Make the Ghost of It (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 3): (Ghost Cozy Mystery series) (10 page)

Chapter 19

“How did you know?”

Lewis and I exchanged glances.

Norbert hurried down to the aisle to me and grabbed my arm, his fingers digging in painfully. “Ian came to my motel room to invite me to church, and said that you and Basil were following us the other day.”

“Ian’s full of…”

Norbert cut me off. “I heard you say I was the murderer. Who were you talking to?”

“Lewis,” I said. “I can talk to dead people.”

Norbert looked as though he were about to strike me. “What a load of…” He broke off, and pulled me to him. “Tell me how you found out!”

“Lewis told me,” I said. Then an idea occurred to me. “Lewis is here right now. Ask me anything, something I can’t know. Lewis will give the answer.”

Norbert’s face was threatening, cold, hard. “I don’t have time for games.”

“What do you have to lose?” I asked him. “Just one thing, please.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I need to know what you know. Who else knows?”

I could feel my heart thumping in my chest. I was panicking too much to answer.

“Tell me!” Norbert yelled. He grabbed the tie-backs from a nearby curtain, pushed me into a chair, and used the brocade cords to tie me to it. He grabbed the chair I was sitting on and shook it violently. I felt tears well up at the corners of my eyes, and struggled to calm down. I tried to control my breathing, but it was coming out in short rapid bursts. I was worried I would hyperventilate.

Lewis charged at Norbert, but predictably flew straight through him harmlessly. Norbert didn’t even notice, much less react. “I won’t ask again,” Norbert said, flatly. I struggled to think of a way to buy myself some time.

“I…” Before I could finish speaking, there was a loud knock. I knew this was my opportunity, but before I could call out, Norbert grabbed a bunch of tissues from his pocket and stuffed them in my mouth. I desperately tried to scream, but could only manage a muffled cry. Norbert raised his finger to his lips, telling me to stay quiet. He walked to the door to answer it.

“Hello, sir,” I heard, and I realized whoever it was had entered the funeral home and come as far as the door to the memorial room. “Do you have a moment to talk about eternal judgment for your sins?”

“Sins?” Norbert repeated.

My heart sank when I realized it wasn’t the police. These people wouldn’t be able to help me, not unless I could get their attention.

“No, I certainly do not,” Norbert said rudely. “Now leave me alone! I’m busy.”

I struggled to break free of my bonds, but they were tied too tightly. I felt panic rise again and tried my best to fight it.

“They’re not going to be much help, Laurel,” Lewis told me flatly. I looked at him with pleading eyes. He nodded at me. “I’ll get Basil. If you can, try to buy some time.” Lewis disappeared as soon as he stopped speaking. I shook my head, but too late. Basil was in custody, so he couldn’t help me, and he was the only one who could hear Basil.

“We must insist. We shan’t be responsible for your soul languishing forever,” the man continued.

I heard Norbert sigh loudly, and for the first time in my life I was overwhelmed with happiness at the mention of eternal damnation.

“I said no!” Norbert slammed the door loudly, causing the entire room to shake. I heard muffled yelling through the door as the strangers kindly explained that Norbert would burn in hell, and it was hard to disagree. Then again, I was almost thankful for Norbert for answering the door in my place. I’m not sure if dealing with them or being kidnapped would be worse.

To my surprise, Norbert opened the door again. “Get out of here! Do you understand me? You’re not welcome.”

At first I was confused, but I figured that Norbert probably expected them to stick around unless he stopped them. I tried my best to shake the chair and make some noise, but it was no good. I fell to the side and felt a sharp pain shoot through my chest as I landed heavily, but it hadn’t made nearly as much noise as I’d hoped. Worse still, it was even harder to try to escape my bonds now that I was on the floor.

As Norbert argued with the men, I tried to remove my makeshift gag. I rubbed my face against the floor and did my best to spit it out, but it didn’t so much as budge. For a sickening moment, I wondered if Norbert had tied somebody up like this before. He was certainly good at it.

The floor all but shook as Norbert yelled expletives that would make anyone blush. While I heard the strangers yelling back about holy vengeance and divine justice, their voices were getting softer. I realized they were leaving, and the door slammed again. I closed my eyes and tried to hold back tears as I heard Norbert returning.

One of the men called out a passing shot. “There will be a sign from above that you’re going straight to hell!
Then
you will believe!”

I cringed. Norbert’s face was one of fury, mixed with something that looked like fear. I wondered if he really was worried that he was headed for eternal damnation, given what Violet had told me about his childhood. I had just managed to spit the tissues out of my mouth, which was quite a feat.

I had completely forgotten about my mother, until now.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the coffin shake. I looked at Norbert, to see that his face had gone pale. My mother rose slowly out of the coffin, one hand outstretched. Before her head had completely cleared the edge, she pointed to where I had been standing, which was where the unfortunate Norbert was now standing.

“You shall burn in hell!” she screamed. “You shall suffer eternal damnation for your sins! There is no escape!”

