by Mary Bowers
They hauled him over the seawall, leaving Pluto, Jazz and assorted flunkies to climb over the wall by themselves.
I had to look away. I’d hauled a drowning victim out of the water myself once. I couldn’t watch. I heard the counting, the squish of the wet clothes against the slim body, the increasing desperation that filled the air around the huddled figures.
“Come on, Seth,” Teddy urged.
I tried to convince myself that it had all been a hoax, a vortex of terror created for the TV cameras, and in a minute Seth would cough a few times, sit up and ask what all the fuss was about, but I didn’t really believe it.
“They’re on the way,” somebody said. “It’s a long way in from the main road, though. Even the ambulance is going to have to take it easy on that dirt road in the dark. Keep pushing.”
The man doing CPR kept pushing.
It finally came home to me that Seth was really dead. Not TV dead. Dead.
I sat down on the ground and cried.
I knew Kyle Longley, the Sheriff of Flagler County. He showed up shortly after the ambulance and came straight to me and Michael.
“What happened?”
Still emotional, I said, “The damn fools pulled a prank to make a TV show, and it went wrong. A man drowned.”
He inhaled loudly through his nostrils. “You have got to be kidding me,” he muttered.
“Does it look like I’m kidding?”
“What kind of a show?”
Michael answered. “A ghost-hunting show. The Realm of the Shadows.”
Kyle gave us an incredulous frown. “Wasn’t that a movie or something? Long time ago?”
“It was a clever idea that caught on. This show is only one of half a dozen reality ghost shows running. I guess they were trying to out-do the competition.”
“By making their own ghosts?” Kyle said. “Well, I’d better go talk to them and see what they have to say for themselves. It was all a phony set-up, you think?”
“I don’t know,” I told him. “Nobody seemed surprised to see him jump into the river, but they genuinely panicked when he didn’t come up again. I think it just went wrong, Kyle. They recorded the whole thing. Make them give you the camera.”
He looked at Michael. “Better take your lady inside now. I’ll talk to you two later, if I need to. She looks about done in.”
For once I didn’t mind a little masculine protectiveness, and when Michael put his arm around me, I held onto it with both hands.
I couldn’t sleep.
We had taken the master bedroom, and we went up and collapsed into bed. About an hour later I realized that staring at the ceiling wasn’t going to take me to dreamland. My body was tired, but my mind was overwrought.
Trying not to disturb Michael, I got out of bed, went down to the great room and turned the TV on with the volume low. Slipping the Realm of the Shadows DVD into the player, I sat down to watch. I was pretty sure it was going to do the trick and put me to sleep. Apparently, Seth hadn’t joined them until a later season; he wasn’t in the early episodes on the disk, or I wouldn’t have been able to watch.
Just before dawn, Michael came down and asked me what I was doing. Then he brewed coffee for us and handed me a cup before he sat down on the sofa beside me.
“Michael, did you look closely at the seawall where Seth jumped in?”
“At the wall? No. I was looking at Seth.”
“Well I glanced at the wall. There was a black mark there, directly below where he was standing. I noticed, because there’s an oyster half-shell embedded in the wall just there, and it always draws my attention.”
“A black mark? Like a palmetto bug?”
“Bigger. It wasn’t a bug, Michael. It was a piece of black electrical tape. Something like that, anyway. I looked for it again when we were standing around waiting for the ambulance to come, but by that time it was gone.”
“Or maybe it was a bug and it just crawled off. They don’t like bright lights, and there were plenty of those in the yard.”
“Oh, maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m making too much of it, but if it was a mark for Seth to use, somebody got rid of it fast. He could have seen it against the seawall, even with the lights far behind him.”
Michael considered it, angled his head and squeezed his eyes in an effort to accept it for evidence, but in the end he shook his head. “Taylor, this is Florida. It was probably a bug. Anyway, there’s no way to prove or disprove it now, and after the accident, naturally they’d want to get rid of any evidence that they’d planned the whole thing.”
