THE SPIRIT IN QUESTION

by Cynthia Kuhn

  He took some pictures with his phone, and we carefully wrapped the items back up, using some plastic we borrowed from the prop room to keep them separated in the blue bag.

  “I wish Bella had been here,” I said. “But I didn’t want to bring her on a wild-goose chase if my dream had turned out to be nothing.”

  “You mean sometimes they don’t turn out to be true?” He grinned.

  “I have a very respectable ratio,” I said, elbowing him.

  “She’ll be grateful to have them,” Lex said. “And if Bella decides to sell them, she’ll be set for life.”

  “Would you like some more, Lila?” Bella inquired, holding a pot decorated with violets over my cup. She had invited Lex and me to the Historical Society for tea. Almost two weeks had passed since the play—somewhat shockingly deemed a success by all who reviewed it—had closed.

  “Yes, please.”

  She poured the steaming liquid into the delicate cup and settled back on the velvet settee. I said no to her offer of sugar and milk and took a sip.

  “How’s your head, Bella?” I asked.

  She touched the bruise on her forehead, which had faded to an almost-imperceptible light blue. “I’ve been thinking about it. Just idly, really.” Bella set her jaw. “I’m not going to let her take up too much space in my brain. But she didn’t care if I died, and that’s kind of hard to process. She even nailed the door shut after she hit me and shoved me in the stairwell!”

  “She did. I heard the banging after you screamed. Though I didn’t know it was you screaming.”

  “I was already out by then. Went down hard, like someone had shot me with a tranquilizer gun. I didn’t wake up until you’d come back. Thank you for coming back, Lila.”

  “The top of the staircase had also been nailed shut. She must have done it earlier,” Lex informed us. “She planned it all.”

  Chip plunked his cup onto the saucer, sloshing tea onto the elegant coffee table, and winced. “Oops, sorry Bel. I’m so not a tea guy.”

  She laughed and mopped up the spill with a lace napkin. “Don’t worry, honey.”

  He picked up one of the dainty cucumber sandwiches from his plate and took a bite. His mouth twisted in displeasure, but he said nothing.

  She watched him fondly. “It’s an acquired taste.”

  “Well,” he said, brushing crumbs from his hands, “I’ll work on it.”

  Bella faced us and said, “Anyway, we have news.”

  “Did you get married?” I guessed.

  “No, but that’s on the agenda,” Chip said, beaming at his fiancée. “This spring.”

  “How exciting,” I said.

  Bella clasped her hands together. “We found my parents. I mean, we found Althea and Camden.”

  “Online?” I asked, elated. “Did they change their names?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry to say that they aren’t alive. They were still in the Opera House.”

  “What?” Lex and I both said at the same time.

  “Remember how you said something, Lila, about how the secret stairwell must have been added on later? That stuck with me for some reason. Plus, the floor was higher than in the dressing room, which didn’t make any sense. We did some research and there was no permit pulled for the addition of a staircase.”

  “So I got my crew to dig up a little bit of the floor,” Chip interjected. “Experimentally.”

  “—and they found them. In two different layers of concrete. Their skeletons. I mean, we’re having the tests done to confirm it, but who else could it be?”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “Thank you. I am too. I had hoped against hope that they might be living on a beach somewhere, but at least we know.”

  “When did this happen?” Lex asked, frowning. “I didn’t hear anything about it.”

  “This morning,” Chip said. “Right before you got here, we received the call from my foreman. They probably called the police while you were driving over. I’m sure you’ll be brought in soon.”

  Lex rearranged himself on the chair but, to his credit, did not immediately pull out his cell phone. I knew he’d be checking it the second we walked outside.

  “For the record, I will never again claim Malcolm as my father,” she said. “Would you?”

  “I certainly wouldn’t,” Chip stated.

  “It all fits together,” Bella said. “Malcolm must have killed my mother sometime after I was born. Why would he do that unless she told him I wasn’t his?”

  “Residual anger about the affair?” Lex offered. “Revenge?”

  Bella looked thoughtful. “Honestly, I think he murdered Camden the night he found them together in the dressing room. He built the secret room in order to hide the body. She probably thought Camden had gone to New York without her. Then after I was born, he murdered my mother and put her in there too, in a new layer of concrete.” Her eyes welled up with tears. “I can’t imagine how horrible everything was for her.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “It’s helped, though, that I’ve finally had a chance to read the journal. Clara would never let anyone touch it. She kept it in a locked glass case. But inside, there was page after page about how much my mother loved me even before I was born, and pages more afterwards describing our first months together. She never would have left me behind after all.”

  We smiled at each other.

  “And, oh, I also read there that the jewelry had been handed down for generations in the Drake family. That’s how Camden could afford them.”

  “Aha! Mystery solved,” said Lex.

  “I want to thank you again for finding the jewelry. And saving me from that stairwell,” Bella said. “And leading me toward knowing what happened to my parents. Honestly, I owe you a non-stop stream of thank yous. Everything seems so inadequate.”