Norbert backed away in terror. My mother must have been blind with rage—literally—because she continued to scream about eternal damnation and continued to point at Norbert. He stumbled backward, and then fell hard into a row of seats.

Just then, the door burst open, and both detectives, followed by Duncan, Bryan, and other uniformed officers rushed into the room, their guns drawn. The detectives extricated Norbert from where he had fallen amongst the chairs. He didn’t resist; he just kept looking over his shoulder at my mother who was sitting up in the coffin, still pointing, and with a blank look on her face.

Duncan ran to me and untied me. “Are you hurt, Laurel? Do you need medical help?”

“No,” I said, as I struggled to my feet, “but I think my mother might.”

Duncan looked at the coffin and then back at me. “What’s your mother doing in the coffin?”

I shrugged. “You’d have to ask her that.” I certainly hoped that he wouldn’t.

Some of the police officers escorted Mom from the room, presumably so she could get medical help. I hoped that would take a very long time, because I knew without a doubt that I was in for it when she came to her senses. I would have to keep the funeral home door locked from now on, even when I was working in there throughout the day.

“How did you know it was Norbert?” I asked Duncan.

Duncan shrugged. “Not a clue. You’d have to ask the detectives.”

Detective Brand came over, right on cue. “That woman, Violet Pendleberry, called us. She said she realized that Norbert was the one who had killed Lewis. She also now suspects him of killing her husband.”

“Her husband,” I repeated, but Detective Brand must have thought I knew nothing about that matter.

“Yes,” he said. “Her husband had an accident, and she inherited the money. There was an inquiry at the time but there was no evidence against her. Now the investigation will be reopened, and Norbert will be looked into this time.”

“But why would Norbert kill Lewis?” I asked him. “What was his motive?”

“Violet was a millionaire, and she and Norbert were planning to get married a year ago, but then she started dating Lewis, and then broke up with Norbert. She was about to break up with Lewis and marry Norbert after all, when Lewis told her that if she’d marry him, she would inherit everything. Apparently that was the last straw for Norbert.” Brand rubbed his chin. “Norbert and Violet had a fight, and he told her he’d killed Lewis for her.’

“He admitted it?” I was shocked.

Detective Brand nodded. “And apparently he thought that Violet wouldn’t mind. Between you and me, she’s a piece of work, but apparently she draws the line at murder.”

My head was spinning. This was worse than one of those
Housewives
episodes. Still, it looked like it was a happy ending after all—apart from Lewis, of course. “Is Basil okay?” I asked Brand.

The detective looked slightly embarrassed and shifted from one foot to the other. “Yes, he’s been released.” And with that, he hurried away.

“Laurel, how do you get yourself into those scrapes?” Duncan asked me.

“Not you, too.” I shook my finger at him. “My mother’s going to rant and rave at me as it is.”

Chapter 20

I
took a long, slow sip of my coffee and sighed deeply. It was finally over. I hadn’t been able to enjoy a coffee—really enjoy one—like this for as long as I could remember. This whole sequence of events had been one long nightmare, and I felt as though I’d finally woken up. I took a moment to wonder if perhaps my excess consumption of coffee had made me more on edge during the whole ordeal, but laughed it off as I started my fifth for the day, popping the pod inside the Nespresso machine and turning it on.

I thought about how much I loved the sound of the coffee machine. It wasn’t a nice sound, as such. Actually, it was quite the opposite. It made a monstrously loud roar, accompanied by a kind of harsh grinding whirr. Despite that, I loved it dearly. Just hearing it made me think just how much I delighted in the smell and taste of coffee. The machine clicked off and I poured the coffee into my usual cup. The poor thing was deeply, irreversibly stained, and with a grin, I imagined the horror any poor guest would feel if I were to offer them a drink in it. Not that I would, of course, as it was my favorite mug. Even Basil didn’t have those kinds of privileges. Not yet, anyway.

I jumped as a loud knock came from the door. I got up and hurried to the door. As I opened it, I saw what I’d hoped to see. Basil was standing there, smiling broadly.

“Hello, Laurel,” he said, as he hugged me tightly.

I smiled and hugged him back. “Come in! Do you want coffee?” I asked when we detached from each other.

Basil laughed. “I can tell you’ve had some already. Sure, I’ll have one.” He stepped inside and I closed the door behind him.

We sat and talked for several minutes, about anything and everything, really. Miscellany was the subject of the day, and we happily wasted time talking about what amounted to nothing at all, until Basil finally bit the bullet and brought it up.

“I can’t believe it was Norbert,” he said with a sigh before continuing. “I know he wasn’t the least likely suspect, but it bothers me all the same.” I frowned, but Basil spoke again before I could interject. “What’s worse is that I couldn’t help you when he was here.”

I laughed. “You could hardly help that, Basil. After all, you’d been arrested. I don’t blame you at all.” I smiled reassuringly.

