Death by Séance

by Jo-Ann Carson

  I nodded.

  “After I agreed to meet with him, he asked me to come to the séance. He said it would make his boss, Elif, happy.”

  That made sense. “So, you went as a favour to Kumar.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you weren’t angry at him for ignoring you for a month?”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t spent my nights alone.”

  Meow. Enough already. I inhaled deeply. “Do you have any idea who killed Kumar?”

  “The room went dark, and when the lights came on I saw the knife in his neck. I screamed. That’s it. That’s all I know.”

  “I remember your scream.” I would never forget her scream. Loud and theatrical.

  Her eyes filled with tears. “If you ask me, the cops should look closer at Ming. Something about that woman doesn’t add up.”

  Chapter 12

  The Lover

  “The hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave. Live.” ~ Buffy

  I caught up with Ming Chan at Sunset Cove’s beauty salon/spa, “The Sanctuary.” It had a half-price sale on all its services for the whole week, because the planets were all lined up, or some other astrological reason. Whatever. It was a good deal and the place hummed with acitivity.

  Ming sat in one of the three recliners in the reflexology/pedicure corner of the large main room. With a silk mask filled with lavender over her eyes, she leaned way back in the chair, while her feet soaked in Irma’s latest, soul-soothing herbal concoction. Irma was the proprietor of the establishment and knew everything there was to know about letting one’s beauty shine, or at least she said she did. Her foot baths were legendary. She had a way with feet.

  I sat in the chair next to Ming, with Spark curled at my feet, and took a moment to collect my thoughts. She oozed feminine wonder. Every part of her from her shiny, ebony hair, to her perfect skin and even more perfectly proportioned figure was extraordinarily beautiful. She reminded me of dolls I used to play with as a child, except for the stilettos. They were another matter of wonder. Who in their right mind would wear stilettos in a small coastal town where most people wore gumboots, running shoes or sandals, depending on the weather?

  Why did she choose to live here?

  The sound of hair dryers and the smell of hair dye cut into my thoughts. I couldn’t sit here for long without getting something done to me. I wouldn’t mind being beautied up, but I couldn’t afford the time or the money. I needed to make it a quick conversation.

  I had met Ming only twice before: once at a party of Joy’s about a month ago and then at the séance. We had exchanged few words each time. Kumar had been with her on both occasions.

  They made a stunning couple. I wouldn’t say they looked madly in love, but they definitely looked together. Ultra-cool dude and beauty queen.

  She lifted a corner of her mask and spied me. “What do you want?”

  “You have my deepest condolences,” I said.

  “Thank you.” Swollen eyes appeared as she took off her mask.

  “I know there are no words to comfort you now.”

  She nodded. “It doesn’t make any sense. He was in his prime. We had so many plans.”

  “Death never makes any sense.” Life neither, for that matter. Wait a minute. If they had “so many” plans, why was Kumar hooking up with Ophelia? I needed to keep her talking.

  “I wish I could have told him how much I loved him.”

  Love? Oh dear. “I’m sure he knew.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah. People always know.” Unless they’re really stupid.

  “I wanted to tell him. Watch his face. You know?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “I planned to tell him that night.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  “Do you know who killed him?”

  She sniffed and inched back. “Me? No. I don’t know anything.”

  “Did he have enemies?”

  She took a second to think. “Most people liked Kumar. Sure, they would get angry with him if he stole their favourite parking spot, or, worse, their girlfriend for a night, but most got over it, you know. His big smile and wicked sense of humor made it hard for others to stay mad at him.”

  “So, there were some angry people?”

  She shook her head. “No one stands out. Why are you asking?”

  “I’d like to find out who killed him. It kind of haunts me, because I was there and there was nothing I could do for him.”

  “I’d like to know who did it too.” She dabbed her nose with a tissue. “But honestly, I don’t think he had enemies.”

  “He hung out with vampires.”

  “Yeah. I thought it was a crazy thing to do, but he kept telling me it wasn’t as dangerous as I thought, and the pay was freaking awesome.”

  Freaking awesome? Hmmm. “Do you think he may have known some of their secrets? Or do you think he may have made an enemy of one of them?”

  “Fangers need people they can trust to run their daytime operations, so they’re careful to keep their relationships with their workers cut and dry. Kumar said they never talked personal stuff. Elif would tell him to hire an electrician or pick up his shirts from the cleaners. That sort of thing. Their night-to-night lives weren’t dark and murky like in the movies. They’re working arrangement sounded kind of mundane.”

  Working for a vampire described as mundane? “What about Ophelia Maserati? Did she hate Kumar?”

  “That slut? Nah. She wanted his body. That’s all. Murdering him would have defeated her purpose.”

  I didn’t want to mention it, but I had to. “Did you know that he had asked her to come to the séance and promised her his personal attention afterwards?”

  “Yeah, I knew. He did it to get her there and score points with his boss, Elif, who was trying to score points with Joy, because he has a thing for her. He told me he would drive her home and ditch her. We planned to meet later that night.”

  “Talking about Elif. Did you ever?”

