by Krista Davis
A number of people gasped. One man laughed and said, “Nonsense.”
She spread her hands wide. “When you leave here today, notice how many old buildings you pass. Washington is loaded with them. And, of course, Georgetown was founded in 1751, so we know there have to be many ghosts here.”
She walked across the room to the show window at the front of the store. “You see, once upon a time, people didn’t just die in hospitals like they typically do today. Most of them died in their own homes. The family would place the body in the parlor, in a room much like this one, and receive their bereaved friends and relatives there. So you may well have had a corpse on display in your living room!”
The crowd murmured. I hoped no children were listening. They would have nightmares.
“Of course, they required someone to transport the bodies to the graveyard. Certain members of the community handled that task. As time went on, they undertook other matters regarding the dead, as well, hence the name undertaker.”
More murmurs from the audience. They were captivated.
Bob leaned over to me. “Did you know that?”
“No. She’s very interesting.”
“Some homes were even built with a coffin corner, a special nook where the coffin would be placed. Take yourselves back in your minds to the days before embalming. The days when doctors cared for patients in their homes. The days when a horse-drawn carriage delivered the body to the graveyard for burial. It begins to make sense, doesn’t it?”
She paused and smiled at them.
“There were no nursing homes or assisted living for the elderly. They stayed at home or lived with relatives until they died.”
She roamed the room. “Another interesting term came from that time, as well. Not everyone had a fine room in which to receive guests when the body was in repose. Consequently, some people began to offer their front rooms for the task, and their houses were called funeral homes.”
At that point, Bob and I hustled to the cash register because people were lining up to buy her book.
Emily wrapped up her talk and spent the next two hours chatting with readers and signing books. When I thanked her for coming, she said, “Florrie, you need to do something about Delbert’s spirit before he ruins your life.”
Zsazsa stood nearby listening. In a hushed tone, she said to Emily, “We know about you and Maxwell.”
“What about us? Is Maxwell a sensitive, too? I would not have guessed that.”
Speaking in a low voice, I got right to the point. “We found your gym membership card.”
“Wonderful! I have looked everywhere for that thing. Where was it?”
“In my house.”
Chapter 29
“How could that be?” asked Emily. “I don’t even know where you live.”
“I live in Maxwell’s carriage house.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Really! I had no idea. I’ve heard that it’s quite lovely.”
She was beginning to annoy me. How could she look at me with that innocent expression? “Emily, how did your gym card come to be under my refrigerator?”
She blew me off by turning to collect her things. “Sweetie, I have no idea. I’m just glad that you found it.”
She slung her handbag over her shoulder and smiled at me. “May I have it?”
Zsazsa nudged me with her elbow. “What were you doing there, Emily?”
“What are you implying?” asked Emily.
“Look,” I said, “why don’t you just tell me what you were doing in the carriage house?”
“How many times do I have to say this? I have never been in Maxwell’s guesthouse.”
Zsazsa piped up. “We will keep the secret of your affair with Maxwell. We just need to know a few things.”
Emily took a step back. “My affair with Maxwell? That’s preposterous.”
“We understand that you want to keep it quiet,” I said. “That’s fine with us. But for my peace of mind, could you confirm that you had a key and let yourself in?”
“I did no such thing. I have never had a key to the carriage house or to the mansion, for that matter. I have never stepped foot in the carriage house, and now I most certainly do not want to. I have never had an affair with Maxwell, and I think the two of you are complete lunatics. May I please have my gym card?”
“No,” said Zsazsa firmly.
“No?” Emily held out her hand. “It’s my card, and I would like it back, please.”
“It is better if we give it to the police.”
Zsazsa surprised me when she said that. I played along. “We wanted to spare you the embarrassment of having to reveal your affair with Maxwell to the authorities. We know how quickly that kind of thing gets around, but since you don’t want to tell us what happened and why you were there . . .”
Emily fingered her turquoise pendant. “How do I know that you actually have it?”
Zsazsa still had it in her possession. I glanced her way afraid there might be a tussle for it.
But Zsazsa was on top of things. She moved out of arm’s reach before she pulled it out of her pocket and held it up.
Emily’s lips bunched in anger and her eyes narrowed.
And that was the moment when Sergeant Jonquille walked up in his uniform with his shiny gold badge displayed on his chest. He couldn’t have timed his appearance better.
Emily blanched and licked her lips nervously. “You called the police?”
“What’s going on here?” asked Jonquille.
Zsazsa handed him the membership card.
In front of Emily, I said, “The night that Alan repaired the refrigerator, he found this underneath it.”
Jonquille examined it. “Okay.”
Zsazsa piped up. “She used it at the club on Tuesday, but she had lost it by Thursday.”
Jonquille’s head snapped up. He clearly understood the implication that Emily had gained access to the carriage house. “Excuse us, please?”
Zsazsa and I retreated to the busy desk where stragglers still bought books. After a few minutes, Emily marched out, but not before she threw me an ugly look.
Jonquille hung around while we closed the store and locked up. Bob was going to get Chinese takeout. Veronica, Jonquille, and I went along, but it did not escape my notice that Jonquille was very quiet.
