Ghost Stories (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 4): (Ghost Cozy Mystery series)

by Morgana Best

  Simon straightened up and stretched. “No worries. I don’t think this is gonna be much of a problem, but I’ll call out if I need something.”

  I walked back down the stairs, thinking about my paperwork. It wasn’t going to do itself, so I had to stop finding ways to avoid it.

  The phone ringing in my pocket made me jump. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. It was a number I didn’t recognize, but then again, I still had my office phone diverted.

  “Good morning, Witch Woods Funeral home. How may I help you?”

  “Laurel, it’s Luke.” I knew from the tone of his voice that something was wrong, very wrong. “Is now a good time to talk?” he said.

  I wished he would come to the point. “Yes.”

  “The police have just informed me that they’re about to arrest your mother.”

  I came to an abrupt stop on the stairs, and clutched the banister. “Horrors! She didn’t do it.”

  “Yes I know, but the police don’t. Laurel, I’m going to need some help to convince her that she needs a criminal lawyer.”

  “I’ve never been able to convince my mother to do anything,” I said.

  “The thing is,” Luke said, “I won’t be able to represent her properly. She simply has to have a criminal lawyer, and there’s no other option.”

  I was frustrated. “Luke, she won’t listen to me. What about Pastor Green? Or Ian? If anyone can get my mother to do something, it’s those two.”

  “I’m on my way to speak to the pastor now,” Luke said.

  “What evidence do they have against her? Just the fact that he was in her house when he died? So were seven other people. Plus the hat pins were in easy reach of everyone. You might say I’ve watched too many episodes of NCIS, but isn’t this purely circumstantial evidence?”

  Luke agreed. “They haven’t found the hat pin that was used in the murder.”

  I tried to process the information. “So are you saying that if they find the hat pin that killed Frank, and it was one of my mother’s hat pins, then that would pretty much seal her fate?”

  “It wouldn’t help, but we don’t need to worry about that, because she didn’t do it.”

  “Quite so.” I stood up. “I didn’t put that well. What I meant to say was, can they easily get a conviction without the murder weapon?”

  “I can’t see how,” Luke said. “Anyone in the house had access to the hat pins and they were in the open, for all to see.”

  “That’s good to hear. By the way, do you know where my mother is?”

  “Yes, she’s still at The True Vine Garden Café,” Luke said. “She seems to be buying up big.”

  I groaned. “She must think she needs some retail therapy. Please let me know how it goes with Pastor Green.”

  Luke assured me that he would.

  Chapter 21

  I went into the kitchen to make some coffee, and I was pleased to see there was no sign of Bryce. I had stopped having sugar in my coffee a week or so previously, but I thought now was a good time to get back into the habit. I scooped in a heaped spoon and stirred it well.

  What was I going to do? I couldn’t help but think I was close to solving this matter. Something was eluding me, some small thing I was sure would help me put the pieces together.

  I ran my hand over the new countertop. His work looked good enough, but I wondered if Bryce was, in fact, taking advantage of my mother financially. He certainly wouldn’t be the first person to do so. He had taken ages on a job that surely could have been completed in half the time. But did that make him a murderer? What possible motive could he have?

  So far, my three suspects with motives were James and Jenny Thorogood, and Mandi, Frank’s girlfriend. Yet anyone else could have a motive—it’s just that I didn’t know what it was yet.

  I was on my fifth triple chocolate cookie when Simon came down the stairs. “All fixed,” he announced. “Just tell those guests not to put anything down there that shouldn’t go down there.”

  “I’ll tell Mom,” I said. “I don’t know where the guests are today.”

  “They won’t be back until dinner,” Simon said. “Bryce told me that when he called earlier.”

  I supposed that was something to be grateful for. It wouldn’t look too good if the detectives dragged Mom kicking and screaming out of the house in front of the guests. That is, assuming they arrested her when she came home and didn’t find her on her shopping spree at the café.

