by Krista Davis
We took Casper along with us when we walked around the outside of the inn. Mrs. Mewer wasn’t on the porch with Gingersnap, but Grayson had moved outside. He sat in a rocking chair staring at his hands.
“You okay?” I asked, perching on the chair next to him.
“Yeah. It’s just . . . wow. You don’t expect things like this to happen.”
“You knew her well?”
“No, but I just spent the last couple of days with her and Mark. She liked to hang out with ghost hunters. It’s just mind-boggling that she was fine a few hours before and then she drowned.”
“Mr. Luciano would probably let you go home.”
Grayson nodded. “I know. But I can’t let the other guys down. A TV show is probably the biggest thing that ever happened to them. And there’s the possibility of a series. I can’t walk out on it.” He massaged Casper’s ears.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Did you find Eva’s cat?”
“Not yet. I was just going to look outside the inn just in case she managed to sneak past someone.”
We left him to his thoughts of Mallory and walked around the property. Mrs. Mewer wasn’t lounging in the sun on the back terraces. If she had climbed a tree or nestled somewhere, the dogs showed no sign of noticing her.
When I returned, Grayson had fetched Zelda.
All eyes were on her as she rotated a hand under her chin. “I see her. Mrs. Mewer says she’s scared. She found a place to hide.”
“Where is she?” asked Eva eagerly.
I couldn’t help wondering what had happened to the woman who didn’t believe in psychics. Now that her cat was lost, she certainly had a different attitude toward Zelda’s alleged powers.
“All I see is white walls,” said Zelda. “Maybe a closet or a corner someplace?”
“Doesn’t she miss me? Tell her I want her to come back!”
Zelda smiled at Eva very kindly. “She loves you, too. But right now, she wants to hide for a little bit.”
“Eva,” I said, “if you want to go with the guys to pay your respects, I’ll stick around and keep an eye out for Mrs. Mewer.”
Eva sucked in a sharp breath of air. “No! Oh, no, no, no. I’ll stay here. Maybe Mrs. Mewer will come out of hiding when everyone is gone and it’s quiet.”
Felix took the cue, collected the ghost hunters and herded them out the front door. In mere seconds, the inn fell silent.
Shelley very thoughtfully appeared with a tray bearing a cup of tea and a platter of the pumpkin whoopie pies. She set it on the table in front of Eva. “Let me know if there’s anything you need, sugar.”
Shelley, Trixie, and I left Eva sitting in the Dogwood Room. I looked back at her as we walked away. She heaved deep breaths and stared at the floor. The hand that clutched a tissue shook slightly.
Shelley whispered, “I hope that cat shows up soon. The afternoon tea crowd will start trickling in before long. The noise and commotion might scare her even more.”
I spent the next few hours installing the new deadbolt on the kitchen door. Trixie stretched out on the floor for a nap, and Twinkletoes curled up on the fireplace hearth. Neither of them appeared to be one bit disturbed by the annoying sound of the drill or the battery-operated screwdriver. I hoped the noise wasn’t keeping Mrs. Mewer away.
* * *
At five o’clock, dogs, cats, and people in costumes gathered in front of the inn for a Howloween Yappy Hour. Although the inn didn’t serve cocktails at Yappy Hour, the town permitted people to bring their drinks to the porch of the inn to watch the parade. Oma insisted I join in with Trixie, dressed in her Tootsie Roll outfit, and Gingersnap, who wore a big furry ruff around her neck that made her look like a lion.
It didn’t take a dog psychic like Zelda to know that the dogs were having fun. They pranced around, wagging their tails and showing off their finery. A black-and-white mutt wore a skunk jacket, a Doberman had donned a vampire cape, and a boxer was dressed as a pirate, complete with a live parrot riding on his hat! I recognized a cairn terrier dressed as Dorothy, a host of doggy witches, a ladybug, a bee, and several little devils with red horns.
