Murder at the Inn

by London Lovett

  Edward materialized behind Jackson with a fierce glower.

  "What are you saying, Sunni? You don't want me to arrest him?"

  I shrugged. "I don't think he'll come back." I shivered slightly at the thought of him wandering through my bedroom. "He's leaving tomorrow with Rex on a road trip. I don't think he meant harm. He's just obsessed with ghosts. Besides, how can a man who wears Birkenstock sandals be dangerous?" My attempt at humor fell flat.

  Jackson was not happy. "Fine, I'll tell them to let him go," he said curtly and turned to leave.

  "Don't be mad, Jackson. I still appreciate you coming back here," I said weakly, knowing that anger had already turned off his listening ears.

  He walked out the door and down the steps to the police car without another word. One minute I was close to being kissed, the next I was on the receiving end of a sharp heel turn. What a rotten way to end the evening.

  I turned and headed back to the kitchen. Edward was perched on the hearth with his arms crossed. He was just about to add his unnecessary lecture to the mix. I wasn't in the mood.

  "Not a word, Edward. Not a word." I plucked the envelope from the table, walked into my bedroom and shut the door sharply.

  Chapter 30

  Occasionally, I needed my friend Raine more than I needed my sisters. Today was one of those days. Naturally, both of my sisters had texted me the second I walked into my bedroom. They could both see the flashing red lights in front of my house and were worried. I assured them everything was fine but didn't have the spirit or enthusiasm to replay the night for them. As the older sister, Lana was much better at handing out opinions than listening. She would surely lecture me about the wrong decision I’d made in not charging Nielsen. And Emily lived such a heavenly, charmed existence with her doting, wonderful husband and her animals . . . and then there were Cuddlebug and Tinkerbell. No one could have a bad day if they had little goats prancing around the yard. I'd texted Raine almost the second I sat down at my desk to make sure she was available for lunch. I needed to rant and whine and chastise myself to a good listener. And Raine was a good listener. A skill she’d probably honed during her years of trying to communicate with spirits. And that was the second reason for our lunch date. I needed to find out what she knew about the ghost at Dandelion Inn. Edward certainly existed and could do things like scare intruders or slam shut doors. It seemed plausible that Kenneth had met up with Lauren Grace's spirit. Only instead of Rex's theory that Lauren got tired of Kenneth's obsession with her, I'd come up with a possible scenario of my own. If Kenneth was truly just a fake like Nielsen purported, then his reaction coming face to face with an actual ghost might have scared him into the fall. I had no proof of any of it, but I was desperately looking for an angle for my article and Raine was my go-to source on the spirit world.

  I'd hoped to get out of the office before Parker arrived. He was going to be late, and Myrna wasn't sure if he'd be in at all. He was certain he'd developed an allergy to his wife's cat and was heading to an allergist to find out for sure.

  Parker barreled into the newspaper office ten minutes before my lunch break. He was a large, brusque man for having such a delicate constitution. "Taylor," he barked. "What are you working on now that the Applegate thing fell apart?" He laughed. "Or, I guess I should say fell down. What's your angle going to be, and it better be good. That labor dispute piece Chase sent me is as dry and dull as reading the cereal box."

  "I'm working on the new angle. It has to do with the accident and the vandalism of the portrait." I realized as soon as I said it that he wouldn't have heard anything about the painting yet. "Last night there was an incident at Dandelion Inn. The famous portrait of the original owner and apparent ghost at the inn was slashed. Damaged beyond repair. I'm going to head back there after lunch to do some snooping around." I hadn't planned to revisit the Dandelion today, but the idea popped into my head. I figured it would convince my editor into thinking I was hot on the trail of something noteworthy.

  "That's good. Follow that story. The town council is already upset that our chances of hosting the paranormal convention have just been quashed by Applegate's death. Maybe all is not lost yet. If there is something strange going on at that inn, I'm sure you'll uncover it." He was putting a heaping serving of trust on me, which only served to break my confidence.

  Parker walked into his office and shut the door.

