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

Chapter 5

Janet ran over to me. I hadn’t seen her that animated since… No, I had never seen her that animated.

She threw her hands in the air. “Have you heard the great news?”

“There is good news?” I asked her. “But how could there be good news when a man has just been killed, splattered all over Mom’s roof?” When I saw Lewis grimace, I realized that it wasn’t such a tactful thing to say.

“That’s just it!” she exclaimed gleefully. “One of the nice men from forensics just told me that the body isn’t splattered at all. Isn’t that the best thing ever!”

I was at a loss for words. “Um, yes,” was all I could manage.

“There could even be an open viewing!” She rubbed her hands together with delight.

I noticed that Lewis had gone somewhat white, and it was a revelation to me that ghosts could turn white.

“That’s a surprise,” I said. “I would’ve thought that he would’ve been in a not very good state.” My words weren’t entirely grammatical, but I was still reeling from the shock.

“The forensics man said that the fastest Lewis could have been traveling would have been about one hundred and eighty five miles an hour, but given that Lewis was an experienced skydiver, he would have been going a lot slower than that. I mean, he would’ve been trying to slow himself down, so he would’ve been in a position to make himself fall much slower.”

Lewis stepped forward. “Yes, that’s exactly what I did,” he said. “And I was looking for some bushes or some muddy ground. I was actually aiming for those bushes over there, but I didn’t make it that far.”

I looked past him to see that he was pointing at a row of Alder trees at the edge of the sheep’s paddock. “But wouldn’t landing in trees be just as dangerous as landing on the roof?” I asked him.

Janet shook her head. “The forensics man said that there have been several of cases of people who have survived their parachutes not opening. If someone’s chute doesn’t open and they land in trees, they will likely break all their bones and be in a bad state, but they won’t necessarily die. It’s much better than landing on the ground, and landing in water is a terrible mistake because water’s like concrete to land on.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that about water,” I said.

Lewis was muttering to himself. “If only I’d jumped out a little bit later, and then I might have made those trees.”

“I wonder why he jumped out when he did?” I asked Janet, although I was actually addressing the question to Lewis.

“I just wanted to jump first,” Lewis said. “I didn’t know that someone had tried to murder me. Oh well, he or she actually
did
murder me.” He sighed loudly.

“What, murder?”

Janet looked at me strangely. “What makes you think it was murder?”

I thought fast. “Well, he was an experienced skydiver. And it didn’t look to me as if either chute had opened.”

Before I could stop her, Janet turned. “I’ll go and ask the detectives,” she called over her shoulder.

I looked around, but no one was looking at me. “So they did something to your chute? Packed it wrongly?”

Lewis nodded. “Yes, it was a total malfunction. The risers were cut. I’m sure forensics will soon find that out. My parachute was sabotaged; that’s for sure.”

“What are risers?”

“They’re the fabric connectors between the harness and the lines. I would guess that the risers for both my main chute and my reserve chute were cut.”

Janet was speaking to one of the detectives, and he was looking my way. If only she didn’t have such a big mouth. I put my hands over my face and pretended to scratch my forehead so I could ask Lewis one more question. “Is that the only reason you can think of that both your parachutes wouldn’t have opened?”

“Yes,” Lewis said. “And I hold an FAA Master Parachute Rigger certificate. I’m an expert on the subject, if I do say so myself.” He laughed.

The detective walked over to me. Janet made to follow him, but he sent her back. “So,” he said sternly, “your cosmetician tells me that you said it was murder.” His tone was somewhat accusing.

“It was a guess,” I lied. I could hardly tell him that the victim himself had told me that it was murder. “We saw him falling, and it didn’t look like his parachute had opened. I know they have a reserve chute, but it didn’t look like either of them had opened. He told me he was an experienced skydiver, so I figured it had to be murder.”

I was worried that the detective knew I was lying. I supposed they had a sixth sense about such things. His eyes narrowed and he looked at me for a while, before speaking again. “And is that the only reason you said that?”

I nodded.

“And how long have you known Basil Sandalwood?”

“Basil?” I echoed. “I only met him when I moved back here from Melbourne, when my father died and left me the funeral home. He was my father’s accountant, and Basil’s father, who has now passed away, was my father’s accountant for years. Basil is my accountant now.”

The cop raised one eyebrow. “
Just
your accountant?”

Luckily for me, the other detective called him away before I had to answer. I saw that the forensics people were bringing down the body from the roof. I watched while they lowered the body. It took four of them, but soon they had the body on a gurney and were wheeling it to a van.

Janet hurried back over to me. “I overheard them say that they’re going to see if there are risers stuck to the body. I don’t know what that means. I’ve never been stupid enough to jump out of a perfectly good plane.”

