“Just because you know her doesn’t mean she’s not capable of doing bad things,” Oz said on a sigh. “There was a note on the file to cross reference with the four other dead mediums, the implication being that Janice was involved with their murders too somehow.”
I frowned at him. “Don’t you think it’s weird that Janice, if it was Janice, stole all the files except that one?”
“Maybe she missed it. But how would Janice know to be in the exact right place at the right time to be able to sneak into that room when the door was unlocked?”
I grabbed Oz’s arm. “She was in Arrivals the day before Sean and I noticed the files were missing. One of the other induction leaders lost their keys that day but didn’t realise until the day after. And Janice was looking shifty when I saw her.”
“If you’re saying she stole them the day before then who came in when you were in there? They didn’t use keys, right?”
“Maybe that was nothing. Maybe whoever came in didn’t hear me call out and I just assumed it was them who stole the files. Or maybe it was Treble.”
Oz paused to stare at me. “We’re accusing a GB now?”
“I really don’t like him.”
“So who is it? Janice, who all the evidence points to, or Treble?”
“Or maybe they’re in it together?” I suggested. “Janice attacked Madame Zorina without Treble knowing, so when Treble was stealing the files he didn’t know he needed that one too. But what would Treble gain from it? Oh! I heard some GBs talking about them being understaffed. They said someone had been talking about needing more mediums, but I didn’t catch who it was.”
Oz hesitated. “Okay, well, now we have motives for three people. Olive committed the murders and Janice is covering up for her. Or Janice is killing them on Olive’s behalf. Or Treble wanting more mediums to aid the GBs and framing Janice.”
“But the file specifically implicates Janice in the attack on Madame Zorina, right?” I swirled my finger around us. “I notice that you’re not rushing to the police station to inform them.”
“This feels wrong.”
“Just because you know her doesn’t mean she’s not capable of doing bad things,” I said. He gave me a flat stare and I held up my hands. “Hey, I’m alright with throwing any of those three to the wolves/GBs for tonight if it means getting everyone else out. We can look about helping them once everyone I care about is free.”
Oz’s lips flattened into a line. “That’s a pretty selfish attitude.”
“She lodged a complaint against me when I was trying to be nice to her ward. She’s tried to get me into trouble with the GBs several times. I’m happy for her to spend some time with them. See how she likes it.” I tossed my head and the ends of my ponytail slid over my shoulder. “I’d call that karma.”
“And don’t think I didn’t notice the whole ‘we’ll investigate afterward’.”
“We don’t have to. Maybe she’s in it on her own and forgot she tried to murder Madame Zorina.”
“Yeah, I can see how that could slip someone’s mind.” Oz gestured between us. “Is this what you do with Sabrina?”
“Pretty much.” I looked around the garden to make sure no one was there to overhear and lowered my voice. “It’s a little bit fun, right?”
Oz enunciated oh-so-clearly. “No.”
“I think the fact that you overstressed it means the opposite. So what are you going to tell the GBs?”
“I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.” He reached for my hand and pulled me toward the house. “I want you to stay here until I get back. And when your housemates get back, sit them all in the lounge together and put a film on, okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“And I mean all of your housemates,” Oz stressed. “Anna and Katie, too. If I can get her released I’ll need to stay and fill out some paperwork, so she might come back on her own.”
“It’s her that doesn’t speak to us,” I said a little too defensively.
“Because you’ve all made her feel so welcome.” Oz opened the kitchen door and ushered me inside.
“I’ve already said I’ll be nice to her.”
“Yes, I heard you say it. Lock this door after me.”
“Why?”
“Let’s try and keep you out of trouble for a bit, okay?”
I mumbled something about him being dictatorial and oppressive, but I closed and bolted the door—not really seeing how a deadbolt was going to keep me out of trouble but I figured it was best not to point that out.
“Behave,” Oz mouthed and pointed at me through the window on the door.