  “I don’t do blood suckers.”

  “Did Kumar?”

  She shifted, blinked and looked the other way. “No. At least I don’t think so, but …”

  I waited.

  “The way Elif looked at him made me wonder.”

  Hmmm.

  “What about that Nelson guy? Maybe he did it.”

  I shook my head. I had already crossed Nelson the ghost off my list.

  “What about Margaret. Kumar got her to invest in a project he was developing last year to the tune of fifty grand. It went belly-up like most of his schemes. The man had no business sense. He promised to pay her back, but I don’t think he ever did.”

  “I didn’t know Kumar made business deals.”

  “You don’t have money. If you did, you would have known. He hit up everyone in town.”

  “Tell me about the project.”

  “He called the latest one, ‘Get Vamped.’ It was an online call-in center that offered its clients personal video conversations with the undead.”

  “Ew.”

  “My reaction too. But Kumar loved night creatures and thought everyone else did too. He figured people would pay to interact with the dark side. I told him people want to meet vampires for three reasons, and three reasons only. They want to die.” She rolled her eyes. “They want supernatural sex.” She grimaced. “Or they want to become immortal. They do not want to chat about the weather.”

  “Makes sense to me.” The more I talked with Ming, the more I liked her.

  “Did someone hire you to investigate Kumar’s murder?”

  “Yeah.” Honesty works best for me. I’m a terrible liar. “I can’t say who, but somebody.”

  Irma came over with a fresh towel. “Time to take your feet out, honey.” She called us all honey, which felt comforting. With a firm hand she tapped my knee by way of greeting and I nodded.

  As Irma towel dried Ming’s feet, I tried to think of other questions. I knew they would flood into my mind as soon
as I left the shop.

  Ming made a mewing sound as Irma massaged her right foot.

  “One final question,” I said.

  Irma gave me the stink eye.

  “Ming, trust me. I will do whatever I can to bring Kumar’s murderer to justice.”

  “What’s the question?”

  “Did Kumar wear a locket?”

  Chapter 13

  The Client

  “I am what I am, an’ I’m not ashamed. ‘Never be ashamed,’ my ol’ dad used ter say. ‘There’s some who’ll hold it against you, but they’re not worth botherin’ with.”

  Hagrid, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

  I should have gone to the vampires. Ever since Elif told me about their turf war, the likelihood that fangers were involved in the murder wore on me. But who wants to interview night creatures? I shuddered. Not me. It made practical sense to cross out the humans first.

  Sticking with that plan, I headed over to Margaret’s cafe. In transit I called Jill and checked on the home situation. Jonathan had burst a feather pillow using it as a sleigh to ride down the banister. The pillow was toast, but Jonathan didn’t need to go to Emergency. He survived with a few bruises on his elbows and a goose-egg-sized bump on his head. Meanwhile the girls had built an elaborate fort with towels and stuff in one of the back rooms. Jill, on her second pot of coffee, sounded content and said hanging out with my kids made her feel useful and a part of the good life. I sighed. All was well at Blackstone Manor.

  The screen door banged behind me as I entered the restaurant, a Formica table with checkered tablecloths and French fry grease in the air kind of place. It was the heart and soul of our seaside town, a gathering place for fishermen, carpenters and bankers exchanging their views of the world, a sanctuary for creative types who hid behind their laptops, a place where everyone felt welcome.

  The special today, maple-bacon clam chowder and super-hero burgers, had been yesterday’s special as well. The menu board above the kitchen never said anything else.

  I sat at one of the two empty tables and looked around. People nodded as they passed me but respected my space. I love the cove for that. Margaret came out of the kitchen with her arms filled with loaded plates. She headed over to the table next to mine. As she placed each meal down, she repeated the order. Six people served and not a hair out of place.

  Harvey yelled from the other end of the cafe, “Where’s my coffee?”

  “It’s coming Harvey. Keep your pants on,” she yelled back. An enormous grin settled on Harvey’s face. As always, he had a full cup of coffee in front of him and a thermos-styled pot beside it, but he called out every fifteen minutes for more and Margaret always answered. Between orders she would go over and pat his shoulder. When business slowed, she would sit with him.

  Margaret’s “Lily of the Valley” scent arrived at my table before she did. It tickled my nose. I’m not allergic to all perfumes, but “the Lily” gets me. She wore a flowered apron over black pants and a cotton blouse, giving her a prim, motherly look.

  “What can I get you?” she said.

  “I’d really like to talk.”

  “I’ll get coffee.”

  A woman after my own heart. A few minutes later we sat opposite each other with steaming mugs. She didn’t look any different than usual. I used my sleuthing skills and my witchy sense to study people, but nothing about her rang my bells. Her emerald-green eyes looked tired. Her white skin appeared pale but no more so than usual. She did spend a lot of time indoors. I kept looking. The fingers on her right hand trembled on the handle of her cup. A tell!

  “How are you holding up after the séance?” I asked.

  “Life goes on, as they say. I have a business to run. I wasn’t close to Kumar. I’m sorry he passed, as I’m sorry when anyone passes, but I won’t pretend to be overcome with grief. That wouldn’t be right.”

