by K E O'Connor
“Nothing like that,” said Helen. “He’s in the police.”
The conversation in the room died, and all eyes swiveled to stare at Helen.
The piece of pizza Ignatius was holding fell to the floor with a plop.
Helen licked her lips and stared around the room. “What just happened?”
“We’re not fans of law enforcement,” said Ignatius darkly. “If I’d have known a cop was sniffing around you, I wouldn’t have wasted my time even speaking to you.”
Helen blinked several times and gave me a puzzled look. “I’m not dating him yet.”
“Better if you don’t date him at all.” Elita gave Helen’s hand a brief pat, a worried look in her eyes. “We’ve had a few run-ins with the law over the years. It always ends badly, often for them.”
“There’s always some cop wanting to put you away,” said Ignatius. “It’s a disgrace the way they’ve hounded this family over the years.”
“Why would they hound you?” I asked.
“Because they’ve got it in for us,” said Ignatius. “Police hold grudges and never let you forget if you’ve done something wrong.”
“Our wrong doings are in the past,” said Elita. “We want a quiet life.”
“Having a member of staff dating a cop is out of the question,” said Ignatius. “It will jog memories and get the wrong people interested in us.”
“You can’t dictate who I date.” Helen glared at Ignatius.
“Think carefully before you date him,” said Elita. “Life as the girlfriend of a police officer must be stressful.”
It couldn’t be any more stressful than being married to a criminal. I sipped more of my sweet cocktail and decided not to air that thought.
“That’s part of the reason I’m ignoring him,” said Helen.
“My advice is to keep ignoring him and look elsewhere,” said Elita. “You don’t want that pretty face lined with worry wrinkles.”
Helen rubbed a finger across her crease-free forehead. “I guess not.”
Flipper ran over from his investigation of the food table, sat at Ignatius’s feet, and pointed his nose at the piece of dropped pizza.
Ignatius looked down and ruffled Flipper’s fur. “It’s all yours, boy. Hope you like pepperoni.”
Flipper made short work of the pizza before looking up again and raising a paw at Ignatius. Flipper did like pepperoni.
Ignatius laughed, and the tension in the room faded as people continued their conversations.
“I’ve always liked dogs,” said Ignatius. “This one is smart. He sees an opportunity and goes for it.”
“He’s the smartest dog I’ve ever met.” My shoulders inched down as Ignatius switched on the charm and began complimenting Elita on her dress. Here was a man to watch out for. There was something dark lurking behind his gaze, and I could see through his charming words and didn’t like what hid behind them. I was adding him to my suspect list.
Sylvia shot through the doorway in her wheelchair, Reggie sitting on her lap and yapping loudly. The wheels of her chair skidded across the polished floor. “He’s here! My boy is here!”
We all looked at her in surprise.
“Who are you talking about, Sylvia?” asked Elita.
“It’s Lonnie!” Sylvia’s silver grey hair was a fluffy mess around her head. “He’s outside, and he’s after the gold!”
Chapter 10
“The gold!” Ignatius set down his drink and hurried outside.
Sylvia was already manoeuvring her wheelchair around, seeming determined to get out the front door as quickly as possible.
“Wait a second.” Elita grabbed the back of Sylvia’s chair to prevent her from leaving. “Did you say it was Lonnie outside?”
“That’s right. I saw him with my own eyes,” said Sylvia.
“She’s almost blind,” muttered Carson.
“He was right in front of me!” Sylvia glared at Carson. “And my hearing is excellent, so watch what you say. Lonnie is out there. He was gesturing for me to follow him. He’s come back for what he hid from us, and he won’t rest until everything is settled. And that includes how he died.”
Elita knelt next to the wheelchair and took hold of Sylvia’s hand. “Lonnie is dead. We just laid him to rest.”
“I’m telling you he was outside.” Sylvia’s wild gaze shot to me. “She’ll back me up. Lorna knows what I’m talking about.”
I took a step back. There was no way I was going to reveal my ghost seeing ability in front of the family.
