Make the Ghost of It (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 3): (Ghost Cozy Mystery series)

by Morgana Best

  “How are you, Basil?” I asked, trying to mask the amount of concern in my voice. I couldn’t imagine how hard these last few days must have been for him.

  “I’m not great, to be honest.” He sighed. “I’m the primary suspect, and for good reason. I was the only other person up there, except the pilot, of course – but he was obviously a little bit too busy flying the plane to…” He swallowed. “To kill Lewis. I’ve been in questioning, and it’s been awful. Obviously, they haven’t hurt me or anything, but they’ve tried everything they can that’s legal. It’s been painful, but at least they’ve let me go for now. There just wasn’t enough evidence to convict me, I suppose.”

  “That’s shocking,” I exclaimed. I just wanted to hug him, but restrained myself.

  “I’ll be off the hook if they find some DNA in the parachute,” Basil continued.

  “DNA? But there wasn’t any blood or anything.”

  “They explained it to me,” Basil said. “It’s called Touch DNA. They only need about eight skin cells. They’ve taken my DNA and if they find someone else’s DNA inside the chute and not mine, that will discount me as a suspect.”

  “Well I sure hope whoever it was wasn’t wearing gloves when they did it,” I said.

  “It would have to be quite a stupid person not to, sadly.” Basil looked upset.

  I had to agree. I thought it was highly likely that whoever murdered Lewis had worn gloves when they sabotaged his parachute.

  I smiled at him warmly, trying to raise his spirits. I figured coffee would do him good—coffee is good for anything—and poured him a cup as soon as it was ready. I knew it was upsetting him and that he was sick of talking about it, but I needed to know more about what happened to Lewis.

  “Do you have any idea what happened?” I asked.

  Basil considered for a moment before answering. “Not entirely, no, though I know Lewis jumped out earlier than he should have. He wanted to show off, I think. You probably noticed that he was more than a little competitive.” He raised an eyebrow at me and I stifled a laugh.

  “More than a little, yes,” I replied, thinking back to when I’d met him.

  “Well, I think that’s why he jumped early. He hadn’t seemed nervous or upset about anything. Honestly, though, he was a very skilled skydiver. He wasn’t lying about that. Though I’m the better accountant.” Basil shot me a genuine smile as he said it, but there was still a very real sadness in his eyes. I hadn’t liked Lewis much, but he certainly didn’t deserve what happened. I wasn’t sure that anybody did.

  Basil rested his head in his palms. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t prove that it wasn’t me, and I obviously don’t have an alibi since I was with him in the plane. I…” The bell rang before Basil could finish, and he looked up at me.

  I sighed. “I’ll be back in a second.” I was in the middle of a tender and important moment, which meant the visitor could only be one person.

  “Hi, Mom.” I said, forcing a smile as I opened the door. “Hello, Ian.”

  “Hello, Laurel,” they quite creepily said in unison. “Are you inviting us in for a coffee?” my mother asked.

  No, I thought, but you’ve invited yourself anyway. Aloud, I said, “Sure, come in. Basil is here at the moment, and I’ve just run the machine through, so your coffee should be quicker than usual.”

  “Hello, Thelma, Ian,” Basil said as we all entered the room. His tone had become considerably harsher, and it was clear that he didn’t like either of them. It was no wonder. They hadn’t exactly given him a reason to be friendly. Still, I liked to avoid drama where I could, so I tried to defuse the tension a bit.

  “Would you like coffee as well, Ian?” I asked, desperate to start a conversation of some kind. I detested awkward silences, but I was certain there’d be many to come if I couldn’t keep the conversation flowing.

  “Yes, thank you.” Ian sat down.

  “How are you doing, Basil?” Mom asked him, sounding genuinely concerned.

  “I’m okay, thank you, Thelma. Though I think I might still be in shock.” He took a long drink of his coffee after he spoke, seemingly to avoid further conversation on the topic.

  “If you don’t mind my saying so,” Mom said, “it seems clear that God has taken Lewis before his time because he was too pure for our corrupt world. He’s gone to a much better place.”