“You and me both,” I said. “I couldn’t ever be that brave.”

The forensics people drove away, and Duncan walked over to me. “The detectives have asked that you and the others go to the house now for questioning.”

I looked up to see Mom, Ian, John, and Janet already making their way over to Mom’s house. “Are we allowed in Mom’s house now?”

“Yes.”

I could see that Duncan looked uncomfortable. “What aren’t you telling me, Duncan?”

Duncan shifted from one foot to another. “Well, I suppose I should tell you, Laurel, but try not to worry. Basil is the only suspect they have at the moment.”

“Basil?” I said. “Why on earth would they suspect Basil? What motive would he have?”

Duncan shrugged. “Like I said, try not to worry. Hopefully they’ll get some results from the DNA testing of the parachute. It’s just that Basil was the most likely one.” He held up his hand at that point. “I’m not saying
I
think he was the most likely one, but that’s how the detectives will see it. He was an experienced parachutist, too, and someone had tampered with the parachute.”

“But surely anyone had the opportunity to tamper with Lewis’s parachute?” I asked him. “I mean, I suppose they can’t check it once it’s packed, right? If he packed it himself, then whoever did it would’ve had plenty of time to tamper with it.” My head was spinning, and I wasn’t sure if my words made sense. They probably hadn’t, because Duncan made no attempt to respond, but simply shrugged and walked toward Mom’s house. I followed him.

When I got there, I found the others in Mom’s living room. Mom was on the phone to what sounded like her insurance company, and soon Ian appeared wearing a frilly pink apron and carrying a tray of coffee. He handed everyone a cup of coffee and a religious tract.

“Ian, do you really think that’s appropriate?” I said as I took the coffee and refused the religious tract.

“We can’t miss any opportunity to save the lost,” Ian said. “I’m sure that poor man Lewis is burning in hell right as we speak.”

“I am not!” Lewis yelled loudly. He was right up in Ian’s face, but of course, I was the only one who could see or hear him.

The detectives, who had refused the coffee as well as the religious tract, announced that they would question each one of us in turn.

Detective Swan took me into the kitchen. “Do you live here?” he asked me after I had given him my name, address, and date of birth.

“No, I just moved out of Mom’s house yesterday. I’m now living in the apartment over the funeral home. I own that building and the business, and Mom owns this house.” I waved my hand in the direction of the funeral home.

“Why did you move out of your mother’s house?” he asked me.

“My father died recently, and left this house and money to Mom, and the funeral home and the business to me. There’s an apartment over it that I’m renovating.”

“And the renovations were finished yesterday?” The officer shot me a penetrating look.

“No, not exactly. I just had a big argument with my mother.”

The detective was still scribbling away furiously on his notepad. He looked up at me. “What was the argument about?”

I shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t an argument, as such. It’s just that she and I don’t get along.”
You’ll soon see for yourself what she’s like
, I added silently.

He nodded. “Tell me, in your own words, what you saw.”

I wondered who else’s words I would use, but I described the scene anyway. “Ian pointed to the plane, and we saw a black speck falling from the sky after that. I realized it must be a skydiver, and the parachute didn’t open. It kept falling and falling, and then it hit Mom’s roof.”

“And what happened then?”

“Janet called the police, and the rest of us were just in shock.”

“And Janet wasn’t in shock?”

I tapped my chin. “Janet isn’t like other people, socially speaking. She says whatever she thinks. She really doesn’t have a social filter.”

“I see.”

I doubted that he did see, but I didn’t want Janet’s tactlessness to make her a murder suspect. It was bad enough that Basil was already a suspect.

“All right, thank you, Ms. Bay. You can go now. Please send in John Jones.”

I did as I was told. I wanted to know what was going on with Basil, but I could hardly ask the detectives. After all, if I showed any interest in him, the detectives might think I was his accomplice.

My mother’s shrill voice snapped me out of my musings. “It’s a circus!” she yelled.

I crossed to the window to see what she was looking at. There were media cars parked outside her house, and people with microphones and cameras were standing in front of them.

“Oh, it’s a
media
circus!” Ian said. “What should we do, Thelma?”

“Why don’t you go and tell them that they’re trespassing, and ask them to leave?” I said.

“Don’t be so stupid, Laurel!” my mother snapped at me.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Whatever!”

“She’s not very nice, is she?” Lewis said.

I nodded and walked out of the front door. The media ran over to me, and a woman shoved a microphone in front of my face. “Were you a witness to the shocking incident?” she asked dramatically.

“No,” I said. “I just arrived to console my mother.” I pointed to the house, where Mom was peering through the curtains. “The detectives are questioning all the witnesses now, and they told me to go away because I don’t know anything.”