  Myrna looked across the room at me. "It's not fair that he puts all the pressure on you to write something dazzling for the paper. He doesn't even bother to expect anything from Chase, his lead reporter."

  I pulled on my coat. "I don't mind the pressure. I just hope I can deliver. I'm going to head over to Dandelion Inn after lunch. With any luck, a ghost will jump out of a closet and take a few selfies with me. That oughta sell some papers. See you later, Myrna."

  "Good luck with the ghost selfies."

  I walked to Layers. I pulled my coat closer to shield myself from the cool breeze drizzling through the trees. Fall was definitely in the air. Rain from the night before had left a distinctive almost smoky fragrance wafting off of the asphalt and sidewalk. The downpour had lasted a short time but had been hostile enough to wash piles of dead leaves and debris into the road. If it had lasted another hour, it would have washed the same residue away.

  Raine was wearing a bright yellow knit beanie as she approached Layers from the opposite side where her psychic shop was located. Her bangles glittered as she waved at me.

  "Ballard added some new sandwiches to the menu. She does it every fall when the weather starts to cool. Get this," she said enthusiastically. "The Marlon Brando is a deconstructed roast beef sandwich in a bread bowl that's filled with mashed potatoes, carrots, roast beef and gravy."

  "That sounds delicious," I said. "But since I'm not running a twenty-six mile marathon this afternoon, I might opt for something lighter." I rubbed my stomach. It was still a little sore. "Besides, I crave a good long chat more than food today."

  She put her arm around me. "Well then, you've asked the right person to lunch. Let's go inside and you can tell me all about your exciting evening with detectives and police cars and flashing lights."

  "I guess my sister already filled you in on my night."

  "Yes but she was seriously lacking details."

  The aroma of roast beef struck us as we walked inside. Apparently the cold weather had made Marlon Brando the popular choice for the day. If I'd had a better appetite, I would have ordered one.

  We walked to a table near the back and sat down.

  Raine's yellow beanie was so bright it almost hurt my eyes. She seemed to sense it and pulled it off. "So, my friend, let's hear the whole story and don't leave out any of the good stuff."

  Chapter 31

  Raine drifted into an intoxicated state with her luscious bread bowl brimming with mashed potatoes, roast and gravy while I picked at my Debbie Reynolds, hummus, cucumber and avocado on whole wheat toast. My appetite was still dimmed by the chaotic night.

  "I still can't believe there was a near kiss," Raine said just before a bite of potato.

  "I guess it's silly to dwell on it because it never happened, so I can't really categorize it as a near kiss. It was just a leaning toward the possibility of a kiss."

  "Yes but it was the possibility of a kiss from Detective Jackson. Not just some average Joe from down the road." She sat back with a proud smile. "My best friend was nearly kissed by Detective Brady Jackson. I'm jealous and proud all at once." She followed her shallow boast with a sigh.

  After telling Raine all the details of the crazy night, intruder included, she was still focused on the near kiss. I regretted even mentioning it. I was starting to feel like a school girl just talking about it. I picked up my sandwich but put it down when a text came through. There I was being a school girl again, hoping the text was from the boy who almost kissed me. It was from Lana.

  "I heard the painting of Lauren Grace was destroyed," Lana texted.

  "
Yep, I'm at lunch with Raine. I'll tell you about it later."

  Raine waited with anticipation. "So was it him? Was it Jackson?"

  "Sorry to burst your bubble but it was Lana." I wiped my hands on my napkin, deciding I'd had enough Debbie Reynolds. "You don't seem that surprised about what Jamie Nielsen did."

  Raine shrugged. "Like I said, I don't know him that well except that he's somewhat delusional about his talents. What did you say he was after? An envelope with research inside of it?"

  I'd had no choice except to tell Raine the same lie I'd told Jackson. If there was ever a time when I wanted to tell everything, just spill the entire secret to my best friend, it was today. But it wasn't my secret to tell. It was Edward's.

