“Where did Franco say he was supposed to meet Lefebvre?” Heath asked.
“Their secret place,” Gil said. “Whatever that means. Franco insists it was on the castle’s grounds.”
“I know where it is,” I said, and everyone eyed me with surprise. “I saw Franco and Lefebvre making out in a corner of the courtyard partially hidden by foliage, but I don’t know if I believe that he was asleep and missed the drawbridge being pulled up.”
Gil shrugged. “Franco claims he didn’t wake up until the police began to swarm into the courtyard from the watchtower.”
I pursed my lips skeptically. “Convenient,” I said.
“Too convenient,” Heath added.
Still, I wasn’t sure that I was willing to accept Franco as the killer. For one thing, the model didn’t look smart enough to dismantle a drawbridge and plot a fairly sophisticated murder.
But Gil had more to share. “Lumley also showed Franco a statement from Mrs. Lefebvre swearing that Franco was trying to extort money from her husband. She gave him an e-mail from Franco to André where Franco supposedly tried to blackmail André, and Mrs. Lefebvre thinks that Franco killed André because André wouldn’t pay up.”
“It can’t be true,” Michel said, obviously distressed. “Franco would never kill André. He doesn’t have the backbone or the stomach for something like that. And really the lad is quite daft. I can’t see him killing André, and then coming up with such a bloody awful alibi.”
“He had the stomach and brains to try and blackmail Lefebvre,” Heath pointed out.
Michel’s frown deepened. “Perhaps. But I know he didn’t do it,” he insisted.
“Everything points to him, though,” Gilley said gently. He was sweet with Michel, a sure sign that my best friend was developing a serious crush on him. “The last person who saw Franco was Gopher and the girls at between twelve and twelve fifteen, and according to the inspector, André was murdered close to that time.”
“It could have been Mrs. Lefebvre,” I said. I agreed with Michel. Something didn’t fit.
But Gil was already shaking his head. “That’s what Franco said when Lumley and the constable were questioning him, but Lumley wasn’t buying it for two reasons: One, the coroner said that whoever cracked André on the back of the head had to be pretty strong—the skull fracture extended almost the entire length of his head—so they’re thinking the wound had to be inflicted by a male. And the second reason is that Mrs. Lefebvre has rheumatoid arthritis, and she can’t lift anything heavier than a pencil above her head.”
“But what about the other two murders here?” I asked. “Does Lumley also suspect Franco of committing them?”
“As it happens, he does,” Gil replied. “He’s got no proof linking Franco to those murders yet, but Franco doesn’t have an alibi for the time they were committed either. Lumley thinks that it can’t be a coincidence that three people were murdered here at Kidwellah in quick succession and in a similar fashion.”
I turned to Heath. “You buying this?”
“After what Lumley told us last night of similar murders over the past forty years? No.”
“Similar murders?” Michel asked.
“There have been several other suspicious drownings here at Kidwellah over the past four decades,” I explained. “Last night Lumley told us he suspected he may have a serial killer or killers on the loose here at Kidwellah. He even theorized that there could be a father-son team involved because of the span of time.”
“Oh, that’s what he meant when he asked Franco if his father had been released from prison yet,” Gilley said.
Michel blanched and I knew he had details to share. “What?” I asked him.
“Franco and I were together briefly, until we arrived here and I realized he really had a thing for André and he was just using me to make him jealous. But during the time we were together, Franco confessed that his father was doing time for murder. He’s been in prison ever since Franco was fourteen.”
“The plot thickens,” Heath muttered.
“He didn’t do it,” Michel insisted.
I felt bad for Michel. I knew that even though Franco had used Michel, it was obvious the photographer still carried a soft spot for the model. “You know, Michel,” I said to him, “Heath and I have talked at length with Inspector Lumley, and I like him. I think he’s smart and capable of uncovering the whole truth. If Franco is innocent, I think his best chance is to have Lumley try and find enough evidence to prove it, and in doing that, I think the inspector will uncover what actually happened to Mr. Lefebvre.”
“You two could ask his spirit, couldn’t you?” Michel asked, pointing to Heath and me.
I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. “We tried asking Mrs. Hollingsworth’s ghost what happened to her right before she died, and she wasn’t very cooperative. It’s tricky, Michel, because the Grim Widow is also involved. Right now Lefebvre is being held prisoner by the Widow, and Heath and I don’t know how that’s even possible, let alone how to go about freeing him from her clutches long enough to ask him about who might’ve struck him on the head.”
“I know how it’s possible,” Gil said smugly.
I cut him a look. “And you were gong to share this, when?”
“Right now,” he said, and smiled at Michel.
“We’re waiting,” I told him when he didn’t get right to it.
Gil turned back to me. “I called Ray Fairfield in Newark.”
“Really?” I said, surprised to hear the name. Ray was a legend in the field of paranormal investigation. The guy had seen things and encountered stuff that made all the hairs on my neck stand on end. I think he’s the only guy, in fact, who’s had more scary encounters than me. “What’d he say?”
