Dead and Breakfast (33 page)

“My sister is dead?” Inez asked.

Autumn could feel Inez’s anger lift, leaving a residue of sadness. “I want to tell her I’m sorry.”

“You can,” Liam said. “Drop your hold on this world so you can move on to the other. Release Autumn, and be with your family.”

“No!” Inez bolted upright. “You just want me to go away. Like before.” Inez pushed on Liam’s chest. “I don’t have to go. I can stay in Autumn’s body and be young again.”

Liam drew Autumn toward him. “I’m not letting go. Autumn, get out of there!”

My mom. Meeting my new brother. Studying journalism. Swimming in the warm Florida water. I will not let you take me, Inez!

Inez cackled. “You can’t stop me!”

Kissing Liam. Loving Liam. Being with Liam.

Autumn banged on her coffin lid. It felt like steel. She tried again.

Liam. Liam. Liam.

“Get used to me.” Inez’s mouth turned up at the corners. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Liam leaned down and kissed Autumn on the mouth.

Liam. Liam. Liam.

Autumn punched the lid and the lock rattled. She hit it again and the lid popped. Autumn climbed out of the coffin into a cell.

Love
.

Autumn wrapped her arms around Liam’s neck and kissed him back. The prison bars of Inez’s hold transformed into loose strands of silk. Autumn pushed through them and emerged.

Autumn embraced Liam. He nuzzled her neck and mumbled, “You came back to me.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you,” she said.

“Ever?” he asked.

But before Autumn could respond, Mrs. Canton broke in, her voice hoarse. “Is she gone?”

Autumn and Liam broke apart. Autumn pressed her hand against her temple, hoping to subdue the lightheadedness. She relished the coolness of her own touch and exhaled with relief. “She’s gone.”

Bernadette stood tall and limped toward the door. “Good. I’m done with this performance. Your little show is over. Forget the renovations. I’m siding with Mick. I want this place leveled.”

Timothy blocked her exit. “Where do you think you’re going? I called the police.”

Mrs. Canton pushed him aside. “No, dear, I don’t think so. You see, you have no proof. What are you going to tell the police? That a ghost identified me as her killer?”

“We’ll tell the police we heard you confess,” said Liam.

“And I’ll say you’re lying to get back at my family. Your grandfather confessed to the crime. They won’t charge me. You have no evidence. No body. No murder weapon.”

Uncle Duncan revealed he was complicit in the cover up of Inez’s murder. But he didn’t see what Ralph did with Inez’s body. As far as Bernadette and Duncan believed, Ralph dumped Inez in the ocean. But Autumn knew differently.

“Priscilla Newman,” Autumn whispered. Her thoughts churned.

“What are you talking about?” Mrs. Canton asked impatiently.

“Priscilla Newman was the secretary in your brother’s detective novels. She was the smart one. That’s why you used her name. She was the unassuming star of the books. The clever girl. The one who figured out the murders before her boss did. She always knew where the bodies were hidden.”

“So what?” Bernadette sneered.

“So,” Autumn replied. “There is a body. And I know just where she is.”

Bernadette laughed nervously. “That’s impossible.”

Autumn shook her head. “There’s a good reason why Inez haunts the Cayo. Not just because she died here, but because she’s buried here. Liam, where did you find the St. Veronica’s pin?”

“Next to the Marlberry bush by the fence,” he replied.

“That’s where she’s buried,” Autumn said triumphantly.

“There’s no way for you to know that,” said Bernadette. “Ralphie dumped her at sea.”

“Except he didn’t. A storm rolled in and your brother wouldn’t risk taking the boat out on such choppy waters. So he buried her in the only place he could—the hole dug for the Marlberry bush in the Cayo’s backyard. He just never told you.”

“How you know that?” Timothy asked.

“Easy. It was the same thing the killer did in one of Mr. Blazevig’s paperback mysteries. Priscilla figured it out. When they dig up Inez, they’ll find the murder weapon—Bernadette’s cane. I’m sure I don’t need to be Priscilla Newman to know that a body and the murder weapon are pretty damning evidence.”

Timothy, Liam, and Autumn all watched as the color drained from Bernadette’s face. She spun on her heels and fled the room, only to smack into Mr. Fletcher.

“Well, this should make a nice conclusion to my profile on the Cantons,” Mr. Fletcher said. “Officers, you can come in now.”

Two police officers came around, one holding handcuffs that he slapped on Bernadette’s wrists.

Then they read Mrs. Canton her rights.

