Skeptic in Salem: An Episode of Death

by Fiona Grace

  Mia walked over and sat on the steps with Connie.

  “What makes you say Lydia would never hurt a soul?” Mia said.

  “She told me so in a dream. She told me I needed to take my husband to the doctor. If I’d only listened, Dean would still be here.”

  “What about the other ghosts?” Sylvie said.

  “The Browder family?” Connie said. “They were restless, but harmless.”

  “Listen, Connie, when you were in the house, did you ever feel something terrible, a feeling of dread?” Mia said.

  “No. When Dean died I couldn’t afford to fix it up, so I moved out and tried to sell it to someone who appreciates history.”

  “Connie, Cindy was supposed to meet a buyer the night she was killed. Does the name Fat Cat mean anything to you?”

  “Fat Cat? Is that what they call themselves now? Is that a rap name?”

  “Close, it’s a name in an Internet forum,” Sylvie said.

  “No, can’t say that I recognize that name,” Connie said.

  “Cindy made a note she was considering getting a restraining order?”

  Connie slapped her knee and laughed.

  “That’s why I hired her! All these Hollywood types and vultures. I told her to keep them away from me. I’m surprised you two found me,” Connie said. “Anyway, I’ve decided not to sell. I’m going to wait for someone who can appreciate the bones of that house.”

  “Can I ask you one more question?” Mia said.

  “Shoot,” Connie said.

  “Where were you the night Cindy died?” Mia said.

  “I was playing five-card draw at the rotary club. I cleaned them out too, “ Connie said and chuckled.

  At that moment, a Swampscott Police Ford Explorer pulled up in front of the house. Mia cringed as Detective Charlie Waite climbed out and spotted the little soiree in the side yard. He trudged over to the security fence.

  “Well, well, well,” he said, walking up to the fence. “If it isn’t Mia Bold. You seem to be everywhere I go these days.”

  “Hello, Detective Waite,” Mia said.

  “You know these gals, Charlie?” Connie said.

  “Sure I do,” Waite said. “Ms. Bold here found Cindy dead in your house.”

  “You don’t say,” Connie said. “And I was betting you wanted permission to film.”

  “I think our boss is going to call you about that, ma’am,” Sylvie said.

  “Film away,” Connie said and sipped her coffee. “Maybe I’ll get some publicity.”

  “What are you doing here, Ms. Bold?” Waite said, leaning casually on the fence.

  “The same thing you are, Detective,” Mia said. “I’m looking for answers.”

  “It seems a little odd the way you keep turning up around town. Howard Adler swears he didn’t see you but he had a magazine signed by you.”

  “Oh wow, a fan?” Mia said and whistled for Tandy, who was rolling in a pile of something green. He responded immediately by springing up and loping across the yard.

  “Looks like they found the manure,” Connie Carol said wryly.

  “Thanks for talking to us, Connie,” Mia said.

  “No skin off my back,” Connie said.

  Detective Waite opened the gate for Mia and Sylvie and escorted them to their car. As soon as Mia, Sylvie, and Tandy were inside, he leaned on Mia’s open window.

  “So, you read Cindy Moore’s appointment book, huh? I heard about your little car stunt. You’re lucky I don’t haul you into the station.”

  “For what exactly?” Sylvie said. “Accessing public Wi-Fi?”

  “Listen, I’m going to give you gals some free advice. When you follow a trail blind, it sometimes leads you down a dangerous road.”

  “We’ll be careful, Detective,” Mia said and pulled out of the driveway.

  As they drove away, Detective Charlie Waite watched them with his arms folded. As they pulled around the corner, Mia relaxed and sniffed the air.

  “What is that smell?” Mia said.

  “I think Connie Carol wasn’t kidding. Tandy and Lucky rolled in poop,” Sylvie said and lowered her window.

  “Oh good God! I have to go to dinner with my parents tonight!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Mia, Sylvie, and Tandy arrived at the Essex Street apartment. Before heading upstairs, Mia took Tandy around to the front of the building and knocked on the shop window. Inside she could see Tom Hatter puttering about, unpacking boxes while Will held a clipboard. Tom was counting plastic bags full of witch-key fobs and ghost shot glasses in order to replenish the supply of trinkets and souvenirs lining the shelves.

