“But he said nothing that would indicate what he was doing here or who killed him?”
“Nope.”
“I don’t suppose you know what happened to Officers Treble and Richards, do you?”
I smiled at him. “I have genuinely no clue but I’m pretty sure it was something extremely unpleasant.”
Officer Leonard narrowed his eyes at me and opened his mouth as if he were about to pursue that line of questioning but changed his mind. He focused on the interrogations from in between the mannequins. “Did you find yourself some new clothes?”
“Nope. Not really, since this trip was called short because of the inconvenient dead body that I totally would’ve walked past to carry on shopping, except his ghost got up and spoke to me.”
“So, you’re saying you still need clothes?” Officer Leonard asked.
“Yes. That’s what I’m saying.” Okay, so maybe I had that fancy set of underwear, some multi-pack knickers and some new shoes, and some makeup and the jumpsuit I was still wearing, but he didn’t ask that question. He asked if I needed more. I definitely needed more. I was pretty sure I’d always need more.
“That’s quite an unfortunate position to be in,” Officer Leonard agreed.
“What is?” Oz asked from behind us. “Talking to one of my wards without my permission. Again.”
“I’m simply catching up with a friend, Officer Salier, that’s all.” Officer Leonard stepped away from me.
“A friend?” Oz arched an eyebrow at me.
I shook my head and enunciated clearly at Officer Leonard. “Mental. Institution.”
Officer Leonard ignored me and turned to speak to Oz. “Ms Sway was telling me she was still lacking in the clothing department.”
“Is that right?” Oz’s attention jumped to the bags of theft-purchases in a nice clump by Anna and Katie.
“I thought we could have a second attempt at this tomorrow evening. I’ll arrange it and forward on the details to you and the other parole officers,” Officer Leonard said and inclined his head to me. “Ms Sway.”
Oz and I watched in silence as Officer Leonard walked back to the spotlight questioning stations.
“Are you going to tell me off for something?” I asked with a sigh.
“Are you happy with how our relationship is progressing?” Oz asked.
I hesitated. I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that. I wasn’t allowed to date him because he was my parole officer. Not that I would date him, because he was annoying and dictatorial and looked really good all the time. You could never date someone who was effortlessly gorgeous. It was a self-esteem killer. But he did look really good in a T-shirt. And he did occasionally give me the tummy flips when he wasn’t telling me off for something, which was yet another reason why the relationship wouldn’t work. Once you became emotionally invested in it, then the other person owned you. I mean, just look at my housemates.
“Bridget? Do you feel like we are developing open and honest channels of communication?”
“I feel like I’m telling you stuff and not always getting the same value back,” I replied honestly.
“Okay. Here’s some honesty. I don’t like that Leonard sought you out to speak to you without me. I don’t like that he’s calling you his ‘friend’. I don’t like that he’s arranging another shopping trip specifically for you. I don’t like that he’s taking an interest in you at all. What don’t you like about this situation?”
“I don’t like that he didn’t bring me apology ice cream.”
“Bridget—”
“Officer Salier?” A GB, the one that had initiated the evacuation, appeared behind him. “We’re ready for your wards. We’d like to start with Katherine Green.”
“I’ll be right there,” Oz said and waited for the GB to leave. The GB didn’t.
“We need to progress with these interviews, Officer Salier. The quicker they’re done, the quicker you can all go home.” The GB gestured for Oz to lead the way.
Oz gave me a stern look that was basically a mixture of behave/we’ll talk about this later/please behave/we’re not done/we’ll talk about this later, and then led the GB over to collect Katie.
“What did the GB tell you?” Pam whispered from behind me.
“Nothing really all that useful,” I said, glancing around at the room and wishing there were a tea and biscuit station. It felt wrong that there was a group of ghosts and no tea and biscuits. We’d been there for hours and all because the GBs were spiteful. They’d decided the best process would be to interview one person from each parole group rather than do a group at a time. So everyone was still in the room. But now they wanted to do all of Oz’s wards? What was that about?
