“Did you ever talk to your Dad about Inez?” Autumn asked, as if she was reading his mind.
Liam sighed. “Talking to my dad is . . . difficult. He’s in rehab.” They stopped in front of the Cayo. All the guests must had gone out for the night, except for Mr. Fletcher, whose room was illuminated from the street. “That’s what I didn’t want to tell you before. My dad is a drunk. He crashed a truck into a tree and almost killed himself. I had to check him into rehab, or he’d be in jail right now.”
Autumn squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry about your dad, but I’m glad you told me.”
“I’m glad I told you too. I’ll try calling him. He might know something about Inez.”
She offered him a reassuring smile. “We’ll get down to the bottom of this.”
Liam smiled too. “I like how you say ‘we.’”
“Well, I don’t want Inez hurting my man, now do I?” Her grin broadened.
Liam laughed and then came in close. “I’d like to kiss you now.”
Autumn giggled. “Are you asking to be polite?”
“I’m not asking.” Liam’s heart pounded as he tipped his head down and kissed Autumn on the mouth. She leaned against him and he slipped his hands into her hair. Unfortunately, the moment was disrupted by a blood-curling scream.
#
“Crap.” Autumn pulled away from Liam. “Did that come from the Cayo?”
Liam put a protective arm around Autumn, which warmed her despite the chilling scream. “I think it did.”
“Inez!” Autumn cried and she sprinted down the path and into the Cayo, Liam right on her heels.
Autumn flung open the door and hurried into the lobby. Glenda rested against the reception desk, fanning herself with a brochure for a booze cruise. Timothy stood beside her, urging her to take a sip of water.
“What the hell is going on?” Autumn’s panic rose despite Timothy’s obviously bemused expression.
“A chicken exploded,” he said matter-of-factly.
Autumn blinked in rapid succession, trying to register his words. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Timothy put his hands on his hips. “I said, a chicken exploded.”
“Like in the oven?”
Timothy pointed to the patio. Autumn and Liam both turned their gaze outside. But Autumn didn’t need clarification when she spotted a red, bloody glob on the patio door glass.
She swallowed hard. “I better go outside.”
“I’m coming with you,” Liam said.
Autumn opened the sliding door, careful not to further disturb the bloody mass on the glass. She got a whiff of an odor, which she could only assume was raw chicken meat, and decided to breathe through her mouth.
Evelyn was sitting in one of the plastic patio chairs, her face drained of color. Red splotches covered her white Capri pants, like a Jackson Pollack painting. Mr. Fletcher rested his hand on her shoulder, but he removed it once he saw Autumn. Cora, in her blue floral dress with black braids coiled up on her head like a turban, hovered near her mother. It was odd for Autumn to see Cora outside of the kitchen. Even more odd that she was waving a small purple stone all over the patio.
“Mom, are you okay?”
Evelyn’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “I only came outside to shoo away the chicken. It got into the yard through the hole in the fence, and I didn’t want it getting into the pool. I was afraid of something happening to it. I took the broom from the shed and tried to coax it back over.” Her voice was on the edge of a sob, and Autumn bent down to squeeze her mom’s shoulders. “The poor thing exploded. I don’t know how that happened.”
Mr. Fletcher cleared his throat. “I’ve never heard of anything like this.”
“It’s that evil spirit.” Cora brandished her amulet over the concrete.
Evelyn put her face in her hands. “We’re ruined. When the guests come back, they’re going to see this and flee. I tried calling the police, but they’re too busy with Fantasy Fest to investigate a report about an exploding chicken.” She began to laugh hysterically.
“Mom, go inside and get cleaned up.” Autumn surveyed the patio. “Liam and I will hose everything down. The guests are all gone. They’re here to party and drink. I doubt they’ll realize what happened. We’ll get bleach and no one will know.”
“I’ll help,” said Mr. Fletcher.
Evelyn stood on shaky legs. “Oh no. We can’t have you do that. You’re a guest.”
“It’s the least I can do for all the hospitality you’ve shown me. Go to your room and rest. You’ve been traumatized.”