“You’re right. Anyway, have a look at this.” I went to the disk menu, randomly selected an episode and forwarded through it until Jazz made her appearance. “See that?”
“See what?”
“There. The earrings.”
Jazz was running around a decrepit mental institution from the 1930s, sustaining minor injuries from some unseen force.
“Do not touch her!” Teddy commanded the ghost as the whole gang ran through the tumble-down halls on the TV. Wasn’t much help. A few seconds later, Jazz got it again and grabbed her shoulder, yelping.
“What about them?”
“Remember when we were standing around with Pluto and Jazz while they filmed Teddy in the cemetery? She took those earrings off and threw them into her bag.”
“Did she? I didn’t notice. She’s a twitchy little thing. She’s always making some jerky little movement.”
“You were standing on the other side of me. She made one of those sudden moves – maybe remembering the plan for last night’s shoot – and ripped those earrings off. I noticed them because they looked expensive. I thought she took them off because they weren’t part of her macho get-up for the show, but look – she’s wearing them in every show. So why did she take them off last night – before the shoot?”
“She also ripped her earrings off when she was trying to get me to sign the release without changing it. It’s just a nervous habit.”
“Yes, but why get all geared up for her part in the show and put the earrings on in the first place? Force of habit. Then she remembered she was jumping into the river later, and took them off. If it was just a nervous habit to play with her earrings, she wouldn’t have thrown them into her bag, where she’d have trouble finding them again before she went on-camera. And she’s in the habit of wearing them on-camera.”
He looked at me, then sipped at his coffee. “Yeah. I suppose that’s a point.”
“Whatever they planned, she was in on it, and she didn’t want to lose those earrings.”
Chapter 7
About four in the morning, Kyle came in for coffee and an egg sandwich, and told us that unless they heard different from the Medical Examiner, they were going to treat it as an accident. Actually, his exact words were, “We’re treating it as death by dumbassedness.” I had little nagging doubts, but I’m sorry to say that at the time I just wanted my property back, and so I was glad it wasn’t going to be complicated.
“By the way,” Kyle said, “do you know some guy named Edison?”
Michael and I exchanged a weary look. “It’s Edson,” I said. “I hired him to investigate some problems we were having.”
“He showed up this morning and we had to run him off. And you knew that Charlie Kermit and his son were hanging around last night, didn’t you?”
“They were? No, I didn’t know. Did you, Michael?”
“No, but we probably should have. He was going to defend the barn against the TV people while they filmed.”
“Defend the barn? Isn’t that above and beyond the call of duty for a contractor?”
“He’s got some work projects going in there,” I said, thinking fast. “He didn’t want the reality-show people messing around where his crew has been working.”
Kyle gave me the “my eye” look, but let it pass. With the exception of the fools from the reality show, everybody in town seemed to know about the barn, and I was pretty sure Kyle did too. Aft
er letting me know I wasn’t fooling him, he shrugged, also letting me know he wasn’t going to go into it – yet. I was grateful.
Instead, he finished the egg sandwich I’d made for him and got ready to go, saying, “We had to send them home, which is where any sensible men would’ve been all along. Shame about that young fella that drowned. He was a good-looking kid with a lot of years ahead of him and a lot of hearts to break. What a waste.”
I went back to bed, and this time I was able to sleep. Michael let me sleep in, and it was nearly noon by the time I got out of bed staggering around and groaning like I’d been out on a bender. Looking like it, too.
Michael brought me coffee and toast, then sat on the edge of the bathtub and watched me eat, dress and put a little make-up on while he caught me up on the latest.
“The crew’s still out there,” he said. “At least some of them are. Teddy’s gone off in his little sports car to wherever a star takes himself when the cameras are off. The others are wandering around the property like lost souls. Every now and then, one of them goes up to the seawall and looks down into the water for a while. Then they walk away, kind of downcast. I’d feel sorry for them if they all weren’t at least partly to blame.”
