The Gallery of the Dead (Tropical Breeze Cozy Mystery Book 3) (15 page)

“And now I gotta fly.” She looked at her watch and grabbed the check from DeAnn, who knew exactly how to time Rocky’s meals. The woman hardly chews her food at all. “Nice to see y’all. You’re a sneaky one, Ed. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you got more information out of me than I got out of you. Good to see you, Bernie.”

She left.

When she was out the door, Bernie said, “The famous spill in The Violet Room happened when Jane was startled. Misty said she looked in the mirror and saw somebody standing behind her. Do you think it was Violet? If so, and she knew what kind of a nut-job Jane was, she probably wanted her out of her room.”

I didn’t know what to think and said so. “I don’t like to speculate. Some people are supposed to be psychic about ghosts; I never thought about ghosts being psychic about us. Interesting, but I try to discipline myself about that kind of thinking. I’ve seen a few of my colleagues become unhinged over such things.”

I packed up my gear and paid the check. I can’t get used to taking a lady out for a meal and then letting her pay. Bernie didn’t put up a fuss about it.

“Everything I’ve told you is off the record,” I warned her as I dropped her off at home again.

“Naturally. A man’s life may depend on it.”

“I’m glad you understand that. You can’t even tell your friend Kyle, even though he is the County Sheriff.
Especially
because he’s the Sheriff.”

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t put Kyle in a position like that.”

“Good. See you, Bernie.”

She held me back a moment by putting her hand on my arm. “Be careful, Ed.”

“I will.”

At that point, I didn’t think there was any concrete reason for me to go to the Tropical Breeze Historical Society, but I went anyway. I don’t know why, but I always want to look into the faces of the subjects I study. If they lived in ancient times, I’m frustrated at the crude paintings, tapestries and stained glass representations of them. I want to see their eyes. I want to see their expressions. If there are actual photographs, I keep referring to them as I read, taking in information in the text, then trying to read the same thing in their faces.

The Society’s museum was empty when I went in; Vivian Dear, that perpetual volunteer, was acting as docent (sitting behind a desk and reading a romance novel), and I told her what I wanted.

The family portrait of the Whitbys was elaborately framed and hanging on a wall in a room full of mahogany furniture, old albums and other photographs of founding families.

I gazed silently at the pretty girl in the light-colored dress. Her hair had been gathered away from her face into a soft mound, and she was standing beside her stern-looking father. Her right hand rested on the shoulder of her mother, who was seated. Her left hand was resting inside her father’s elbow. Ephraim stood beside her as if unaware of either woman. In fact, they all gazed at the camera with blank faces, stiff and formal. Only Henriette’s face looked pleasant.

I stood before the portrait studying it for a moment, then lowered my head.

“I know,” Vivian said quietly. “It makes you sad, doesn’t it?”

“She could have had any boy she wanted,” I said, looking again at the delicate features.

“They always want the bad boys, though.”

She patted my arm.

“I’ll just leave you to look around. Take your time, Ed.”

But I was done. I asked her permission to use my camera, and she just said, “No flash.”

“Naturally.”

I took the shot, and later I would print it out for the file, but only for the sake of completeness. I had looked into their eyes long enough.

Teddy called me as I was driving home.

“Are you in your car?” he asked. “You should have been home hours ago.”

“I . . . had a date.” It was true. I took Bernie to the diner.

“Yeah, right. You were in town, weren’t you?”

“That’s where my date lives.”

“Oh, please. Listen, are you anywhere near Cadbury House now?”

“No,” I lied. “I’m nearly home.”

“Damn. Taylor’s busy with the crowd for dinner and she wants me to get the pizzas from the delivery boy.”

“So?”

“It’s a perfect opportunity for Jane,” he snapped.

“Oh, yes, Jane. By now she may have a job delivering pizzas, is that what you’re thinking? Well, have one of the others get the pizzas. How about Elliott? You’re the boss, Teddy. Order people around.”

There was a long pause. I braced myself for a further theory about poisoned pizzas, but he hadn’t gotten to that point yet.

