Murder Ghost Foul: The Complete Mystic Springs Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series

by Mona Marple

  I groan.

  “I’m not sure that helps you, sir. Maybe you had no serious intent when you posted it, but the curse gave you the perfect cover to kill and get away with it.”

  “Oh, this is rubbish.” Atticus says.

  “I think we’re done here, for now.” Taylor says.

  **

  “You were so careful about saying you thought it was him. You didn’t just assume he was guilty of sending that letter, even though he clearly was!” I say as the Sheriff drives me home. The day is disappearing, daylight being swallowed by the sunset, and an early band of trick or treaters are knocking on the door of a sprawling house whose path is lined with pumpkins of every shape, size and colour.

  “I have to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. He could have been set up.”

  “You’re a good man.”

  “I’ve been anything but a good man in my past, Connie. But I’ve changed.”

  9

  Sage

  “Guys!” I call, pausing the live TV until Connie and my daughters join me in the sitting room. “You gotta see this.”

  I press play and the screen shows a familiar face.

  “Boyd Skipton!” Sandy calls out, sitting on the edge of her seat. I don’t know whether to be proud or concerned about that one’s interest in the murder case.

  “He’s in town?” Coral asks, spotting that he’s standing in front of the Skipton and Self offices. Barb the leather-skinned receptionist stands in the background, flashing a made-for-TV smile.

  “Apparently.” I say. “This is getting interesting.”

  “Boyd, Boyd, can you give us a quote?” A reporter calls.

  Boyd turns, simmering anger as his long greasy hair falls over his eyes. He glares right at the camera. “What kind of quote would you like? One about how heartbroken I am that my wonderful daddy’s been killed? Nah. Not happening.”

  “Ooh, he’s venomous.”

  “He’s here for the reading of the Will.” Connie says. “It was mentioned in the paper. They have to publicise it, give all the interested parties a chance to attend.”

  “I’m a very interested party! I’d like to be a fly in that room.” I exclaim.

  “You could go.” Connie says, with a shrug. “It’s a public reading.”

  I’m up in a flash, Sandy by my side. Coral’s dressed in her pyjamas and that girl takes nearly as long to get ready as I used to, so we don’t invite her. And Connie stands with her mouth open wide, in disbelief that we’re really going.

  “Don’t do anything stupid.” She urges as we trot out of the door before sprinting across town to the Skipton and Self offices.

  The door’s wide open and a small sign has been erected advising that the public reading of the Will is taking place today. We enter the office, nod sharply towards Barb, and take a seat in the reception area.

  To our surprise, it’s us, Barb and Boyd, nobody else.

  “Are you expecting many more?” I ask Barb, who tap-taps away on her computer and shakes her head without looking at us.

  “Boyd, how are you doing?” A tall, pleasant-looking man asks, entering the office.

  “Sirius Thoms.” Sandy whispers, leaning in close. “The lawyer.”

  “Ready to bust out of this place.” Boyd says. His anger’s reminiscent of teenage angst and seems out of place in a grown man. “I told you you didn’t have to come. I can feed it back to everyone.”

  Sirius nods and offers up his palms, apologetic. “I don’t really have a choice, I’m afraid.”

  “Are we starting yet?” Boyd snaps, directing the comment to the group as a whole.

  Barb looks up at him, continuing to type as her eyes leave the screen. “The lawyer ain’t here yet, doll.”

  “darn lawyers, charge you by the minute and always run late.” Boyd says.

  I glance at Sirius apologetically.

  “Sirius Thoms, pleased to meet you.” He says, showing no surprise that I’m a spirit. “Love your costume. Very realistic. This place really throws themselves into Hallowe’en, hey.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I say, deciding it’s easier to go along with than explain the truth.

  A small, wizened man appears then, shuffling into the door slowly, his tiny weight supported by an intricate walking stick, a small manila folder tucked under his arm.

  “Took your time, Godfrey.” Boyd snarls.