“Really?” Lucy asked, coming up on my other side. “I’d have thought he’d have all the information.”
“I think you’re a bit confused about how this works,” I said to Lucy. “He likely does have all the information but that does not mean he would share it with me.”
Petal tugged on my sleeve. “Did you ask him nicely? I always think that if you ask nicely people are more inclined to help you.”
“Did I ask him nicely to give me all the information he had about the murder? Yeah, it doesn’t work that way either, Petal. He never tells me anything, really.”
“Then how do you investigate?” Lucy asked with a frown.
I looked around at the three expectant faces. “With great difficulty and much confusion.”
Lucy screwed up her face. “That doesn’t sound like fun.”
I shook my head. “It’s really not.”
“Who wants to share their suspect information first?” Pam asked.
Petal’s hand shot straight up in the air. “Me! I spoke to Olive.” Petal moved to the side of our mannequin hide and pointed at Olive, who saw us looking and gave us a happy wave. We all waved back.
I gently tugged Petal back behind the mannequins. “Before you continue, Petal, I feel we need to talk about subtlety.”
Petal gave me her full attention. “Okay.”
“When you’re talking about people it’s best not to let them know you’re talking about them, okay? So don’t point them out, don’t look at them, and if I describe who I’m talking about, don’t try to find them in the room, okay?”
Petal’s face crumpled into a frown. “I don’t know. That seems a bit two-faced.”
Anna wandered over to join our group. “That’s because it is two-faced, hon. It’s why Bridget’s so good at it,”
I ignored Anna. I had to. The mannequin in front of me had a loose arm and with one little tug it would be off. I’d been imagining using it on Janice but now Anna was much closer. I scrunched my hands into fists so they wouldn’t reach for it and focused on Petal.
“Okay, Petal, imagine Olive was the one who killed Jeremy. Imagine that, if she killed him, she’s probably feeling a little suspicious that people saw her, and then you pointed her out of the crowd. She might think you suspect her. And if she thinks that you think she killed Jeremy she might try and kill you, too. So, we are covert operatives from here on out. It’s not two-faced, it’s self-preservation. Like secret agents, okay?”
Petal’s frown slowly morphed into a smile. “Okay.”
“Hang on, so we can’t flat out ask people what they know about the murder?” Lucy asked.
“No,” I said and drew the word out while I looked at each of them to make sure they’d all heard me.
Lucy threw her hands up at me. “Well, that would’ve been handy to know before we went around questioning people. So now if I’ve questioned the murderer they’re going to try to kill me? Great.”
“Look at it this way, Lucy, you might get lucky and finally be able to use your stun gun,” Pam offered.
“That is such a good point, Pam. I hope I questioned the murderer.” Lucy peeked out from behind the mannequins and glanced around the room.
I focused on Petal because I plain didn’t want to deal with Lucy’s comment. “Rig
ht, Petal, without pointing them out, what did you learn from who?”
“Olive,” Petal said and her eyes darted all over the room so she was looking anywhere but over her shoulder at Olive. “Olive said she was sad he was dead and that it’s always a trying time. And then I spoke to Wendy and she said something similar. And Tracy agreed. And then Maria said that she thought that dying was the hardest thing she’d ever been through and she’d had four children. And then Sheila—”
“Petal, what did you ask them?” They were pretty nice remarks. I’d never had anyone tell me anything like that.
“I just—I said wasn’t it terrible that someone was dead.” Petal glanced around the group. “Did I do it wrong?”
“Yes. You should’ve been more direct about it,” Lucy said.
“Exactly how direct were you?” I asked Lucy.
Lucy shrugged. “I asked them if they’d killed him.”
Petal gasped. “You can’t ask people that.”
“But that was the information I wanted,” Lucy said with a confused shake of her head.
“What did they say?” Pam asked Lucy and frankly I was an inch from washing my hands of them all and lying, saying I’d found the killer.
Lucy tossed her head. “Mostly they said no.”