  "Yes, it's all about the history of Cider Ridge. Jamie was snooping over my shoulder as I was scanning the—the information. Must have been something in there he thought was important." I was counting on the fact that Jamie had left town with Rex this morning, never to return. Otherwise, I was going to have some cleaning up to do.

  "I don't quite understand what he could have possibly gleamed from the inn's history but then Jamie likes to write books about haunted places. Maybe he thought Cider Ridge would make a good subject. I can tell you there are more vibrations and disturbances in your house than in any other place I've been." She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "I could swear sometimes we are being watched when we are sitting in your kitchen having lunch or coffee. He's there, I'm sure of it."

  I smiled stiffly. "You might be right."

  "I know I'm right." She returned to her Marlon Brando. "This is delicious but I'm going to need a nap after lunch. Good thing I don't have anything on my calendar. And Lana is still working on purchase orders for the wedding receptions. I might just take a hot bath and kick my feet up for the rest of the day."

  "Or," I said excitedly, "you could go with me to Dandelion Inn. I've asked Kitty for permission to snoop around a bit and look for evidence in the destruction of the portrait. Poor thing is so exhausted from the week, she basically sighed in surrender at my request. She told me 'you might as well. The week is a lost cause anyhow'. She really is a sweet lady."

  Raine lifted up both her palms like trays on an old fashioned scale. She lifted her right palm. "Hmm, let me see, hot bath and nap." She lifted her left palm. "Or snooping around an old inn that I already know doesn't have much happening other than the usual creaks and moans of an old house." She held them even for a second, and it looked like bath and nap were going to win. "What the heck, I'll go."

  "Perfect. Wait did you say you knew about the hauntings at Dandelion Inn?"

  "Hauntings? I'd hardly call them that. I was invited by a group of women who were on a girls’ weekend at the inn. They asked me to do a séance and summon Lauren Grace. I performed it, of course. Some people like my séance's." She looked pointedly at me. "Only I knew almost the moment I sat down at the table that there was nothing in the house that could be conjured, summoned, or communicated with. I've heard tales of Lauren Grace's ghost in that house, but I've never felt her presence."

  "Interesting. Although, I will admit, the few recollections of supposed encounters with Lauren Grace were underwhelming at best. Still, something strange is going on in that house. When Kenneth fell, he pleaded with someone to leave him alone and go away. Then the painting gets destroyed while everyone is upstairs in bed. Of course, Nielsen wasn't. He was busy staking out my house, apparently waiting for me to leave so he could break in."

  "That does make him look suspicious, don't you think?" Raine asked. "I mean if he was capable of entering someone's home uninvited—"

  "Then he's capable of murder?" I asked skeptically.

  Raine pursed her lips. "Yeah, I guess one doesn't necessarily follow the other. Do you think Kitty will mind if I tag along?"

  "Not if we tell her you are there to try and communicate with Lauren. After all, if she is lingering in the house, there'd be no better witness to both crimes. In fact, Rex Thunder thinks Lauren got sick of Kenneth ogling her portrait and scared him right off the top steps to his death. I confess, I've wondered the same thing."

  "That seems far-fetched. Maybe Rex came up with that theory to cover for his own misdeed."

  I pulled out my wallet. "I'll pay for lunch since you're doing me this favor."

  "Woo hoo, that made this Marlon Brando even more delicious."

  I took out the money and placed it under the check. "I know Jackson thought the same thing when Rex announced his theory. Then there's the matter of money—always a good motive for murder."

  We got up from the table and waved to Ballard on our way out. Clouds had moved in, making the day, all at once, colder and gloomier.

  Raine pulled her yellow beanie down on her head. I couldn't hold back a laugh. "That cap takes yellow to a whole other level."

  "It's lemon yellow," Raine said with a chin lift.

  "No, it's atomic yellow. People flying overhead in jetliners can track your movements along the sidewalk."

  "Funny." She straightened the beanie. "I like it. Anyhow, what money motive are you talking about?"

  "It seems Kenneth Applegate's father was a bit of a bohemian ghost chaser. Traveled around the country in the sixties in a Volkswagen bus. In reality, he was heir to a large fortune."

