her, surprised by her Hamlet quote. Usually, she parroted Lynyrd Skynyrd or the Grateful Dead.

  “W-we've decided we don't feel safe here,” Bobbie said, smiling nervously. “We’re going to leave town.”

  “I understand,” I said. “I wish you safe travels.”

  The three of us stared at each other a minute, and I wasn't sure what they expected from me. A refund? A hug?

  “We like you, Bernie,” Bob said. “I'm not sure what you've gotten yourself into, but we hope you're careful.”

  “Yes,” Bobbie agreed. “It would be a shame to see anything happen to you.”

  Chills ran over my skin and down my spine as they turned and headed for the front door. Had they wished me well, or had their words been a veiled threat?

  “Oh, man, am I glad they're gone,” Ruby said. “I hate liars.”

  “Me, too,” I whispered. I particularly hated liars who threatened me, and I ran my palms over my arms to calm the chill. Then I hurried over and locked the front door.

  “So, what's your plan now?” Ruby asked.

  “The people called again about the car,” I said.

  “Why didn't you tell me about that?!” Ruby yelled, sitting upright. “What did they say?”

  “The cops were here, and I thought it would seem weird to them if I started talking to my resident ghost.”

  “Okay, fine, I get it,” Ruby said with a huff. “What did they want?”

  “To remind me to stay away from the car, to make sure the cops didn't discover it and to give them a bunch of red herrings for the investigation.”

  “They're watching the house,” Ruby murmured. “Very carefully. I wonder from where?”

  “Unless it's one of the houses down the street, it has to be from the mountains. They can see the car out back. It's the only thing that makes sense.”

  “Agreed, Bernie. I wish we knew what was in that car.”

  “I do, too.” Actually, I'd concocted a little plan to find out, but the execution was still fuzzy to me. Until I had it worked out, I didn't want to let Ruby in on my idea.

  “What's your next step?” she asked.

  “I don't know,” I said with a shrug. “This place is a mess, the police accused me of murder, and my life was threatened. I feel like I have to solve the case.”

  “And how do you plan on doing that?”

  After picking up my phone, I glanced at my reservation app. No one would show for five days, but that didn't mean I couldn't have walk-ins. Cleaning up seemed important, especially if I was to have customers. But I could always hang out my closed shingle, leave the mess, and get on with trying to solve the crime.

  “You need to figure out what the police know,” Ruby said. “Go flirt with that young cop. What was his name?”

  My cheeks heated and I glanced down at my ring. Red. I certainly didn't like my emotions being out in the open for everyone to see, so I pulled it off and shoved it in my pocket. “Adam.”

  “Go flirt with him,” Ruby said as she stood and began twirling around. “Find out everything the cops know. Maybe it will help.”

  “I wish I wasn't a suspect,” I muttered. “I mean, I wasn't even in town. I've told them that twice.”

  “You're a suspect because you lied to them,” Ruby said as she sat down again next to Elvira. “And just because you have those receipts doesn't mean you've used them.”

  And here I thought they cleared me. I glanced over at my ghost, thoroughly confused. “Why would I buy a plane and shuttle ticket and not use them?”

  “To give yourself an alibi.”

  I had the distinct feeling Ruby was speaking from experience. Did I want to know the story? Probably not.

  “See, there was this married man I used to date,” she began. “Now this was years ago. I was in my twenties and didn’t know any better. I was young, selfish and very foolish. Rule number three of life: don’t sleep with married men. It’s wrong.

  Anyway, he didn't want to leave his wife, which was fine with me. I didn't want a man around permanently, anyway. He used to tell his wife he was going away on business trips and he'd buy a plane ticket. Well, he'd come over to my house and we'd—”

  “I get it,” I said, holding up my hand. “I understand now. He had his alibi if his wife ever questioned him.”

  “Exactly,” Ruby said, nodding. “And for the record, I only slept with two married men when I was alive. Way too much drama for me.”

  “Of course,” I muttered with a sigh as I folded the napkins and set them back into the drawer. Ruby never suffered from guilt, unlike me. Sometimes I was riddled with it, even when I shouldn’t be. “That's an expensive alibi.”

  “He had money to burn,” Ruby said with a shrug. “And I was worth it.”

  I had thought the tickets cleared me, but she'd proven otherwise. No wonder the cops kept pestering me. They'd probably seen a guilty party pull out a plane ticket a half-dozen times to prove their innocence.

  A half-hour later, I had the dining room put back together and had started on the living room. My phone blared in the quiet, sending Elvira racing for the stairs, and I actually screamed I'd been so caught up in my own thoughts.

  I picked up the device fully expecting a call from Sarah as she’d promised. I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm my thundering heart. The number was familiar.

  “Hi, Darla,” I said breathlessly.

  “How dare you?” she hissed. “I cannot believe you!”

  Uh-oh. “How dare I what?” Glancing around, I noted Ruby had once again disappeared.

  “The police just left the diner, Bernie. They told me that you gave them my name and now I'm a suspect in your murder!”

  Oh. Okay. I understood. “I didn't have a choice,” I said. “They asked me who checked Gonzalez in, and I had to give them your name.”