  Somehow, Mom’s wise words didn’t seem to put Basil at ease.

  We sat and spoke for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only an hour. Basil was very civil, but it was easy to see that he was restless and upset—easy for me, at least, but apparently not for Ian or my mother. They continued to prod him with questions about Lewis and the case before imparting their wisdom regarding God’s plan for the world. Basil managed to sit through the whole thing without so much as flipping the table, though I’m not sure I could have done the same had our positions been reversed.

  “Well, we’d better get going,” Mom said as she stood up.

  I wanted to say, “It’s a miracle!” but somehow restrained myself. Basil and I said our goodbyes to Ian and Mom, and went back to the kitchen, where I made us each another coffee.

  “Sorry I don’t have a stronger drink,” I said, and Basil responded with laughter, despite it not being a joke.

  “I’m glad they’re gone,” Lewis announced.

  I very nearly spilled my coffee as Basil and I jumped out of our seats. “How long have you been here?” I asked angrily.

  “Longer than I’d like.” Lewis shot me his trademark creepy smile and walked over to the table. “She wouldn’t shut up about God’s grand plan, would she? Not everybody loves me, but I’m not sure God had a reason to assassinate me.”

  I sighed dramatically, but it occurred to me to ask. “Do you know who would have a reason to assassinate you?”

  Lewis considered for a moment before replying. “As a matter of fact, yes, I think I do. I mean, I’m an auditor, right? And I’m a real good one.” Lewis took a moment to flash us a smile before he continued. “Or was, rather.” His smile vanished, but he continued. “I was auditing one of the largest accounting firms in Australia, It’s Accrual World.” He paused for dramatic effect, but I had no idea what was going on. Lewis seemed rather put out. “It’s a funny name, right?” he asked.

  “I don’t get it,” I admitted.

  “I know the company and I do get the joke, only it just isn’t funny,” Basil said dryly. “It’s a play on the words accrue and cruel.”

  I still didn’t get it, but I forced a smile. He went on to explain what accrue meant, but I stared into the distance and wondered where my next chocolate fix was coming from.

  Lewis frowned. “Fair enough, I suppose. Laurel, It’s Accrual World is one of Australia’s biggest firms. The name is much funnier if you’re into accounting. Probably. Anyway, I’ll get to the point.” He took a deep breath—something I wasn’t sure ghosts needed to do—before continuing. “I was auditing the company, as I mentioned, when I found evidence of embezzlement. Somebody was embezzling huge amounts of money, and I do mean huge amounts, from the company’s trust fund. I called the head of the firm to tell him about it the night before I went skydiving.” Lewis took on a much more serious tone when he mentioned the head of the firm, and it was the first time I’d seen him behave seriously.

  “In hindsight, I shouldn’t reveal massive fraud before participating in dangerous activities, but hindsight is fifty-fifty, as they say,” Lewis joked, and I realized he was, for better or worse, back to his usual self.

  “Do you really think he’s responsible for your death?” Basil asked.

  Lewis considered for a moment. “I can’t say for certain, of course, but it seems likely. I know you didn’t do it, Basil, because I’m much too smart for you to kill me.” He smiled directly at Basil as he teased him. “But also because you really had no motive, outside of Laurel clearly falling for me.” He winked at me when he spoke, and I found it a lot less amusing than he did.
“I also can’t think of anybody else with means and motive. This guy could’ve paid to have me killed thirty times over and gotten away with it. He was seriously rich even before he’d stolen a ridiculous amount of money.”

  I mulled it over. This man didn’t sound like the sort of person I would want as an enemy, but I supposed that I didn’t really want anybody as an enemy. We all talked for several more minutes, but it seemed as though the clues had dried up. We would need to do some investigating of our own to get to the bottom of Lewis’s murder. I was worried that Basil was still Number One Suspect in the eyes of the police.

  Chapter 7

  I took a long, slow sip of my coffee and set it back down on the table.

  “How is it?” Tara asked me.