To my relief, my words must have been convincing, because the media promptly lost interest in me. I hurried to the funeral home, and then to my apartment.

In the safety of my apartment, I looked at the walls and the room I was using as my bedroom. Only hours earlier, I had thought my worst worry in the world was that I would need to do more coats of paint. A friend of mine once said that things can turn on a dime, and he was right.

Chapter 6

Despite the unfinished state of my apartment, I actually found myself enjoying it. I was away from my mother, which was the initial goal, but I was also enjoying the privacy in general.

I wondered if it was, in fact, murder, or simply an accident. Lewis did strike me as the type to make bad decisions, but I doubted he would be careless with his own life.

I sighed and decided to make a light lunch with what I had on hand. It wasn’t anything exciting, just a basic sandwich, but it was nice to have the freedom to make lunch without somebody telling me that it was the food of the devil, or something like that.

I’d just finished lunch when the bell at the front door rang. My heart skipped a beat and I ran down the stairs as quickly as I could. As I’d hoped, it was Basil. He smiled at me, but there was a definite hint of sadness to it. I realized that even if he hadn’t liked the new Lewis, it surely must have been an awful experience, especially when he was the primary suspect in his murder case.

“Hi Laurel.” Basil looked like he was struggling to maintain his smile as he spoke.

“Basil!” I exclaimed excitedly in spite of myself. “Come in.” I ushered him through the door and closed it behind me. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Oh, yes. Please.” His smile seemed more genuine. I thought that perhaps he was worried about seeing me again after our last encounter. He’d come across as if he didn’t consider us a couple. Still, that was the least of our problems now. We walked to the funeral home kitchen and I started the coffee machine.

“How are you, Basil?” I asked, trying to mask the amount of concern in my voice. I couldn’t imagine how hard these last few days must have been for him.

“I’m not great, to be honest.” He sighed. “I’m the primary suspect, and for good reason. I was the only other person up there, except the pilot, of course – but he was obviously a little bit too busy flying the plane to…” He swallowed. “To kill Lewis. I’ve been in questioning, and it’s been awful. Obviously, they haven’t hurt me or anything, but they’ve tried everything they can that’s legal. It’s been painful, but at least they’ve let me go for now. There just wasn’t enough evidence to convict me, I suppose.”

“That’s shocking,” I exclaimed. I just wanted to hug him, but restrained myself.

“I’ll be off the hook if they find some DNA in the parachute,” Basil continued.

“DNA? But there wasn’t any blood or anything.”

“They explained it to me,” Basil said. “It’s called Touch DNA. They only need about eight skin cells. They’ve taken my DNA and if they find someone else’s DNA inside the chute and not mine, that will discount me as a suspect.”

“Well I sure hope whoever it was wasn’t wearing gloves when they did it,” I said.

“It would have to be quite a stupid person not to, sadly.” Basil looked upset.

I had to agree. I thought it was highly likely that whoever murdered Lewis had worn gloves when they sabotaged his parachute.

I smiled at him warmly, trying to raise his spirits. I figured coffee would do him good—coffee is good for anything—and poured him a cup as soon as it was ready. I knew it was upsetting him and that he was sick of talking about it, but I needed to know more about what happened to Lewis.

“Do you have any idea what happened?” I asked.

Basil considered for a moment before answering. “Not entirely, no, though I know Lewis jumped out earlier than he should have. He wanted to show off, I think. You probably noticed that he was more than a little competitive.” He raised an eyebrow at me and I stifled a laugh.

“More than a little, yes,” I replied, thinking back to when I’d met him.

“Well, I think that’s why he jumped early. He hadn’t seemed nervous or upset about anything. Honestly, though, he
was
a very skilled skydiver. He wasn’t lying about that. Though I’m the better accountant.” Basil shot me a genuine smile as he said it, but there was still a very real sadness in his eyes. I hadn’t liked Lewis much, but he certainly didn’t deserve what happened. I wasn’t sure that anybody did.

Basil rested his head in his palms. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t prove that it wasn’t me, and I obviously don’t have an alibi since I was with him in the plane. I…” The bell rang before Basil could finish, and he looked up at me.

I sighed. “I’ll be back in a second.” I was in the middle of a tender and important moment, which meant the visitor could only be one person.

“Hi, Mom.” I said, forcing a smile as I opened the door. “Hello, Ian.”

“Hello, Laurel,” they quite creepily said in unison. “Are you inviting us in for a coffee?” my mother asked.

No
, I thought,
but you’ve invited yourself anyway
. Aloud, I said, “Sure, come in. Basil is here at the moment, and I’ve just run the machine through, so your coffee should be quicker than usual.”

