Buzz.
Mallory reached inside the thick wool pocket of her sweater for her cellphone and scanned the incoming text message. “Nana!” She reached back and flung open the suite’s French doors, “Someone’s dead in bed!”
“Bull-hooey,” declared the cranky old woman from inside the apartment’s kitchen.
“Someone’s Dead Inn Bed & Breakfast. That’s what Joelle wrote back.” Mallory clicked on the text and held her phone out.
“Absolutely not. That is just the stupidest name I’ve ever heard.”
“Come on, Nana, it’s not stupid so much as it’s cheesy, and it’s a murder mystery game, so what did you expect?”
Mallory’s nana—the cranky woman who’d now wandered out onto the balcony to join her—wrenched the smart phone from her hands. Her little white Shih Tzu, Abby, clipped along at her side, ears perked. It was early in the morning but Nana was already artfully dressed in a classic oxford button-down, well-cut jeans, and a knit sweater. Her black and silver curls were pulled back and hidden under a colorful madras headwrap to reveal oversized hoop earrings.
At a petite five feet, she was the pinnacle of an adorably stylish French grandmother to anyone who didn’t know her; however, Nana, as everyone in their small town of Bohemian Lake called her, descended from a powerful line of Roma people, and was not to be trifled with.
“How can you read anything on this tiny little screen? I might as well try to read the print off of a bloody eyelash.”
Smiling, Mallory faced her grandmother. “You just need your glasses.”
“Malhala, glasses are for mémères,” Nana snapped. Malhala was Mallory’s Roma name, which Nana only used when she meant business—such as now—so Mallory didn’t bother to point out that Nana was, in fact, an old lady. That would not have gone over well. Abby barked twice, for good measure. They always sided together.
“Now, you write her back for me and tell her to come up with something else.” She passed the phone back to Mallory.
“The event starts in an hour. Isn’t it a little late to change things?”
“Yes, but Caravan Manor is hardly a bed-and-breakfast. It makes no sense. We offer fifteen bedrooms, a carriage house and two caravans.”
“Well, what do you want to call it, then?” Mallory crossed her arms, knowing Nana wouldn’t have an answer.
“I don’t know. What was wrong with the Caravan Carnival thing?”
“That’s the theme, Nana. The Caravan Carnival’s Missing Coin is what the game is about. The Manor still needs a fictional name for the storyline. How did you hear about this company, anyway?”
“Eve Banter—you know, the one who’s always causing trouble, and dresses like a ho—”
“Nana!”
“What?! …I was gonna say hooligan. Honestly, Mallory.”
“I know just what you were gonna say and we both know who Eve is.” Mallory sighed. She needed Irish cream in her coffee to deal with her wily grandmother this early in the morning. “So, Eve knows this Joelle woman?”
“Yes, Eve actually introduced her to your mother when they were teens. They chummed around a few summers. Apparently, her company is having money trouble, which is why she’s testing out this new business model where she takes the show on the road.”
“That’s unfortunate, but if she was a friend of Mom’s, then I’m happy we’re helping her out.”
“Indeed. Eve caught her up on our family history and explained how we offer mystery-themed events at the manor and so they’ve come up with a storyline that will suit us and some of our existing characters.”
“You mean our ghost?”
Nana cocked an eyebrow at her. “I meant our Roma ancestry and travelling caravan theme but, yes, they know about our ghost. Eve can hardly be expected to keep her yap shut, now can she?”
Mallory smirked. “So, it will be business as usual for us, only we won’t know who the murderer is for a change. Sounds great.”
“Exactly.”
“I look forward to being in the dark for once. Danior is going to be excited. Where is she, anyway?”
“Downstairs, helping with breakfast. She should be back any minute.”
“I guess we should stop talking about this, then. We don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
Nana’s white aura flickered with dark blue.
Mallory didn’t fully understand the complexities of her aura-reading capabilities yet. She could see aura’s change, pulse and flicker as plain as day but she hadn’t quite worked out the system as to what it all meant.
“Nana! What aren’t you telling me?”