“Let’s take a look outside and see what’s going on. Could be we have an intruder in the grounds who scared you.” Michael strode to the door.
“I know my own son when I see him,” said Sylvia, “even if he is a ghost.”
“You ladies stay here. I’ll go investigate.” Michael headed towards the front door.
“There’s no way I’m staying in here,” I muttered to Helen. “Let’s go see what Sylvia’s talking about.”
We abandoned our drinks and hurried to the front door, which stood open, an unwelcoming inky blackness looming outside.
I took a deep breath, ignoring the nerves fluttering in my chest, and walked outside with Helen and Flipper. Michael stood in front of the water fountain outside, slowly scanning the grounds. His hands were balled into fists as if he was preparing to strike an enemy the second he spotted one. Elita was right; he needed to relax.
Ignatius stood to the right of Michael, his hands stuffed into his trouser pockets as he looked around.
“Do you see Lonnie?” whispered Helen, her fingers gripping my arm.
I looked around the garden. There was that unsettling sensation again, like I was staring at trouble and it had me in its sights. “If he was here, I don’t think he is anymore. Maybe Sylvia scared him off.”
“What about the gold?” asked Helen. “You think Lonnie’s come back to get it?”
“Not much use for gold where he’s going,” I said. “But he might have plans about what he wants to be done with it.”
We turned towards the sound of raised female voices. Sylvia rolled her wheelchair into the front garden, and Elita hurried behind her.
“I need to see if he’s still out here,” Sylvia snapped at Elita. “If my Lonnie needs help, then I’m going to give it to him.”
“Lonnie is at rest now,” said Elita, a worried look on her face. “There’s nothing anyone can do for him.”
“I don’t believe that,” said Sylvia. “He wouldn’t be around if he was at peace. And we all know the reason he cannot rest.”
Ignatius stalked over and glared at Sylvia. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Mom.”
“Of course I do,” said Sylvia. “Lonnie didn’t hide anything from me. He was a good boy. I always said you could learn a lot from him.”
“He was my younger brother,” said Ignatius. “He should have been learning from me. If he’d taken some of my advice, he might still be alive.”
“You’ve got enough bullet holes in you to know you’re more lucky than clever,” said Sylvia. Her gaze moved to Helen and me, and she beckoned us closer. “You girls need to know everything about this family. You won’t be able to help Lonnie, otherwise.”
“Mom, you shouldn’t tell anyone else about family matters,” said Ignatius.
“They should be told,” said Elita. “The girls need to know who they’re working for. They might not want to stay if they know the truth.”
I took a deep breath. “What’s the truth?”
“Lonnie masterminded a gold heist,” said Elita.
I pulled my face into what I hoped looked like I was shocked and surprised and not that Sylvia had already dropped that golden bombshell on Helen and me.
“Well, that’s what everyone believes,” said Sylvia slyly. She gave me a knowing nod.
“He had some help,” muttered Ignatius.
“You hush now,” snapped Sylvia. “You know Lonnie wanted to do this one big job before he
retired. He knew it would set us up for life and then some. It was why he did it. Like I said, he was such a good boy.”
“He wasn’t that good,” said Ignatius. “He hid the gold from us.”
“I had a bad feeling that gold would bring us trouble,” said Elita.
“Let me tell the story.” Sylvia shifted in her wheelchair and placed her hands on her lap, Reggie hopping into the circle her hands made. “You girls can decide what you want to do with the information.”
I looked over at Helen, and she nodded. Seemed she was happy to play along, as well.
“This family has always trodden along some shady lines when it came to money,” said Sylvia. “But we were honest about what we did.”
“Not to the police,” mumbled Ignatius.
Sylvia glared at him, and he dropped his head. “As Lonnie matured, his interest in crime faded. He could see that having too much money was not a good thing, but he wanted to make sure we were provided for before he hung up his criminal hat.”
“So we set up a gold heist,” said Ignatius. “Took us two years to plan.”