  Tom Hatter saw Mia and nudged Will, who came to the front door. The older man sauntered behind him and leaned on the door frame. Old Tom was a bit of a busybody when it came to Salem.

  “What is that smell?” Tom said. “Reminds me of my granddad’s farm.”

  “Whoa,” Will said, wrinkling his nose.

  “I have an emergency, as you’ve noticed,” Mia said. “Will? Want to make some money?”

  Will looked toward Tom, who nodded.

  “Gotta keep my favorite tenants happy,” Tom said.

  “I have to go out with my parents tonight,” Mia said. “Tandy needs to see the groomer. And my car smells just as bad as him.” She handed her keys to Will along with cash for the groomer and the two jobs.

  “Great,” Will said, happy. “I’ll take him home afterwards.”

  “Just let yourself in,” Mia said, handing him Tandy’s lead.

  Tandy’s ears were down as he looked from Mia to Will, trying to work out if he was in trouble. Mia kissed Tandy’s nose.

  “I’ll see you later, have fun,” Mia said.

  Will and Tandy walked down the street as passersby abruptly scattered at the approach of their pungent scent.

  Mia and Sylvie headed up the steps to the second floor.

  “We still don’t know who killed Cindy,” Sylvie said.

  “Someone knows who Mr. Fat Cat is, we just have to find them,” Mia said.

  As they reached the landing, a group text from Graham Stone to the Middletons arrived with the signature ringtone assigned to Graham—“Funkytown” by Lipps, Inc.

  The Tavern on the Green

  Hawthorne Hotel—8pm

  The Hawthorne Hotel? Mia smiled to herself. Maybe this dinner wouldn’t be so awful after all.

  “Graham booked dinner at the last place my real dad’s mobile was traced to, according to Suzy Sharpe,” Mia said, excited at the thought.

  “Well, at least it won’t be a total bust,” Sylvie said. “After having breakfast with your parental units, I’m kind of afraid for you. I don’t think Graham is their idea of civilized company.”

  “I can handle Graham,” Mia said. “I think. I’m more worried about Brynn and Jeffrey.”

  “Sounds like you have your hands full.” Sylvie grinned and headed toward her apartment. “I’m going to kick back and order a pizza. Oh yeah, and I wouldn’t trust Suzy Sharpe.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Mia said.

  “Good luck tonight!” Sylvie said, yawning and disappeared into her apartment.

  Mia walked into her own apartment. Brynn was relaxing on the couch watching Wife Swap on Lifetime with Rose curled up in her lap.

  “Hey, Mimi,” Brynn said. “This is such a funny episode! One lady is married to a biker and the other one is married to a stay-at-home husband. How did your research go?”

  “I made a little progress,” Mia said. “What have you been up to all day? I would have thought Mom and Daniel would have homed in on you by now.”

  “They’ve been so busy antiquing they don’t have time to do anything else. Usually, Jeffy and I would be going to open houses, but I’m still mad at him. So then I thought Salem must have a decent day spa but I need a car. I’ve been so bored, Mimi! You wouldn’t want to go with me, would you?”

  “To a day spa? Why would I do that?”

  “It was wor
th a try,” Brynn said huffily.

  “Do you want some coffee before we get ready for tonight?”

  “I’d love some,” Brynn said. “Where’s Tandy?”

  “He’s at the groomers,” Mia said. “Kind of an emergency. We had a roll in the manure incident.”

  “Oh,” Brynn said and sniffed the air. “For you too, I think.”

  Rose hopped up on the edge of the couch and placed her paws on Mia, stretching up to touch her nose in greeting.

  “Have you heard from Jeffrey?” Mia said.

  “He’s been texting me every hour,” Brynn said and held her phone up for Mia to inspect. Mia scrolled down the increasingly aggravated texts from Jeffrey.

  9 a.m.: Brynn? Where are you? I’m freezing.

  10 a.m.: I think there’s something wrong with this room.

  11 a.m.: Hey, what’s that sound? Is that you???!

  12 p.m.: If you don’t answer me I’m filing for divorce.

  1 p.m.: Sorry babe! I didn’t mean it. This room is messed up.