  I liked that answer. I hate it when people only care about others after they’re dead. They are the real ghouls, if you ask me. I nodded. “Is Nelson still visiting you?”

  She shifted in her seat. “You know about that?”

  I nodded. “I have my sources.”

  Leaning back, she gave me a hard stare. “Is it true you talk to ghosts?”

  Hell, I do a lot more than talk, but I wouldn’t say that to her. I wouldn’t, burst her bubble of reality. “Let’s just say I know things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Nelson loved you very much and still does. He’s trying to reach you through your dreams.”

  “That’s insane.”

  I shrugged. “You don’t have to believe me. Just listen. His mother was Inuit and his ancestors have taught him to dream walk.”

  All the color in her face drained. “I knew about his mom. How could you possibly know?”

  That’s what bothered her? I shrugged.

  “Can … Can people actually walk in your dreams?”

  I leaned forward. “You tell me.”

  “He seems so real.”

  “What does he say to you?”

  “He doesn’t. I won’t let him. I ... I’m scared to.”

  “Let him, Margaret. He has something he wants to say to you. And he loves you. Remember that. If ever you cared about him, let him say his piece. Let his spirit rest.”

  She sipped her coffee. The cup shook in her hand. “I’ll try.”

  “Maybe you could help me.”

  “How?”

  “I’m trying to figure out Kumar’s murder.”

  “Why don’t you leave it to Zane?”

  “I figure he can use all the help he can get. He spent yesterday morning getting Mrs. Macharetti’s cat out of a tree.”

  She laughed. “True.”

  “Tell me how you remember the night.”

  Her head tilted. “You all arrived before me. We said hello. He seemed normal enough. Everyone seemed normal. The séance began. The lights went out. When they came on, he was dead.”

  “You screamed.”

  “It was so gruesome. And ... so unexpected.”

  “When the lights were out did you hear or feel anything?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “My mind was totally focused on Nelson. I called to him, over and over again. When the lights went out, I thought he had arrived, so I called in my mind, even louder.” She swallowed.

  “Anything else?”

  After a few seconds of silence, she spoke. “I felt a breeze. But like I said, I thought it was Nelson’s spirit.”

  “It takes a lot of energy for a spirit to cross over to this realm.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I think … I could be wrong.” I bit my lip. “Just because Nelson can visit you in your dreams, doesn’t mean he can visit you in a séance.”

  “Ah.” She frowned. “I guess that makes sense.”

  Makes sense? “Listen, I’m no expert on things that go bump in the night, but after living in the cove for a few years I’ve learned not to expect things to make sense. Maybe they’ll make sense after we die. I don’t know. But I do know that many things in this life do not make sense. I’ve learned to live with not understanding the details. I live in the moment.” I made a face. “I didn’t mean to sound like a new-age idiot, but ...”

  She raised her hand. “I get it.”

  That left one unanswered question. “Tell me about ‘Get Vamped.’”

  After a slight jolt of surprise, a smile spread across her face. “It was the lamest investment I ever made, but you know how charming Kumar could be. He talked me and a whole lot of other people into investing in it. He said he had the contacts and knew how to set up the tech side.”

  “How many investors?”

  “I went to a general meeting once and there were about twenty people in the room. I can make you a list. I don’t think they all put out money. Some did.”

  “And lost it.”

  Her head moved from side to side. “Some lessons cost you.”

  “What happened?
”

  “Well if you ask me, I’d say the problem was that vampire charm doesn’t play well on video screens. That mesmerizing thing they do with their eyes doesn’t come through a screen. They look cold and dead.”

  “So, people lost interest.”

  “Fast.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking: how much money did you lose?”

  “None.”

  My mouth dropped.

  “I invested fifty thousand and it vanished faster than the setting moon. Kumar promised to pay me back, but didn’t, so I gave him a counter-proposal.”

  “Damn, you’re a smart business woman,” I said.

  “You don’t stick around this long unless you learn some tricks. I had him sign a contract to computerize my business. He did an amazing job. All my ordering, sales, and promotion are taken care of now. I used to spend hours trying to teach myself how to do stuff, and he made it all easy for me. Had he lived longer, I would have found some other things for him to do.”

  “Do you think anyone else would have killed him over the dead Vamp venture?”

  “Nah. Think about it. If you want money from someone, you don’t kill them. He went around to every investor and worked out a deal. The man may not have been the brightest light on the porch, but he had people-sense and oozed charm. You need to look elsewhere.”

  “Have you heard any rumors in the cafe?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “I hear all the rumors. This place lives on tales. But no, I haven’t heard anything about Kumar’s murder that could help you.”

  “Was he with Ming or Ophelia?” I had to ask.

  “Ming, all the way.”

  I nodded.

  “Do you think either of them, or any of his former lovers, would murder him out of jealousy?”

  She shook her head. “First of all, I don’t think he was worth it. He was a good-times guy and the women he bedded all knew that. Second, he left them smiling, and, third, I don’t think any of them were killers.”