“I’m getting to that bit,” said Sylvia. “Both my boys worked hard. We had people go undercover so we could work out the routines and weaknesses when the gold was transferred. It was a huge risk, but we knew the reward would be worth it.”
“And it was,” said Ignatius. “We made off with over twenty-five million pounds worth of gold bars.”
“If you believe the rumors.” Sylvia arched an eyebrow as she stared at me and Helen. “Because the gold has never been found.”
I swallowed, realizing I’d just heard a confession about a robbery. Gunner would be interested in this news.
“But then the problems began,” said Sylvia. “Keeping a lot of stolen gold bars was risky, so Lonnie was tasked with making sure the gold disappeared.”
“And that’s exactly what he did,” said Ignatius. “We transferred the gold into three vehicles, and then they vanished into the night. That was the last I ever saw of the gold.”
“We might not have seen any of the actual gold bars,” said Sylvia, “but Lonnie was generous with his money. He was drip feeding it to the family so as not to alert the police.”
“Sounds sensible,” I said, realizing how dry my throat felt.
“He was a clever boy,” said Sylvia. “He was doing what was best for us all.”
“He had us under his control.” Ignatius slapped a hand on his thigh. “He wouldn’t tell anyone where the gold was.”
“The fact we don’t know where this gold is, is a good thing,” said Sylvia. “If there’s no proof, then no one can take the blame.”
“That’s also sensible,” I said.
“Of course, the police were hot on our tail for ages trying to find out information,” said Sylvia. “But they had nothing to go on. My boys are so smart, they left nothing behind, no clues, no evidence they were involved.”
“The police have closed the investigation?” asked Helen.
“And it will stay closed,” said Ignatius. “If I discover it’s been re-opened, I’ll be coming to you first and asking who you’ve been blabbing to. If you go sweet talking to your cop boyfriend about this that will be the end for you.”
“As if I would.” Helen glared at Ignatius.
“Now, you don’t go threatening either of the girls,” said Sylvia. “I trust them. And besides, we’ve just told them a story. It’s not as if we’ve handed them a gold bar to go running to the police with.”
“We won’t tell anybody,” I said, noticing the dark look in Ignatius’s eyes. “As Sylvia was quick to point out, there’s no proof any of you were involved. We would gain nothing by going to the police and telling them this information.”
“Especially not when it comes from a crazy old lady,” muttered Ignatius.
“You’re not too old for me to bend over my knee and give you a good spanking,” said Sylvia.
“I’d like to see you try.” Ignatius turned and walked away.
“That boy, I thought I’d raised him better,” said Sylvia, before looking at me and Helen. “But the tale doesn’t end there.”
“What else is there to tell?” asked Elita.
“Something must be wrong. Lonnie is still here.”
Elita sighed. “That’s not possible.”
“He’s here for two reasons,” continued Sylvia. “Because he wants his gold to come to the family, and he wants his killer brought to justice.”
Elita frowned. “Lonnie’s death was an accident, and the gold is gone. He probably melted it down and sold it off, and there’s a stack of money invested somewhere we’ll never find.”
“We’ll find it,” said Sylvia. “Lonnie won’t let us down.”
“Sylvia, there’s no such thing as ghosts,” said Elita. “You must have seen somebody wandering around and made a mistake.”
“I know what I saw,” said Sylvia. “Lorna, you can see him as well.”
“I can’t see Lonnie out here,” I said reluctantly.
Sylvia tutted and shook her head.
“Of course you can’t,” said Elita, sharpness in her voice. “Lonnie’s ashes are sitting in an urn in my bedroom.”
“Shouldn’t Chelsea have the urn?” asked Ignatius from his safe spot far away from his mother.
“She said the ashes repulse her.” Elita snorted and shook her head. “Some wife she turned out to be. She’ll never be a true Cornell.”
“My Lonnie would agree with you,” said Sylvia. “And the next time I see him, I’m going to ask what he wants to be done with his ashes.”
“No, you aren’t,” snapped Elita, “because he’s not here. He’s dead. You claiming you can see him is only making everything worse.”