  “It’s amazing! I forgot how good the coffee here was,” I replied, smiling. Tara and I had decided to catch up. Given all that had happened recently, finding the time to do something simple and relaxing was difficult. We’d talked on the phone and through texts, but there was something a lot nicer about talking in person. Plus, there was coffee.

  “Yeah, it’s great. We haven’t done this in a while.” Tara paused to take a sip before continuing. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

  “Oh, geez, I don’t even know where to begin.” I sighed. While we had been talking for a long time, I’d kept all of the crazy recent events in my life under wraps. I wanted to tell her, and had planned to do so, but doing it over the phone didn’t seem right, considering how dramatic and important it all was.

  “Maybe from the beginning?” Tara teased.

  I laughed, and thought about it a bit more. “All right, sure. You know Basil?”

  “Of course I know Basil, you twit. You don’t shut up about him.”

  I laughed again, realizing I couldn’t refute her point. “Fair enough, but we kissed.” As I said it, Tara’s mouth dropped open.

  “What!” she yelled, causing all the customers at the cafe to stare at us. “How could you not tell me this until now? When was it? I swear it had better have been while you were on the way here.”

  “It was the night before Lewis Lowes was killed. It feels like longer, though. More than that’s happened.”

  Tara tapped impatiently on the table as I took another drink before I continued. “He visited me with his friend from college, Lewis. Well, they went skydiving together and...” I paused and Tara looked at me worryingly.

  “And what, Laurel?”

  “That was the guy who died, the one whose parachute didn’t open.”

  Tara clasped her hand to her mouth. “Oh, gosh.” She seemed genuinely shocked. “Do you know how that happened? Was he an amateur?”

  “No, just the opposite; he’d had plenty of experience. Nobody’s quite sure how, though Janet said she was told that his parachute wasn’t packed properly. Those detectives who are investigating have Basil as a suspect. Didn’t Duncan tell you?”

  Tara was completely taken aback. “No, not about Basil. I mean, the whole town knows about the skydiving accident, of course, but Duncan didn’t tell me that Basil is suspect. Have you talked to the ghost?” Tara was the only one, apart from Basil, who knew I could talk to ghosts.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “So what does he think happened?”

  “You need to promise me that you won’t tell anybody this.” I said in a near-whisper. Tara nodded calmly. “Lewis was auditing a company, It’s Accrual World.” When I mentioned the name, Tara looked like she was trying to force a smile. “No, it’s okay; the name isn’t funny,” I assured her, at which she seemed somewhat relieved. “Anyway, Lewis called the head of the company and exposed massive embezzlement fraud the night before he died.”

  “I don’t mean to sound rude, but why on earth would he decide to make a powerful enemy before he went skydiving?” Tara asked.

  “He didn’t actually know that the head of the company was the one responsible. Actually, nobody knows if that’s even the case yet. He might have just been protecting whoever was responsible for the theft, or it could even be a coincidence.”

  Tara looked concerned. “I’m sorry all this has happened, Laurel. How’s Basil holding up through it all?”

  “He’s not doing too well, honestly. On top of his friend dying, he’s still a suspect, the prime suspect, really. He was the only person up there with him before the accident, except the pilot, but he couldn’t have done anything.” I cupped my head in my hands, thinking it was about time for another coffee or three.

  “But you said that the detectives think that maybe his parachute was tampered with?” Tara raised an eyebrow as she asked me.

  “Yes, and if that’s the case it could really be anybody.” I sighed, before excusing myself to get up and order another coffee. When I returned, I found Tara in deep thought.

  “Parachutes have a failsafe, right? In case it doesn’t open the first time?” Tara asked me.

  “Yes,” I replied. “And it failed too, which is apparently extremely rare.”

  Tara nodded. “Which is why the detectives suspect foul play, I suppose. Especially since you mentioned that he was a skilled parachutist.” Tara leaned back in her chair. “This is all a bit above my pay grade. I was expecting tales of your latest romantic conquest, not murder conspiracies.”

