A Masquerade of Muertos (Wisteria Tearoom Mysteries Book 5) (4 page)

“So I can count on you all?” Gabriel asked.

Roberto leaned back in his chair and didn’t say anything. Gwyneth smiled brightly. “Of course you can!”

A plate of sweets appeared under my nose, distracting me. I looked up at Ramon, who had taken the plate from the tea tray at our end of the table in order to hand it around. I chose a
pan de muerto
and passed the plate to Roberto.

The bread was soft, still warm, and went surprisingly well with the cinnamon schnapps. I sipped, getting used to the color. I would not be downing a shot, thanks, but as an aperitif it wasn’t bad.

Gabriel started discussing the music with Ramon. The party would begin at nine o’clock. Three hours until the midnight unmasking, fairly long for a musical performance. Gabriel agreed to generous breaks, but insisted that Ramon be playing at the top of each hour, so that the music could pause when the clock chimed.

I hoped they were paying Ramon really well.

The others began chatting. Dale asked Gwyneth what her costume would be, which launched her into happy speculation. She leaned toward Titania, with Roberto as Oberon, which seemed to assuage his prince-envy somewhat.

Dee came around with fresh tea, and ended up standing at the far end of the table talking with Gabriel and Kris. No doubt they were discussing the “stranger” costume.

The Red Death was a fictional plague, but the made-up symptoms were vividly described in Poe’s story. If I recalled correctly, the “stranger” wore a death shroud mottled with blood and a mask made to look like a victim of the Red Death. It would definitely be grotesque, and evoke emotional response. In this part of the country the idea of plague was never taken lightly.

Bubonic plague was present in the wild rodents of New Mexico, and there were usually a couple of cases every year. In bad years a handful of people would die. The worst cases were when tourists caught it and didn’t show symptoms until they got back home; their local doctors had probably never seen the plague, and might not figure it out until it was too late. Modern medicine could cure bubonic plague, but modern medicine first had to catch a clue.

Feeling restless, I stood, picked up the empty tea tray, and carried it to the kitchen. Mick was putting away clean baking trays.

“I thought you’d gone home,” I said to him when he had removed his ear buds.

“Nah, I stayed to give Dee a lift. I clocked out, though, don’t worry.”

“If you’re working you should be paid.”

“I’ve been reading,” he said, showing me his phone. He’d found an ebook of “The Masque of the Red Death.”

“Dee told me about it,” he added. “Pretty creepy story.”

“It is.”

“Are they really going to reenact it on Halloween?”

“Apparently.”

“Wow. Need extra help that night?”

I looked at him, recognizing vague apprehension as the source of my disquiet. “I just might,” I said.

Going back to the dining parlor, I found that everyone was standing, intently discussing whether the dress code at the party should be historical or anything-goes. I found a tray and started collecting empty cordial glasses.

Before I had opened the tearoom, I really hadn’t had much contact with Goths. The last few months had been quite educational, and so had this evening; I’d seen a side of Kris I had never expected. The softness in her eyes when she looked at Gabriel—that was completely new.

Gabriel listened patiently to all the arguments, then declared that the invitations would encourage historical dress, but not require it. Given the apparent variety of taste among just the group at the meeting, I couldn’t help feeling that was wise.

Gwyneth and Roberto edged their way to the head of the table. I didn’t hear what Gabriel said to them, but his nod was gracious. He really could have been a prince, I thought idly.

Ramon gave me an empty tray in exchange for the one filled with cordial glasses, and I began collecting china. As I reached for the teacup at Kris’s place, I saw something black inside it and pulled my hand back with a sharp gasp.

Gabriel was instantly beside me. “Are you all right?”

Adrenaline flooded my veins, making me feel a bit unwell. I looked more closely at Kris’s cup.

“Is that a black widow?” I asked, my voice wavering slightly.

Conversation ceased. Kris stepped to her chair, peered into the cup, and reached for it.

“Don’t!” I said involuntarily.

She lifted the saucer, poked at the black object with her small, silver teaspoon, and declared, “It’s plastic.”

One of her sculpted eyebrows rose a fraction as her gaze swept the room. Someone chuckled.

“Really, what a foolish joke,” Cherie said. “I didn’t think any of us would stoop to baby-bat tricks.”

Kris fished the fake bug out of the cup. “Someone is getting in the mood for trick-or-treat,” she remarked, her voice cool. She tossed the spider toward Dale, who dodged amid sudden laughter. 

The meeting broke up quickly after that. I helped Ramon clear, still recovering my calm, while Dee tagged along with Gabriel and Kris to test the microphone on the clock. I had a feeling Gabriel would like to say good night to Kris in private, so when we had moved everything out of the dining parlor I went to the gift shop to extract Dee.

A loud ticking greeted me, which I recognized as the sound of my grandmother’s mantel clock, amplified. Gabriel stood looking at a pocket watch, flanked by Kris and Dee.

“Are you—”

I didn’t get a chance to finish my question. The chimes began, deafening, making me flinch.

“Too loud!” Kris said, covering her ears.

Gabriel took out his cell phone. “I’ll turn it down.”

The clock’s sound was suddenly damped. After the chime was finished, the ticking sound remained, much more subdued.

“Dee,” I said, “I could use your help in the pantry. It was a pleasure to meet you, Gabriel.”

His smile was warm as he shook my hand. “Thank you for letting us use your tearoom. I promise not to be a nuisance between now and the party.”