#

Liam rolled his scooter up Pops’s driveway before cutting the engine. He didn’t even take off his helmet before charging toward the house, bolting inside, and calling for Pops.

“In the kitchen, kiddo,” cried Pops, his voice sounding scratchy and older.

Liam’s heart swelled as he entered the kitchen to see Pops sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a set of freshly laundered shorts and a T-shirt, sipping a cup of coffee. Liam dumped his helmet on the table and wrapped his arms around his grandfather. Coffee sloshed over the edge of the mug.

“Take it easy, sport. I’m an old man.” Pops’s light voice betrayed his fake annoyance.

Liam rested his chin on his grandpa’s shoulder. “I missed you.”

Pops reached his arm up to tap Liam’s cheek. “Missed you too.”

“Liam,” someone said, and he turned to see his father. Liam stood frozen, his feet cemented to the tile floor.

Ray Breyer opened his arms wide, but Liam made no moves.

“What are you doing here?” Liam’s eyes ran up and down his father’s frame. He was wearing one of Liam’s old T-shirts, a pair of Pops’s shorts, and a belt, cinching the waist tight. His father looked gaunt and at least fifteen pounds lighter than when Liam had last seen him.

Ray dropped his arms and leaned against the sink. “I’ve come home.”

“For how long?” Liam’s voice rose. “A week? A month? How long until you take off again?” Liam knew he sounded antagonistic, but he didn’t care.

“I don’t plan on leaving again.” Ray didn’t meet Liam’s gaze, and so Liam took that for what it was—a lie.

“Right,” said Liam.

Ray didn’t respond and a tense moment hung in the air until it was cut by the sound of the telephone ringing.

At first, no one made a move to answer until Pops slowly rose from the table. “Who could be calling now?” He ambled to the wall and picked up the phone in the middle of a ring. “Hello? Who’s this?”

Liam and Ray stopped glaring at each other to watch Pops’s face twist into an unreadable expression.

“Everything all right, Dad?” Ray asked.

Pops closed his eyes and ran his hand over his scruff. “Okay, okay. How’d you get my number?” Leo’s eyes shot up. “Oh, I didn’t know that. Thank you.” Pops hung up the phone, looking stunned.

Liam and Ray faced Pops with their hands cupping their elbows, that same stance passed down from Breyer man to Breyer man.

“What’s going on, Pops?”

Leo took a moment to register Liam’s face. “That was the hospital calling. Apparently, I was Ralph’s in-case-of-emergency person on his insurance forms.”

“Is Mr. Blazevig being released from the hospital? Does he need a ride home?”

“Liam,” Ray said softly. “I don’t—”

“He’s dead,” Pops cut him off. “Ralphie passed away in his sleep.”

Liam and Ray stood there helpless until Pops began to weep. Ray and Liam stepped toward the old man and wrapped their arms around him.

#

Autumn took the long way to school for fear that cutting through City Cemetery, and not seeing Mr. Blazevig at his usual post by his family’s graves, would turn her into a weeping, blubbery mess minutes before homeroom.

After everything that had happened, Autumn was in no rush to return to New Jersey, although that didn’t mean she and her mother were secure in their home either.

For reasons that seemed obvious to Autumn, Mick Canton ended his contract on the Cayo. Instead, he had larger issues to deal with—including the arrest and murder trial of his wife, Bernadette. Considered a flight risk, Bernadette was not granted bail, despite the arguments made by an expensive team of lawyers. Thus, the Cayo Hueso Dead and Breakfast was still on the real estate market.

“We’re still going to have to sell,” Evelyn had told Autumn that morning at breakfast.

She and her mother hadn’t really spoken much about their fight. After Bernadette had been arrested, Autumn told her mother she didn’t want to move in with her father and Jennifer.

“I know you don’t want to leave Liam,” her mother had said.

“It’s not that,” Autumn said. “I don’t want to leave you. And if it means moving to Texas to live with Grandma, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Evelyn brought Autumn into a hug and mumbled into her hair. “I don’t want to move to El Paso either. Hopefully, a miracle will happen before then.”

Now, as Autumn stood on the steps to her charter school and met the cold gaze of Victoria Canton, perched only a few feet from her, Autumn needed that miracle.

“Listen Victoria, I’m—”

Victoria held up her hand. “Shut it.”

Autumn balked. That seemed harsh. After all, it was Victoria’s grandmother who murdered a girl fifty years ago.

“I don’t need any crap,” Victoria said. “I’ve heard enough from everyone else.”

