Murder, Ye Bones

by Rachael Stapleton

  The back entrance led through the library, which was cordoned off due to construction. It was a beautiful room if you overlooked the hole in the wall, with a scaled-down fireplace and walls covered in bookshelves. Ornate Victorian wallpaper in bright green and blue covered whatever wall space was left.

  Up a flight of stairs and down the hall, I was led to a room with a beautiful four poster bed. It was nice—light and airy despite the dark thick build of the furniture and the huge wooden ceiling fan. The French doors had louvered shutters that opened onto a wraparound veranda and next to that was a large wooden armoire which looked like something Tommy Bahama had thrown together. Boy, had I lucked out staying here. If only I had a hot policeman to curl up next to at night.

  “Come downstairs once you’ve freshened up.” Danior said, leaving me alone.

  I stripped down and hopped into the shower, letting the spray of hot water do a number on muscles achy from the early morning travel. In and out in a matter of minutes, I nevertheless felt refreshed, and thanks to the veranda doors I could feel a nice breeze circulating through the room as I buffed my body with a fluffy white towel.

  I brushed my teeth and pulled my red hair back into a high ponytail. Lip gloss, a swipe of mascara and a dusting of bronzer. I wanted to present a professional image even if I was amongst vacationers.

  Noise from the outside drew my attention. I quickly threw on a sundress and crossed the room to see what was happening.

  “I heard the ghost of the Plantation’s Voodoo Queen has been murdering tourists again!” A teenaged boy shouted with a relish that unsettled me. I peeked over the balcony’s rail and saw that the tour was on the porch below. The boy who’d spoken was about fourteen, and very sunburned. I could totally relate.

  “Now, Scottie…” His mother started. She was one of those women who’d overplucked her eyebrows for a decade and now penciled them in, giving her a sparse permanently shocked look completely appropriate for this occasion.

  One of the tour guides, a kinky-haired dishwater blonde in an antebellum costume standing hips-first, runway-model style at the head of the group, let out a soft laugh, and grinned wickedly. “I heard that too, Scottie dear.” She teased.

  “Izzy,” a brunette in a costume beside her said firmly, as she smoothed down the skirt of her satin costume. She was the opposite of her co-worker, possessing the characteristics I associated with a native Brazilian: curves, olive skin, dark hair.

  “Oh, lighten up, Alanza, tell us about the human sacrifices!” the girl beside Scottie—possibly his sister—called out. “I heard the Voodoo Queen was lynched for her troubles.”

  “Some say that, but legend has it that she faked her death and still lives today. If what they say is true then she would be eighty or ninety years old.” The dark-haired tour guide who was apparently named ‘Alanza,’ gained the silent stares of everyone on the porch. She smirked at the morbid kid. “Do you really think a little old lady could pull them off? Or better yet a ghost?”

  A few minutes later, the tour was over and the people were leaving.

  The blonde I’d heard referred to as Izzy snickered as soon as the last of the group had vamoosed.

  “That was great. Those little brats aren’t going to sleep for a week, imagining a ghostly voodoo priestess in their room. Oh, maybe we should dress up and scare them.”

  “Oh, Izzy. That’s not very nice, but what’s a ghost story without something scary and it is almost Halloween?” Alanza said smirking, and sinking onto the porch swing. “Plus, we didn’t make anything up.” She sighed. “But maybe next time, we should downplay the more shocking parts.”

  “What? Never. Hey, want to have dinner at Li Grand Zomb?”

  “Can’t. I promised Yasmin I’d stick around in case Adriano needed help. She’s paying me extra.”

  “How can you help Adriano? You’re not a contractor.”

  “No, just to like help with the grunt work. I think, she’s more worried he might hurt himself and have no one to call for help. You know how Adriano likes to work alone.”

  “Yeah, sure, but is he going to work all night?” Izzy asked.

  “No idea. All I know is I need the money and he’s tracing a leak in one of the walls.”