  “You most certainly did not have to do that!” she yelled. “I had nothing to do with that man dying!”

  “Darla, when I explained to them that I was in Louisiana, they asked who was taking care of my business for me. That was you. I couldn't lie.”

  “They came into my diner and stomped around like they owned the place!” she yelled, obviously not hearing my explanation. “Then they pulled me away from dinner preparation to talk to me, even though I explained I was busy and had nothing to do with the death!”

  “I'm sorry, Darla. They were here at the house and—”

  “And that's exactly where they should have stayed! I had customers clearing out! I lost money because of you!”

  “Darla—”

  “I did you a favor, and this is how you repay me? By throwing me under the bus? You aren't a friend, Bernadette Maxwell. In fact, don't ever call me again. You're dead to me.”

  She hung up and I stared at the phone, unable to believe the conversation. So what if the police upended her life for a few minutes? They were looking for a murderer, which was a little more important than her cutting lettuce for BLT sandwiches.

  Unless she was guilty. Then she'd be terribly upset about the police poking around.

  But how would she have murdered him?

  She'd seen Mr. Gonzalez fighting with Stan out on the street. He'd come into the house and she’d checked him in. Perhaps she’d slipped something into his smoothie from Sarah's when he wasn't looking? But why? Had she known him?
Had he been rude to her or done something inappropriate?

  With a sigh, I sat down at the dining room table, ran my hand over the pristine, shiny wood, then rubbed my temples.

  You're dead to me. Dang, that was harsh, and my chest began to ache as tears stung my eyes. How could my best friend say that to me? Perhaps Darla would calm down and realize I had no choice. I found her reaction over-exaggerated at best. As the tears spilled, I didn't know if they were from sadness, anger, or from feeling overwhelmed by my situation. Maybe a little of everything. Ruby appeared on the other side of the table after I slammed my hand down on the surface.

  “What's got your knickers on fire?” she asked.

  “I just got off the phone with Darla,” I said, sniffing as I wiped my eyes. “She said I'm dead to her because I told the cops she checked Gonzalez in and they're now investigating her.”

  Ruby arched an eyebrow. “Wow. That's a little uncalled for and very rude. Why was she so upset?”

  I shrugged and wiped my cheeks again. Stupid tears. I hated crying.

  “Sounds like she's guilty or something,” Ruby said.

  “That's exactly what I thought. I don't understand how she would have poisoned him, or why.”

  “See? You need to go find out what the police know.”

  “It's not like I can waltz into the station and make demands for them to tell me everything.”

  “Of course you can't. Like I said, you need to be a little stealthier than that. You need to use your womanly wiles to get what you want.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That tactic went out of style years ago.”

  “Well, it should make a comeback. A bat of the eyelashes and a smile go a long way with men.”

  I stared at the table, unsure how to respond.

  “But then again, so does a cheeseburger, beer, and a football game. You have to use what's at your disposal. Right now, you’ve got your looks. Go put them to work.”

  Chapter 12

  I stood in front of the mirror and applied a little mascara, getting ready to go meet Adam.

  “Definitely use more,” Ruby said from the doorway behind me. “You want those baby blues to really pop.”

  With a sigh, I eyed myself critically. I also didn't want my eyelashes to resemble spider legs. “I think that's enough.”

  “Suit yourself. Add a little blush, though. You're looking a little tired and pale.”

  Understatement of the year. No matter how many deep breathing exercises I did, my mind kept racing and panic gripped my chest at my situation. Sleep did not come easily, and only in short fits.

  I added the blush and returned to my bedroom. Standing in front of my closet, I decided to wear my Pretty in Pink T-shirt.

  Ruby sighed and shook her head as I pulled it on. “Seriously, Bernie? I know you have a thing for eighties movies, but that shirt has the sex appeal of a dead skunk. Find something with a little more cleavage.”

  “I don't have anything with cleavage,” I muttered, becoming irritated with her. “This shirt will be fine.”

  “What if he doesn't like eighties movies? What if he's more of a nineties guy and prefers Wayne's World and Dumb and Dumber over Molly Ringwald?”

  “Well, Wayne's World wasn't bad, so we can agree on that.”

  “Both movies deserve to go down in the history books as classics,” she said with a chuckle. “Especially Wayne's World. Goodness, that was funny. But seriously, change your top.”

  I studied my reflection in the mirror and decided Pretty in Pink it was. “I'm wearing the dang shirt, Ruby. I don't want to look like I'm trying to impress him.”

  “Why not? Men like that stuff. Dress to impress and all that.”

  I sighed, finding it hard to believe a headache had already begun to form behind my eyes and I hadn't even left my bedroom yet. “Ruby...”

  “Fine. Wear what you want.”

  “The only one I need to impress is myself.”

  “I agree, one hundred percent. However, flashing a little cleavage every now and then never hurt anyone.”

  She disappeared before I could argue.

  With a sigh, I fed Elvira and grabbed a garlic and onion bagel for myself, missing the eggs and bacon Darla usually brought over whether I had guests or not. I still didn't understand why she'd been so upset over a visit from the police, and that had been the main reason I'd remained awake most of the night. Could she have really been that rattled, or was she guilty of something?