  "Yes, Martin Applegate is still a big name in paranormal circles. He was far more naturally talented than his son. Or at least that is what I've heard. And I knew he was wealthy. I think the family was in real estate."

  We reached my jeep. "For someone who claims to be independent from the paranormal circles, you sure know a lot about them."

  "Just because I don't traipse around the country with them doesn't mean I shouldn't be informed."

  "True." We climbed into the jeep and I turned it on to the get the heat started.

  Raine watched me fiddle with the controls. "Guess it's official. Air conditioner season is gone and it's time to crank the heat."

  "I personally love the change of seasons." I pulled out to the road.

  "Me too. It lets me pull out all my brightly colored beanies," she said with a satisfied grin. "Who would get rich if Kenneth died?"

  "His sister, Angela. Or I should say, half sister. They had different moms. Martin had a falling out with Angela's mother, so he cut them out of the will. Kenneth had no other family so the bulk of his money will go to Angela."

  "Interesting. Is Angela a suspect?"

  "She has motive but there just isn't much evidence to charge anyone. Jax doesn't admit it, but I think he's in a muddle. The only thing he has to go on is the two witnesses claiming they heard Kenneth pleading on the stairs." I could feel Raine staring at the side of my face as I watched the road. "What?" I asked.

  "So it's Jax now, eh?"

  "That's what you picked up on?" I wriggled in the seat and straightened my posture. "And yes, that's what he told me to call him. I like it."

  "No argument from me. I just thought it was interesting that you were on a nickname basis already."

  "For your information, he's had a nickname for me since he first met me at the Alder Stevens murder scene." I regretted the statement the second I said it.

  Raine twisted sideways on the seat. "Is that right? And what might that nickname be?"

  "You sound just like Lana when you're being annoying."

  "Thank you, I consider that a compliment. Out with it. What does the dreamiest detective this side of the Mississippi call you?"

  I stared straight ahead at the road. "You're the psychic. Figure it out yourself."

  She sat back against the seat. "I'll do just that."

  Chapter 32

  It seemed as if our conversation about Detective Jackson had made him think of me. My phone rang just as I parked in front of Dandelion Inn. Raine knew exactly who it was when I looked up from my phone screen.

  "Fine, I'll wait outside." She reluctantly climbed out of the car.

  "Hey, Sunni, sorry I didn't call earlier. I've been at
the courthouse all morning. I just wanted to check in and see how you were feeling." There was a note of disappointment in Jackson's voice. He was still upset with my decision not to press charges against Jamie.

  "I'm fine, thanks. Jax, I'm sorry about last night. I know you wanted to take Nielsen into the station but—I just didn't want to get tied up in something like that. Besides, I think his motives were purely to advance his standing in the paranormal world. There was no malicious intent."

  "Except that he pushed you."

  "Yes, he was wrong to be so defensive. I just hope you can understand."

  "Might take time. I wanted to let you know we got several fingerprints off the letter opener. I just need to get fingerprints from everyone in the house. I know Barbara and Angela are still at the inn for another day, recuperating before their trip home. Unfortunately, I won't be able to get the other prints. I called Kitty this morning, hoping to get prints before the men left. It seems they were anxious to get out of town. They left before dawn. I guess neither man was too broken up by Kenneth's death."

  "Sorry again. I guess you would have already had Jamie's prints if things had gone differently last night."

  "Can't focus on that now. I don't even know if the two crimes are related. I've got a bunch of other stuff on my plate. If I don't find anything else that marks this as murder, I may close it as an accident."

  "There's nothing else to do?" I asked.

  "I might interview everyone who was inside the house that night once more to see if there are any inconsistencies, but since his death was caused by the fall, it's much harder to pin a murder charge on someone. These kinds of cases, fatal falls and the like, are always tricky."

  Raine was standing outside the Dandelion in her yellow beanie, crossing her arms to ward off the chill in the air.

  "I've just arrived at Dandelion Inn," I said. "Kitty said it would be all right if I had another look around. I'm struggling to write my article, and I'm hoping for some inspiration."