  “Oh, Master Skipton. Marvellous to see you! Marvellous!” He says, peering at the man over his glasses. “Barbara, looking delightful as always. Is this it? Shall we take over the grand office? Lock the door, don’t want to be interrupted. Hate being interrupted.”

  “Yes, Mr Lane.” Barb says, springing to her feet. She closes and locks the door and leads our party of six into Mr Skipton’s office, which has been emptied since we illegally entered it. The table remains and a stack of chairs stands in the corner, which Barb begins arranging. Sirius jumps in to lend a hand.

  “So, erm, very good.” Godfrey Lane murmurs, still following us into the room by the time the rest of us have arranged chairs and sat down. He looks to be easily over 100 years old.

  “Let’s get on with it.” Boyd urges, feet up on his dead father’s desk. He hasn’t even glanced at Sandy and I, and I wonder if he’s so focused on his pent-up anger that he hasn’t noticed us, or if he’s genuinely that disinterested.

  “Quite.” Godfrey says, a hacking cough delaying his final few steps to his seat. He spots Boyd’s feet on the desk. “Master Skipton, please. Your mother’s raised you better than that.”

  At the mention of Boyd’s mother, one of the many ex-wives, Boyd removes his feet from the table and sits straight in his chair. She sounds like a force to be reckoned with, if even a mention of her elicits that response.

  “So, all as expected really. All to pass to the eldest child, Master Boyd Skipton, with a gift of one million dollars to pass to Barbara Wright in gratitude for her many years’ service, and a similar gift to myself.”

  darnit, I should have been a lawyer. A million dollars!

  “We do have an issue with dividing the estate.” Sirius murmurs, and I wonder how such a quiet, thoughtful man ended up in such a combative career as law. “There is a claim, a group claim, to be made on behalf of the children and former wives.”

  “Indeed.” Godfrey says. “Has this been filed?”

  “Yes, sir.” Sirius says.

  “What is it the group are asking for, out of interest?”

  “They want what they’re entitled to.” Boyd says. “It’s a fair assessment of the maintenance and spousal support he should have been paying.”

  “The estate totals $12 million. Can it fund such a claim?” Godfrey asks.

  “Yes, sir.” Sirius says. “The parties have never wanted to take everything from Bruce Skipton, it’s been about receiving what they have been entitled to and denied.”

  “It will be for the Court to decide, then. The estate will remain untouched until the claim is settled.”

  “I’m the beneficiary?” Boyd asks, as if the realisation has just hit him.

  “Indeed.”

  “There has to be a mistake. The man hated me.”

  “That’s not my remit.” Godfrey says, pulling a fountain pen from the breast pocket of his blazer. His hand shakes as he makes notes on his legal pad.

  “I’ll pay them.” Boyd says, his words stunning us all. He glance at Sirius. “I can do that, right?”

  “Yes, sir. You simply consent to the claim being settled out of your beneficial interest. You’ll need to instruct a different lawyer or it could be seen as a conflict of interest. It’s straightforward. I can recommend…” Sirius explains, rubbing his chin as he considers which colleague to refer this work to.

  “Can’t he do it?” Boyd asks, gesturing towards the elderly lawyer.

  Godfrey glances up at him. “He certainly can.”

  “That’s sorted then. And everyone’s a darn sight happier than when he was alive.”

  “Mast
er Skipton.” Godfrey scolds. He peers over his glasses and takes in the sight of me and Sandy. “I saw this young man when he was shorter than my stick. Hard to believe now.”

  “You did?” Boyd asks, the memories clearly gone for him.

  “Couldn’t get ya out of the place, sunshine.” Barb adds with a wry smile. “You were such a mini version of your father.”

  “That’s rubbish.”

  “What did you end up doing for work, Master Skipton?”

  “Well, I went into property investing, but that’s nothing to do with him. I had no head start from him, nothing. My mom worked three jobs so I had a bit of money behind me to get started with.”

  “Of course she did.” Godfrey murmurs. “Very impressive woman, your mother. My favourite, if I had to have one. Your father’s too, I think. Never quite got over her.”