When Bob and Veronica were in the garden and Jonquille and I were in my kitchen, he asked in a very calm tone, “Why didn’t you tell me about the gym membership card?”
“We thought she was having an affair with Maxwell. According to Zsazsa, Emily’s husband has made it very well known that she’s seeing someone, but she has kept her affair very quiet. No one knows who it is that she’s seeing.” I fed Frodo and Peaches.
“You didn’t think I should know about this?”
“You didn’t think it was important, either, until Zsazsa told you it was lost after Maxwell was incarcerated.”
“That’s true. But don’t you realize that you can get into a lot of trouble running around playing sleuth? If you come up against the wrong person . . .”
He didn’t have to finish. I understood what he meant. He was trained and armed and knew how to defend himself. I would be clobbered.
“You’re right. I didn’t expect it to turn out this way. How did she explain it to you?”
“She claims she doesn’t know how it came to be here.”
“That’s what she told us.”
Jonquille’s mouth shifted to the side. “Bear with me here, Florrie. I know you said you’re not having an affair with Maxwell.”
“Not that again!”
“What if she thinks you are?”
That stopped me in my tracks. “Noooo! I never considered that. You mean she was jealous, so she let herself in and booby-trapped the refrigerator to get rid of me?”
Veronica barged into the kitchen. “Where’s the food? I’m starved!”
We joined Bob outside. Mostly the topic of conversation was ghosts, which led to a lot
of laughter. But in the back of my mind, I was thinking about Emily.
Joking about how we no longer had the energy to work all day and stay up all night, Bob and Veronica left. Eric helped me clean up the kitchen, then we stepped outside to talk with the guard.
On the monitors, the day had been as uninteresting as the night before. While they chatted and reviewed tapes from the cameras, I went over to the mansion with Frodo to check on DuBois.
Given the late hour, it wasn’t surprising that he slept. He looked peaceful and his respiration appeared to be regular. I longed to touch his hand lightly but didn’t want to wake him.
On my way out, I stopped by the kitchen to talk to the nurse who confirmed that he had been given a sedative to help him sleep.
“Is he still seeing things?”
“Every night.”
“When will that stop?”
“Depends on the person,” she said. “He’s still very weak. What happened to him was a big shock to his system. It takes time to recuperate at that age. I’d expect to see progress in a month or so.”
I thanked her and returned to Jonquille and the guard. They wrapped up their conversation, and we said goodnight.
Inside the carriage house, Frodo, Peaches, and I headed up to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I envied Frodo, who snored, and Peaches, who curled up and drifted off immediately.
I opened my sketchbook and looked through it. Mostly meaningless doodles of pearls and shoe prints and faces. I sketched one more face, that of Emily Branscom. Her face was tiny and delicate, not unlike a doll. She wore her hair shoulder length. It had been so perfect that it must have been shellacked with a good amount of hair spray. She had a little heart-shaped mouth, and a tiny nose that almost seemed to come to a point at the tip. She was petite and sweet, yet there was a bitterness around the outer edges of her eyes and in the wrinkles around her mouth.
There was one other person who knew for sure whether she was having an affair with Maxwell. And that was Maxwell, himself. Would he tell me? Or would he be a gentleman to the death and never admit it out of some archaic sense of decency?
I turned the page. It wasn’t really Emily Branscom who was keeping me awake. It was my own sister. I tried to focus and think it through. Sonja had seen the mystery woman at Club Neon. Was there a way to discreetly find out whether Veronica had been at Club Neon the night Delbert was murdered? Assuming she had been, that still didn’t make her the mystery woman or the killer.
Some guy at work had been very rotten to her. Maybe there were a lot of people like Delbert. Just because I hadn’t met them didn’t mean they didn’t exist. Lots of people took credit for other people’s ideas and stabbed them in the back. Offices were notorious for that kind of behavior. All I had to do was ask her the name of the guy who sabotaged her. Very simple. Nonthreatening. It could come up in conversation, and she wouldn’t know that . . .
And then I saw the pearls I had doodled and my heart sank. Why was Veronica having her pearls restrung?
What was I thinking? This was my sister! I knew her better than just about anyone. Okay, she was athletic and perfectly capable of throwing a spear, but her heart was pure gold. She could get angry, especially at injustices, but there was simply no way that she would kill anyone. I was being completely ridiculous. The stress of Delbert’s murder must be skewing my logic. I was so desperate for answers that I was imagining my own sister as a suspect. Nonsense and rubbish! I was officially the worst sister in the world.
It was a good thing the next day was Sunday. It had been one week since Delbert died. I fell asleep and dreamed of a faceless person chasing Delbert down the hallway with a spear. And now he was chasing me in my dreams.
* * *
I woke shamefully late the next day. The sun streamed through the window. Peaches lay on her stomach, enjoying the warmth.
I bounded out of bed. Poor Jonquille! He had probably been waiting for me to rise for hours. Instead of showering, I pulled on a skort and a sleeveless button-down shirt and ran down the stairs barefoot.