  I shook my head. “There’s no need. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  She leapt up from the settee. “I really need to hug you both.”

  As she bestowed her hug, the scent of roses washed over me.

  “What’s that perfume? It’s lovely.”

  “It’s tea rose.” Bella’s face lit up. “My mother’s signature scent. I read that in her journal.”

  “This is going to sound crazy,” I said slowly, “but I swear I could smell roses in the dressing room the night Zandra confessed.”

  Bella’s face grew solemn. “That doesn’t sound crazy at all. I smelled it in the staircase when I awoke too.”

  “It was very strong. Came in like a wave,” I said, remembering.

  “Yes! I think my mother was there, trying to protect us.”

  “Um. Couldn’t Zandra have been the one wearing it?” Lex raised an eyebrow. “She was in both places.”

  “No,” Bella and I said simultaneously.

  “Zandra’s perfume was something altogether different,” she said. “It was musky and dark and heavy. Nothing like tea rose.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “Trust us on this, Lex.”

  He put both hands up, acquiescing.

  Bella said, “I love that you were led to the room by a dream.”

  “Lila has a sixth sense,” Lex said. “Or so she says.”

  “My mother is the one who says it runs in the family,” I told Bella, ignoring Lex. I knew he had a difficult time accepting things that he couldn’t explain.

  Even though my dream had led us right to the jewelry.

  Ahem.

  I took another drink and set my cup down gently into the saucer. “How are Clara and Braxton?”

  “They’re fine. I mean, they’re humiliated. They’ve retreated to their mountain home,” Bella said. “And they apologized. Clara was the one behind all of the horrible beh
avior, but Braxton enabled her.”

  Beside me, I could feel Lex nodding.

  “I knew Clara was worried about money. She’d never had to worry in her life, nor had Braxton. But they’d put so much money into trying to preserve the Opera House over the past decade and, well, the coffers were getting low. Braxton wanted to sell the mountain house—in fact, they may be making arrangements to do that right now—but Clara wouldn’t hear of it. It had been in her family for years. Both of them come from wealthy backgrounds but don’t have any relatives who will help.”

  Chip gave her an encouraging smile.

  “She was going to sell the diamonds if she found them. She thought she needed the money.”

  “That’s what she told us the night they tried to knock down the wall,” I said.

  “But they’re your mother’s jewels,” Chip said. “I can’t believe she would try to steal them.”

  Bella sat up straighter. “You might not understand, but I am going to sell the jewelry and give some of the money to Clara and Braxton. They need my help.”

  I could tell she’d made up her mind.

  “We’ll have replicas of the jewelry made to display in the theater, but we need some of the money to move forward anyway, so the proceeds will also benefit the Opera House.”

  “Turns out the center diamond, the one shaped like an egg, is famous. It’s worth millions.” Chip winked.

  “Congratulations,” I said to Bella. “That’s fantastic!”

  “Thank you again for your help. I can hardly believe how much everything has changed.” She looked down at her hands. “I just wish Clara and Braxton weren’t feeling so horrible.”

  Chip started. “But they acted horribly, so...”

  “Are you going to press charges?” Lex asked.

  “For making a hole in the wall? No.” Bella twisted the napkin as she spoke. “They took me in when I was a baby. I can forgive a desperate act.”

  “But—” Chip began.

  “Please don’t try to change my mind. I know Clara didn’t seem overtly kind. And yes, she was very controlling. But she cared for me all of these years. And she watched out for me. In her way.”

  “In fact, we’re going to find some way for them to be part of the Opera House operations after we’ve restored it,” Chip said. “It’s the least we can do. They really have fought for it for so many years.”

  I could hardly believe the way he was talking. He’d come in as a developer and had been transformed into a preserver. No one should ever underestimate Bella’s powers of persuasion.

  “But we want them to understand that it’s better for the community to have a live, active site than something that’s off-limits to practically everyone.” Bella smiled. “We want it to be an inclusive place for all.”

  Chip regarded her fondly. “That’s right. And tell them what the society did.”

  She blushed. “He means that I’ve been voted in as president of the Historical Society as well, so we’ll be unified with them while we perform the work.”

  We congratulated her.

  “What’s the first thing you’re going to do as president?” I bet the society was thrilled about her taking over.

  “We’ll go through the process to request that the Stonedale Opera House be added to the National Register of Historic Places.”

  “Clara didn’t do that?”

  “She said it gave too much power to the government,” Bella said. “I don’t think she understood what it meant. You know Clara. Once she makes her mind up, that’s her reality.”

  “What’s going to happen with Zandra?” Chip asked Lex. “I hope she is locked up without a key.”

  “She’ll soon have her hands full with the trial. Our justice system in Stonedale moves quickly. Small town and all.”

  “I bet the papers will love following that story closely,” Chip said. “She’s larger than life. Oh, and Lila, I heard she told you that she was part of the entertainment complex plan. I just want you to know that she was one hundred percent delusional. I never made any kind of agreement with her whatsoever.”