“Well, however should I know what I don’t know?”
Mallory’s brain hurt watching the blue in Nana’s aura push and strain outward, “Never mind.” She’d figure it out later. Sometimes it felt like Nana was constantly testing her abilities. “How many of Joelle’s team are coming?”
“It’s best if the guest list is a secret. That’s why Lise handled the invites and Joelle handled the RSVP’s. All I know is Joelle’s team will show up along with the rest of the guests, this way no one will know who the planted actors are.”
“Why do they plant actors?”
“To keep the plotlines running, of course, in case one of the participants isn’t doing their job.”
“And if we like it—we can offer it to our clients on a semi-regular basis. I can think of more than a few local companies that would be interested in just such a team-building event.”
Nana frowned. “Tea bidding? What’s that?”
“A t-e-a-m building event—it’s an activity that companies pay to do when they want to enhance social relations and define roles within teams. You know, it teaches people to work together.”
“Sounds terrible. Anyway, I do know that Eve’s sister Michèle is coming. She’s on the same train as Denise Beausoleil and Gloria Simard. They should all be here anytime. Did you make sure their rooms are ready? They are going to be cranky after that three-hour ride from Frontenac.”
“Yes, Nana,” Mallory answered. “The rooms were turned down last night and the kitchen staff will be providing a snack upon their arrival.”
“Good. Denise is practically an Amazonian, and she loves to eat.”
“Well, I hope they get here soon. I just checked the weather.” Mallory held up the phone. “We’re getting more flurries.” She tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear and gazed longingly at the snow-covered caravan. It was permanently parked at the edge of the woods overlooking the frozen lake. Once a summer, Mallory would take holidays there. Contrary to Nana, who preferred the main floor socials, Mallory quite enjoyed her privacy. Not that she didn’t love running the Manor, but sometimes she just longed to stay in their third-story suite alone. “They say it will be whiteout conditions soon.”
The wind picked up in time to punctuate Mallory’s claim.
Nana waved her hand away as if to wave Mother Nature off. “I’m sure it will all be fine. I can’t wait to find out who I’ll be playing. I bet I’ll be assigned the brainy detective. Do you remember, I was always so good at solving those Scooby-Doo mysteries when you were little?”
Mallory rolled her eyes, but grinned. Nana was making it just too easy today. “I’m sure they’ll make you a detective, Nana, you have all the right qualities… nosy, accusatory...”
“Are you gonna give me sass all day?”
“Me? No way. That’s Danior’s job.” Mallory gave Nana a wink.
“Brrr…you guys are letting all the cold air in.” Danior said, stepping out onto the balcony to join them.
“You're back.” Nana said.
“Yep, so when do we get into costume?”
Mallory glanced at Nana. “She knows? I thought we were surprising her in the foyer.” Well, that explained the aura. The blue had been an indication of guilt and deception. She’d have to take note of that—knowing when Nana was being deceitful would be very useful.
“Sorry, toots, she must be nosy
like me.”
“I saw Nana’s phone this morning. She needed me to read the text messages for her,” Danior clarified. “She hates wearing her glasses. They make her feel old.”
Mallory started to chime in but bit her tongue instead, best not to engage Nana right now. They needed to get downstairs and there was nothing that woman loved more than a good fight, especially one she thought she could win, which was all of them.
“Do you need a refill?” Nana asked, turning to walk back inside.
Mallory glanced down at her full mug of now lukewarm coffee. “No, I’m good.”
“Okay then, I’m going to start breakfast. French toast sound okay?” Nana said and disappeared back inside, closing the door behind her.
“So, has Nana told you yet?” Danior asked.
“Told me what?”
“About the guy?”
“What guy?”
“The guy she’s setting you up with.”
“Noooo,” Mallory said with a groan and lowered her voice. “Dan, you have got to help me out here. The last guy she set me up with snored like a chainsaw. I thought I was on a date with Leatherface, and that was the most attractive thing about him.”
Danior giggled. “He couldn't have been that bad if you spent the night with him,” she said.