Lillian marched in the parade with GloryB. They wore matching witches’ hats and black capes adorned with flashy rhinestones and black feathers.
The cats held their own too, though many of them were being carried in the parade. They wore witch hats, pumpkin outfits, mouse getups—one even came wearing Cleopatra hair with a faux asp attached to her collar.
As silly as it seemed, I thoroughly enjoyed it. There wasn’t a single person in the parade who didn’t smile or laugh. For that short time, I didn’t think about Mallory. I chatted with people about their cats and dogs, and my mouth muscles hurt from grinning.
When the costume judging began, I beat a hasty exit lest Trixie or Gingersnap should win. After all, we were locals. The prizes should go to visitors. We returned to the inn, where the ghost hunters watched from the porch, cocktails in hand.
Brian and Grayson caught me coming up the steps and applauded.
“I’m sorry Felix missed that,” said Brian. “It would have brightened his day.”
“Where is Felix?” I asked.
“He’s skipping dinner tonight,” said Grayson. “He wasn’t hungry. Eva, either.”
I didn’t want to be a pain in the neck, but decided to take them something to eat anyway. It was the least I could do. After helping Trixie and Gingersnap out of their costumes, I loaded up a room service cart with piping hot macaroni and cheese, a bowl of Oma’s goulash, fruit, and our onion-free goulash doggie dinner for Casper, the ghost dog.
I knocked on Felix’s door.
“It’s open.” He said it in a weak, resigned tone, but I was certain I’d heard him.
I rolled the cart inside. Mark was slumped in the chair by the fireplace, staring at the blaze. Felix straddled a desk chair that he had turned around. Casper jumped to his feet and strolled over to greet Trixie.
I shoved the cart next to Felix’s chair. “I brought you some dinner.”
He glanced up at me. “We’re not really hungry.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Mark.”
“Thanks. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m hiding out here with Felix for a while. People keep coming to my place.”
“He’s got enough food to feed the whole ghost hunting team for a week,” said Felix.
Mark ran a hand through his hair. “Mr. Luciano is dedicating the show to Mallory.”
“That’s a very thoughtful gesture.”
He didn’t respond.
“I can understand if you’re not hungry. I brought dinner for Casper, too. Just let me know if you need anything.” I turned to leave.
Felix jumped up and said, “Holly?”
“Yes?”
He followed me to the door and gestured toward the hallway. We walked out of the room, and he closed the door.
Nine
Unsure what Felix wanted to talk about, I thought it best to wait and let him fill the dead air.
He chewed on his lower lip. “Mark says the place where Mallory drowned isn’t deep.”
“It’s not.”
Felix gazed around uncomfortably. “Then . . . then how could she have drowned? Why didn’t she stand up or sit or something?”
I wasn’t sure how much to say. “Doc thinks she was too drunk.”
Felix nodded and studied the floor. “We all drank too much last night. I guess that could explain a lot of things. Mallory flirted with me.”
“I noticed that. Seemed odd to be so obvious in front of Mark.”
A worried V formed between Felix’s eyebrows. “Mark insists they broke up ages ago.”
“That’s odd. Wasn’t she staying with him? She was asking about having their wedding here.”
His eyebrows squeezed tighter together. “That doesn’t jibe with what Mark says.” He squinted at me. “Why would she be interested in me if she was planning to marry Mark? I’m not the kind of guy women chase. I don’t have Brian’s ease and jolliness or Mark’s cool-guy flare or Grayson’s fame.”
“Fame?”
“He was a heartthrob on one of those reality TV shows. I never saw it, but he acts like it was a big deal.” He shrugged. “I guess it was. A couple of people recognized him last night.”
Ben, my last boyfriend, had been a geeky guy, like Felix. Although Oma didn’t like him, and he hadn’t even bothered to call since I decided to move, he had his good sides. “Don’t put yourself down. You’re very charming.”
He finally looked over at me, a half smile on his face. “Yeah?”
“Absolutely. Zelda is quite taken by you.”