  “Before you go, Simon,” I said, “I wanted to ask you something. Bryce isn’t here at the moment, but I’m worried about Mom. I know he’s charging her a ridiculously large amount. Mom won’t listen to me, but I thought I should speak to Pastor Green about the situation. Is there anything else you could tell me about Bryce? I don’t want to put you in an awkward position, though.”

  Simon put down his toolbox and scratched his head. “I don’t know that much, only that he joined the church after his wife left him. He’s asked me for money and I know he’s asked other people for money as well. I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but I’ve often wondered if he only joined the church to get money, and if you don’t mind me saying so, Laurel, your mother’s a little gullible.”

  “Yes, I know,” I said.

  “Well, there are lots of other people like her in the church, who also won’t employ anyone who doesn’t go to our church, and I think that he might be taking advantage of that. Put it this way, I might be right and I might be wrong, but I’ve always felt he only joined the church for those reasons, you know, for networking. He always says very nasty things about his ex-wife.”

  “His wife didn’t leave him for an escort, did she?” I asked.

  “No.”

  I smiled. It was a long shot.

  “But Bryce thinks she left him because of an escort. He thinks if she hadn’t hired the escort, then it would never have occurred to her to leave him. She didn’t leave him for another man, though.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Are you saying that Bryce’s wife actually employed an escort?”

  Simon picked up his tool bag. “It’s not for me to judge.” With that, he smiled and walked out of the room.

  I at once texted Basil, and told him my suspicions about Bryce.

  I drew the heavy brocade curtains aside and looked out the window, but there was still no sign of Mom. I wondered if the police had already arrested her. I went back to the kitchen to fetch more coffee, and tried her phone again. It went straight to voicemail: This is Mrs. Bay. If you are hearing this, it means I am not here, so please leave your name and address.

  I shook my head. Just then, Mom’s landline rang, so I dropped my phone next to the coffee machine, and hurried to answer it.

  “Laurel, did you call me? I had a missed call from you. Was that you?”

  “Yes, Mom. Where are you?” I asked urgently.

  “I didn’t want to call back on your cell phone, because you weren’t able to get the call through to me. I thought you might be waiting for me at my house.”

  “Mom, listen…”

  She cut me off. “Pastor Green’s calling.” She hung up.

  I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Hopefully, the long-suffering Pastor Green could talk some sense into her. There was no point hanging around Mom’s house any longer.

  As I was walking back to the funeral home, Bryce’s car pulled up. He got out of the car and called after me, “Have you seen your mother?”

  “I don’t think she’s going to be home for a long time,” I said. Silently, I added, Probably fifteen years.

  Bryce did not respond. He just turned his back and trudged into Mom’s house.

  I shivered and continued on my way back to the funeral home. Bryce was starting to look more suspicious. I really needed to speak to Frank, but he had been avoiding me ever since he thought I suspected his girlfriend.

  As soon as I walked into the funeral home, I called out, “Frank! Frank! It’s urgent.”

  There was n
o response. I walked into my office and called out again. Nothing. “Frank, I know you’re there! I need to talk to you right now. I have a suspect, and it’s not your girlfriend.” I waited a few minutes, and then called out again, “Frank, you won’t be able to cross over until we find your murderer. I don’t think it’s your girlfriend, but I do have a suspect and I need to speak to you about him. Now!”

  Frank slowly manifested in front of me.

  I came straight to the point. “Frank, did you ever have a client by the name of Mrs. Wilson?” I realized then that I did not know her name.

  “What’s this about?” Frank asked me. It was clear he was still suspicious, if not a little paranoid.

  “Frank, I don’t have time for this. The police are about to arrest my mother, and I honestly don’t think Mandi had anything to do with your murder. I’m now thinking it might have been someone called Bryce Wilson. It’s just a hunch. I need to know if his wife was ever a client of yours.”

  Frank assumed his full form. “What’s her name?”

  “I don’t know her name, I only know that she was Bryce Wilson’s wife. She had a whole bunch of kids, and she left him about five years ago, I think. I’ve heard he’s not a very nice man, and he blamed the escort for her leaving him.”

