A Sinister Slice of Murder: A Jessie Delacroix Murder Mystery (Whispering Pines Mystery Series Book 1)

by Constance Barker

  “But…can a spirit do that? Can it cut off somebody’s head? And then make it disappear?”

  The floodlights in back came on, and Hector disappeared like a flash into the pines with a small flashlight Kyle had gotten for him. Then he was out of sight.

  “I’m sorry, but I really don’t know, Jessie, dear. I’m relatively new to this. But some of those who have been in this realm for centuries or millennia are said to have developed great powers in the earthly domain. I haven’t crossed over yet, dear.”

  “What do you mean? Then, how…?”

  “I don’t want to leave Grandma Dixie here alone, honey, and she won’t leave her precious Tea Room. You know how stubborn she can be”.

  A large black cat with glowing yellow eyes strutted regally in from the courtyard, perusing the scene.

  “So, how did Granny know about Jacob, if he’s on the other side, Mom?”

  “There’s a middle ground, dear. You could say it’s like a stairway between the world and the beyond. We can go almost to the top without crossing, and those who have already crossed can come down, except for the last step. We can intermingle with them there. Mediums like Irene can take the first step into that middle ground too. That’s why they’re called ‘mediums,’ Jessie.”

  This was a lot for my little brain to deal with right now, especially with a headless corpse just a few feet away and the room filled with so much chatter and commotion.

  “But who would be so evil to do this, Mom?”

  “There are dark forces here, sweetheart…and in your world too.”

  Then she faded away.

  The doors to the lobby slid open, and there stood the two young St. George twins. They had come downstairs to find out what all the ruckus was about. Mrs. St. George had a ghastly expression on her grieving face when she saw them. She wanted her boys to be spared the trauma of seeing their father in this horrific condition.

  The cat flew like a streak of black wind into the lobby. Maybe he belonged to the old guy in the pawnshop, because the man appeared behind the boys a moment later with red and yellow lollipops for each of them, and he led them into the Tea Room.

  Cassie was slowly coming back to consciousness, but her mother encouraged her to sleep. She kept her eyes closed, but that didn’t stop the tears when she recalled what she had seen.

  Lexi had gone over to the curtains at the open end of the solarium to rescue Ashley from Arthur. Kyle was talking to the girl now, and Lexi was holding my little beagle in one arm, gently bouncing him as she rocked from side to side in a sort of “Mommy Two-Step” that she had become quite adept at in the course of raising three little ones. She didn’t even seem to realize that she was mothering my little fellow as she listened to her husband talk to Ashley. I joined them.

  “Careful, Jessie,” Kyle warned, “I spotted a few drips of blood between here and Mr. St. George, so stay clear of this swath here. The sheriff’s crime scene team should be here any minute.”

  I avoided the area he pointed out and put my arm around Lexi’s waist. I laid my head on her shoulder and patted Arthur’s head. She was about four inches taller than me and had a very comforting presence. Maybe it goes back to that babysitter thing.

  “We’re going to need that apron, Ashley,” Kyle said in his professional manner, “and the sheriff will want to speak to you when he get’s here too, so just stay right here, okay?”

  The poor thing was beside herself, trembling now as she nodded her understanding. I took a step to try to give her a consoling hug.

  “Ah-uh-uh!” Kyle put his hand out to block me. “Sorry, Jessie. Possible blood-spatter evidence on her apron, maybe on her smock too.”

  I had forgotten that Kyle was no ordinary security guard. He had a degree in law enforcement and forensic investigation, and law enforcement units from around southern Georgia and northern Florida often called him in to consult on cases. He picked up a little extra cash giving expert opinions in criminal trials sometimes too.

  “Everybody,” he called out above the din of conversations, “please stay where you are, and don’t touch anything or anybody – including yourselves and the floor. There may be blood or other evidence that we can’t easily see, and we do not want to contaminate the crime scene. Please be patient – the sheriff and his team should be here shortly.”

