Carol Shenold - Tali Cates 02 - Bloody Murder (4 page)

I wrinkled my forehead. “The boys? They gamble?” My mother believed the spirits she channeled accompanied her everywhere. She talked about them as if they were really there. I knew spirits existed, but she carried her beliefs a little further, treating her spirit guides as if they were a living part of her family.

“Actually they are quite looking forward to doing something they haven’t done before.”

“Mumsie, you can’t tell me they never gambled in the good old days. Help like that could be construed as cheating, illegal, or something.”

She added sugar and milk to her tea. “It’s not as if they can be seen. And, since when would anyone believe me if I told them I was getting help? My own family doesn’t believe anything I say about Chung Po or Amen Ka.” She gave me the benefit of an extremely pointed glance before fixing herself a tea and joining me at the dining room table.

I sipped my latte. “Yeah, but couldn’t it be a moral issue if you take advantage of their help?”

“Since they are not really there in the first place, and since anyone who believes has the potential for access to the same sources, it wouldn’t be cheating, now would it?”

The logic made my head spin. “Do your nonexistent guys have any words of wisdom about this latest death? I don’t know how much more finding-the-body I can stomach.”

“They’ve been strangely quiet on that subject, which is odd because they are usually more than willing to share advice, wanted or not.”

“Maybe you can prod them a little. Let them have fun and then hit them up. I have half the town, or at least most of the contest mothers, expecting me to pull a Jessica Fletcher/Nancy Drew caper out-of-the-hat and make it all go away.”

Mumsie gave me another mother look. “You have powers, Tali. Use them. Did you touch the body or her clothes to see what you could see? You can’t just rely on other entities to help when they can be unreliably moody at times. You have a responsibility to use your gift for the greater good.”

“How can I do that? Show up at the morgue and ask to touch the dead bodies? There goes
my
reputation down the tubes.” Of course, we don’t have a permanent morgue, so she would either be at the hospital or the funeral home—equally creepy.

Mumsie finished the last of her tea, stood up, and grabbed her purse. “I have to meet Suzie in fifteen minutes and she lives in Whitesboro, so I’m out of here. You know what you need? When I get back, I’ll do a reading. I’ve been noticing more dark energy gathering around than is usual, even for this time of year. Maybe it’s connected to that incident at the fairgrounds.”

I followed her to the door and as Mumsie roared off, Laurel pulled in. I was glad I’d at least pulled back my hair in a silver clip and put on a red turtleneck with my jeans. Despite all her faults, Laurel looked good most of the time. She had a reasonable figure, streaked hair, and classy clothes. Unfortunately, her eyes could freeze a tick and the expression on her face curdled anything lying around. Spoiled the effect of the clothes and hair.

When she got out of the car, her attempted stalk up the driveway was spoiled by the effect gravel had on her four-inch-spiked Manolos. If she had fallen, I’d have felt obliged to rush to her rescue, which could have been dangerous to
my
health.

I plastered a smile on my face. “Hi, Laurel. I’m glad you could drop by. Come on in. I have refreshment waiting.”

“It’s not like this is a social call.” Laurel discharged each word as if it were a spent bullet.

I ushered her into the dining room, poured her tea, and fixed another double shot latte and a cream cheese bagel for myself. To heck with the waistline, I needed all the fortification I could find. Laurel turned up her nose at the bagel and sipped her tea. I fully expected her to raise her little finger, but she didn’t.

“Now, Laurel, what’s on your mind—besides the murders, which, I recall, we already discussed?”

“Not enough for my taste. I need concrete actions to relate to the board and concerned citizens that will demonstrate our willingness and dedication to their safety.”

“If you truly want to keep everyone safe, cancel the contest until we find out what’s going on. How important is a little trophy in contrast with people’s lives?”

Laurel looked at me as if I’d grown two heads. “Don’t be ridiculous, Tali. We don’t know if the murder is connected to the contest at all. It could be a personal issue of some kind. You know as well as I do that most murders are committed by family members or close friends.”