“Really?” His face lit up.
“I hope you’ll come to the ghost walk. Casper probably needs to get out for a bit, and I know Zelda will be there.”
Felix scuffed the toe of his shoe against the floor. “It feels wrong to do anything fun, you know? Is it just me, or does something seem not right about all of this? Do you think Mallory was murdered?”
My breath caught in my throat. I looked him straight in the eyes. “Why would you ask such a thing?”
“Officer Dave woke me up this morning. I don’t think he would have done that if he didn’t suspect someone killed her. He came to my room and asked me questions about Mallory and what happened last night. I guess it could have been in the regular course of business, but he didn’t give me that impression.”
Conflicting thoughts ran through my head. The official verdict was that Mallory’s death had been accidental. Even if I had my doubts about that, shouldn’t I stick to what I’d been told, rather than spout my own suspicions? “Doc Kilgore says it was an accident, probably due to intoxication.”
Felix nodded his head and studied his shoes for a moment. “Thanks for the dinner, Holly. I’ll see you later.” He returned to Mark while Trixie and I headed back to the kitchen.
But Felix’s words lingered with me. Does something seem not right about all of this? It was exactly what I had been feeling.
I fetched another cart with mac and cheese and goulash and pushed it through the library to the cat wing. Surprisingly, Eva’s door hung open. I rapped on it anyway. “Eva?”
Like a mirror image of Mark, she sat in the chair by a blazing fire, but she jumped up when I said her name. “Have you found Mrs. Mewer?”
“Not yet. I’m so sorry. I brought you dinner. You really should eat something.”
Her shoulders drooped, and she dropped into the chair. “I apologize. I’m usually not such a quivering mess. Mrs. Mewer is everything to me. She’s like my baby.”
“I understand completely. Trixie was lost the last time I was here, and it tore me up.”
She plucked at the fabric of her skirt. “Holly, you’re the only one I can talk to about this. You don’t believe all that nonsense about ghosts, right?”
“No, of course not.”
In a voice so tiny I could barely hear her, she asked, “Have you ever had complaints about odd lights in this room?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” I hastened to add, “This is a new addition. It’s not as though anyone died here or anything.” At least not that I knew of. “Did something happen?”
“There was a light in the room last night. I’m used to orbs in photographs, of course. They’re usually just insects or particles of dust and people want to imagine that they’re something more. But this was a round light. It must be some kind of reflection. I can’t figure out where it came from. It wasn’t my imagination. Mrs. Mewer saw it, too. I’m usually adept at finding the source, but this time I couldn’t.”
Oh boy. I didn’t know whether she needed my assurance that it must have had some earthly origin, or if she wanted confirmation that it could have been something else. Probably the former.
“I walked around outside,” said Eva, “thinking it must surely be a light from a neighboring building, but there isn’t anything back there. Just a clearing for bird feeders and then woods. There has to be a rational explanation. There just has to be!”
Her voice rose in agitation, alarming me.
She seized my hand. “You were there. Do you think Mallory was . . . murdered?”
I drew in a sharp breath and pulled my hand back. They all thought the same thing! “Why do you ask that?”
She sagged back against the chair. “Mallory didn’t need a pointy hat and a broom to be a witch.” She snorted in derision.
A rustling sound caught my attention. I turned to see that Twinkletoes had jumped into a huge Vera Bradley tote. She dug deeper until only the tip of her fluffy black tail was visible.
I was about to dart over to her when Eva reached backward and caught my arm. “Have you heard anything? It was an accident, right?”
Her questions caught me off guard. Here I was again, stuck between Doc Kilgore’s official line that Mallory’s death had probably been a terrible mishap and my own instinct that it wasn’t accidental. What if Felix and I were right, and she had been murdered? Obviously I wasn’t the only one with doubts about a vibrant young woman drowning in shallow water. “Are you saying that someone wanted to kill Mallory?”