“I know, I know,” he replied. “But it upsets me all the same. I won’t let that happen again.”

“Well, that’s easy. Just don’t get accused of murder from here on,” I teased.

Basil laughed. “All right, that’s a deal.” He spoke again after a brief pause. “Can you imagine it? Somebody killing somebody in cold blood like that. It’s insane.”

“It’s probably a good sign that we can’t empathize.” I smiled. “I know what you mean, though. If it’s all the same, I don’t want to talk about it any more. Norbert’s never going to be my problem again.” I took another long drink of my coffee and set it down, satisfied.

“I know you don’t blame me, Laurel, but can I make you dinner tonight? In my house, just the two of us?”

I smiled broadly. “That would be lovely.” We continued to talk, thoroughly avoiding the subject of Norbert, and Lewis’s murder.

Lewis hadn’t appeared again. He’d moved on, and while I wasn’t exactly his biggest fan, I found myself sort of missing him in a weird way. Maybe ‘missing’ wasn’t the right word. I appreciated that he wasn’t here to make creepy remarks, but it was a strange feeling, almost as if he’d died again. This wasn’t the case, though, and I knew it. Moving on was peaceful, and ghosts had always seemed more than happy to do so once they could. Plus, there’s no way I could have enjoyed a moment alone with Basil like this if Lewis was still around.

Not that Ernie was going anywhere, of course, but he wasn’t here at this very moment, and I was enjoying it immensely.

“Are you all right?” Basil asked, raising an eyebrow.

I looked up at him. “I’m great. Just thinking, is all.”

“That’s a bad habit,” he said with a smile. “Try not to do it too much.”

I laughed and nodded. “I’m definitely happier when I don’t think. Maybe you’re on to something.” I went to start another coffee and hesitated. Was six too many? After a few moments of consideration I realized that I must be going mad. Of course, six was nowhere near too many. I put a fresh pod inside and started up the machine. There was that sound again.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, Laurel, but do you think it’s really over?” Basil asked.

I turned and raised an eyebrow at him. “Of course I do. Norbert’s been arrested, and Lewis himself accused him of being the killer. Norbert even confessed! Why do you ask?”

Basil seemed a bit put out. “I just have a feeling something bad is going to happen, I suppose. Lewis wasn’t always level-headed, and I wouldn’t put it past him to accuse the wrong person based on a whim or emotional reaction. What if it was Violet?”

“Violet? The same Violet who got the police and saved me?” I asked. Basil smiled in response, and I continued. “Besides, the police have found plenty of evidence on Norbert since his arrest, and it’s hard to believe an innocent man would tie me to a chair and interrogate me about the crime. Anyway, Norbert confessed,” I said once more.

“You’re right, of course.” Basil admitted. “I just feel unsettled and can’t put my finger on it. I’m just nervous somehow. I have a sense of foreboding as if something horrible is headed this way.” He shrugged.

I chuckled. “Well, your friend was murdered and you were blamed for it. I’d be more worried about you if you weren’t upset about the whole ordeal.”

“That’s a good point. Maybe it’s all my imagination.”

Basil was interrupted by another knock at the door. I closed my eyes and sighed. It wasn’t necessarily the best state of affairs, but the only time I ever liked having guests was when it was Basil, and since he was here already, I knew I didn’t want to open the door. To be honest, my entire encounter with Norbert had also left me quite shaken, and while I wasn’t afraid as such, I’d noticed I was hesitating that little bit longer before opening the door or going anywhere alone.

I composed myself and headed to the door, glancing at Basil along the way. He looked back and smiled reassuringly. I took a deep breath and grabbed the handle of the door. Before I opened it, I heard a voice that scared me to my core.

“Laurel! I know you’re in there!”

My heart sank. I felt a cold chill rise up throughout my entire body. I felt as though I would pass out. I released the handle and took a step backward, being careful not to make any noise. I had to be as quiet as possible.

Basil silently crossed to the door and met my gaze. We were both wide-eyed, and I could tell he was every bit as worried as I was.

“Don’t make me break this door down!”

The door knob wiggled violently as a body’s weight slammed against it, and for a moment I feared the frame would give way. Thankfully it held, and I felt a sigh of relief leave me as I glanced at Basil. He’d also calmed down somewhat, but was clearly still very much on edge.

After she’d seen me using an Ouija board, there was no way I was going to open the door to my mother.

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About Morgana Best

#1 Best-selling Cozy Mystery author, Morgana Best, lives in a small, historic, former gold mining town in the middle of nowhere in Australia. She is owned by one highly demanding, rescued cat who is half Chinchilla, and two less demanding dogs, a chocolate Labrador and a rescued Dingo, as well as two rescued Dorper sheep, the ram, Herbert, and his wether friend, Bertie.

Morgana is a former college professor who now writes full time. In her spare time, Morgana loves to read paranormal cozy mysteries, repurpose furniture, and renovate her old house. She is vegan.

Note from the Author

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