  2 p.m.: Slipped in the shower and banged my head.

  3 p.m.: Are you going to answer???

  4 p.m.: Fine! I’ll see you at dinner.

  5 p.m.: Who is this Graham guy?

  6 p.m.: Babe? You there or what? Ow! Covfefe…

  “What are you going to do?” Mia asked. “He seems a little nervous.”

  Brynn looked at Mia contemplatively.

  “I’m not sure. I’m sick of the way he treats me, like the maid.”

  “Honestly, you’re too good for him,” Mia said.

  “Well, he’s officially on notice as far as I’m concerned,” Brynn said. “I guess we better get ready.”

  Mia took a steamy shower, slathering her body with vanilla and amber body wash. As soon as she dried off, Mia tied the towel around her torso and combed through her dark curls before lightly applying makeup, lip gloss, and mascara. Then she topped her look off with antique amethyst drop earrings, a gift from her stepfather, and slipped into a lilac Soutache sheath dress. She walked into the living room and turned her back toward Brynn.

  “Can you zip me up?” Mia said.

  “Of course, Mimi,” Brynn said. “My, but don’t you clean up good, sis.”

  Brynn looked perfect, as usual, dressed in a gorgeous winter floral Charmeuse dress with white flowers on china-blue and paired with pearls and navy pumps. Just as they were ready to go, Will knocked on the door.

  “It’s open,” Mia said

  Will let himself in.

  “Whoa! You guys look awesome,” he said.

  “Thanks,” Mia said. “How did it go?”

  “I forgot to tell the groomer no feathers,” Will said sheepishly. “But I got your car washed. It’s spic and span.” He handed Mia the car keys.

  Tandy trotted into the apartment, freshly shampooed and smelling lovely with two blue tufts of feathers bobbing on his ears. He looked up at Mia, emanating humiliation, snorted, and sank down, putting his head in his paws.

  Rose pattered over to sniff the feathers and started batting at Tandy’s ears. He groaned but put up with her little white paws tossing his ears back and forth.

  “Well, don’t you look special,” Brynn said.

  “Will? Would you mind feeding the fur babies?” Mia said. “We’re on the edge of being late.”

  “No problem,” Will said. “How does Rose like the cat run?”

  “She loves it,” Mia said. “Thanks!”

  Mia and Brynn headed for the car. As they climbed inside Mia noted that Will had done an amazing job. The upholstery smelled fresh and the vinyl was shiny and clean.

  Mia started the car up and looked at Brynn.

  “Time to face the music,” Mia said.

  “I hope Jeffy doesn’t make a scene,” Brynn said.

  “Seriously, Brynn? You read those texts. I can guarantee you Jeffrey is going to be coiled up and ready to spring.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Brynn said. “Listen, Mimi, if I turn into a doormat, promise to pinch me?”

  “Promise,” Mia said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  The tall and stately Hawthorne Hotel was a six-story, red-brick building and a perfect example of Colonial Revival–style architecture. Daniel would be pleased with the location at least. What concerned Mia most was Graham. His cheesy Hollywood persona embodied all of Daniel’s complaints about the “tackiness” of the entertainment business. Mia knew her stepfather and he didn’t suffer fools lightly.

  After the valet took the car, Mia and Brynn walked into the Tavern on the Green, with its bright, garlanded windows under brown awnings. The restaurant faced Salem common and was situated on the first floor of the Hawthorne Hotel, next to the grand ballroom. Their heels clicked on the tile as they walked through the entrance and into the great room. The Tavern was paneled in warm wood and featured a fireplace and a long wooden bar with leather barstools. Scattered around a green, brocade carpet were wooden tables flanked by wing-backed chairs. The whole effect was relaxed, but traditional.

  Mia and Brynn spotted Graham sitting at one of three tables that had been moved together. On seeing Brynn, Graham sprang to his feet and waved.

  Brynn stopped and sucked in her breath, startled.

  “Does he always dress like that?” she whispered.

  “Sometimes worse,” Mia whispered back.