  By now word had spread all up and down the street, and curiosity seekers and gawkers were flooding the driveway. All of the guests who were inside the building had been directed to the Tea Room, and Lionel had blocked the main entrance with a long sawhorse he used for traffic control in the driveway on busy days.

  “Nobody in, nobody out,” he said.

  “But I’m staying at the Inn. My family is in there,” one man protested.

  “Very sorry, sir. I understand your frustration, but this is a police matter, and those are the rules until further notice.”

  I could hear a loud “whoop” from a squad car arriving in front, while two deputies on horseback pulled up in back at the same time. The car must have flown to get here that fast, and the two in back probably took the airboat ferry to the horse ranch and commandeered a couple of mounts.

  We rarely saw the sheriff himself, but he came walking through the front and into the solarium with a secretary at his side taking notes. Kyle met them at the double doors and walked them around the edge to meet with his deputies in back.

  The deputies had quickly cordoned off the entire perimeter of the solarium and the courtyard, all the way back to the loblolly pines.

  “I didn’t come here to talk to Rodney and Edgar, Kyle. Where’s this headless corpse?”

  Kyle pointed with his eyebrows and a tilt of his head toward the table. The séance participants were gathered close to Mrs. St. George, trying their best not to move. Fortunately, the crime scene forensic team arrived, wearing paper booties and latex gloves, at the doorway from the lobby. The team of three lifted the yellow tape and took one step inside. They sprayed something on the floor in front of them as they stepped carefully – Kyle said it was “Luminol” – and shined an ultraviolet light on the floor, tracking it back and forth in front of them as they made a wide path around the table to the body. They didn’t want to step on any bloody mist they couldn’t see.

  “I think the perp must have come and gone from the back end here,” Kyle told them. “There seem to be a few traces of blood between the body and the left side of the opening. A few drops, but mostly a light spray.”

  The team leader checked the floor beyond the table and nodded her agreement. She signaled Kyle and the Sheriff to approach the table.

  “Keep to this side, Sheriff Muldoon.”

  Sheriff Matt Muldoon stood head and shoulders above everyone else – definitely over seven feet with his hat. He wore a dark brown uniform with a lot of gold and brass buttons, badges, and medals that set him apart from the deputies in their light tan shirts. His buckskin boots were well kept and a mahogany brown, and high atop his head was a Smokey-the-Bear hat with a yellow and black department emblem on the front. There was no doubt who the chief-head dude in charge of this room was.

  “Sure thing, Audrey. What have we got here?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  Muldoon was probably mid-forties, but seemed to have eyes for the thirtyish fiery green-eyed redhead in charge of the forensic team. Actually, every guy in the room seemed to be taken with the gorgeous and, no doubt, brilliant scientist.

  A young member of the team, who looked like he spent too much time at the donut shop, was snapping pictures, while the other one wore a surgical mask and was placing numbered yellow tent markers and pointing out areas for the photographer to shoot, mostly small pools of blood. He had a stick of gum that he moved around and placed in each photo as a gauge of the size. Hey, this isn’t the big city. I’m sure he’ll probably chew the gum when they’re done. Ew.

  Audrey unwittingly taunted the sheriff with a seductive hair toss and had her guys get shots of the body from every angl
e, near and far, and take several samples of the blood from each numbered location on the table and the floor. They also collected the apron from Ashley and asked her to sit at a nearby table outside and wait for questioning.

  Then Kyle and the others moved in for a closer examination of the deceased designer’s body.

  The two deputies held the body upright in the chair so the others could examine the neck “wound.”

  “Not much blood here for a severed head,” the sheriff noted.

  Kyle and Audrey put on masks, and both leaned in close to get a good look.

  “What the heck…” Kyle got even closer and looked all around the neck opening. Then their heads turned toward each other with a puzzled look.

  “What? What is it?” The Sheriff wanted to know, and so did the rest of us.

  “There’s not much blood,” Audrey began, shaking her head in bewilderment.

  And Kyle finished the thought: “…because the wound has been cauterized. Whoever cut off Mr. St. George’s head…”

  “Or whatever,” Carlo interjected.