“Hello, Thelma, Ian,” Basil said as we all entered the room. His tone had become considerably harsher, and it was clear that he didn’t like either of them. It was no wonder. They hadn’t exactly given him a reason to be friendly. Still, I liked to avoid drama where I could, so I tried to defuse the tension a bit.

“Would you like coffee as well, Ian?” I asked, desperate to start a conversation of some kind. I detested awkward silences, but I was certain there’d be many to come if I couldn’t keep the conversation flowing.

“Yes, thank you.” Ian sat down.

“How are you doing, Basil?” Mom asked him, sounding genuinely concerned.

“I’m okay, thank you, Thelma. Though I think I might still be in shock.” He took a long drink of his coffee after he spoke, seemingly to avoid further conversation on the topic.

“If you don’t mind my saying so,” Mom said, “it seems clear that God has taken Lewis before his time because he was too pure for our corrupt world. He’s gone to a much better place.”

Somehow, Mom’s wise words didn’t seem to put Basil at ease.

We sat and spoke for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only an hour. Basil was very civil, but it was easy to see that he was restless and upset—easy for me, at least, but apparently not for Ian or my mother. They continued to prod him with questions about Lewis and the case before imparting their wisdom regarding God’s plan for the world. Basil managed to sit through the whole thing without so much as flipping the table, though I’m not sure I could have done the same had our positions been reversed.

“Well, we’d better get going,” Mom said as she stood up.

I wanted to say, “It’s a miracle!” but somehow restrained myself. Basil and I said our goodbyes to Ian and Mom, and went back to the kitchen, where I made us each another coffee.

“Sorry I don’t have a stronger drink,” I said, and Basil responded with laughter, despite it not being a joke.

“I’m glad they’re gone,” Lewis announced.

I very nearly spilled my coffee as Basil and I jumped out of our seats. “How long have you been here?” I asked angrily.

“Longer than I’d like.” Lewis shot me his trademark creepy smile and walked over to the table. “She wouldn’t shut up about God’s grand plan, would she? Not everybody loves me, but I’m not sure God had a reason to assassinate me.”

I sighed dramatically, but it occurred to me to ask. “Do you know who
would
have a reason to assassinate you?”

Lewis considered for a moment before replying. “As a matter of fact, yes, I think I do. I mean, I’m an auditor, right? And I’m a real good one.” Lewis took a moment to flash us a smile before he continued. “Or
was
, rather.” His smile vanished, but he continued. “I was auditing one of the largest accounting firms in Australia,
It’s Accrual World
.” He paused for dramatic effect, but I had no idea what was going on. Lewis seemed rather put out. “It’s a funny name, right?” he asked.

“I don’t get it,” I admitted.

“I know the company and I do get the joke, only it just isn’t funny,” Basil said dryly. “It’s a play on the words
accrue
and
cruel
.”

I still didn’t get it, but I forced a smile. He went on to explain what
accrue
meant, but I stared into the distance and wondered where my next chocolate fix was coming from.

Lewis frowned. “Fair enough, I suppose. Laurel,
It’s Accrual World
is one of Australia’s biggest firms. The name is much funnier if you’re into accounting. Probably. Anyway, I’ll get to the point.” He took a deep breath—something I wasn’t sure ghosts needed to do—before continuing. “I was auditing the company, as I mentioned, when I found evidence of embezzlement. Somebody was embezzling huge amounts of money, and I do mean
huge
amounts, from the company’s trust fund. I called the head of the firm to tell him about it the night before I went skydiving.” Lewis took on a much more serious tone when he mentioned the head of the firm, and it was the first time I’d seen him behave seriously.

“In hindsight, I shouldn’t reveal massive fraud before participating in dangerous activities, but hindsight is fifty-fifty, as they say,” Lewis joked, and I realized he was, for better or worse, back to his usual self.

“Do you really think he’s responsible for your death?” Basil asked.

Lewis considered for a moment. “I can’t say for certain, of course, but it seems likely. I know you didn’t do it, Basil, because I’m much too smart for you to kill me.” He smiled directly at Basil as he teased him. “But also because you really had no motive, outside of Laurel clearly falling for me.” He winked at me when he spoke, and I found it a lot less amusing than he did. “I also can’t think of anybody else with means and motive. This guy could’ve paid to have me killed thirty times over and gotten away with it. He was seriously rich even before he’d stolen a ridiculous amount of money.”

I mulled it over. This man didn’t sound like the sort of person I would want as an enemy, but I supposed that I didn’t really want anybody as an enemy. We all talked for several more minutes, but it seemed as though the clues had dried up. We would need to do some investigating of our own to get to the bottom of Lewis’s murder. I was worried that Basil was still Number One Suspect in the eyes of the police.