“It would be better if you were here,” he said instead.

“Why?”

“Because I trust your instincts,” he finally admitted. “Anybody else is going to be more interested in the pizzas than the delivery girl.”

“A minute ago it was a delivery boy.”

“Jane could dress up like a delivery boy. She’s got the wardrobe for it,” he added nastily.

“Have Elliott accept delivery of the pizzas,” I told him, and ended the call.

I had the feeling that even if Jane was caught in the next couple of days, it was going to be a long couple of days.

From the diary of Taylor Verone

I guess the first confirmation of Ed’s theory of the murder came from Porter. Maybe Teddy’s right, much as it pains me to admit it. Porter may actually be psychic.

I like Ed. He’s worked for me a couple of times, and I
still
like him. But when he first told me about his theory of the murder, it sounded just a bit too complicated to be true. Still, as I say, I like him, and I let him finish his improbable story, complete with sound effects and gestures, nodded my head and decided to mull it all over later. Before I got the chance, Porter weighed in, and I was convinced.

It happened like this:

I changed my mind about using Teddy at the mystery dinner. My knee-jerk reaction had been to keep him the heck out of the way, because everything I’ve seen Teddy do is out of control. His idea to have Carmilla creep up on my customers confirmed my gut instinct: the guy has no sense of proportion. But it was inevitable that my customers would find out that Teddy Force had been on the property while they were there, and they might feel cheated if he didn’t make an appearance.

What the heck, he was a celebrity, and I fully intended to use him without paying him any kind of a fee whatsoever. After taking a vote from my volunteer storytellers, I realized it would be a treat for everybody, including Teddy, who had been looking sort of hunted. His killer groupie was still on the run.

And as long as I was having Teddy make an appearance, and the dinners were meant to benefit the shelter, I decided to bring in Porter. We were boarding him anyway; he was right across the yard in the barn. We could promote the new ghost show at the same time. If Porter got out of control, he would go right back to the barn.

Teddy’s first reaction shocked me. He declined. It wasn’t until it hit me that he suspected Jane might be posing as one of my customers that I understood.

“Teddy, these dinners are reservation-only, and the people coming tonight booked in over a month ago. Jane could not possibly have foreseen that you would be here for tonight’s dinner. And from what Ed told me, they think Jane was homeless before she got the job at The Royal Palm: she couldn’t afford it. She’s not one of my customers. Snap out of it. Otherwise,” I added obscurely, “she wins.”

“All right,” he said, “but I’m bringing Porter.”

“I already took care of that.” Porter would no more defend Teddy’s life against a marauding wacko than he would sit down and roll over on command. He’d figure it was a game and want to play. But I didn’t share that with Teddy.

“And Ed. I want Ed there. And Carmilla and Jinx. Let them see the whole team.”

“Teddy, I can stretch one extra dinner for you, but you can’t bring the whole gang. We don’t have enough food. Besides, Ed isn’t here.”

“I can call him.”

“Leave him alone. He’d hate it. Why don’t we handle it this way: you sit in with the guests, and the others get introduced, then go back to their pizzas. And Porter can stay, if he makes you feel safer, but if he starts begging at the table he has to go back to the kennel. I’ll call you down when everybody’s seated, and you can make your appearance then.”

“Along with the team.”

“Along with the team. Then the rest of them go away, agreed?”

“You’ll screen people carefully as they come in, right? And you’ve screened your volunteers, right?”

“Teddy, these people have been volunteering at the shelter for years. And yes, I’ll give the guests the once-over as they come in. Satisfied?”

We shook hands on it.

It went beautifully. The diners were thrilled, and most of them knew who Teddy was. The ones who didn’t were just as taken with him. He does have the kind of natural presence that can command a room. He’s just
somebody.