He still slept. Even with his remarkable blue eyes closed, he was lovely to look at. He had a square jaw, like Veronica and the mystery woman, but his rounded nicely to what was surely a stubborn chin. A pair of round tortoiseshell glasses lay on the floor next to a book about the psychology of murder.
It was the day of Mom’s cookout. I debated briefly whether I should take Eric along after all. Maybe not. Eric would detract from the attention Veronica craved. She had brought home at least a dozen guys whom she thought were The One. I, on the other hand, had introduced my parents to exactly one guy whom I had dated. And I probably wouldn’t have if they hadn’t shown up unexpectedly at my apartment. It would be better if all eyes were on Veronica and the new beau.
I had arranged for Helen to fill in for me so I could have a day off, but I hadn’t shared the new burglar alarm code with anyone yet, so I would have to go over to open the store and to close it.
And I had promised Mom I would bring dessert. I wandered into the kitchen and took butter and eggs out of the fridge to warm up for two strawberry sponge cakes.
“Hey! You’re up!” Shoving his glasses on, Eric strolled toward me, barefoot and adorably tousled. “Man, it was great to sleep in this morning after the long days we’ve had.”
“I hope you’re off today.”
“You bet. You, too?”
“Sort of. I changed the password for the alarm on the store, and I’m the only one who knows it, so I’ll have to go over to open and close.” I started the coffee brewing.
He leaned against the kitchen island. “Is there a reason you haven’t shared it with the other employees who open and close in your absence?”
“Not a good reason, I guess. Whoever murdered Delbert had the password. As it turned out, a lot of people knew what it was, including some of the regular customers. It seemed prudent to keep it a secret for the time being. Just until we figure out exactly who got in and what happened that night. I guess I feel safer that way, and it’s better for the bookstore.”
He smiled. “Smart move. Do you suspect Helen or Bob?”
“Not really. Apparently, Helen followed some guy around at her last job and was fired for it. That doesn’t make her a murderess, though I suppose it puts her judgment into question.”
“And Bob?”
“Bob wouldn’t hurt anyone. He’s a big lovable teddy bear.”
“With a crush on your sister.”
“And on Helen! He obviously goes for tall, leggy types.”
“I know your sister is seeing someone. How about Helen?”
“She’s been chasing some guy she met at the store. Sounds like he might have dumped her, though.”
“Your sister is popular. My friend Cody wanted to know about her relationship status.”
I nodded as I fed Peaches. “Men are always attracted to her.”
It bothered me a little bit that I was so comfortable with Eric. We walked the dog around the neighborhood, admiring the other mansions. On our return, he whipped up eggs Florentine for breakfast, while I baked the torte for my mom’s cookout.
When we ate breakfast in the garden, Eric said casually, “I noticed that you changed the locks on the carriage house.”
“I was stupid not to do it sooner. Having the guard gave me a false sense of security. Plus Delbert was dead, so I didn’t anticipate anyone else wanting access to the carriage house.”
“No one expected that someone else would want to break in. Not even me.” He glanced up at me. “I noticed your sketchbook the other day.”
Startled, I met his eyes.
He held up his palms. “Hey, I’m the son of an artist. I know better than to look in it, but I’d like to see it. Any chance I could have a peek?”
I deliberated. “Sure. Why not?”
I left the table. Frodo accompanied me in my dash upstairs to retrieve it. “We’re going to see Mom and Dad today. You’ll have fun running around without a leash again,”
I promised him. The garden was beautiful, but there wasn’t room for a dog to run at top speed.
I returned to the table and said, “I’m feeling a little guilty about keeping Frodo so long. And I’m feeling awful about imposing on you to babysit me every night.”
“Are you saying you don’t want Frodo and me here anymore?”
“No, I love having both of you here. But Frodo is probably much happier running in his big yard at home. And you have a life. I’m sure there are things you need to do that you have put off because of me.”
“A few. But I’ve been enjoying it. Sitting out here is like being in a park. It’s a treat. And the company has been very enjoyable.”
I handed him my sketchbook. He laid his glasses on the table and opened it. “Delbert.”
Chapter 30
“Delbert was on my mind even before I found him with a spear in his back. Gosh, has it only been a week? I had never met him before and the next day he was dead.”
Eric’s eyes opened wide. “This is me!”
“That was the day we discovered Delbert’s body. You were kneeling on the floor and looking down at me.”
“Thanks for making me look better than I do. Aha. This is Delbert on the floor. It’s like a timeline of what happened. Cool! You even drew the shoe print and the notch in the floor.”
“Don’t you think that was from the spear?” I asked.
“Probably. I know Delbert wasn’t the nicest guy, but the blood in the hallway and the gouge in the floor indicate that there was some kind of altercation. Whatever happened to him was horrific.”
“That’s what I think. Someone threw the spear at a person who was probably standing or kneeling in the space.”
“And there’s the pearl.”
I was afraid of his answer, but I asked anyway. “Do you think that means it was a woman? Men don’t often wear pearls. In tie tacks, maybe, but not many men wear those anymore.”
“It’s possible. Or it could mean that a woman was present.”
“It was drilled through,” I said. “So I think that means it came from a necklace or a bracelet.”
He flipped the page. “Helen? So you did suspect her?”