  Now would be a great time to ask them some questions. I hurried back inside the plantation and down the main staircase. As I rounded the last step, I saw tall windows covered by heavy gold-tasseled drapes that blocked the afternoon sun; muted Oriental rugs covered generous sections of the dark wood floor; vivid oil paintings lined the paneled walls; and plush armchairs invited weary visitors to linger by the massive carved fireplace. I couldn’t wait to read in this place. Every corner was inviting. Oh right, this wasn’t a real vacation.

  The girls had come back inside too and now stood in the front foyer. I poked my head out from around the corner, waiting for my chance to interrupt.

  “Just skip out for an hour and come join us. Adriano will be fine on his own here. You can be back in time to lock up and Yasmin will never have to know.” The blonde yawned. “I’m meeting Carlos, and the newbies: Danior and Emilion.”

  When Alanza started to reply, the blonde grabbed a parasol from behind the Plantation’s front desk and began to swing it wildly while mumbling to herself.

  Alanza scoffed. “What are you chanting? You sound crazy.”

  “There’s a black bird right there.”

  As if on cue, the bird swooped past me into the front hall and landed on a console table. I ducked back out of sight. It chirped and hopped about, then flew out the open front door.

  “Why are you freaking out over a little bird?”

  “Because a black bird trapped in a house is a sign of death.”

  “That’s nothing but hoodoo,” Alanza snorted.

  “It is not. It means death is lurking. It’s a bad sign.” The kinky dishwater blonde came around the corner and almost ran over me, squealing and jumping back. She was tall and thin, more striking than pretty. Her bright blue-green eyes were fixed on me.

  “Can we help you, miss?” she said in a quiet, high-pitched, almost baby-doll voice.

  I looked around, startled to have been caught eavesdropping. “Actually, yes.” I stumbled over my words. “I’m a private investigator, Penny Trubble. I’m looking into the disappearance of those locals that the kid mentioned and I was wondering if I could talk to you?”

  The other girl, Alanza, came into view, blushing. “Oh, sorry. Izzy and I didn’t mean to make light of the situation.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, reaching into my tote bag and handing her a picture of a pretty young blond.

  “Can you tell me if you recognize this girl?”

  “She was the girl who was coming to work here, right?” The blonde, Izzy, said. “Lise. We heard about her.”

  “Actually, no. This is another girl.”

  “Oh, right. The girl who was staying here. She went out with a group of kids for a bonfire and didn’t come back.”

  “That was a horrible week,” Alanza said softly.

  “Totally was… I had back to back shifts and no one was tipping?” Izzy said. Alanza frowned at the girl who blushed. “I meant to say, scary right? They look so much alike.”

  “They could be sisters,” Alanza agreed. She took her turn and stared at the picture and then handed it back.

  They were right. The girls really had been similar in appearance. The big bright eyes, the long blond hair with colorful highlights. Serial killers often had a type.

  Chapter Two

  _____________

  A fter my chat with Alanza and Izzy, I wandered through the house, discovering the combination bar and restaurant labeled as the Cabana Room. The walls were a combination of wood painted turquoise with bright-yellow accents, and heavily stained oak around the bars. Tables were all set up around a big dance floor and posters advertised blues and jazz bands. It seemed to serve all purposes, morning coffee shop, lunch café, and evening dinner and music club.

/>   After being served a delicious Spanish coffee, I headed out through the back to look for Danior and Emilion and stumbled over the Plantation’s proprietor instead.

  “Well, hello. It’s Yasmin Donazan, right?”

  Her dark hair was pulled back and mostly hidden under a ruby colored headwrap similar to the style Nana wore, only she had caramel highlights as opposed to Nana’s silver. She wore a tank top and jeans. And though she was petite with dark skin like Nana and Mallory—Yasmin’s eyes were the color of honey.

  “Can I help you? Her oversized hoop earrings swung as she spoke. “We’re doing some renovations on this side of the house.”

  “I was admiring the architecture,” I said. “It’s quite captivating. Eerily so.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I’m afraid I can’t take the credit though. It was eerie when I bought it.”

  I shook my head, then laughed. “Oh jeepers, I must sound like a weirdo. I’m Penny Trubble.”

  “Ms. Trubble, I should have realized. You look exactly as my cousin described,” she said.