  Like me, Darla tended to suffer from a bit of anxiety every now and then, so maybe it had gotten the best of her. Hopefully, she'd call today and apologize for her outburst. Or perhaps I should give her a ring? Nope. I couldn't handle being yelled at again. No more tears for me.

  And Sarah had never called after her confrontation with the police. Was she upset with me as well, or had she simply forgotten? It seemed like I was losing friends faster than greased lightning.

  I quickly gave my teeth another brushing, not wanting to smell like garlic and onion when I spoke to Adam. My plan had been to slip out the front door and leave Ruby here since she was tethered to me outside the house. I didn't want her chattering over my shoulder while I met with Adam. After listening intently, I didn't hear her singing or talking to Elvira, so I figured she'd gone to her tunnel. I quietly hurried through the house, but when I rounded the corner, her ghostly form was standing by the front door with her arms crossed over her chest.

  “You were going to leave me!” she shrieked. “I knew it!”

  “N-no, I wasn't,” I stammered, my face flushing from being caught in the lie.

  “Yes, you were! I can tell by your cheeks!”

  “Fine,” I said with a sigh. “When we meet Adam, can you please not talk?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you are so distracting!”

  Her face fell as if I'd hurt her feelings. “I'm only trying to help you.”

  Now I felt even guiltier. “Look, I appreciate you wanting to help me, I really do. But when you start talking at the same time I'm trying to hold another conversation, it's difficult for me to split my concentration between you and the person I'm supposed to be talking to. I'm just not that talented.”

  Ruby nodded. “I understand. And I'll remain quiet.”

  “Okay. Thank you. Should we go?”

  “Yes. Get me out of here. Please.”

  Relief swept through me as we exited the house. I needed Ruby for moral support and a future plan I was still trying to piece together, and I didn't want her upset with me as well. Darla's wrath still hurt.

  “Another lovely day!” Ruby said, smiling, as we walked. “Although, I do wish we'd take your SUV instead. We could get there a lot faster.”

  “I need the exercise,” I replied. “I haven't had much time to do anything.”

  “Murder investigations will do that to you. It'll be nice when we put all this behind us.”

  I couldn't agree more.

  “Maybe we can have that dance party?” Ruby ventured.

  With a smile, I nodded, although even thinking about having fun seemed like the wrong thing to do, especially if I could end up in prison for a crime I didn't commit.

  Butterflies tickled my belly as we approached the police station. As a woman in her thirties—actually, closer to the forties—I shouldn't have been nervous at the thought of talking to a man, but here I was.

  Before we entered, I whispered, “Remember, you need to be quiet, okay?”

  “Quiet as the dead. That's me.”

  We stared at each other for a beat and then both burst out laughing. A few people glared at me like I was the local crazy person, but I couldn't stop.

  “Oh, heck, that was funny,” Ruby said. “Nothing like a good belly laugh. Best medicine in the world.”

  I wiped my eyes and hoped my mascara hadn't run down my face, but I did feel much better. Ruby was right about laughter being the best medicine.

  “Go in there and slay that man with sexiness!” Ruby yelled
as I pulled open the door.

  I'd called early in the morning to find out Adam's work schedule, and learned his arrival should coincide with mine. That way, I wouldn't have to track him down if he was out on patrol.

  “Is Adam in?” I asked the receptionist, a smiling woman in her sixties.

  “One moment, dear.” She stood slowly and disappeared around the corner, then came back a moment later. “He's on his way,” she said with a wink.

  I took a seat and waited patiently. The side door swung open and he strode out, each step exuding confidence. He didn't bother to try and hide his surprise when our gazes locked.

  “Bernadette? What are you doing here?” He ran a hand through his blond hair and stared at me expectantly.

  “I... I... um... was wondering if we could grab a cup of coffee or something.”

  His brow creased in confusion. “What for?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about Mr. Gonzalez.” I batted my eyelashes, hoping I was doing it right.

  “Do you have something in your eye?” Adam asked. “Should I get you a tissue or something?”

  Yes, that's me. Sexy to the bone.

  “No, I'm fine,” I said, my cheeks heating. “What about that coffee? I'm buying.”

  “If we're going to talk about the case, we should do it in an interrogation room. It should be a formal discussion.”

  Pursing my lips together, I had no idea how to answer, and I glanced over at Ruby hoping she'd help me out of this one. Instead, she stared at me like she would a strange animal in the zoo, as if she couldn't quite comprehend my awkwardness.

  “Should we head back?” Adam asked.

  “Don't let him take you back there, Bernie. It's one door closer to jail. Tell him police stations and Sheriff Walker scare you,” Ruby finally blurted. “Tell him it's not official. You just want to talk about it and you aren't expecting him to give up anything about the investigation, even though that's exactly what you're asking him to do.”

  I repeated Ruby’s words and Adam's features softened.

  “Well, I certainly don't want to put you in an uncomfortable position,” he said. “I guess a coffee wouldn't hurt. I like your shirt, by the way. Great movie.”