A part of me wouldn’t have minded him being a nuisance. I squelched that part firmly under a professional smile, and led Dee off to the pantry.

As we started sorting silverware from china, I asked, “Did he tell you about the costume?”

Dee grinned. “Yeah, it sounds pretty grotesque.”

“I take it that doesn’t bother you.”

She shrugged. “I’m studying criminal forensics. I can’t afford to be squeamish.”

She sounded steady enough, but I was still concerned that she might be too attracted to Gabriel. Not that it was any of my business. I felt the spirit of Miss Manners hovering over my shoulder, ready to shake an admonishing finger at me.

Abandoning the subject, I took a stack of plates into the kitchen. Mick relieved me of them and shooed me out.

“We’ll lock up,” he said, nodding toward Ramon, who was wiping down the work table.

I thanked them, said goodnight, and returned to the hall. Kris was returning from the front door, where I gathered she’d let Gabriel out. We started upstairs together.

“Happy with the response?” I asked.

“Yeah. It’s going to work. Gabriel’s pleased.”

“He’s certainly an interesting guy.”

She shot me a glance brimming with emotion, very unlike her usual cool demeanor. My worry alarm went off again.

“Have you known him long?” I asked.

“A couple of years,” she said, smiling to herself.

We reached the top of the stairs, and Kris turned toward her office. I followed her and stayed by the door while she fetched her coat. The print of Ophelia hanging on her wall struck me: the helplessness of a drowning madwoman rang a cautionary chord.

“I had no idea you were involved with anyone,” I said.

“Oh, we just started dating. Gabriel was seeing someone else until last week.”

“Oh?” Intuition prompted me to pry. “Was it someone who was here tonight?”

“Y-yes,” she said, flipping off the light switch and stepping past me back into the upper hall. Moonlight lit the sheers on the west window with a pale glow.

My thoughts flickered over the women who had been at the meeting. “Which of them did he date?”

Kris turned to me, then gave a little sigh and a wry smile as she shrugged into her coat. “All of them.”

³

I
blinked.
“All
of them?”

Kris nodded. “Gabriel is very charismatic.”

“Yes, I noticed.”

“Don’t worry—I’ve got my eyes open.” She smiled. “I’m just going to enjoy my turn in the spotlight. I don’t expect it to last. Gabriel’s...not a long-term kind of guy, I think.”

“Kris, you and I need to sit down together and have a nice long chat.”

“Sure. Maybe tomorrow, after the wedding.”

Oh, right. The wedding. I suddenly felt very tired.

“Ah. Yes,” I said. “Well, we’ll see.”

“Would you like me to come early?” she offered. “I could help set things up.”

“No, no. It’s all under control. You’re a guest, just come and enjoy the party.”

She did not ask, at that late date, to bring Gabriel, for which I was grateful. Not that we couldn’t have accommodated an extra guest, but it reassured me that she wasn’t rushing into this new relationship completely without caution.

I myself had a date for the wedding: Tony. As Nat’s maid of honor I’d be busy, but I hoped to get in a dance or two.

If Tony danced. I realized I didn’t know.

There were a lot of things I didn’t know about Detective Tony Aragón. Sometimes that worried me a little, but the man had saved my life. And he was a great kisser.

“I brought some black cloth to drape around Vi’s portrait,” Kris said, taking a length of georgette out of her coat pocket. “Is that all right with you?”

“Of course.”

We went downstairs, and I ducked into the pantry to fetch a sandstone coaster before following Kris to the Violet alcove tucked behind the gift shop. She stood on a small footstool, carefully draping the sheer black cloth around the edges of the portrait’s frame. When she stepped down, I slipped the coaster under the votive on the mantel.

Kris moved the footstool back to its place in front of a chair and stood gazing at Vi’s portrait. “I wonder if Captain Dusenberry was there to meet her when she died.”

The comment surprised me, but I treated it seriously. “I didn’t know you believed in the afterlife.”

She glanced at me. “Of course. Don’t you?”

“I...hadn’t thought about it lately.”

“Ellen, you live in a haunted house!”

“True.”

I glanced at Vi’s portrait, disturbed by the idea that she might decide to hang around with the Captain. The last thing I needed was for the tearoom to become Ghost Central.

Of course, the Bird Woman would love that. So would Willow Lane, no doubt.

“Vi didn’t die here,” I said. “Probably someone she knew met her.”

If you believed that the dead are met by a loved one. I wasn’t sure, myself. Part of me (trying to be very practical) believed only what I could see, hear, or touch. But since the tearoom had opened, I had seen and heard a lot of inexplicable things.

I had carefully avoided thinking about whether the two women who
had
died in the tearoom recently were haunting it. For comfort, I reminded myself that I hadn’t seen or heard anything to indicate they were. No new noises, no new mysteries. Only the occasional turning on of lights or music, and dancing chandelier crystals, that were Captain Dusenberry’s trademarks.

“You’re probably right,” Kris said. “She was the sort of person everyone loved. I bet she had plenty of people to meet her.” She stepped up to the mantel and adjusted the drape of the georgette. “Miss you, Vi.”

The candle’s flame flickered as she stepped back. It could have been the movement of the air.

I followed Kris to the back door, said goodnight, and watched through the window as she got into her car and drove away. The kitchen was dark; everyone else had left. I headed upstairs and into my office, turning on lights as I went.

My list of things to do for the wedding was on my desk. I glanced over it, checked my phone for messages, then retired to my private suite across the hall for a hot bath, a book, and bed.