  Graham was dressed in a black shirt with an embroidered toreador pattern on each shoulder, like a suit of lights. His trousers were skin tight with flared legs and a set of odd patch pockets in the front. A gold belt divided the two hemispheres of his body, echoing the sparkling embroidery on his shoulders. His hair was a full on ’70s do with a fluffy side part. Mia’s worst nightmare, his Burt Reynolds mustache, seemed to be coming along nicely.

  Then from the bar, Johnny Astor walked toward the table, looking absolutely stunning. He had chosen a sable-colored suit for the occasion which he layered with a deep maroon waist coat, dark silk shirt, and tie underneath. He smiled and waved when he saw Mia.

  “Is that your co-host?” Brynn said. “My goodness, he is gorgeous!”

  “He has a star quality,” Mia said.

  “You both do,” Brynn said. “Are you sure you don’t want to date him?”

  “Shhhhhh,” Mia said, alarmed as the distance shortened between them.

  “You look lovely,” Johnny said sweetly.

  Mia felt her knees turn to jelly as the full intensity of his deep, hazel eyes took in her dress.

  “And you look quite dashing,” Mia said.

  “And you must be Brynn?” Johnny said, turning on the full force of his smile.

  “I sure am,” Brynn said.

  Johnny pulled out a seat for Mia by his side while Graham scrambled to greet Brynn, taking her hand and kissing it.

  Brynn’s eyes seemed to send out an SOS.

  “This is your seat, gorgeous,” Graham said and pulled out a wingback chair for her, sandwiching her between him and Johnny.

  “So, this is Johnny Astor,” Brynn said. “The Internet is abuzz.”

  “I’ve heard all about you too,” Johnny said. “Great things.”

  Brynn smiled and sniffed the air before tilting her head curiously at Mia, who whispered “Axe Cologne” and inclined her head toward Graham.

  Waiters began to bustle about the table setting up water glasses. The dining hall was modestly full with a low easy chatter in the background.

  “So, Graham, have you heard back from the network?” Johnny said. “Any chance of a reprieve timewise?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Graham said. “Either the cops clear up this Elmswood House nightmare or we’re in trouble. If I have to refund the advertisers, there goes our working capital.”

  “Ahem,” Mia said, indicating Brynn with her head. The last thing she needed was her family finding out about Cindy Moore’s murder or Brynn worrying about her getting involved with the police. They had no idea Mia had stumbled onto a dead body and she wanted to
keep it that way.

  “What do you mean, cops?” Brynn said. “Mimi? Are you in trouble again?”

  “Me? Of course not,” Mia said. “It’s just, um—”

  “Permits!” Johnny said and smiled. “We’re waiting for a filming permit.”

  “Oh,” Brynn said, impressed.

  Graham stared at Johnny as if he’d gone quite mad.

  “Yeah, this house we’re working at is a bit of a wreck.” Graham took a deep breath, ready to mansplain the situation to Brynn. “The real estate agent who showed me the place—ow!”

  Graham stared at Johnny, who had just kicked him under the table.

  “Pointed out some production insurance issues,” Johnny said. “You know red tape, right, Graham?”

  “Sure, I guess,” Graham said, bending down and rubbing his shin.

  Suddenly, Mia spotted her mother, stepfather, and Reynolds walking into the restaurant, dressed for dinner. Daniel had pulled out all the stops. Both he and Reynolds wore waistcoats. Daniel’s had a pocket watch chain hanging from one of his breast pockets. Madison had dressed elegantly in a woven Chanel dinner suit in shades of linen, cream, and pewter.

  They walked over to the table.

  “Well, you two young ladies look lovely,” Daniel said in his best huffy voice. “You must be the producer?” Daniel extended his hand.

  Graham took it and began pumping his arm.

  “At your service, Mr. Middleton,” Graham said. “And this is Johnny Astor, the star of our show.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, sir,” Johnny said and stood up to shake Daniel’s hand. The cynical remark that Daniel was about to make dried up on his lips in response to Johnny’s impeccable manners. But when he saw Johnny’s waistcoat, even he had to nod his approval. He shook his hand firmly.

  “My assistant, and our dear family friend, Reynolds,” he said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Johnny said.

  Daniel took his place at the head of the table, with Madison and Reynolds on either side. The maître d’ led a crowd of diners across the room. Trailing behind them was Jeffrey.