I watched her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes rose slowly to study me in the mirror. She released her grip. “No. No, I’m not saying that at all.”
I wanted to like Eva, but at that moment, I knew without a doubt that she was lying. She nearly burbled in her haste to change the subject. “I’m being absurd. I have to find the explanation for that light in the room.”
“I don’t think you’re being ridiculous at all.” I shot a glare at Twinkletoes, not that it mattered, because she had already left the bag and now prowled through the room, her tail high like a waving flag.
“If you see the light again, why don’t you call me and maybe the two of us can figure it out?” I offered.
“All orbs have logical, rational, earthly explanations. I’ll find the source. Thank you for bringing me dinner and setting me straight.”
“You’re so welcome. I’ll see you at the ghost walk?”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the chair.
It was the perfect opportunity to catch Twinkletoes. She pawed at something under the dressing table chair. I tiptoed toward her, bent over—and like a flash of white lightning, she flew from the room with something clenched between her teeth. Oh great.
I hurried after her but hadn’t even made it to the door when Eva said, “Holly? Leave the door open, will you? I’m hoping Mrs. Mewer will come back.”
Leaving the door ajar just enough for a cat to pass through, I dashed into the library. Twinkletoes was lying on the window seat, but jumped up when she saw me.
It was a standoff.
I knew perfectly well what would happen next. She understood that I was after whatever she had stolen. As soon as I neared, she would seize it and scamper off again. I edged toward her slowly, trying to see what she had. A turquoise catnip mouse. For heaven’s sake, she’d stolen a toy from Mrs. Mewer.
No problem. I could replace that. I chuckled under my breath as I passed her and headed to the kitchen for yogurt to sustain me while I played ghost.
* * *
By eight thirty that evening, the sun had vanished behind the mountain. Orange and purple Howloween lights decorated stores and restaurants. People, dogs, and cats walked along the pedestrian zone under the streetlights and gathered on the plaza in front of the Sugar Maple Inn. The moon cast a golden beam strong enough for me to make out scary goblins and cute dogs waiting to go on the ghost walk.
I watched from the front porch with Trixie securely attached to a leash so she wouldn’t wander. Zel
da shooed us to the plaza. Her bawdy serving wench costume should certainly get Felix’s attention. Her curvy figure filled it out perfectly.
“Rose is about to begin,” she whispered before she hurried off.
Framed by garlands of fall leaves, Rose stood on the lighted porch at the top of the steps. Clusters of pumpkins and purple mums added cheerful color to each side of the stairs. Giant crows perched on the pumpkins that decorated the porch. I chuckled at two skeletons happily seated on rocking chairs. One of them held a leash that led to the faux skeleton of a dog. Spooky bats dangled from the porch roof and appeared to flit around in a light breeze.
Without warning, the porch lights went out. A small beam glowed just beneath Rose’s chin, giving lovely Rose a haunted appearance and emphasizing the green cast to her makeup. The stars on her kinked witch’s hat glowed in the dark, as did the horizontal stripes on her tights. In a crackly voice, she said, “Welcome to all! But beware! For Wagtail is home to many ghosts.” She pointed a crooked forefinger at someone in the crowd. “You dare to snicker? This tour is not for the feeble or the easily spooked.”
Ten
Zelda pushed a cart across the plaza in front of us, handing out lanterns and lighting the candles inside them. Felix, Mark, Grayson, and Brian wedged next to me to take lanterns. Felix’s eyes met Zelda’s, and they both grinned.
A spark! But why was Mark on the ghost tour? I guessed that people grieve differently. Maybe Felix coaxed him to come along, just to distract him for a while. After all, he was presumably Wagtail’s foremost authority on ghosts. He might have even helped Rose prepare for the ghostly happenings in Wagtail.
I glanced down at Trixie. Casper nuzzled her like they were already old friends.
“The year is 1885,” said Rose. “In the dark of night, the only lights in Wagtail come from gas lamps.” She pointed her finger toward the sky as if casting a spell.