“He says that it’s super rare, but he has heard of one ghost capturing the spirit of another. Basically, he thinks that your Grim Widow has signed a deal with the devil, so to speak.”
“Not literally, though, right?” I asked. Even I’m afraid of stuff like that.
“Well, maybe not the head honcho of Hades, but Ray thinks that your spook has agreed to keep her portal open as a gate for a powerful demon.”
“The shadow,” I whispered, remembering that horrible black shadow that chased John through the halls.
“Yeah,” Gil said with a shudder. “John told me about that thing. I’m glad I wasn’t with you when it came out of hiding.”
“Okay, so what does making a deal with a demon get the Widow?” Heath asked.
“Power,” Gil replied. “Ray thinks that the demon is providing all the extra wattage for the Widow to throttle anyone willing to get close to her. . . like you two fools. . . and capture the souls of anyone she kills.”
“But we don’t think she killed Merrick or André Lefebvre, so how did she capture their souls?” I asked.
“Oh, she still could’ve killed them,” Gil said. “If both of them were incapacitated before they were thrown into the moat, then all she’d have to do is grab an arm or a leg and pull them under until they drowned.”
“But I thought Lefebvre died of the blow to the back of the head?” Heath pressed.
“Nope,” Gilley said, and I could tell he was enjoying knowing so much more than us at the moment. “According to the conversation Lumley had with Franco, Lefebvre was hit hard enough for the blow to be mortal, but not instantly fatal. The actual cause of death was drowning, and Lumley wants to make sure that when the case goes to trial, the jury knows that even though Lefebvre was cracked on the skull, he still could have been conscious enough to suffer while he drowned.”
Heath made a small noise and I glanced his way. His hand was rubbing his chest and I knew he was remembering his own painful near-death experience.
Still, there was someth
ing about how the Widow’s prisoners were chained to her that bothered me. “Did Ray have any theories on why the Widow’s captives were all wearing a collar and chain?”
“Ray says he’s seen something similar. He once saw a spook being dragged by the neck by another, more powerful spook with a length of rope. He thinks the collar and the chain are simply manifestations of the Widow’s power. It’s like, you know how on the lower planes everything is driven by thought, right?”
“Yeah,” said Heath.
“Well, if the Widow convinces a newly made ghost that she’s taking them prisoner, then all she has to do is think up a chain and a collar to put around their necks and they actually become a physical part of that newly grounded ghost’s world.”
“It’s like she’s an evil genie,” I said. “She just snaps her fingers and she’s got you in chains.”
“Exactly,” Gilley agreed. “To Lefebvre and Brown that collar and chain are very real. They could no more break free of them than if I put a real one on you. It’s all about dominance. If she’s really sucking energy from a demon, then she’s got the power to keep them in chains for eternity.”
We were all silent for several moments while we digested the horrors of that. Finally I asked, “Did Ray have any ideas about how to free the Widow’s prisoners?”
He shook his head. “You know Ray. He told me to tell you to block up her portal if you can, and say a prayer for the poor bastards locked in with her. They’ll be stuck in hell with the Widow forever, but it beats having her run loose among other possibly innocent victims.” I stared hard at Gil and he simply shrugged. “His words, M. J., not mine.”
“We’re not shutting them in her portal without at least trying to set them free.”
“It might help to know who she’s got trapped in there,” Heath said. “Maybe if we can surround her portal and call out personally to as many of her victims as we can, we’ll be able to get them to make a run for it. If we can get enough of them to bolt, she’ll have a hard time holding on to all those chains, and maybe we can get them to just this side of the portal right before we jam a few dozen spikes into it.”
“Suicide,” Gil said to him with a shake of his head. “Seriously, honey, that plan will get you killed.”
I sighed. “We have to find the Widow’s portal first, which may be just as difficult as shutting it down. Still, I think Heath’s right and that we should do a little digging into who the victims were. Gil, there has to be a list of the poor souls found floating in the moat somewhere, and if there is or was a serial killer offering up sacrifices to the Grim Widow, then knowing who the victims are may be of some use to us. Lumley told us that besides Lefebvre, Merrick, and Mrs. Hollingsworth, there were nine other suspicious drownings here at the castle over the past forty years.”
“More research,” Gil grumbled.
“I only ask because you’re so good at it.”
Gil made a face, but I could see he was secretly pleased that I’d complimented him in front of Michel.
At that moment Meg, Kim, and John all came into the dining hall and took up seats at our table. Once Mary had taken their breakfast orders, we got down to the business of discussing that evening’s shoot.
“Where’s our illustrious producer?” I asked.
“On the phone with Chris,” John said. “By the sound of their conversation, it’s probably gonna be a long one. Chris wasn’t happy that our shoot last night got postponed.”
My jaw dropped. “A woman was murdered and the police were here most of the night investigating!”
John shrugged. “Chris doesn’t think that’s a good enough reason.”
I scowled. I was really starting to hate that guy. “Well, I’d rather not wait for Gopher. Besides, we all know he’s not great with prep work assignments. The seven of us can handle it.” I pulled out my iPhone and lit up the notes screen where I’d typed out all the details we’d have to cover. “First,” I said, “we’re going to need to get the entire crew outfitted with Gilley sweatshirts. I don’t want anyone walking around the castle or the moors without being fully protected.”