When I pictured what we had found, the condition the body was in, I couldn’t imagine it was simply a relationship gone bad. There was something more going on here. I took a bite of my bagel. “Precisely, so why are you asking me for solutions or actions that I have no authority to initiate? Some of the moms want metal detectors and guards. I can’t provide that.”

“You do have a reputation for turning up dead bodies, for having—powers. I thought maybe you could help JT or influence him. He is not being cooperative.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Imagine that, JT uncooperative. He’s a lovely man in a lot of ways, but he’s very determined to do things his own way. I’ve never been able to influence him.”

“I guess we both have reason to know that about him. However, it still leaves us with the same dilemma. What are we going to do to convince everyone we are not hardhearted, we do care about the contestants—and still manage to pull off the contest? You know the screams we’ll have if we cancel, and that’s only from the contestant stage-mothers.”

I was so happy to hear her use the term
we
, I grinned broadly, probably looked like a demented Cheshire cat.

I took another bite of bagel, stopping to enjoy the contrast of crunchy bagel, creamy cheese. “Okay. Realistically, what can we provide? What about the volunteer officers, could they be available for a little extra security? Granted, we don’t know who might really be involved in the murder, but these guys would be out in the open and visible. They might act as a deterrent.”

Laurel reached for a bagel without thinking and smeared it with cream cheese before taking a bite. The expression on her face when she realized what she’d done cracked me up, and I burst into peals of laughter.

She tried to suppress the reaction, then joined me, hee-hawing as enthusiastically as I did. In between giggles, she gasped for air. “Oh my God. Did you see what I did? And JT wonders why I fuss about extra-rich stuff. It’s because I eat it if I have it around. Well, I don’t care. I’m going to finish it and be guilty later.”

Damn. She was human after all and did have a sense of humor. She could laugh at herself. I’d better watch it, I could learn to like her.

The next words out of her mouth pricked that little Pollyanna balloon.

“Now, what are we going to do about you and your reputation? I could replace you, but I’d have to do it myself and I simply don’t have time. Any suggestions?”

Yeah. You could go straight to hell.
All my warm fuzzy feelings disintegrated into a puddle. “You’ll have to deal because you’re right, no one wants the job, especially at the last minute. You’re stuck with me.”

She finished off her tea and stood up. “It’s been enlightening. Metal detectors are out so the guards will have to do. You take care of that. Tell them to be at the amphitheatre at five p.m., wearing their uniforms and ID.”

“Wait, Laurel. What if the volunteers are tied up with other police or sheriff business?”

“Just handle it. I can’t do everything. I’ll see you tonight. You
will
be there early?”

It wasn’t a question, it was a command.

* * * *

After I talked to dispatch—who said they would talk to the sheriff but thought there were some auxiliary deputies who could be used—I thought about Mumsie’s suggestion. The idea of touching the victim—I couldn’t bear to call her by name—turned my stomach. Maybe I could just touch what she was wearing. That might give me some indication about what was going on. So, how was I going to find her? Would she still be in the hospital lab or at the funeral home? What excuse could I use to get access?

Maybe if I said my firm was donating food for the post-funeral dinner. Most people have their churches do that for them but I couldn’t remember Marcia attending a specific church. I could claim to be checking on event space at the funeral home. Now, if her husband had decided to cremate, it might be difficult to get access to the body, but if they were set up for visitation, I might be able to touch her.

I called the funeral home.

“Restful Passages. How can we make your passage easier?” The tone was sober and the voice was female and about twenty-something and perky.

I choked back a giggle. Shameful. “This is Tali Cates. My firm is providing refreshments for the after-the-viewing event for the Bakers and I’d like to come and see your setup there.”

“The funeral director is out at the moment but I’m sure it would be fine for you to come on over. Ask for Jennifer. We’re not expecting the body until about one o’clock but the viewing will take place in the Serenity Room. If you arrive after the body, will it freak you out? Family shouldn’t show up until after three.”