  I nodded. “She thought you were going to feature her in a play. Does that sound like something she could have gotten from any conversation you had?”

  He shook his head. “I mean, once we talked about roles for women of a certain age, but I certainly didn’t promise her anything. I didn’t even know what form the entertainment complex might take yet.”

  Bella tapped him on the shoulder. “And were you romantically involved?” She had a mischievous look in her eyes.

  “I’m a one-woman man. You know that.” He kissed her on the cheek.

  “She was absolutely obsessed with him,” Bella said to me. “When we were in the dressing room, she told me that he was her soulmate. And that I was insane if I thought he loved me instead of her.”

  “She’s the one who was crazy,” Chip pronounced, pulling Bella in for a hug. “Sabotaging everything and attacking people.”

  “Did she admit to pushing Tolliver through the trap door?” I asked Lex.

  “No,” he said. “But who else could have done it?”

  “The ghost of Malcolm?” Chip said. “He was a mean old dude.”

  “Why? To register his disapproval of the play?” I grinned at him.

  Bella laughed. “Maybe. More likely, though, it was Zandra. What do you think, Lila?”

  “She said she needed Tolliver out of the way so Chip could be her new director. But when I asked her point blank if she had pushed him, she claimed it was Malcolm.”

  “That’s her story and she’s sticking to it,” Lex said. “But she took responsibility for just about everything else.”

  “Cutting the rope on the harness?” I asked. Poor Andrew.

  “That one she did admit.”

  “Hey, do you think she was a real psychic or medium or whatever it was she claimed to be?” Bella asked.

  I considered this. “Well, you did say it felt like you’d spoken to your mother...”

  “That’s true. And her crystal ball actually glowed,” she said.

  “Well, scratch that part as proof. The crystal ball glowed because of batteries,” Lex said. “Programmable light. You can buy one yourself online.”

  “Zandra was a fake,” Chip said. “That thumping sound below us at the séance was made by her own feet.”

  “I was sitting right next to her, though,” I protested. “She didn’t move. Not one inch. I’d have felt it if she did.”

  “Maybe she had already hypnotized you so you didn’t feel it,” Chip suggested.

  “I don’t think that’s how it works, honey,” Bella said.

  “And she did move her leg somehow to drop the pistol on the floor,” Lex said.

  I twisted to face him. “Are you challenging my movement-detecting abilities?”

  He shrugged. “Just saying.”

  “Zandra could have slid her leg down very slowly to allow the gun to fall, but you cannot make a thump without big movement. Thus, the loud noise remains unexplainable.” I flashed him a triumphant look.

  “So you’re blaming ghosts for that?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “I don’t know, Lex. How do we explain all of the things that happened? Like the incredibly cold spots? Or the singing? Or the orbs?”

  “And what about that gust of wind that came in and swirled all around us at the séance?” Bella was right. That didn’t seem like something Zandra could have manufactured without using fans blasting from the wings. We would have seen and heard those.

  “I was in the back of the auditorium, and I didn’t see any wind,” Lex said.

  “Oh man, it was definitely there,” Chip said. “I forgot about that. Like a storm just swept right through the room...and kind of through you at the same time. Super strange. But it’s all good. Part of the
experience, and we’ll be able to advertise it, anyway.”

  “Wait, so you think it’s haunted for real?” I asked, not knowing which way I wanted them to answer.

  “Yes,” said Bella.

  “And we’re not only going to keep it that way, we’re going to celebrate it,” Chip said. “My investors have agreed that preserving the historical site is worthwhile. We’ll keep the original structure but reinforce everything, refinish the good parts inside, and bring in some state-of-the-art elements that will allow us to hold productions there—safely—for years to come. We’ve already convinced the mayor to reinstate the budget for the community theater.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “He’s going to be given a private box after the remodel. Plus, we told him Clara would be leaving him alone about the budget and so forth in the future. We’ll make that a condition of our work agreement with her.”

  “That’ll be worth its weight in gold,” Lex muttered, winking at me.

  Chip reached for another sandwich and stared down at it. “These cucumber things are better than I thought, by the way. I think I’m acquiring the taste.”

  “That was fast.” Bella giggled.

  “Hey, we can serve them at the theater for special events and call them Gaineswiches.” He waved the sandwich in the air. “Or ghostwiches.”

  Bella beamed at him, then leaned forward to address us. “I’m going to open a museum area and a gift shop so that people can learn about the site’s history and take home mementos. And we’ll give tours.”

  “We will promote the Opera House outside of Stonedale as well,” Chip said. “See if we can get some folks from New York to consider us a viable place for theater workshops.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Very impressive plan. I wish you the best of luck with everything.”

  “We hope you’ll do more than that,” Bella said, making eye contact with me. “We want to produce a play based on a mystery you’ve written.”

  I froze. “But I haven’t written a mystery.”

  “Someday you will,” she said confidently. “You’re not the only one with a sixth sense, you know.”

  We were dangerously close to discussing a dream I’d never told anyone. I played it casual. “Well, I’d better get started writing a mystery then.”