“Even you two?” Kim asked, pointing to me and Heath.
“Yes. Even the two of us. This Grim Widow is crazy powerful. She appears in full form to us every time she’s around. That takes amazing energy. She’s also physically powerful enough to have nearly drowned Heath.”
“She’s at least twice as strong as me,” Heath confirmed, and I watched everyone at the table stare at Heath for a good few seconds, taking that in. He’s no wimp, that’s for sure, and it had to be astonishing to believe he’d been overpowered by a ghost.
“This spook is beyond dangerous, guys,” I said. “I know we all really need the money, but I have to warn you, whatever is going on in this castle, the Widow’s ghost has been stirred up and she’s definitely on the prowl for more victims. If she pulls any of you into the water, there won’t be much we can do. And those magnets won’t be a lot of help to you if you end up in the moat. She can just let the cold water and the weight of your clothing make your limbs too weak to function.”
I let that sit a minute with the crew before I continued. “The important thing on this shoot is going to be to protect ourselves first, get the footage second. I don’t want anyone taking unnecessary risks. Even if Gopher pushes you for it, you’re to stick to the game plan and follow my or Heath’s instructions. Got it?”
To a person everyone nodded.
“Good. Now, Kim and Meg, you’ll need to go into town and find the right-size sweatshirts for the crew. You’ll need two sweatshirts per person—I want backups just in case someone’s gets torn or lost.”
Meg raised her hand. “M. J.?”
“Yes?”
“I had a thought,” she said hesitantly as she eyed the sagging mass of fabric around Gilley.
“Which is?” I really wanted the girl to just spit it out.
“Well, I know we’ve always glued the magnets to sweatshirts, but what if there was a better garment that might let everybody move a little easier?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“A bubble vest.”
“What’s a bubble vest?” Gil asked.
“You know what a bubble coat is, don’t you, Gil?” she replied. “It’s a puffy down-filled coat.”
“Oh, I know what you’re talking about,” Gil said. “I have one of those at home in Boston, but I don’t wear it ’cause it makes me look fat.”
Everyone at the table seemed to press their lips together, because Gil’s current choice of protective ghost-gear made him look like something out of a tire commercial. “Anyway,” Meg continued, “I was at this store in town yesterday, and they have a whole section of bubble vests on sale—probably because summer’s coming. I was thinking that we could take out some of the stitching in the quilting that holds the down, and shove in some magnets, then sew the seams back up again. That way the material wouldn’t sag, the vest would still keep you nice and warm, and you’d have the full use of your arms without being weighed down by the magnets.”
Shy little Meg surprised me with her ingenuity. “Girl, that’s a fantastic idea!” I said. “How long do you think it’ll take you to convert a vest into a magnetized version?”
“Maybe an hour and a half?”
I grimaced. We’d need a total of eight vests plus maybe one or two extra for security and it was already well after ten. Meg would also need to buy the vests after our meeting.
“I could help,” Kim said. “I’m pretty good with a needle and thread.”
“You’re hired,” I told her. “And I want you guys to head to town right away to purchase the coats. Get Gopher’s credit card before you go, and if he gives you any flak about it, call me and I’ll set him straight. John, can you take notes for
the rest of the meeting and fill Kim and Meg in when they get back?”
“No sweat.”
“Great. Kim. Meg. Go get ’em.”
The two assistants pushed back their chairs and practically ran to do my bidding. I was rather liking my little power trip. Too bad I couldn’t get Gil to react like that.
“I hope you don’t expect me to jump to your command,” Gil muttered, as if he’d read my mind.
I ignored him and focused on Michel. “When they get back, I’d like the first vest to go to you.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I think we should get some stills of the castle, both inside and out, to use in the movie. I know Gopher’s directing this thing, and he may toss out the idea of using stills, but if we have photos on hand, we can better formulate a plan about where to shoot first. All of the shots should be taken in the daytime, and the minute dusk hits, you hightail it back here so that we can have dinner and catch a little sleep before we set out tonight.”
“Of course,” Michel said. “I like the idea of using stills in the movie too.”
“No getting too close to the south wing, though,” I warned. “Even with a magnetized vest it’s not a good idea.”
“Got it.”
Next I turned to John. “I need a blueprint of the castle, John. If there isn’t one on hand, then please find Mr. Crunn and have him help you draw a map. Let him know I need to be able to see every secret passage and hidden stairwell he knows about. I don’t want any of us to get caught like you did the other day when you fell against that sconce.”
John nodded. “I’m on it.”
Finally I turned to Gilley. “Yes?” he said with half-closed lids.
“I need some additional research.”
“Don’t you always?”
“Are you really going to be difficult on this bust too?”
“Why change now?”
“Because, smart guy, if you don’t get us what we need, the Widow could strike in a way or in an area we don’t expect, and Heath is the only one I’d go back in the water for.”
What a Ghoul Wants Page 22