The ghost squad made a real showbiz entrance and struck a group pose, looking like superheroes. Teddy and Jinx were in their official jumpsuits, and Carmilla was in her trademark costume. We brought them in just after drinks were served, and suddenly –
bam!
– there they were: Teddy , tall, handsome and macho, Porter straining at the leash, Jinx looking wiry and fun, and Carmilla glowering around with baleful eyes. I looked around the table at the customers, who were frozen in place and staring with their mouths open, and I nearly clapped my hands like a little child.

It was a sensation. When Teddy prepared to speak, a thrill went around the table. When he was “on,” you couldn’t look anywhere else. His showmanship was brilliant, but I noticed him carefully studying each member of the group, wondering if Jane was among them. A good public speaker tries to connect with audience members with his eyes, but this was something deeper. I could see it the moment he relaxed and decided she wasn’t there.

“People, we are haunted,” he began with authority. “If you haven’t experienced the paranormal, you will. This is my new team. Carmilla! Hunter of demons.” She went into lazer-beam mode and swept the room. “Jinx! Ghost ninja.” He made an impossible back-flip, barely disturbing the air around him. Teddy lowered his voice modestly. “And many of you know me. I’m Teddy Force. I hunt ghosts.”

Wild applause. I wondered how many of the dinner guests actually knew who he was, but at that moment, they didn’t care. He was
somebody
. They could feel it.

He had them where he wanted them, and it almost didn’t matter what he said next, he was that good.

“Friends, we are dedicated to solving the mysteries, to putting the evil dead to rest, to exploring the unknown. Will you come with us while we go on the attack? Will you be part of the team on our new show,
Haunt or Hoax? Featuring Porter the Ghost-Sniffing Dog?”

Porter, hearing his name, lunged and barked on cue.

Pretty good, I thought. Teddy probably hadn’t even prepared anything. He just hit his spot and the words came out.

“Guests of Cadbury House,” I said, “we are honored to be joined tonight at dinner by that famous paranormal investigator and television star, Teddy Force.”

Thunderous applause and cries of delight.

“Teddy?” I said, pulling out a chair, making the two ladies who’d be adjacent to him nearly collapse with joy. “Will you honor us at the head of the table?”

About that time, our perfect production began to go sideways, and naturally, it was because of Porter. He attacked Carmilla’s boot.

Porter likes leather. Belts, boots, purses, you name it, and what little clothing Carmilla had on was mostly black leather. I had a panicky moment thinking about what item of her wardrobe Porter might go after next. This was a family event, after all.

Carmilla was kicking at the dog, and snarling more ferociously than Porter was. I tried to keep a smile on my face, but if she gave Porter a boot in the face, I was tackling her. I know, I know, that would have just made things worse, but I have these instincts.

Fortunately, Teddy had Porter on a thick leash and managed to control him, and the guests thought it was part of the show. They applauded, which caught Porter’s attention and made him forget about the boot and want to go play with them.

Jinx made an amusing dance move that had everybody laughing, and with exquisite timing he took Carmilla by the waist, bowed (forcing her to bow too), and strutted out of the room with her.

Teddy and I shared a relieved look. He came to the head of the table and proceeded to make it the most memorable mystery dinner I’ll ever give. In a good way.

I had told Angie to feed Porter an extra-big dinner before she brought him in, so he didn’t beg at the table after all. He frisked around snorting like a little choo-choo and had everybody laughing.

After the first course, when the diners went outside for their walk to the cemetery and gave us a chance to clear the table and set up the next course, Teddy lagged behind and said, “I don’t know what I’m going to do about Carmilla and Porter. They just don’t like one another.”

“Well, I don’t know what she’s got against him, but I’m with Porter – Carmilla gives me the creeps.”

“She’s supposed to. That’s her job.” He took Porter by the leash and got ready to follow the guests.

“Oh, and Teddy,” I said, catching up with him. “Don’t go spinning any ridiculous stories about my landlord’s relatives out there, okay? Just let my volunteer follow her script or you’re going to throw the whole thing off. Later, by the campfire, you can spin a yarn. But not about the Cadburys!”

He gave me a wink, which I resented, and chucked me under the chin, which I resented even more.