“Mostly?” I asked.
Lucy coughed and fiddled with the hem of her jumper. “Some people were quite rude about it.”
I nodded. “Yeah, it’s funny how people can get a bit upset when you accuse them of murder.”
“How did you do it, Pam?” Petal asked.
“Well, I was trying to be subtle about it and I started up a conversation with Beatrice about the vegetable lasagne she’d told me she was going to try and then we got sidetracked talking about the way different shaped pasta is better for different dishes.”
“Right,” I said, adjusting my fringe for something to do with my hands that didn’t involve ripping off the mannequin’s arm and beating some sense into all of them. “Maybe we should have a quick lesson on how to question people effectively before you guys go back into the field.”
“I think that’s a good idea, hon. They clearly don’t know what they’re doing,” Anna agreed.
“Oh, because you do?” Lucy asked.
Anna flashed a smug smile at us. “While you four were bumbling around I planted a few suspicions about Bridget’s guilt.”
“Wait, so you ‘helped’ by spreading a rumour that you thought I was the killer?” I asked.
“It kinda does make a tiny bit of sense,” Petal admitted quietly.
“I think it makes a heap of sense. The real killer will totally think they’ve gotten away with it if everybody suspects you, so we can investigate unhindered,” Lucy said and pointed to Anna. “I’m glad I managed to persuade the others to include you.”
“Bridget Sway?” a male voice asked from behind me.
I turned to face him. “Yes?”
“Come with me, please.” The GB gestured for me to walk ahead of him.
“All of you, stay here,” I said, gesturing around the group.
Pam, Petal and Lucy murmured their agreement.
“Who made you the boss, hon?” Anna asked but Petal shushed her.
The GB directed me to the empty interrogation seat.
Oz pointed to the GB about to begin his questions. “You’ll have to wait.”
“Ms Sway, I can stand in for Officer Salier during Officer Fredrickson’s questioning, if you’d like?” Officer Leonard asked.
“No, she wouldn’t like,” Oz called from the far end of the interrogation station.
“I’m sure Ms Sway can answer for herself,” Officer Leonard said and turned to me. “Would you like me to stand in for Officer Salier, Ms Sway?”
I smiled at Officer Leonard. “Mental. Institution.”
Officer Leonard smiled back at me and then turned to Oz. “I think she would like to wait for you.”
A few long minutes of silence later, Oz came to stand next to me and gestured for Officer Fredrickson to ask his question.
Fredrickson crouched down in front of me. “Let’s talk about how you snapped a coat hanger and used it to stab a man in the neck.”
Oz jumped in before I could answer. “She didn’t do it and you have no proof or reason to suggest otherwise.”
“No? Then why is one of her housemates telling everyone she did it?” Fredrickson asked.
“What?” Oz leaned forward as if he’d misheard but I just shrugged.
“My mam always used to say any type of meanness stems from jealousy.”
Chapter Five
Lucy whistled as I walked into the kitchen the next morning and I felt like I deserved it. I was wearing my new white jumpsuit uniform, which acknowledged I was a participant of the VTP. The colour made my skin appear sun-kissed and my pillar box red hair seem even more vibrant. I’d used my mascara for eyeliner, as well as its main purpose and to fully showcase my amazing new, black four-inch heels, I’d rolled up the bottoms of my trousers. As a finishing touch I’d cinched the waist of my jumpsuit with the black ribbon Sabrina had given me. Admittedly, her intention was that I’d have something to tie people up with, should I need to, but it worked just as well as a belt.
“Oh, wow, Bridget you look amazing,” Petal gushed as I gave them all a twirl in the centre of the kitchen.
Was it the best I’d ever looked in my life? No. Was it the best I’d ever looked since I’d died? Absolutely. I felt so much like my old self I couldn’t believe that I’d been without these essentials for so long.
Anna glanced up from the magazine she was reading at the breakfast bar. “With the amount of makeup she has on and the length of time it took her, I’d have expected more.”