  Frank tapped his head. “Oh yes, it’s all coming back to me now. Brenda, Brenda Wilson. She only ever wanted to talk. The husband was pretty mean to her and her kids, from what she said. She had a terrible time. Last I spoke to her, she was planning to leave him. I’m glad she did.”

  I thought for a moment.

  “Frank, did you ever meet her husband, Bryce Wilson?”

  Frank snorted rudely. “Well, I wouldn’t say met him exactly, but the last time I saw Brenda, her husband was supposed to be away fishing. Anyway, as I was leaving their house, he came home early and tried to hit me with his car.”

  “Did he get a good look at you?”

  “I suppose he did. He was yelling obscenities out the window and he had me blocked with his car against the wall. I didn’t see him because the car windows were tinted. Anyway, I ran away as soon as I could. I was worried that he’d take it out on poor Brenda, but then I heard she left town. Good for her.”

  “So you wouldn’t recognize Bryce if you saw him again?”

  Frank shook his head. “I didn’t even see him in the first place.”

  “But he got a good look at you?”

  “He sure did, and if Brenda hadn’t called the police, he would’ve killed me, most likely.”

  I was trying to put two and two together. “Okay, did you meet the builder when you were at my mother’s house?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “That was Bryce Wilson.”

  Frank’s mouth formed a perfect O shape. “You’re kidding!”

  “My mother didn’t introduce you?”

  He went to answer, but I forestalled him. “No, try to remember clearly before you say anything. This is important.”

  Frank waved a hand at me in dismissal. “I told you there was nothing wrong with my memory. I remember it well, because I thought it was strange. Your mother introduced me as her escort, and introduced him as a wonderful blessing from the Lord. I wondered why she didn’t use his name. Since I’ve been dead, I realize that’s typical of her.”

  I shuddered. “I’ll have to call the police.” I reached into my pocket for my phone, but it wasn’t there.

  “Missing something?”

  The angry voice came from behind me.

  Chapter 22

  I swung around. It was Bryce.

  I stood frozen to the spot, horror stricken. “What do you want?” I stammered.

  He waved my phone at me. “I read everything you texted your boyfriend! You think I murdered that man.”

  “Of course I don’t,” I lied. “I’m just looking at the suspects one by one. I think Jenny Thorogood murdered him.”

  Bryce laughed, but it was more of a grunting sound, like a wild pig when it comes across something it could kill in the bushes. He was holding a hat pin in a gloved hand.

  “I also heard you on the phone to the police about this hat pin. I went home to get it, and I was going to bring it back and put it somewhere to implicate your mother. That’s when I came across your phone. I probably wouldn’t have even read it, only for the fact that there was an incoming text mentioning me right when I was looking at it.”

  I had hoped to convince him that I didn’t suspect him, but now that he had come out and all but confessed to the murder, the game was up.

  “And now I’m going to take care of you, and pin it on your mother.”

  I wondered if he knew he had made a pun, and then wondered why I even thought that, when I was in mortal danger.

  I figured my best chance was to reason with him. “So you intend to murder me and make it look like my mother did it?” I asked him, trying to speak without my voice shaking.

  He raised the hat pin and took a step toward me. “Everyone knows your mother dislikes you. She’s always saying terrible things about you to everyone at church. She says you’re good for nothing and she’s sorry she ever had you. The police already think she killed that man because of her religious fervor, and they’ll think she killed you, too, in a fit of madness.”

  I narrowed my eyes, furious with my mother. Still, perhaps Bryce was exaggerating. I hoped so, anyway. “Why don’t you make a run for it? Just go to another state, or even another country. Then you won’t have to pay any child support. The police already think Mom’s only pretending to be insane. Everyone knows that Mom wouldn’t be able to overpower me, so it’ll look obvious that someone else is the murderer, not Mom.”

  Bryce ignored my words and charged at me, the hat pin raised to strike. Before I even had a chance to take evasive action, Mom burst into the room.