After the dinner was over, the place was tidied up, and things settled down at Cadbury House for the night, I went into the living room and sat beside Michael.

“Good show tonight,” he said.

“Wasn’t it wonderful? You’ve got to admit, Teddy is good at what he does.”

“Without making any value judgments about what it actually is that he does, I agree. Who are you calling?”

“Ed. Something happened tonight and I need to tell him about it.”

“You like him, don’t you?”

I put the phone down and looked at Michael in surprise. “I guess I’ve gotten used to him. He’s kind of a character, but underneath, yes, I think he’s a very good guy.”

“Uh huh.” Michael was nodding and the wheels were turning, but I had something else on my mind, and I placed the call. It was just after midnight, but I knew Ed would still be up. He’d been doing research in Tropical Breeze all afternoon, and he was compulsive about transcribing his notes and putting down his impressions while they were still fresh.

When he answered, I just said, “You were right.”

“Oh? Did something happen tonight?”

“I think so. Teddy was at the dinner after all, and before it started, he introduced the team. Porter was there, and he attacked Carmilla.”

“He did?”
There was a kind of triumph in his voice, and I knew instinctively that he had stood up in his excitement.

“Teddy says that they don’t like one another one bit, Porter and Carmilla.”

Michael, bored with my side of the conversation, had turned the television on, and I got up and walked to the kitchen so I could hear better.

“Of course he doesn’t like her!” Ed said.

“And she doesn’t like anybody, but that just confirms it for me. I believe in an animal’s instinctive reaction to people. If they take a sudden, violent dislike to somebody, there’s a reason.”

“I can’t say I follow your logic, but I’m glad to hear you believe in my theory. Porter would know. He was there.”

“What do we do now? Is Teddy in any danger?”

“Very much so, but she’s nowhere near him now, is she?”

“He and Lily are sharing a room, but Carmilla’s alone. I think it’s time we warned him, don’t you?”

“Definitely.”

“I’ll go upstairs and do it now.”

Returning to the living room, I asked Michael to turn the TV off. He did.

“Michael, we may have a situation here. Ed thinks Teddy is in real danger. I need to go upstairs to Teddy’s room and explain it all to him, but, um, now that I think it all over, I wonder if we aren’t all in danger. Will you come with me?”

His eyes had narrowed. “Danger? Should I get my gun?”

“Yeah,” I said reluctantly. “You’d better go get it.”

I knocked softly and Lily let us in. Teddy came out of the bathroom in his underwear with no hesitation whatsoever, and Lily told him to get some pants on, for God’s sake.

“Is that a gun?” Teddy asked.

“Never mind that,” I said, keeping my voice down and locking the door. “Listen, guys, I think Ed has figured out how Jane got away.”

“He has? Why didn’t he tell
me
?” Teddy asked. “And where is she?”

“Here. In this house. She’s Carmilla.”

Michael’s head snapped around and he stared at me. Teddy couldn’t take it in, but Lily got it right away.

“Of course!” she said. “You never saw the two of them together. When you called an early-morning meeting for Carmilla, Jane had to go to the dentist, remember?”

“Right. And when Jane pushed Misty over the railing, we all thought Carmilla was sleeping in her room. Nobody wanted to be the one to check on her. If anybody had, Jane would have caused a diversion.”

“Wait,” Teddy said, “Carmilla? You think my co-star is trying to kill me. Why?”

I brushed it off. “Who knows? She’s crazy. But it all fits. The first thing Jane did before making a run for it was kill the lights. It happened right in front of Carmilla’s room. All Jane had to do was dodge into her own room, rip her ‘Jane’ wig off and shove it somewhere, anywhere out of sight, then run through the dark gallery to Jinx’s room. Ed thinks while she was in her room she also ripped off the tee shirt, so if anybody ran into her in the dark, she could say she was Carmilla, that she was chasing Jane, and they would let her go. They’d feel her leather bustier, not a baggy tee shirt, which she was probably carrying low or had crammed into her costume somewhere.”