“I didn’t. He was narcoleptic and fell asleep at lunch!” Mallory grabbed her arm.
“Well, Nana told me all about this guy and he sounds perfect for you.”
“No way. You've got to get me out of this,” Mallory said under her breath as Nana returned.
“Oh, hey, Mal. I want you to meet someone—”
“I'm busy next weekend,” Mallory said quickly.
“You are?” Nana said, looking at her with big innocent eyes.
“Yes,” Mallory said, giving her a fake frown. “I’m booked up with readings.”
“No, you aren’t.” Nana said. “I checked your schedule.”
“The call just came in. A bachelorette weekend and I have to go to them.”
“Well, that’s no problem!” Nana said with a snap of her fingers. “You’ll just have to wait an extra week to go out with him, if you like him. I think he might be staying in town for a while for work. You can ask him. He should be here soon.”
“What do you mean… here soon? We have the murder mystery party today.” Mallory repeated.
“I know, he’s one of the guests and he is perfect for you. You know I'm rarely wrong about these things!” she added as she bustled off.
Mallory turned sharply on Danior. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming to the party?”
“I’m not crossing Nana. You remember what she did to me the last time I lied for you.”
Mallory smiled at the memory. “You’re right,” she said. “Nana is not to be trifled with.”
“Why do you hate dating so much, anyway? I mean, spring is right around the corner—surely you want to have a spring fling?”
Mallory swirled the liquid around in her mug for a minute before answering her. “I don’t think that’s what the term means. And anyway, it’s because guys look at me like I'm crazy. I do see dead people, after all. It’s not exactly a turn-on.”
“What? No one else is including that in their online dating profile?”
“Why yes, they all say I love long walks down scary hallways filled with tortured souls.”
Danior threw her head back and gave a hearty laugh. “Well, I’m sure they don’t all look at you like you’re crazy but, anyway, who cares what they think? You shall not be intimidated by judgmental dudes who love pizza!”
“It's not that I'm intimidated,” Mallory said defensively. “I just don't want to deal with it.”
“What you need to find is a real man. Someone who's as cool as you,” Danior mused. “And I swear, this guy that Nana told me about, he just might be able to give you a run for your money.”
Mallory cocked a skeptical eyebrow at her and the smile brightened just a bit.
“Come on, Mal. You can't let life pass you by. You, more than anyone, should understand that.”
She had Mallory there. How many stranded spirits had she come across who were simply stuck because they refused to move forward while all around them the living marched on with their lives as the spirits just resentfully watched?
With a sigh Mallory said, “When you're right, you're right, Danior. Okay, tell me about the guy. Is he normal?”
Danior smiled brightly at her. “Oh, he's about as normal as you.”
Mallory cocked her head. “He's weird?”
“No. He sounds fabulous, and you won’t get any more details from me since I don’t actually know him.” She glanced at the clock on the wall and rolled her eyes. “Now, it’s time to greet our fellow mystery opponents and get our character outlines.”
Two
_____________
A curious excitement rippled through the foyer as the ladies of the manor descended the main staircase. It was only 11:15 in the morning but it looked as though all the guests had already been checked in—the ones who hadn’t cancelled thanks to the snowstorm, anyway.
Mallory inhaled the scent of warm, sugary dough and sighed in contentment as she took in the room. There was a group gathered around the bar to the left. Some were sipping coffee while others enjoyed mimosas. And there was even a buffet of snacks set up close by.
Nana interrupted Mallory’s observations, “Ready to fall in love?”
Mallory gave Danior a sidelong glance and took the last sip of her coffee, “I'll do my best.”
“I have a good feeling about this one, Mal,” she said.
Mallory failed to remind her that she'd had a good feeling about the other three duds she'd fixed her up with and simply nodded.
Nana seemed to relax and leaned in to give her a hug. “That's my girl,” she said.
“Awww. A hallmark moment,” Mallory heard behind her, and she looked up to see that Eve had arrived. “What'd I miss?” Eve asked as she hugged Nana.
“I've set Mallory up with a date,” Nana said, releasing Eve.