I held my hands out and gestured around me, as if to ask how I could possibly get into any trouble locked inside the house. When he disappeared I filled the kettle and, while waiting for it to boil, I rooted through the cupboards for something good to eat. I felt like I’d called in sick to school. I probably should’ve gone back and finished off the last ten minutes of my GA meeting but it wouldn’t have been worth it. I probably should’ve let Eleanor know I was okay, though.
“A-ha!” After several minutes of hunting I finally found a packet of chocolate chip digestives hidden beneath several packets of rice cakes. I ignored the fact Anna had stuck a huge label on them declaring, in thick black marker, they were hers, and ripped them open. I’d eaten two before the kettle had even boiled. I felt that was okay since I’d had an eventful night and needed the sugar. And, since Oz would tell the GBs and they would release everyone, I’d totally saved the day. I absolutely deserved some biscuits.
I heard something at the door and turned. Not expecting to see anyone—more out of reflex.
Katie’s palm was pressed to the glass, supporting herself as she peered into the kitchen. She stared at me. I stared back. Neither of us moved. I suddenly felt like I wasn’t totally sure Janice and/or Treble and/or Olive hadn’t had help with their murdering. She rattled the door handle while her other palm remained on the window. All I could think was that my mam would’ve rapped my knuckles if I’d put my hands on the clean windows like that.
Hesitantly, I walked across the kitchen and reached for the door handle. She wasn’t a killer, right? And I was still holding the kettle in one hand. If she tried her murdering luck with me I could always bash her over the head with it and tunnel to safety. I unbolted the door and held it open. She walked through without saying anything.
“No, Katie, you’re so welcome. No one did highly illegal things to get you out of the evil GBs’ clutches. Come right in and carry on your life by not speaking to us.”
“Gee, thank you so much, the amazing and all-powerful Bridget. Hold still while I get on my knees and worship you.” Her voice wasn’t anywhere near as whiny as I’d expected. It sounded alarmingly normal. Alarmingly not like a crazy person at all.
“Okay,” I said and gave her a one-shoulder shrug, trying not to be freaked out that she’d spoken to me. I closed the door and bolted it with the kettle still in my hand. I looked back across the kitchen to see her heading for the stairs. “You have to stay down here. We’re going to watch a film,” I called after her but she ignored me. So I did what any agitated, self-respecting, undervalued person would do. I grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl and threw it at the door in front of her. At least I was aiming for the door but I was right-handed and that was the hand holding the kettle. So I threw it with my left. It hit her in the middle of her back. She stopped walking and turned oh-so-slowly around to face me. It was like a super creepy scene from a horror film.
“I’m really sorry. I was aiming for the door. I’m right-handed.” I picked up the packet of biscuits and offered her one, still not putting the kettle down. Katie angled her head to read Anna’s writing and then looked up at me. I shrugged.
She walked back over, took the packet from me and then placed a cup next to mine on the counter.
“Oh, does that mean you want tea?” I asked. “Why does everyone think I’ll just make them tea?”
“Because you freak out when anyone even goes near the kettle,” Katie said, settling at the breakfast bar with the biscuits.
“Is it my fault no one ever taught any of you how to make a cup of tea? I mean, seriously? Who puts the milk in first? It’s just not right.” I put the kettle down on its base and flipped it back to boil. “Why don’t you speak?”
“Don’t have anything to say to any of you.”
“Well, you could start with an apology for nearly murdering Petal,” I suggested. “That would go a long way.”
“I wasn’t trying to murder her,” Katie snapped at me.
“Well, your hands around her neck would suggest otherwise.”
“You weren’t there.”
“No, but I have had someone try to strangle me once, so I feel I can understand the motivation behind it.”
“To get you to shut up?”