  “Yasmin!” A man’s voice shouted from the direction of the library. He sounded disturbed. “Come on back here. I think you should see this.”

  Yasmin looked at me, surprised. “I don’t know a thing about construction. I haven’t a clue why he’s calling me.” Raising her voice, she added, “What is it, honey? I’m speaking with our new investigator.”

  “Come in here. I can’t hear you properly. I found bones in the wall—” he came out of the room as he mumbled and down the corridor. “Well…hey there, ma’am. I do apologize for shouting.”

  “Adriano! Meet Penny Trubble.”

  He wore khaki shorts and a light blue button-up shirt. He had a coffee stain on his shirt, right where his pec muscles strained at the buttons.

  I started to take his outstretched hand. It was large and dirty from working. I flinched, and Adriano pulled back just as our fingers touched, giving his hand a quick wipe on his shorts before resuming our greeting.

  “Sorry for interrupting, but as I said, I think you ladies should follow me," his eyes darted up and then back down.

  “Follow you?” Yasmin repeated blankly. “To see what, the bones of a dead squirrel again? No, thank you.”

  “No, Yasmin. Human bones.”

  Yasmin frowned but followed him, “The house was used as a mortuary,” she said turning back to me as we came to the room in question.

  “Well, I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure mortuaries weren’t supposed to wall up the dead,” Adriano exclaimed.

  Both Yasmin and I stared in shock. Sure enough, the man was right. He’d removed a large swath of drywall, revealing the top half of six bodies?

  Chapter Three

  _____________

  A fter the disturbing discovery in the library, I left Yasmin and Adriano to call the authorities and I headed out through the back to look for Danior and Emilion. I needed to get in touch with Daemon. This would make for an interesting development in the case although I doubted it had anything to do with the missing girls. The bones looked old.

  I followed the flagstone path under four connected archways dripping with fragrant jasmine blossoms and lush purple wisteria clusters. On the other end sat the carriage house, a scaled-down replica of the main house and off in the distance I saw a row of cabins, but no sign of my friends. After several minutes of fruitless searching I finally found Danior lazing in an Adirondack chair by the fire pit with a drink in her hand. She had headphones on and her dance music blaring. "Danior! There you are." I stepped around her legs, arching my eyebrows and tapping her.

  She jumped, and opened her unique eyes—one green, the other blue. "Hey, you're back," she shouted before pulling the headphones from her ears, “what took you so long?”

  "I couldn’t find you. The trees block this chair from the plantation. Where’s Emilion?"

  "He just went to show Daemon around.”

  “Good. I need to talk to that guy,” I looked in the direction of the house. “You’ll never guess what they just uncovered in the library wall.”

  “What?”

  “Bones.”

  Danior gave me a lopsided grin. “Was it another squirrel? Yasmin was none too pleased earlier when one almost fell out of the ceiling and onto her head."

  "No.” I glanced nervously back at the house. “These were human bones.”

  “Oh my goodness. Was it Lise?”

  “No, no. I don’t think so. I don’t know what tropical air shut up in a wall does to a body, but these people looked like they’ve been dead a lot longer than Lise has been missing. It’s weird though that they were hidden in the wall.”

  “That is gross. I wonder if there’s more. Ewe. What if there are more in the walls of our bedrooms?”

  “Well, that’s what I’m supposed to tell you. Yasmin wants us to move out of the main house and into the cabins until they can have a look. She’s transferring all guests from the main house until things are sorted out.”

  Chapter Four

  _____________

  A t the sound of approaching footsteps, I dropped my suitcase on the porch of my new cabin and glanced back to see a tall menacing man approaching in a Black Sabbath t-shirt and a bowler hat.

  “Well, hey there Trubble, you moving out already?”

  “Wraith. Isn’t it a little early in the day for leather and intimidation.”

  Daemon chuckled, a deep and hearty sound. He resembled every bad boy character there ever was—not that he was one. Quite the opposite. He was actually a sweetie, and a professor in addition to being a ghost hunter—he just embodied the spirit of the rebel. Tall, six foot four with long, wavy hair that started out dark but took on an ombre hue thanks to all the time spent in his native land of Hawaii.