“Oh, Anna, I think you’ve gone a little overboard with your colour corrector today because you look a little green.” I smiled and walked to the kettle to make some tea. Okay, so I might have sashayed more than walked but it felt amazing to have my heels back.
“Can anyone smell burning?” Pam asked and I sniffed the air. I turned to see Oz staring at me. I smiled. He continued to stare. My smile dwindled. I was in trouble. I’d literally just walked into the room. How was this possible?
Oz held out the spatula he’d been using to flip the now burnt pancakes. “Pam? Can you take over for a minute for me? I need to speak to Bridget.”
Pam took the spatula and Oz headed up to the first floor without waiting to see if I’d follow. I slumped my shoulders and followed him. And my day had started so well.
“How am I in trouble?” I asked when I was only halfway up the stairs. It was more of a whine than a question, really. And harder than I remembered to walk upstairs in heels.
He paused in his pacing. “You’re kidding, right?”
“What? You don’t think I look pretty?” I made it to the landing, tugged on my ribbon belt then smoothed my fringe over.
“No, you were pretty before. With no makeup and slightly frizzy hair. That was pretty. This isn’t pretty. This?” He gestured to my outfit with an open palm. “This is stunning.”
I smiled at him. I had definitely missed hearing that from people. Even if it was only boys trying to get into my knickers. I dipped my head in gracious acceptance. “Thank you.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“How?”
“Do you remember the immense amount of trouble you’ve been in over the past month?”
I shook my head. “No, no, I don’t. Could you remind me?”
“This?” Oz gestured to my outfit again, which was really only shoes and eyeliner. “This is going to attract a whole different type of trouble.”
“I’ve still got my pepper spray.”
Oz stared at me, hands on his hips, frown on his face. “I need you to tone it down.”
“It’s shoes and eyeliner. It is toned down.”
Oz inhaled a deep breath, pressed his hands together as if he were praying and then pointed them at me. “Petal takes her c
ue from you. What if Petal starts dressing this way? What if Petal starts getting this type of attention? You’re used to it. She’s not. What if she finds herself in a situation that she can’t handle? Or Lucy. Or Pam. Hell, even Anna. Simply to prove a point that she’s more attractive.”
“Whoa, you think Anna’s more attractive than me?” I held up my hand in his face. “You just lost any goodwill.”
Oz pulled my hand from his face. “I didn’t say she was. I was suggesting a situation which we both know, considering your antagonistic relationship, is entirely plausible. And please remember that you have this because I let you. I can take it back.”
“Right. So you’re saying I can keep it but only if I don’t use it?”
“I’m saying tone it down.”
“Fine. But tomorrow. Because I’m not changing now.” I snatched my hand out of his grip and stomped back downstairs, which was actually a little tricky in heels.
I was three steps down before I felt Oz fist his hand in the back of my jumpsuit. “Just in case you fall,” he murmured.
“I’ve walked in heels for ten years. I don’t need a safety net.” I twisted to slap his hand off but caught my heel in the carpet. Oz reached out and caught both my arms to stop me from falling. I righted myself and gripped hold of the handrail. “You ruined my balance when you grabbed me.”
“Yeah, that was it. Not that you’re trying to walk on chopsticks.” He kept his hand fisted in the back of my jumpsuit all the way down the stairs.
I made it back into the kitchen without further issue and had to bat at his hand a couple of times before he let me go. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was worried about me walking on my chopstick heels or because he didn’t really want to let me out of the house. I could understand the latter because I did look amazing.
“I’ll see you all later,” I said as I headed for the back door, rearranging my ribbon belt as I went since Oz’s stair safety interference had pulled it out of shape.
“Aren’t you having breakfast with us?” Petal asked.
“I want to show Sabrina,” I said. Which I did, but more importantly I wanted to talk to Sabrina.
Dead and Buried: A Bridget Sway Novel (A Paranormal Ghost Cozy Mystery Series Book 4) Page 5