  “Laurel, why aren’t you answering your phone?” she snapped at me. “I need help carrying all my bags to the house. Bryce, I’m so pleased to see you. I bought you this lovely gift for doing such a wonderful job on my kitchen.”

  I at once noticed two things. Firstly, Mom was struggling with a giant metal cross. Secondly, she didn’t seem to notice that anything was amiss, namely that Bryce was trying to kill me with her hat pin.

  Bryce appeared to be momentarily taken aback, but I knew it wouldn’t take him much time to rally. The thought flashed across my mind that he would kill us both and make it look like I killed Mom while defending myself.

  Bryce grabbed my arm and I stomped on his foot. It had no effect. Bryce spun around to face Mom, the hat pin in his other hand. “No, Thelma! Stop right there!”

  Mom hurried over to him, struggling with the cross. “I won’t take no for an answer, Bryce. You’re supposed to accept gifts. All the evangelists I watch on TV say you must never refuse a gift. They never refuse gifts, and look how God has blessed them! They’re all multi-millionaires! And you will be blessed too, Bryce, if you accept gifts.”

  Bryce lunged at Mom with the hat pin. For some reason, she appeared to think he wanted to shake her hand. She stuck her hand out toward him in a handshaking gesture. As she did so, she lost hold of the giant metal cross.

  It fell forward and struck Bryce on the head. He dropped like a rock.

  Mom shrieked and hurried over to Bryce’s body sprawled on the ground, and patted him on the cheek. She stood up and glared at me. “Look what you’ve done, Laurel! This is all your fault! If you had only helped me carry all my shopping bags, I wouldn’t have dropped that cross on this poor man. What if you’ve killed him?”

  “He’s the murderer, Mom!” I said sharply. I bent down to retrieve my phone from his pocket.

  “Stop robbing the man, Laurel!” Mom said.

  “Quiet, please!” I snapped at her. “Bryce has just confessed to killing Frank Wright. He was trying to kill me when you came in. Now please be quiet, because I have to call the police.”

  Mom bent over Bryce and prayed for him. I was calling the police station, when
the detectives burst through the door. “Bryce Wilson is the murderer!” I said. “Look at that hat pin. He came here to murder me because he knew I was onto him.”

  I knew they were here to arrest Mom, and I was concerned they would think I was lying. After all, they hadn’t heard his confession. “If you test that hat pin, you’ll find it was the murder weapon. He said he was going to murder me and make it look like Mom did it. He came here to plant the hat pin somewhere in her house.”

  The detectives appeared to be at a loss. “Bryce Wilson’s ex-wife employed the services of Frank Wright about five years ago,” I continued. “She left Bryce after that, and he’s always blamed Frank. He’s resentful because he has to pay child support. In fact, she actually had to call the police because Bryce was about to attack Frank. It will all be in the records.”

  “So how did you manage to knock him out?” Detective Prescott asked me.

  “It was Mom,” I said. “She hit him on the head with the cross.”

  “It was an accident,” Mom said firmly. “I was only trying to shake his hand.”

  Prescott and Wilkinson exchanged glances.

  Chapter 23

  I was sitting in the waiting room at the police station, trying to hold a conversation with Ernie, while at the same time trying to appear sane to onlookers.

  “Frank’s crossed over now,” Ernie said.

  I nodded, trying to disguise the movement as a neck stretch.

  I had already given my statement, and Bryce had confessed. Mom was still giving her statement. It must have been the longest attempt to take a statement on record, and I figured they were trying to make some sort of sense of what she was saying. Goodness knows where poor Pastor Green was—probably lying down with a cold pack on his head. He should be so lucky.

  Basil was sitting on one side of me, and Ian was sitting on the other. Basil had his arm firmly around me, holding me so tightly that I was partly out of my chair. I was uncomfortable, but I was liking every second of it. “Please stop nearly being murdered, Laurel,” Basil whispered in my ear. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”