It took Autumn a moment to realize Victoria wasn’t flanked by her usual posse of Amazonian followers. “I wasn’t going to give you crap,” Autumn said. “I was going to say that I’m sorry you’re going through this.”

Victoria narrowed her eyes as if trying to decipher Autumn’s angle. “Sure you are.”

Autumn climbed the stairs until she could meet Victoria’s red-rimmed and puffy eyes. “I
am
sorry. This isn’t your fault.”

Victoria’s shoulders drooped. “No one should feel sorry for me. Walk me to class, will ya?”

Autumn adjusted the strap on her messenger bag. “Sure.” They stepped toward the school building. “Do you want me to quiz you on the new material for American lit?”

Victoria nodded and bit her lip.

Later that afternoon, after the last bell, Autumn watched Victoria climb into the backseat of a black Escalade. The car’s driver left, kicking up gravel and revealing Liam, who leaned against his scooter.

Autumn’s heart sped. “What are you doing here?”

Liam kissed Autumn on the cheek, a sweet gesture that also felt chaste and disappointing. Autumn wasn’t sure what she had expected. It wasn’t like Liam was going to gather her in his arms for a dramatic make-out.

Get a grip, Abernathy.

“Your mom asked me to come and get you.” Liam pressed his mouth into a line. “There’s a woman at the Cayo Hueso.”

“A new guest?” asked Autumn, disappointed. “I don’t feel like cleaning any rooms today.”

“No,” Liam said. “She’s not that. She’s a lawyer for Mr. Blazevig. She’s there to read his will.”

#

Mr. Blazevig’s lawyer, who introduced herself as Mrs. Anita D’Andrea, plunked a black briefcase on the small glass tabletop in the Cayo’s parlor. She was dressed in a blue linen suit, her blonde curly hair piled on top of her head, with reading glasses perched on her nose.

Everyone scrambled to find a seat. The parlor had never catered to this size a crowd before. Aunt Glenda squirmed in a floral armchair. Cora stood beside her, her hand resting on Glenda’s shoulder. Evelyn fussed over Mrs. D’Andrea like a waitress, asking if she wanted a bottle of water or Cora’s homemade cookies. Pops and Ray were there too, clearly feeling out of place. Meanwhile, Autumn, Timothy, and Liam hung in the back of the room, leaning against the wall, trying to stay out of the adults’ way. Mr. Fletcher shook the lawyer’s hand, and they exchanged pleasantries about a mutual colleague.

Liam had never been to the reading of someone’s will. That was something only rich people did on television. And up until recently, no one knew that Mr. Blazevig even had money. Of course, Mr. Blazevig had been a man of many secrets.

Mrs. D’Andrea withdrew papers from her briefcase and snapped it closed. She sat down and addressed the group, looking less like a lawyer and more like a presiding judge. She rambled off some legal jargon that Liam barely paid attention to.

“I hereby leave my tour company to Mr. Liam Breyer,” Anita had read.

His heart stopped beating for a second. “Huh?”

Anita smiled without teeth. “You’re eighteen, I presume?”

He nodded, his mouth unable to form words.

“Great! You’re now the proud owner of Blazevig Haunted City Tours.”

Liam’s mind raced.
A business. Mr. Blazevig left me a business. No more working for other people. No partnership with sketchy Randall. I can make a life with this. Mr. Blazevig would be proud.

Mrs. D’Andrea cleared her throat and glanced around expectantly. “And for Autumn Abernathy, I leave you my house and savings.”

Autumn’s mouth dropped. “Are you serious?”

Everyone stared at her. The lawyer shifted nervously under their stunned gazes. “Um, I take it this is all very surprising.”

Mr. Fletcher was the first to speak. “Thank you so much, Anita. Would you be able to draw up paperwork to transfer ownership?”

Anita nodded and collected her belongings. “I’ll have my secretary take care of that.” She shook both Liam and Autumn’s hands before Evelyn escorted her to the lobby.

Autumn sank into a chair. “He left me his house.”

“He left me his business,” Liam said, equally surprised.

“Sounds to me like Old Mr. Blazevig was trying to make up for misdeeds by taking care of you two.” Timothy examined his nails. “Would’ve been nice to have been included in that as well, but I guess I’m just not—”

Evelyn returned and thrust a large cardboard tube into Timothy’s hands. “Mrs. D’Andrea forgot to give this to you. Apparently, Mr. Blazevig left it for you.”

Timothy cocked his brow. “Do you know what it is?”

Evelyn shrugged. “Some piece of art he said you’d appreciate.”