“No, I slapped him because I thought he was dead and he woke up and thought I was trying to kill him so he tried to strangle me. But that’s all by the by,” I said and turned my back on her to pour the water into the mugs. I was tempted to twist sideways so I could keep an eye on her but it seemed a little excessive. “I found it really hard when I first got here. I used to hide in my room all night and they’d still come in and pester me. You have to accept that you’re dead now and life is different. And if you apologise to—”
Something heavy hit something solid with a muted bang. I spun around, teaspoon raised and ready for battle. Katie looked over at me. From my teaspoon to my face.
“Something wrong?” she asked, and there was definite glee in her voice for having made me jump.
Anna’s biscuits had been shoved into a freezer bag and there was a valley down the centre where Katie had hit them with a rolling pin.
“Little bit passive aggressive, don’t you think?” I asked, jabbing my teaspoon in her direction and twisting sideways so I could keep an eye on her while fishing the tea bags out of our mugs. So much for extending trust.
“It’s a base for a cheesecake,” Katie said and bashed the biscuits again, three times in quick succession.
I nodded. “That’s nice. I’m going to leave your tea here so you don’t accidentally knock it off with your biscuit bashing.” I moved to stand between the door and the table. I wasn’t wholly happy about being alone with Katie as she swung a rolling pin manically around the kitchen.
“I like to bake. So what?” she said and then smashed the rolling pin into the biscuits again.
“Lord knows I’m all for cheesecake but don’t you think it’s a bit weird to randomly decide to bake one? Do we even have ingredients?” I reached over to open the fridge door. I briefly took my eyes from her to scan inside it. “We don’t even have—”
The words died in my throat as I turned back and saw Katie bearing down on me. Rolling pin raised and crazed expression on her face.
Chapter Eighteen
I used the only weapon I had to hand. My tea. I threw the contents of my cup at her. She stumbled but quickly reversed course, the hot tea splashing at her feet.
“What the hell!” she screeched. Not willing to hear any excuses about how she liked mashed brains in her cheesecake, I lunged for the back door, threw it open and dived forward. Only to find my escape blocked by a figure in black.
Officer Leonard’s attention jumped behind me. He pulled me to him and bent down to cover me. I felt a draft as the rolling pin flew over our heads.
“Did I come at a bad time?” Officer Leonard asked me as we straightened up, both of us keeping our attention on Katie.
“Get out of my house,” Katie yelled in our direction.
“This is my house too,” I yelled back. “And I feel I made a valid point about the cheesecake. You can’t randomly start bashing biscuits and assume the ingredients will magically be there. There’s no need to freak out over it.”
“Not you. Him!” Katie picked up a plate and raised it to throw. I thought she was just going to threaten but she didn’t. She launched it. Officer Leonard and I ducked. The plate sailed over our heads and joined the rolling pin in the garden.
“Stop throwing things!” I yelled at her
“You threw an orange at me!”
“An orange is a soft fruit. Not a heavy piece of wood or porcelain.” I shrieked.
Katie waved her hand at me. “You’re not allowed in here without permission.”
“I have permission. I live here.”
“Not you. Him!” She jabbed a finger over my shoulder. I was almost surprised to find a calm Officer Leonard watching. Somehow I’d managed to forget he was there. And that was when I knew she’d completely infected me with her crazy.
When I turned back to her she was hefting a heavy, porcelain jar full of tea bags. “Hey. Katie. You throw that and you and I are going to have a big problem.”
“I’m allowed to defend myself if someone trespasses in my home. And stop calling me that.” She slammed the tea jar back on the counter.
“What do you want me to call you? The crazy woman who’s throwing things?” I yelled back. I couldn’t help it now. She’d gotten me into screaming mode. And once in it, it took a lot to get me out of it. And it felt so good to yell. To have a proper screaming match. To let it all out.
“I’m not crazy!” Katie screamed and pressed both hands to her head as though she were trying to stop it from spinning. Or keep the crazy inside.
“Can you give us a minute?” I asked Officer Leonard in my “everything completely is okay” tone, stepped back inside and closed the door in his face. I glanced over at Katie who had dropped to the floor, resting her back against the cupboards. “Hey, not crazy lady? I’m going to come over there. Please don’t stab me with a chair leg, okay?”