  “…must have used a very hot blade.”

  “And razor sharp,” Audrey added. “The cut is very clean, and it looks like special care was taken to make sure that both carotid arteries and the jugular vein were sealed off pretty well.”

  “That accounts for the fact that we aren’t slipping and sliding in a big pool of blood.” Kyle had forgotten that this was still a very sensitive matter for the queasy survivors in the room.

  Mrs. St. George let out a little gasp and looked like she might faint.

  “Get the wife and the daughter into the coffee shop, and get them some tea, Rodney,” the Sheriff ordered.

  “Sorry, Sheriff.” Kyle winced at his own insensitivity. “And there is just some red mist and a few droplets between here and the courtyard too.”

  Granny was eavesdropping on Edgar, who was questioning Ashley outside. So I wandered over close enough to hear them too.

  “I told you, I didn’t see anyone hanging around outside, Deputy Granger, and nobody came in. It all happened so fast. I felt a little breeze when the lights went out, and then I smelled something funny. I think maybe it was something the Gypsy lady was burning in the candle. I don’t know. And then I felt a bigger rush of air. The little animals outside must have felt it too because the birds in the trees all got spooked and flew off, and I could hear some squirrels scratching their way up the bark. Then the lights came on. A few minutes later Officer Carnigan saw some little specs of blood on my apron. That’s all I can tell you. Can I go home now?”

  The poor girl was terrified. I had done some investigating with Cammy Jo back in Savannah – even a couple of murders – but nothing like this, so I was just a tiny bit scared out of my mind too.

  Everyone who was in the building had to be questioned, and every room would have to be searched before the Sheriff and his team could leave too. It would be a long night for law enforcement. The Sheriff had brought in more investigators, and they were already taking statements from everybody in the lobby and the Tea Room. Maddy was up at the front door where she had been told to allow Inn guests back inside, but nobody could go upstairs. All the rooms had to be checked for any evidence of an “inside job.”

  Lexi gently handed my sleeping pup, Arthur, to me and went off to join Kyle. What a great mother she must be. It seemed like the shadow of a mountain was falling on me when the Sheriff walked over to me. I had to lean back a little to see all the way up to his eyes.

  “Good evening, Miss Delacroix. I heard you were back in town.”

  “Hi, Sheriff Muldoon. Pretty strange case, I guess, huh?”

  “And probably not the kind of ‘welcome home’ you had in mind either, I’d guess.” He smiled the way people smile at each other at funerals. “Anyway, we’re going to have to close you down entirely for a few days. The guests can stay overnight once we’ve gone through all the rooms, but they’ll have to leave by 9 o’clock in the morning. With a celebrity victim like this, the state police and FBI are getting involved too, and there’ll be a lot of investigative teams here in the morning.”

  Closed down. Wow. That hurt, but it made sense. “I understand, Sheriff.”

  “Of course, the sitting room here and the courtyard in back will be taped off for at least a week, until everybody from Ware County to Atlanta to D.C. is satisfied that they’ve got all the evidence they need.”

  I nodded, but must have looked kind of pathetic and dejected about the closure. I’m sure the “Twitter-verse” was exploding, and people and reporters from all over the world would be coming into town. I guess they’ll all be eating at the Dairy Queen and staying at the hotel in Stony Point.

  “But I’ll tell you what, little lady. There will be a lot of hungry law enforcement folks around here. If you can see fit to feed a few county, state, and federal bellies, I’ll see to it that you can have that little café open by mid-afternoon tomorrow. That way you can take care of all those curious fans and people from the press who want to camp out and wait for our press conferences and updates.”

  My eyes got bright, and I almost felt like hugging him – if I could have reached his neck.

  “Of course,” he continued, “I’ll have to post a couple of men on the grounds to keep folks from trying to sneak in the backyard or into the crime scene room, ma’am.”

  “But won’t the FBI take over if they get involved? Are you sure you can let me open the Tea Room?”