Evelyn, her face still pale, sputtered.
“I insist,” Mr. Fletcher said.
Autumn escorted her mother to the lobby. Aunt Glenda and Timothy left, presumably to the kitchen for tea to calm Glenda’s nerves. “I’m going to get plastic bags and gloves and bleach. You go to bed.”
Evelyn nodded. “Thank you, Autumn. You’re a good girl. I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time about Goombay.”
“That’s okay,” Autumn said.
“But, just to be safe, I’d really like it if you stayed here for the remainder of Fantasy Fest. Just until things get back to normal. Such a freak accident.”
But Autumn knew it had not been an accident. It had been Inez. The appearance of Katie in the lobby confirmed it.
“She’s evil.” Katie’s eyes were dark hollows. “Tonight a chicken. Tomorrow, a person.”
Autumn gave Katie a not-now nod even as goosebumps erupted along her flesh. “Sure, Mom,” Autumn said. “I’ll be here for you.”
Evelyn smiled weakly and retreated upstairs to her room. But Autumn knew the safest place in Key West was anywhere but the Cayo Hueso Dead and Breakfast.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The following morning, Liam rested against his scooter in the parking lot of the Cuban Coffee Queen while he sipped his latte. He and Autumn had been up late scrubbing chicken guts off the patio. It had been a gory, gross mess, and Liam was pretty certain he wouldn’t be eating poultry for a long time.
Liam caught a few hours of sleep only to be woken up by the buzzing of his cell phone—a text from Randall asking him to meet him on the corner of Thompson and South Street. He got up, showered, and threw on cargo shorts and a blue shirt, a gift from Victoria, who said the blue brought out the turquoise in his eyes, and stopped for coffee.
He sipped his coffee, which only heightened his nervousness. Usually, the warm liquid, even on a hot morning, relaxed him—but not today. He finished the beverage and tossed the empty cup into the trash. Then he hopped on his scooter and sped down Margaret Street, dodging lively tourists, to meet Randall at his cousin’s house.
Liam pulled up in front of a one-story white bungalow with green trim and dismounted from his bike. He carried his helmet under his arm. He’d never been to Keith’s house before and proceeded with caution until Randall appeared from around the corner and waved Liam around back.
Liam followed Randall into a small rocky area.
“I figured you’d be up when I buzzed,” Randall said, his voice almost a slur.
“I wasn’t up. Have you been drinking?” Liam’s face colored when he realized how judgmental he sounded. “Forget I asked.”
“Nah, it’s cool.” Randall removed a key from the pocket of his ratty board shorts. “I was partying on Keith’s boat last night. I guess I still haven’t sobered up.”
Liam scanned the yard. Both he and Randall stood in front of a white outbuilding, only slightly smaller than Randall’s trailer. The outbuilding was painted white, to match the house Liam presumed, but the wooden slats were unevenly spaced. Only one window, no bigger than a placemat, had Plexiglas and shimmered in the morning light. Next to the building, Liam spied a broken kitchen chair, a wire trellis, and random cardboard boxes. “So, this is Keith’s house?”
“Yup. He owns it, free and clear,” said Randall.
Liam never understood why men like Keith and Randall’s granddad would hold
on to valuable Key West property rather than sell it, especially since they all needed the money. Then again, Key West was home, and if you could live here, why wouldn’t you?
Randall opened the shed’s rickety door. He glanced around the yard and then beckoned for Liam to follow him.
Liam swallowed a lump in his throat. After the incident at the Cayo, Liam was wary of sheds in general, but he pushed aside his fear and followed Randall inside.
Liam immediately tried to cut through the humidity with his hand. “Dude, you should take off that Plexiglas.”
“No way, man,” said Randall. “I don’t want to risk anyone snooping and stealing these bad boys.”
Liam scanned the row of scooters. Somehow, Randall and Keith managed to stuff fifteen bikes inside the narrow space. “So, this is our fleet?”
“This is our fleet,” Randall said proudly.
Liam crouched to inspect one of the bikes. He ran his finger over scratches in the paint and checked out another bike. More scratches. Each bike had a one-inch square space where the paint was faded. As if some plate had been removed.