“You know I don’t lie,” said Sylvia.
The two women glared at each other before Sylvia sighed and raised her gaze to meet mine. “Let’s not fight over this. It’s not what Lonnie would have wanted.”
“Suppose you’re going to check that with him, as well.” Elita took a step towards Michael. “Anyone out there?”
“No one,” said Michael. “The place is secure. But I’ll check around Lonnie’s military vehicles; make sure no one has been tampering with them.”
“See!” Elita turned to Sylvia. “We’re alone. No one is trying to get to the gold. Dead or alive.”
Sylvia waved away Elita’s comment and faced me. “Now you know our history, do you still want to stay here?”
“Do stay. We might have a crooked edge,” said Elita, “but we have a heart of gold.”
Sylvia grinned. “We will when we find it.”
“We’re a hard-working family, who take what’s owed to us,” said Ignatius, as he re-joined the group. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
I couldn’t agree with him on that point. Nobody needed that much gold. That was just being greedy.
“Stay a week and see how you get on,” said Elita. “I like you girls. I think you’ll do well here.”
“So long as you both keep your mouth shut about Mom’s gold heist story,” sneered Ignatius. “Remember, you can’t get anything to stick if you tell that tale to anyone else.”
“Boy, I’m warning you,” said Sylvia. “Stop threatening the girls, or we’re going to fall out. I can cut your allowance, you know.”
I stifled a smile as Ignatius slumped forward. My gaze settled on Sylvia, who peered at me with interest.
“If we find the gold, maybe we can cut you in on the deal,” said Sylvia, “make you permanent staff.”
“No way!” said Ignatius. “They had nothing to do with it.”
“I wouldn’t have the first clue what to do with a bar of gold,” I said.
“We wouldn’t give you one of those. But if we did, you wouldn’t need to work anymore,” said Elita, “unless you like being here.”
“I like working,” I said.
“Stubborn, modern women,” growled Ignatius.
I heard Helen squeak w
ith indignation, but grabbed her arm to stop her starting another argument with Ignatius. “I think we’ve had enough fun for one night.”
“It has been revealing,” said Sylvia, a twinkle in her dark eyes.
“You’ll be here in the morning?” asked Elita. “I’ve appreciated your help today. I do need you both, even if it’s just until things settle and I get used to not having Lonnie around.”
I was torn between the desire to get as far away from these criminals as I could and the urge to keep helping Elita. Here was a woman grieving the loss of her cheating ex-husband. She needed someone stable by her side, someone who wasn’t going to go around looking menacing all the time or squeal about in their wheelchair shouting about ghosts and disrupting the family with tales of gold heists. There was also the matter of Lonnie’s murder to solve.
“We’ll stay.” I looked at Helen. “Won’t we?”
“I’m happy if you are,” said Helen.
“That’s excellent news.” Elita gave me a relieved smile. “Now, are you sure I can’t tempt you both to one more cocktail before you turn in?”
“Yes. Maybe something to keep the ghosts away?” Sylvia glared at me.
“We’ve had enough for one night,” I said, refusing to feel bad for not admitting I’d also seen Lonnie’s ghost.
We said a hasty good night to everyone and left the family to continue drinking.
“We’re sharing a bed again, aren’t we?” asked Helen, as we reached my bedroom door.
“Absolutely,” I said. “There’s no way I’m going to risk sleeping alone in this house.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” said Helen. “What with Lonnie’s ghost on the prowl, and Ignatius issuing covert threats at every opportunity, I don’t think I’m ever going to want to sleep alone again.”
Chapter 11
The next morning, I woke feeling groggy. The cocktail I’d had last night had been strong, and I wasn’t used to strong alcohol mixed in such an interesting concoction. Coupled with that, Helen had hogged the covers most of the night. And, at one point, I’d ended up squashed on the edge of the mattress, hugging Flipper to keep me warm. I wasn’t sure how much longer we’d be sharing a bed if she kept this up.