  “No, just moving in, actually. I was staying at the main house but it seems they found some bones while renovating. Where are you staying?”

  “Next door,” he replied.

  “The Carriage House? Fancy.”

  “Right?! I figured they wanted me as far away as possible from the Main House. Turns out they just put me with the riff-raff.”

  “So it would seem. Danior and Emilion’s cabin is over there.”

  He nodded. “Can I help you with that bag?”

  “Why? Do you think I’m some sort of helpless female incapable of lifting my own luggage? I carried it all the way here.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a second, muscles. I was just being polite.”

  I gave him a wink and chucked it at him. “Yes, thanks, I’d love the help. Come on in, Yasmin’s on her way with tea and homemade banana bread. Try not to eat it all on me.”

  The small cabin, while sketchy on the outside, was impeccably kept on the inside. The furniture was antique and polished to a high shine—coffee tables, plush sofas and wingback chairs, a fireplace, and rows and rows of books.

  After taking the suitcase from Daemon and setting it at the foot of the bed, I returned to the living room. Yasmin had just come in and was already pouring tea. “I just don’t believe this,” she said to Daemon. “Or maybe I do. What a crazy day. Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Wraith, it’s not that Ilhabela is crime free. We come from a violent past but we’re a tourist town now—have been for years. We pride ourselves on being nice.”

  “Yasmin,” I said, sipping my tea, “it’s all right. It’s not your fault that the mortuary owner was hiding bodies so he could resell coffins.”

  “Yes, but for Adriano to have found them now, with that guest missing…” Yasmin’s words trailed off, and she shook her head sadly. “This will be bad for business. And now Lise has disappeared. Gah, that sounds selfish when your friend is missing. And anyway, you know all this, that’s why you’re both here.” She turned to Daemon who was devouring his slice of banana bread. Crumbs dotted his jeans. “So, I know the kind of case your company handles.” She was looking at him differently now. “Cases where there is a question of a ghost being involved? And well,
this is Ilhabela. We’re supposed to be overrun with spirits. Dozens of locals make their livings off the ghost trade.” She hesitated, eyes narrowing. “But... does this mean you think the girls are dead, Mr. Wraith? Do you plan to communicate with their spirits?”

  “Call me Daemon, please,” he told her. “Mr. Wraith makes me feel like the Grim Reaper in a suit. Anyway, I’d hate to make assumptions as of yet. Think of me more as Penny’s backup,” he said, smirking as he met my gaze.

  A small smile brightened her features as it did my own. Then she said, “Oh!” suddenly, and stood up as if she’d just remembered something. “You’ll have to excuse me, I need to make some calls. With the plantation’s kitchen and dining area now possibly out of commission, I’ll need to make arrangements for our guests with one of the other hotels or restaurants. In the meantime, Chef Dolly is serving lunch today in the games cabin: chicken soup and biscuits. I know it’s not much, but oh, this is such a nightmare.”

  Chapter Five

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  M y dive light illuminated the surrounding area as I methodically searched my assigned section. I had seen the grid, and I meant to search my assigned area thoroughly, leaving no possibility that anything had been overlooked. I found a tire rim about twenty feet below the surface under a tangle of seaweed. Not quite what we were looking for but then again did I really want to be the one to find the girl’s body?

  When Daemon had first mentioned the search dive, in a ridiculously exaggerated response to any mention of diving for bodies, my feet started to sweat and my intestines went soft and rumbly. It wasn’t my first choice in reflexes, but one I carried with me ever since I found a dead guy in Bohemian Lake. Okay, so ever since I found animal bones in the lake, but I really did find a dead body after that so the trauma was real.

  I looked at my compass, then up through the filter of light to the cable from the police cruiser serving as our dive boat. In my opinion, if anything was going to be found, it was going to be closer to the shore. Unless, of course, our missing girls had been dumped by a boater somewhere beyond the ocean and out in the Atlantic. If that was the case, our chances of finding them were almost nonexistent. The ocean was huge.