  “He should have kept it in his pants, then.” Boyd says, the crudity of his words making me blush.

  “You’ll get no argument from us on that score.” Barb says with a smile.

  “So this company’s mine?” Boyd asks, glancing around the office.

  “Yes, sir.” Godfrey confirms. “You’ll be able to settle the claim and retain the company. Or give relatives a stake in the company.”

  “And what are you going to do? Now you’ve got money?” Boyd asks, looking across at the secretary.

  “I’ll be coming to work every day like I always have, until there’s no more deals to do and them doors close. So, if you’re keepin’ this place, I’ll look forward to working for ya, Master Skipton.”

  “Call me Boyd.” The young man says.

  “Boyd it is. Ya can call me Barb.”

  I shake my head at the happy ending and look across at Sandy.

  “We should go.” I say. She nods.

  We offer awkward waves to the rest of the gathering and head back out of the office.

  Sandy unlocks the front door and we walk out, almost bumping into a young woman in red leather boots and a minidress, her cleavage firm and large enough to eat your dinner off.

  “Is Brucey in? He’s been a very naughty boy.” She breathes, then blows a pink bubblegum bubble.

  We glance at each other and stifle a laugh.

  “Erm, no, and you might want to check the news before next week.”

  **

  “Boyd’s still a suspect.” Connie says as we update them back at the house. “And Sirius too.”

  “Boyd maybe.” I agree. “He was so angry. And he was fighting for all the wives and children, not just himself, so he definitely had motive. But Sirius, I don’t buy it. He seems like a real gent.”

  “We can’t discount everyone who seems nice. Plenty of killers are charming, and plenty of horrid people never kill.” Connie says.

  “You’re right, Aunt Connie. We need to speak to them both.” Coral says, still in her pyjamas.

  “Okay, well they’ll be wrapping things up at the office soon. Why don’t I head back out and try to catch them?” I offer.

  “You think they’ll speak to a spirit, or you need one of us with you?” Connie asks.

  “Sirius thinks I’m wearing the best Hallowe’en costume.” I say with a laugh. “I dunno how he’ll feel if he realises the truth.”

  “I’ll go back out with you, mum.” Sandy offers. And so we trudge back across town, no sprinting this time, just in time to see Sirius Thoms leave the offices of Skipton and Self.

  “Mr Thoms!” Sandy calls out. He pauses, car key in hand, and smiles when he realises who we are. “Could we speak to you? Maybe get you a drink?”

  “Well, sure.” He says, clearly a people-pleaser.

  He follows us across to the DQ where Sandy and him each order a strawberry thick shake, and I demurely refuse his repeated offers to order a drink on him.

  “So, ladies, what was your interest in the Will reading?” He asks. A fair question.

  “We’re actually helping the Sheriff investigate the murder.” Sandy says. I gape at her. She’s good! “You know, there are some places he can’t show up, it changes how people act. So he asked us to attend. See what’s what.”

  “Ah.” Sirius says. “I like it. Collaborative law enforcement. Very good. And did you see anything interesting?”

  “The whole thing was fascinating.” Sandy admits. “Did you know what the Will was going to say?”

  “I had my suspicions.” Sirius says.

  “You’re the lawyer for the claim against the estate, right?” I ask.

  “Well, it was a claim against Bruce, until he passed. Now it’s a claim against the estate.”

  “Very good of Boyd to settle it like he is.”

  Sirius shrugs. “He’s a very decent young man, deep down. The anger makes him forget that sometimes. Makes him do silly things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, the comments to reporters don’t help him. And his poor mother, she doesn’t appreciate them.”

  “She sounds like a character.”

  “The only Skipton wife to leave.” Sirius says with an admiring smile. “Not that I’m criticising the others for sticking around until he got rid of them. But Lucille, she has some metal in her. Knew he was playing away, disrespecting her, knew that Boyd was watching that and didn’t want him growing up thinking that was how women should be treated. So she packed up and left.”

  “And Bruce didn’t support her?”

  “She knew he wouldn’t.” Sirius says. “That’s why it took real bravery to do what she did.”