“No. That would be ideal. I mean, I could assess the room and make sure the square footage meets our needs.” I stumbled past that, hoping the ditzy girl wouldn’t be suspicious. “I’ll see you a little past one.” With any luck, the funeral director would not be back when I got there. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

Oh my God. That’s the kind of reception I get to look forward to in the future when I have a funeral in my own family? I need to start making arrangements now.

I looked at my watch. I had time to change before I went to the funeral home, put on something more suitable for grave robbing, or body touching. Before taking my bath, I remembered to close the bathroom door all the way so our kitten, Chaos, couldn’t worm his way in and join me in the tub.

* * * *

Restful Passages Funeral Home was in a many-turreted white Victorian house with green trim. I’d dressed in slacks and a blazer instead of my favorite tee shirt and jeans so I would blend in with any visitors who might come. At the moment clouds were rolling in from the west, so the sun had disappeared. I should have known today’s warmer-than-normal temps would end in storms. How appropriate for a visit here.

When I climbed up the stairs and went in, the spacious lobby sat empty. I didn’t see the perky-sounding receptionist or a desk where she might have answered the phone. Surrounding the large room on three sides were four sets of double doors—a set on the right and left, two sets facing me with a hall in the middle. Three of the doors had nametags containing family names, times for viewing, and funeral times.

A lot of useful information displayed there for anyone to gather—the perfect way for a thief to know when a house would be empty.

I didn’t see a tag for Marcia so I chose the empty room, on the off chance it was the right one. Empty. Dang. It wasn’t set up for anything, and the next one was set up but had no casket in it. I wondered if Marcia hadn’t come yet or if there was a holding room where she’d be delivered. The hall in the middle had to lead somewhere.

I jumped when a clap of thunder rolled through the hall. It was early afternoon in a small town in Texas and I was spooked to be in a funeral home. Boy, had I watched too many movies over the years. Somewhere in my brain were grainy black-and-white pictures of zombies. The kid in me expected something to jump out and grab me, so I wasn’t surprised at my heart attack when a voice rang out.

“Hi. Can I help you? I’m Tara. Are you Tali? I wondered when you were coming. Now let me show you the room you’ll be using.” The perky-voiced receptionist ushered me back toward the rooms at the front.

I stopped. “Wait. Can you show me where Marcia is? I never got to really say goodbye, and I don’t want to intrude on the family time.”

Tara hesitated. “I guess it would be all right. No one is here right now, except for me. We don’t usually let visitors go into the preparation room but let me see… wait, she’s in a closed casket, so you should be able to go in. No problem.”

We turned around to go the opposite way, stopped halfway down the center hall, and entered a plain, no-frills room with several caskets lined up in a row.

I shivered and Tara patted me on the shoulder, obviously assuming I was grieving. She murmured comforting sounds and left me alone in the room. Guilt coursed through me that I’d fooled a nice kid who was trying to be kind. Another rumble shook the room. I knew, deep in my soul, that a casket lid would open and a thing would sit up, climb out, and come after me.

I couldn’t stand there and watch the coffins for movement. I needed to open this one and touch Marcia in case I could sense anything that would help us catch whoever caused her death. I took a deep breath, reached for the lid, and opened it. I kept my eyes on the end of the casket to avoid seeing her face again.

No one had changed her clothes so she was still in her jeans. I guessed, since she would be in a closed casket, they must have re-dressed her in the same clothes after the autopsy. I reached for the hem of her jeans, expecting another clap of thunder. Instead, the room became quieter, hushed.

I touched the denim and saw—nothing. Dark slammed into me, pushed at me. Red tinged the edges. Emotions flew through my mind—envy, fear, desire. Black emotions threatened to take over and I jerked back.

I saw no concrete images, only colors, feelings, and strong evil. After slamming closed the casket, I ran out of the room and down the hall, ran into a dead end. Wrong way—dark hall—panic—shouldn’t have come.

Trying to see what happened was dangerous, frightening, and if wicked energy touches you, it could stay with you. Whatever did this to Marcia was purely malevolent, and I felt as if it had touched me. I stumbled back the other way to find my way out before anyone came. I sought sunshine and light—well, at least light.

I burst through the front doors into—a downpour.

Chapter Four