I stepped around the puddle of tea on the floor and reached for her mug. I stirred in a heaped spoonful of sugar, checked over my shoulder at her still distraught expression then added another for good measure. I offered her the mug but she just stared at it.
“Take it,” I said.
“Why, because tea makes everything better?”
“Pretty much. And biscuits. I would offer you one but you’ve beaten them to death. I can get you a spoon if you want to eat the crumbs.”
“I wanted cheesecake,” she said as she looked forlornly at the biscuits.
“Okay. These mood swings are making me dizzy.”
“Because you’re so well adjusted.”
“Just say it.” I motioned for her to speak.
“What?”
“Get it all out so we can move on,” I said and motioned again. She didn’t say anything. “Fine. I’ll start. I don’t like you because you tried to strangle Petal. I think that’s a justified reason to dislike someone. And I’m guessing you don’t like me because you think that Oz sent you away but he lets me get away with much more. Did you consider, though, that he tries to give me more leeway because he feels bad about sending you away, even though you totally deserved it?
“And you did deserve it. I mean, who strangles their housemate? And now you’re back and you won’t speak to us like it’s our fault. It’s not. You put your hands around her neck—”
“She wouldn’t leave me alone. She was always messing with my makeup and wanting to hug me and plait my hair and have sleepovers in my room. They all were but she was the worst. I just wanted five minutes’ peace. That’s all. Just five minutes to myself. I’d just died. And then my best friend died. I needed some time. I needed—”
“Well, boo hoo for you. Did it occur to you, in that tiny selfish little brain, that maybe everyone was worried about you and that’s why they were always around?” I asked. “Or that you could've asked Oz for help. Or maybe even said that you needed a minute instead of trying to murder her.”
“I wasn’t trying to murder her. I just wanted her to leave me alone for a second and—”
“Really? Because putting your hands around someone’s neck tends to scream murderous intentions, not ‘I need a minute’
. See it from someone else’s perspective for a moment. Imagine you’d walked in on that. What would you have thought? You see everything from your own little sorry-for-yourself world. I know you must be mad about being locked away and hurting because of your friend and lonely because you think everyone hates you but you don’t have to live this way. Don’t be so standoffish all the time and everyone here will welcome you.
“Even Oz feels terrible about getting you locked up even though it was totally the right thing to do, so stop being such a martyr about it. And I know the reason you’re not speaking is because you feel guilty about Petal. I get that, but you have to deal with this because eternity is a long time. You have to say the words. You have to talk to Petal. Petal will forgive you but you have to ask. And not for her, for you. You need to make that first step.” And none of the irony of me giving Katie this speech was lost on me.
Katie stared up at me for a long moment. “Do you feel better now? Do you want to hug it out?”
“I’m glad I hate you. Now, not-crazy lady, I’m going to talk to Officer Leonard at the door—I won’t invite him in,” I added quickly when her posture stiffened, “But I’m guessing he’s here for a purpose. We should probably find out what.”
When she made no move to object, I dodged the puddle of tea and made it to the door. I threw a quick glance over my shoulder but she wasn’t looking for things to throw, so I figured I was safe. I opened the door to find an amused Officer Leonard waiting patiently on the other side.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yep, how can we help you today, Officer Leonard?”
“Well, since every shopping trip this week has been interrupted by the discovery of a dead body, another one has been arranged for this evening. Third time lucky, I suppose. I’m here to escort you.”
“I think we’ll pass, but thank you for the offer.” I looked back to check with Katie. I don’t think she expected me to because she was sipping her tea and the look on her face said she felt like she’d been caught with her hand in the biscuit tin. But she shook her head to say she didn’t want to go either.
Dead and Buried: A Bridget Sway Novel (A Paranormal Ghost Cozy Mystery Series Book 4) Page 21