  “Sorry, Tara.” I said earnestly. I felt bad about rambling about it, but I’d needed to get it off my chest. So much had happened, and I hadn’t really spoken to anybody but Basil about it. A thought occurred to me. “You probably suspect Basil, at least a little bit, huh?”

  “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t,” Tara admitted. “I don’t really know him, Laurel, and he was the only other person on the plane. I believe you if you say he didn’t do it, though.”

  “Basil can clear his name if they find somebody else’s DNA on the parachute,” I explained.

  “But why would the killer’s DNA be on the parachute in the first place? It’s not like they bled on it.” Tara looked confused as she asked, and I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

  “I asked exactly the same thing, but Basil explained it to me. Apparently it’s called Touch DNA, and they only need a few skin cells to get a match. If somebody else’s DNA is on there, they might stop suspecting Basil entirely.”

  “But what if the killer wore gloves?” Tara asked.

  “Exactly what I said when Basil explained it to me. Unfortunately, we don’t know yet.”

  “We’ve found ourselves talking about murder again, Laurel.” Tara smirked.

  “Sorry,” I admitted. “I shouldn’t be talking about it anyway. It’s just nice to get it off my chest.”

  “No, it’s fine. I didn’t mean it like that. I just want to change the subject to something a little bit cheerier before you make me kidnap and interrogate the CEO of a company.” Tara laughed.

  “Oh, no, nothing so cunning.” I smiled. “I was just going to attack him in his office and hope for the best.”

  Tara laughed again. “Well, how about…” Before she could finish, Tara was cut off by what sounded like a thousand cows mooing. I clapped my hands over my ears and looked outside.

  I’d imagined that the noise could have only come from some kind of otherworldly banshee, and I wasn’t too far off. Outside was my mother, standing next to Ian, singing gospel songs. Then again, calling it ‘singing’ was somewhat of a stretch.

  I buried my head in my hands. Ian and Mom did this around town on occasion. The only sane explanation would be that they were trying to raise money for some kind of charitable organization, but they wouldn’t accept money even if people were willing to pay. Mom had always adamantly stood by the idea that they were showing strangers the voice of God. I figured they were definitely converting people, just probably not to the side that they wanted.

  “That’s your mother, isn’t it?” Tara asked sympathetically, her eyes wide with shock.

  I resisted the urge to run away from the café, but only because it would mean passing by Mom and Ian. “Y
es, it is,” I admitted. “I don’t know why she does this, it’s embarrassing enough when she’s in public and isn’t singing.”

  I overheard a couple at a nearby seat talking. “What on earth is that horrible sound?”

  “It’s those two outside. That old lady and the little guy.”

  I would’ve have found that funny if I hadn’t been so annoyed and upset about it all. I thought about asking if this café had a back door. The couple continued to talk about Mom and Ian, as did everyone else in the café, but I made an effort not to listen.

  I saw a man at the back of the cafe stand up and walk toward the door.

  “Pastor Green!” I exclaimed, jumping out of my seat.

  “Oh, hello, Laurel.” He smiled warmly. “I suppose you didn’t come here to spread the screech of God?”

  I laughed. Pastor Green was a very nice man, but even he was pushed to his limit by my mother. “No, I’m here having coffee. I didn’t notice you there or I would have invited you over.”

  “I didn’t notice you either, but the feeling is mutual. Excuse me, though, Laurel. I need to get outside and stop them from scaring away potential Church-goers.” He smiled and walked outside.

  I sat back down opposite Tara and watched the whole event unfold. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the noise cut out as soon as he started talking to the pair and never resumed. After a few minutes Pastor Green watched them leave, and as Mom walked past the window, I noticed she looked a bit put out. Ian didn’t look as perturbed, but I suspected he was just waiting for my mother to tell him how to feel.

  Pastor Green entered and walked over to the counter, before ordering another coffee and sitting down at the table with us.

  “She cited Psalm 104:33,” the pastor said as he sat down. “I had to explain to her that she didn’t literally have to sing the Lord’s praises.” He laughed. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

  “Not at all,” I said, looking at Tara.

  “Oh, no, that’s fine,” she said, smiling at Pastor Green.