“Don’t worry. Keith has a buddy who works at a body shop. He’s going to sand down the dents and repaint the bikes all the same color. This way, they look like they belong to our shop.”
Liam wanted to ask more about how the bikes got the scratches, but Randall pulled color swatches from his pocket.
“These were the two I liked best.”
Liam frowned. This was supposed to be a partnership, but he was being presented with only two color options. One blue and one orange. Liam’s annoyance crept in.
“I’m partial to Midnight Blue myself.” Randall tapped the little card stock. “But I’ll defer to you, dude.”
Liam read the name on the orange swatch and made a decision. “I like Autumn Afternoon best.”
Randall playfully elbowed Liam in the arm. “I figured you would.” Randall took the color swatches back and slid them in his pocket. He ushered Liam out of the sweltering hot box and closed the door, making sure to secure the lock with a key.
“Listen, I’m going to need five hundred dollars from you for the paint job,” Randall said.
Liam balked. “I don’t have five hundred of anything. I gave you all my money.”
Randall sighed. “Dude, this whole business idea was yours, and you have no cash to bankroll it? Keith’s already put up double his share.”
“Sorry, dude. I’m trying as best I can. I sold a piece of my grandmother’s jewelry to get this started. I can see about picking up a second job.”
Randall rested his hand on Liam’s shoulder, but Liam shook him off.
“Don’t be like that. We’re buds. Amigos.”
“I’ll figure it out.” Liam made his way toward the street where his scooter was parked.
“Please do, bro,” Randall called out. “I’d hate to see you pushed out.”
#
That same morning, Autumn rolled over in bed and smiled. At one point, she’d had a delicious dream that she could not remember, but she thought Liam was in it. She wiped sweat from her chest and noticed the familiar hum of the air conditioner was silent.
Katie popped in, interrupting Autumn’s good mood. Autumn squinted at the ghost, who was hardly visible in the bright sunlight streaming through the windows.
“I can barely see you,” Autumn said.
“I barely feel like I’m here,” Katie whispered.
“What time is it?”
“Not even eight. Your mother is already downstairs, waiting for you.”
“Of course she is. God, it’s Saturday. And I spent all of last night hosing chicken guts off the concrete. You’d think I could get some rest.” Autumn stretched and went over to the air conditioner. She smacked it several times. “Stupid machine. Today of all days.” Autumn felt clammy and damp in her pajamas. “I’m going to shower. Then I’ll report for duty.” She gave Katie a mock salute, but Katie said nothing. Poor girl. She used to think that was funny. Before she could chastise the ghost for her loss of humor, Katie had disappeared.
Autumn entered the bathroom. The cool tiles soothed her bare feet. She twisted the showerhead. Usually, it took a few minutes for the old pipes to deliver hot water to the attic space. Autumn put her hand under the water to gauge the temperature. She yelped. The water was scalding. Autumn fussed with the faucet, trying to lower the temperature. But even on the coldest setting, the water did not cool. Steam filled the bathroom and fogged up the mirrors.
Autumn wrapped her hand in the plastic shower curtain to turn off the scalding water. When she turned around, there were words written in the steamy mirror. Come and get me.
Autumn steeled her eyes. “I will. Don’t you worry.”
#
Autumn hustled downstairs in a pair of terry cloth shorts and a peach tank top. Her mother would not approve, but without a shower, she didn’t see the need to put on anything nice. She halted when she saw a middle-aged and slightly overweight couple, coated head to toe in blue body paint and not much else. Correction, they had strategically placed leaves covering their private parts. There goes my appetite.
Evelyn faced the couple, her features a mask of control. “I’m terribly sorry. I’ll get on the phone to the plumber as soon as we’re done.”
The man shook his head. “I think I could settle for cold water, but that water temperature is likely to scald someone. They’ll have a good mind to sue.”
“What room are you in Mr. . . ?” Evelyn asked.
“Mr. Emerson. And it’s the July room. I have to wash off this blue paint. It’s getting itchy.” He scratched his butt cheek.
