Make the Ghost of It (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 3): (Ghost Cozy Mystery series) (4 page)

Chapter 7

I took a long, slow sip of my coffee and set it back down on the table.

“How is it?” Tara asked me.

“It’s amazing! I forgot how good the coffee here was,” I replied, smiling. Tara and I had decided to catch up. Given all that had happened recently, finding the time to do something simple and relaxing was difficult. We’d talked on the phone and through texts, but there was something a lot nicer about talking in person. Plus, there was coffee.

“Yeah, it’s great. We haven’t done this in a while.” Tara paused to take a sip before continuing. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“Oh, geez, I don’t even know where to begin.” I sighed. While we had been talking for a long time, I’d kept all of the crazy recent events in my life under wraps. I wanted to tell her, and had planned to do so, but doing it over the phone didn’t seem right, considering how dramatic and important it all was.

“Maybe from the beginning?” Tara teased.

I laughed, and thought about it a bit more. “All right, sure. You know Basil?”

“Of course I know Basil, you twit. You don’t shut up about him.”

I laughed again, realizing I couldn’t refute her point. “Fair enough, but we kissed.” As I said it, Tara’s mouth dropped open.

“What!” she yelled, causing all the customers at the cafe to stare at us. “How could you not tell me this until now? When was it? I swear it had better have been while you were on the way here.”

“It was the night before Lewis Lowes was killed. It feels like longer, though. More than that’s happened.”

Tara tapped impatiently on the table as I took another drink before I continued. “He visited me with his friend from college, Lewis. Well, they went skydiving together and...” I paused and Tara looked at me worryingly.

“And what, Laurel?”

“That was the guy who died, the one whose parachute didn’t open.”

Tara clasped her hand to her mouth. “Oh, gosh.” She seemed genuinely shocked. “Do you know how that happened? Was he an amateur?”

“No, just the opposite; he’d had plenty of experience. Nobody’s quite sure how, though Janet said she was told that his parachute wasn’t packed properly. Those detectives who are investigating have Basil as a suspect. Didn’t Duncan tell you?”

Tara was completely taken aback. “No, not about Basil. I mean, the whole town knows about the skydiving accident, of course, but Duncan didn’t tell me that Basil is suspect. Have you talked to the ghost?” Tara was the only one, apart from Basil, who knew I could talk to ghosts.

“Yes,” I said.

“So what does he think happened?”

“You need to promise me that you won’t tell anybody this.” I said in a near-whisper. Tara nodded calmly. “Lewis was auditing a company,
It’s Accrual World
.” When I mentioned the name, Tara looked like she was trying to force a smile. “No, it’s okay; the name isn’t funny,” I assured her, at which she seemed somewhat relieved. “Anyway, Lewis called the head of the company and exposed massive embezzlement fraud the night before he died.”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but why on earth would he decide to make a powerful enemy before he went
skydiving
?” Tara asked.

“He didn’t actually know that the head of the company was the one responsible. Actually, nobody knows if that’s even the case yet. He might have just been protecting whoever
was
responsible for the theft, or it could even be a coincidence.”

Tara looked concerned. “I’m sorry all this has happened, Laurel. How’s Basil holding up through it all?”

“He’s not doing too well, honestly. On top of his friend dying, he’s still a suspect, the prime suspect, really. He was the only person up there with him before the accident, except the pilot, but he couldn’t have done anything.” I cupped my head in my hands, thinking it was about time for another coffee or three.

“But you said that the detectives think that maybe his parachute was tampered with?” Tara raised an eyebrow as she asked me.

“Yes, and if that’s the case it could really be anybody.” I sighed, before excusing myself to get up and order another coffee. When I returned, I found Tara in deep thought.

“Parachutes have a failsafe, right? In case it doesn’t open the first time?” Tara asked me.

“Yes,” I replied. “And it failed too, which is apparently extremely rare.”

Tara nodded. “Which is why the detectives suspect foul play, I suppose. Especially since you mentioned that he was a skilled parachutist.” Tara leaned back in her chair. “This is all a bit above my pay grade. I was expecting tales of your latest romantic conquest, not murder conspiracies.”

“Sorry, Tara.” I said earnestly. I felt bad about rambling about it, but I’d needed to get it off my chest. So much had happened, and I hadn’t really spoken to anybody but Basil about it. A thought occurred to me. “You probably suspect Basil, at least a little bit, huh?”

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t,” Tara admitted. “I don’t really know him, Laurel, and he was the only other person on the plane. I believe you if you say he didn’t do it, though.”

“Basil can clear his name if they find somebody else’s DNA on the parachute,” I explained.

“But why would the killer’s DNA be on the parachute in the first place? It’s not like they bled on it.” Tara looked confused as she asked, and I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“I asked exactly the same thing, but Basil explained it to me. Apparently it’s called Touch DNA, and they only need a few skin cells to get a match. If somebody else’s DNA is on there, they might stop suspecting Basil entirely.”

“But what if the killer wore gloves?” Tara asked.

“Exactly what I said when Basil explained it to me. Unfortunately, we don’t know yet.”

“We’ve found ourselves talking about murder again, Laurel.” Tara smirked.

“Sorry,” I admitted. “I shouldn’t be talking about it anyway. It’s just nice to get it off my chest.”