“I hope they feel guilty,” I said, grumpy and headachy. “What are you up to today?”
“Well, we’ve got to stop by the Sheriff’s Office sometime today; Kyle wants us to give written statements. We can get that out of the way early. Let’s take both of our cars so we can go our separate ways afterward. My foursome plays on Wednesdays, and I don’t see why I should have to cancel. What about you?”
My list of commitments ran quickly through my head and I let out a groan. “First Orphans – then home to check on Shiloh – then Bernie, blast her, and her little cigarillos too, because if I don’t give her an interview about this, she might start getting creative – and I suppose I’d better call Ed and see if he’s coming back today. I’d love to tell him to go over and give Bernie an interview, but he wasn’t there, and I’m not sure I trust him that much just yet.”
“Sounds like fun,” he said.
“Be glad you’re golfing.”
“Oh, I am. See you back here tonight?”
“All of Teddy’s groupies forming a jiggle-blockade around the place wouldn’t keep me away.”
“Hmmm – I think I’d like to rush that blockade myself.”
“Hey, watch it, buster. By the way, have you talked to him, or anybody else in that gang? I can’t believe they’re still here. They’re not going ahead with filming an episode here after what happened, are they? I’d like to give them more credit for class, but all they’re probably thinking about is what this is going to do for their ratings. Tell me I’m wrong – please!”
“Who knows? I haven’t gone out to talk to them, and I’m going to avoid them if I possibly can. I’ve never spent much time around showbiz people before, and I’m not sure what they’re capable of, but I think we can go ahead and assume the worst.”
“I know. Let’s convince Teddy that it’s an evil omen. One by one – they’re all gonna die! He seems pretty dim. He might just buy it.”
“He may be dim, but he’s crafty. And ambitious. There are all different kinds of intelligence, and he was smart enough to get himself a reality show instead of a real job. Apparently, that’s everybody’s dream these days. No, he’s going to believe what he wants to believe, and what he wants to believe is that the show must go on. He’ll probably dedicate the episode to Seth, and then go merrily off after the next ghost.” He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “If I could talk to Graeme, I’m sure I could get his okay to throw them out on their keisters, especially with that wild story about his grandmother they’ve come up with. Where did that come from, anyway?”
“I have no idea. Maybe Ed can find out. He may as well earn his fee somehow. With all this going on outside, the lady in the barn is probably hiding.”
With our agendas straight, we carefully locked up the house (we weren’t putting anything past Teddy) and headed for the Sheriff’s Office.
At the Sheriff’s Office, we sat down with a deputy for a short time and gave her the bare bones of the story. Just the facts, ma’am. Then we signed the statements and went our separate ways.
I didn’t mention my suspicions about the mark on the seawall, or Jazz removing her favorite earrings before the shoot. At the time, I just didn’t want any more complications, and I didn’t feel I had enough to show the tragedy wasn’t just because of, well, dumbassedness.
Chapter 8
With that taken care of, I looked forward to checking in at Orphans. We had a new stray, a German Shepherd mix we’d named Tuesday, for the day she was found, and I wanted to see how she was settling in.
“Omigodwhathappenedlastnight?” Angie blurted when she saw me. She was at the reception desk, and a volunteer, Vivian Dear, was sitting down chatting with her.
“A guy drowned,” I said.
“I know that! Everybody in town knows that! How did it happen?”
“Honey, all I know is, I didn’t do it.”
“What’s he like in person?” she asked. “Are his eyes really – you know – like that.”
“Seth?”
“No! Teddy. On TV his eyes look all misty and hypnotic. Are they like that in person?”
“Good lord.”
Vivian, who was old enough to know better, said, “My favorite is Wizard. He’s so sad, you just want to cuddle him.”
I stared at Vivian. She’s a small, round lady, close to 80 years old, with wispy white hair and an air of good old-fashioned innocence about her.