  The big man smiled – a real smile this time – and bent down to match my height. He put his hands on his knees, they way grownups do when they talk to a small child.

  “They’ll come to get their splashy headline, but they won’t have any jurisdiction here unless they can find some kind of interstate connection. And even if they do…” He stood back up to his full height. “…they’ve never met Sheriff Matthew Muldoon. This is my turf, and I make the rules.” He nodded. “Ma’am,” he said, lifting his hat respectfully an inch or two, and went on his way.

  Just then a dark figure came wandering out of the pine forest. It gave me a little start at first, under the circumstances, but it was Hector, the bodyguard, soaking wet from head to toe. He stopped right before entering the room.

  “There are alligators in that swamp!”

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  Chapter Six

  It was a long, late night. Everybody who was at the table during the séance was interviewed by three different officers. I was bored out of my gourd, rehashing the same sparse facts and trying to stay awake. It was almost dawn before the dead body was released to the transport ambulance and brought to the morgue in Stony Point to be examined and autopsied. I was starting to think I should have stayed in Savannah.

  Arthur and I slept like bricks, and it was mid-morning before we woke up. I called Maddy, who was at the Inn to get everyone checked out by the deadline.

  “Did you get everyone out of there on time, Maddy?”

  “Just barely, but yes. The St. George girl made a scene, wanting to go back up to the room after breakfast, but it was past 9:00, so they wouldn’t let her. The mother was sure she had everything, though. She probably just wanted to grab the little shampoos. We’ve got some really good ones right now.”

  “Okay, well, if the Inn is closed now, you should go and get some rest.

  “We’ll see. I’m getting my second wind now, so I should be okay. And…”

  Then she was silent for a long moment before she spoke again.

  “…Sparkles had a nice big hairball waiting for me in the middle of the kitchen floor when I got home last night. And she was prancing around like a kitten.”

  “What? Oh…that’s great Madz. How is everything else going there right now?”

  “Everything is fine here, Hermoine…I mean, Jessie.”

  “Stop it. It was just a little feeling I had. Maybe I’ll see you this afternoo
n.”

  The Nirvana wouldn’t be able to open for several hours. It seemed like a good opportunity to get away from the surreal madness and media circus here and visit Lexi and the kids at her place.

  I called the kitchen phone at the Tea Room to see if Carlo was there, but it just rang for a long time. Finally there was an answer.

  “Hello.”

  “Mom?”

  “Uh, good morning, sweetie. Carlo is in the walk-in cooler. He can’t hear the phone.”

  “Oh, okay. Did the sheriff say when we could open?” It was strange enough to have my Mom back as a ghost, but now I was talking to her on the phone? I might need a stiff one or three after the last few days.

  “They are combing through the place now. The tall guy said they would be done by two o’clock, and Carlo will need two hours to get things ready, so we’ll open at 4:00.”

  “Thanks. I’ll tell Lexi. See you then.”

  Fortunately, the carriage house was outside of the taped-off area, and Lionel had kept my driveway clear for me. I looked out my bedroom window, over the only peach tree in Whispering Pines. Carlo had planted it for me when I was just a baby, because I guess I like strained peaches, and I was his little Georgia peach.

  It was crazy outside. There was a helicopter in back between the courtyard and the pines, but I didn’t know who had flown in. Carlisle Boulevard was lined with satellite news trucks with their big uplink dishes aimed high and a little to the South, with call-letters from stations as far away as Raleigh, Memphis, and Fort Meyers. They must have been driving all night.

  As soon as we were out of the garage stall, Arthur leapt out the window of the Silverado and dashed through the crowd, jumping up on the porch right in front of Carlo. He picked him up and waved me off. I guess Arthur already knows who controls all the food around this place.

  I backed into my turnaround and drove my yellow truck over the curb to the street in order to avoid the madness. The green area inside the main horseshoe driveway was filled with press, and the porch was teeming with law enforcement officers and investigators. The Dairy Queen and the Grab-and-Go were probably having their best day ever, and the antique shops were doing pretty well too.