  “It sounds like you’re close to the family?” Sandy says. “If I can call them that? It almost seems like the ex-wives and children have made a family on their own, all of them?”

  “Oh, no, not really.” Sirius says with a hiccup of a laugh. “Remember, each new wife started as a mistress. Lots of distrust between them all. It’s Lucille really who took charge of things, organised them enough to make the group claim. But they’re certainly not one happy family.”

  “Oh.” I say. “Boyd made it sound almost like he was taking on the fight for everyone.”

  “I’ve no doubt that Boyd’s hate for his father would make him take on anyone else’s fight against the man.” Sirius says with a wink. “It’s not unreasonable for him to feel that way. Bruce Skipton behaved badly.”

  “How well did you know Bruce?”

  “Not at all. Only through what the group told me. And that may not all have been the most accurate assessment, you know. I’m sure the man did some good. I mean, the way he looked after the secretary in his Will, that’s rare to see.”

  “Yeah. I was surprised by that.” I admit. “Do you think they were more than just colleagues?”

  “Oh no. My bet is the only reason he respected her enough to leave her a cent is because it was purely professional between them.”

  “So, in all the time you were dealing with this claim, you never really poked beneath the surface of the man?”

  “I never met the man.” Sirius says, then lowers his long neck in for a satisfying slurp of his thick shake. The act seems too intimate and I have to glance away.

  “You never met him?” Sandy asks, looking across the table towards me.

  “Never.”

  “But you had a meeting with him, the day before he died.” I say.

  “Ah!” Sirius exclaims.

  I narrow my eyes. If he’s about to suggest he’d forgotten the meeting, that’s it, I’ll pretty much arrest him here and now. Citizen’s arrest. That’s a thing, right?

  “Well?” I ask.

  “He never turned up.” Sirius says, raising his eyebrows towards us.

  “What?” Sandy asks. “Why would he let you fly in and then not meet with you?”

  “Mind games.” Sirius says. “I was half expecting it. But it’s my duty to try and reach an out-of-court settlement, so when he agreed to the meeting, I had to come. It’s one of his regular stunts, I believe. Kind of a power play.”

  “That’s horrible.” Sandy says. “What
a waste of your time.”

  “And a waste of the family’s money, which he knew, of course. Someone had to pay. Luckily, Boyd has done fairly well for himself, so he was funding the majority of my work, but still… it’s a shame.”

  “So you turned up and waited for him?” I push.

  “Right here, in fact.” He gestures to our setting.

  “I find it hard to believe Bruce Skipton conducts his meetings in a Dairy Queen.” I scoff. Isn’t property development all about sleek high-rises and huge meeting rooms?

  “He never intended to come, remember. He picked this place because it’s right in sight of his office.”

  “Ugh, what a moron.” I say.

  “I sat here enjoying one of these delicious thick shakes, and after an hour or so I strolled across to the offices and explained to the lovely Barb that it would seem Mr Skipton had forgotten our meeting.”

  “You waited a whole hour?”

  He shrugs. “I have to be patient in my line of work.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She offered to reschedule for a fortnight’s time.” He says, and he actually grins, like you’ve got to give the woman credit for her cheek.

  “Wow.” Sandy says. “He wasn’t there? I was imagining a showdown in his office between you both.”

  “I’m not really a showdown kind of person.” Sirius says. “He was there, though. His car was in the lot. Apparently, he was otherwise engaged in his office.”

  “Huh.” I say, my mind flashing back to the blonde outside his office earlier. “I’ll bet he was.”

  “You must have been pretty annoyed by him snubbing you like that?”

  Sirius takes a deep breath and signals to the waitress for the check. “I know where this is going. I wasn’t annoyed, I wasn’t even mildly surprised to be frank. But I was disappointed. I was disappointed for my clients. Nobody wants to have to end up in court fighting for something they should have been given freely. I didn’t kill Bruce Skipton, ladies. I’ve had many people not show up to meetings with me, and do much worse, and I haven’t killed any of them.”