“Teddy’s obnoxious,” I snapped. When their faces fell, I regretted it. “Oh, guys, I’m sorry, you have to excuse me. It was a long night and somebody died. It was awful. Yes, Angie, Teddy’s eyes are very attractive in person. A really strange green. I guess you could call them hypnotic. Word is he thinks so. And I liked Wizard best of all too, Viv, but I haven’t actually met him yet.”
“So Teddy Force is some kind of prima donna, is that what you’re saying?” Angie asked.
“What can I say? He’s a star, and he knows it.”
“I don’t care,” Angie said. “He can park his EMP meter on my night stand any time.”
Vivian smiled prettily and said, “Give Wizard a hug for me.”
“Okay.” Wouldn’t Wizard be surprised? Or maybe not. He probably had his groupies, just like Teddy.
I was finally able to get to the point of my visit, beyond generally checking in and making sure the roof hadn’t fallen in. “Is Tuesday settling in?”
“Oh, that poor thing,” Angie said.
I froze. “What?”
“She’s been Porterized, poor baby.”
“Porterized? That bulldog Porter got at her? What did he do?”
She lowered her brows and gave me a dark look. “He tried to play with her.”
“Oh no!”
“I think he likes her.”
“Poor Tuesday! How is she?”
She tried to think of a better word, but “Porterized” about said it all.
I went back to the gentle Shepherd-mix and gave her a good looking-over. Her traumatic encounter with fifty-plus pounds of solid British beef was all too apparent. I could see a rim of white showing around her eyes, and when she saw me, she let out a low howl.
I let myself into her suite and checked her over. She wasn’t hurt, just a little bug-eyed. “Don’t worry,” I murmured, massaging the rich fur of her nape. “We’ll keep that wild critter away from you from now on.”
I didn’t need another thing right now. Somehow we were going to have to deal with that four-footed force of nature, because I was beginning to think Porter was unadoptable, unless Zeus was looking for a pet.
I gave her as much time as I could, but I couldn’t settle down myself, knowing what the rest of my day was going to be like, and Tuesday was picking up my agitation. I gave her flat brow a pat between her upright e
ars and looked deeply into her eyes. “Be a good girl, now,” I murmured. At least the whites of her eyes had disappeared.
I moved on to the house. Angie, who was due for her lunch break, came along with me while another volunteer took over at reception.
Angie had been cleaning for me. I could see it right away.
“You don’t have to mop the floors!” I told her.
I reached down and patted Shiloh. I had only adopted her a couple of weeks before, and we were still settling in together, so it wasn’t a good time for a separation. I fussed over her for a little while, feeling guilty.
“I gotta do something,” Angie said. ”Want to have lunch with me? I’ll make some sandwiches. Hey, relax! Shiloh was all nice and happy to see us, and now you’ve got her panting. You need to slow down, Taylor.”
“No, I need to speed up. I have to go into town now and give Bernie and interview, and I want to get it out of the way as fast as I can, because I’m dreading it.”
“Not even a muffin? Your favorite: blueberry. Nice and fresh; I made them this morning.”
I got my go-cup out of the cabinet. “Okay, coffee and a muffin to go. And let me have one of those cleaning wipes. After grilled cheese yesterday and a muffin today, my steering wheel’s going to need it.”
I cornered Bernie in her lair – a house in Tropical Breeze on Palmetto Street, just down the block from my faithful Florence’s house. Bernie operates The Beach Buzz out of her home, in a back room that looks like the remains of an explosion at a paper factory. On the drive into town I tried to work on my spin-meister skills, but there just wasn’t any way to spin this.
I was wound up and ready to go when she answered the door, and before she could say anything I blurted, “Yeah, a guy drowned. What else do you want to know? They’re a gang of idiots, and they’re making up stories and cooking up lame-brained stunts because Teddy’s afraid he’s about to lose his show. But that’s got nothing to do with me or Orphans.”
She waited till I wound down, gazing up with intelligent brown eyes. “Well, what a surprise, you dropping in like this. Won’t you come in?”