“Of course.” Evelyn whispered to Autumn, “Please notify the guests that we are fixing this right away.”
Autumn wanted to protest, but one look from her mother, and she was running back upstairs. She knocked on the door to the February room. A man in a goatee opened it. He scratched his hairy chest and smiled at Autumn a bit too friendly. “Aren’t you a nice wake-up call?”
Autumn stepped back. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but we’re having problems with the water. My mom has called the plumber.”
The man grinned. Autumn suspected he was still drunk. She peeked around him and saw a naked woman in his bed. Autumn wasn’t positive, but she thought the woman was wearing fish scales. “No worries. Wake me before dark.” He closed the door in Autumn’s face.
Autumn woke up most of the guests. And most of them appeared to be intoxicated.
Last, she knocked on Mr. Fletcher’s door. As expected, he was dressed, but he still hadn’t shaved. “Everything okay?”
After seeing practically a dozen naked bodies, Autumn felt relieved the man was in clothes. “There’s a problem with the water. It’s boiling. Mom’s on the phone with the plumber, but I just came to warn you.”
“I showered just a minute ago.”
“You did? And your skin isn’t peeling off?”
He chuckled. “No. My water wasn’t hot. It was cold. And pretty refreshing.”
“Well that’s odd. Everyone else has scalding water.”
Mr. Fletcher shrugged. “Maybe the plumber will be able to figure it out.”
“Maybe.” But Autumn wasn’t convinced.
After an emergency weekend visit, which cost Evelyn $125 an hour, hour-and-a-half minimum, the plumber concluded someone turned the hot water heater up as high as it could go. As for Mr. Fletcher’s cold water, the plumber just scratched his head and said he couldn’t understand how that happened.
#
Liam parked his scooter outside the Cayo. But before he could take off his helmet, Autumn came running out to greet him.
He smiled, but his smile dropped once he saw Autumn’s exhausted expression and limp hair.
“What’s the matter? Everything okay?”
Autumn exhaled. “Mom said to tell you not to come in today. She had to pay a plumber and she can’t afford to pay you too. I meant to text you, but I was running aroun
d.”
Liam slouched a bit. “Okay.” It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “What about later this week?”
Autumn nodded. “She said Tuesday.”
Tuesday was several days away. It sucked not to see Autumn for that long. “I wanted to talk to you about your birthday?”
“What about it?”
“I’d like to take you out,” he said. “To celebrate.”
“It’s a week away. Hopefully, things will calm down by then.” Autumn bit her lip and looked back at the Cayo. “I gotta go around the corner to the hardware store and pick up putty. The plumber ran out.”
“I’ll get it for you,” he said, hoping to prolong their time together.
“It’s fine. I’ll do it. If you do it, then my mom will feel like you’re working, and she’ll consider you on the clock. And . . .”
“I get it. No worries.” His face softened. “We’ll talk later.”
Autumn nodded, and Liam watched her run around the corner. He waited a few moments before he turned the key in the ignition and sped toward Duval.
With an unexpected day off and his stomach growling, Liam drove to Caroline Street for mahi tacos from the food truck. While waiting in line behind a woman wearing robot body paint, Liam heard a familiar voice call his name. How was it possible in a sea of thousands of costumed tourists, she always managed to find him?
Liam slowly turned around and let out an annoyed breath. “Victoria.”
She flicked a strand of blonde hair over her shoulder and smoothed down her red sequined bikini top. She wore a less revealing skirt with it. “I always thought you avoided Fantasy Fest, but I’ve seen you twice now.”
“I was hungry,” said Liam as if that were reason enough. “And I thought you’d be on Sunset Key avoiding the crowds like you do every year.”
“Grandma organized a diamond necklace raffle for charity at the Southernmost Beach Cafe later in the week. She’s meeting her auxiliary ladies to finalize details.”
“That’s cool she volunteers for stuff like that.” Liam meant what he said. He’d always liked Victoria’s grandmother.
Victoria shrugged. “She’s nice like that.”
“You could be nice like that.”
Dead and Breakfast Page 17