“And she let you?” Eve said, giving Mallory a wink.
“Since when does that matter?” Danior asked.
Eve chuckled. “When's the blessed event?”
“I'm sitting right here, you know,” Mallory groused.
“You might as well be hog-tied,” Eve retorted.
Nana ignored her. “Tonight. He is one of the players.”
“Ooh… the mystery game. Sneaky!” She turned to Mallory. “If he’s a dud, you can always figure out who the killer is and have him knocked off.”
“He is not a dud!” Nana insisted. She leaned in and whispered in Eve’s ear. Mallory tried to lean in, too, but they shooed her away.
Eve listened for a moment and then squealed, “That’s perfect.”
“I know,” Nana replied.
Mallory was just about to demand they tell her about him when a young woman approached. She was a very striking girl, perhaps a few years younger than Mallory, with blue hair and a large Alice in Wonderland tattoo peeking out from under her three-quarter length sleeves. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear. Are you part of the Manor’s murder mystery game?” she asked hesitantly.
Mallory and Danior both nodded. Nana and Eve were still engrossed in their gossiping.
Smiling, the young woman said, “My name’s Geneviève. You run this place, right? It’s beautiful.”
“We do.”
“I came with my cousin but I’m meeting my boyfriend here, only I don’t see him.” She hesitated.
“Well, he’s not really my boyfriend, yet. We met online and this will be our first real date.”
“Oh, what a coincidence.” She shot Nana a dirty look, “And you chose to meet here during our first big murder mystery event.”
“Yes. I guess that seems kind of weird, huh? We’re both huge mystery fans. That’s kind of what drew us together.”
Nana smirked and disappeare
d with Eve. No doubt they were off to whisper some more about Mallory’s date. Apparently, everyone was entitled to know about him but Mallory.
“What’s your boyfriend’s name, Geneviève?” Mallory asked, turning her attention back to their blue-haired guest. “Dan or I can look at the front desk and see if he’s checked in yet.”
Geneviève grinned. “That’s okay, I’m sure he’ll be along any moment. I guess, as the owners, you guys play these mystery games all the time?”
Danior, who’d been lingering beside Mallory, shook her head. “No, not at all. We do themed events for groups but this is our first time playing a murder mystery game—that’s why we hired this outside company to run it. We’re amateurs compared to them, and now we get to experience it the way our guests do. If we like it, then we’ll add it to our package. What about you, have you played something like this before?”
“Never,” Geneviève said, “I’m looking forward to it though.”
Mallory noticed a muddied flash through the girl’s aura as she spoke. She was lying, either she had played before or she wasn’t looking forward to it.
Geneviève glanced down at her pocket, which was now vibrating, and her spine straightened. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you, but I think this might be my new mystery man calling. Tootaloo.”
Mallory watched her flit through the room only to disappear down the hall. There was something off about her. Oh, well. She was probably one of the actors. Mallory paused to examine the flatware, water cups, and napkin fans placed on the empty tables. Everything was polished to a high shine and precisely arranged.
Nothing more she could do here. Instead she searched the room to see if she could find her own mystery man. The front lounge room was full of people but there were only a handful of guys and none of them seemed to be on their own. Near the open pocket doors to the dining room, she could see a gentleman in glasses perusing the occult cabinet. He seemed fascinated by the wide array of paranormal antiques: Ouija boards, tarot cards, divining rods and ceramic palmistry hands. Was he her mystery date? He was a little too mature looking for her taste. Not that looks were everything but attraction was important.
Mallory decided that it couldn’t be him and wandered over to the large oil painting that hung on the wall above the fireplace. It showed three adults and seven children standing in front of a gypsy caravan—the same caravan that was now parked down by the beach. The determined face of her great-great-grandmother in the center of the portrait dominated the painting. The flesh tones of the oils were so realistic that Mallory could imagine the figures bursting free of the ornate wooden frame. A brass plate beneath the painting was etched with the words Horvath Family circa 1933.
Candy Canes, Corpses and the Gothic Haunt Page 16