“No, it’s fine. I didn’t mean it like that. I just want to change the subject to something a little bit cheerier before you make me kidnap and interrogate the CEO of a company.” Tara laughed.

“Oh, no, nothing so cunning.” I smiled. “I was just going to attack him in his office and hope for the best.”

Tara laughed again. “Well, how about…” Before she could finish, Tara was cut off by what sounded like a thousand cows mooing. I clapped my hands over my ears and looked outside.

I’d imagined that the noise could have only come from some kind of otherworldly banshee, and I wasn’t too far off. Outside was my mother, standing next to Ian, singing gospel songs. Then again, calling it ‘singing’ was somewhat of a stretch.

I buried my head in my hands. Ian and Mom did this around town on occasion. The only sane explanation would be that they were trying to raise money for some kind of charitable organization, but they wouldn’t accept money even if people were willing to pay. Mom had always adamantly stood by the idea that they were showing strangers the voice of God. I figured they were definitely converting people, just probably not to the side that they wanted.

“That’s your mother, isn’t it?” Tara asked sympathetically, her eyes wide with shock.

I resisted the urge to run away from the café, but only because it would mean passing by Mom and Ian. “Yes, it is,” I admitted. “I don’t know why she does this, it’s embarrassing enough when she’s in public and
isn’t
singing.”

I overheard a couple at a nearby seat talking. “What on earth is that horrible sound?”

“It’s those two outside. That old lady and the little guy.”

I would’ve have found that funny if I hadn’t been so annoyed and upset about it all. I thought about asking if this café had a back door. The couple continued to talk about Mom and Ian, as did everyone else in the café, but I made an effort not to listen.

I saw a man at the back of the cafe stand up and walk toward the door.

“Pastor Green!” I exclaimed, jumping out of my seat.

“Oh, hello, Laurel.” He smiled warmly. “I suppose you didn’t come here to spread the screech of God?”

I laughed. Pastor Green was a very nice man, but even he was pushed to his limit by my mother. “No, I’m here having coffee. I didn’t notice you there or I would have invited you over.”

“I didn’t notice you either, but the feeling is mutual. Excuse me, though, Laurel. I need to get outside and stop them from scaring away potential Church-goers.” He smiled and walked outside.

I sat back down opposite Tara and watched the whole event unfold. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the noise cut out as soon as he started talking to the pair and never resumed. After a few minutes Pastor Green watched them leave, and as Mom walked past the window, I noticed she looked a bit put out. Ian didn’t look as perturbed, but I suspected he was just waiting for my mother to tell him how to feel.

Pastor Green entered and walked over to the counter, before ordering another coffee and sitting down at the table with us.

“She cited Psalm 104:33,” the pastor said as he sat down. “I had to explain to her that she didn’t literally have to sing the Lord’s praises.” He laughed. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

“Not at all,” I said, looking at Tara.

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” she said, smiling at Pastor Green.

“How are you, Laurel?” he asked after he had retrieved his coffee. “I understand things have been chaotic for you lately.” He looked at me with genuine concern.

“I’m okay, thank you. It’s Basil I’m worried about. Honestly, though, I’ve been talking about it all day, so I’d like to avoid the subject.” I hoped I wasn’t coming across as rude.

“Of course, not a problem. And how are you, Tara?” Pastor Green asked her. It hadn’t occurred to me until then, but I wasn’t even sure if they knew each other. Tara wasn’t exactly a frequent church-goer, by which I mean she never went to church, but I supposed in a small town everybody knew everybody else to some degree.

“I’m well, thank you. Better now that my hearing is starting to return.” Tara laughed as she finished speaking, and Pastor Green and I followed suit. I felt a tiny bit bad about laughing at my own mother, but she truly was an awful singer, and we were all better off for her having stopped. “Duncan said you had some trouble at the church? He texted this morning to say that something was called in, but he didn’t give any details.”

“Oh, that,” the pastor said, taking a large gulp of coffee before continuing. “It was nothing serious. Actually, it was nothing at all.” He sighed, sounding almost embarrassed. “Actually, that was Thelma again.” He turned to me. “Apparently there were bees on the church grounds.”

“So she called the police?” I asked, to which the pastor sighed again.

“I wish. She called the police, an ambulance, and the fire department. Apparently it was ‘just to be on the safe side’, but they were less than impressed, as was I.” He took another sip of his coffee as Tara’s jaw dropped open.

I dropped my head into my hands again. When I moved out of Mom’s house, I should have found somewhere further away.

Much further.

Chapter 8

I awoke with a start. I looked around my room, but no one was there. I suppose I was getting edgy what with there being a murderer on the loose. What happened next was a blur, as it always is before I’ve had my first coffee of the morning. I don’t become lucid until I drink at least one cup of coffee.

I staggered downstairs to the Nespresso machine, but just as I switched it on, an apparition appeared before me. “I know who the murderer is!” the apparition screamed as it took shape.

It was Lewis. “You scared me!” I said.

“Isn’t that what everyone says to a ghost?” Lewis said with a smirk, but then his smirk changed to a frown. “Norbert’s here with my girlfriend, Violet. Norbert was the one who killed me! He’s always been jealous of me, and now he’s got my fiancée.”

I downed my first coffee—a single shot—and then quickly put the first of two pods in the Nespresso machine. I was going to need a double shot. I held up my finger. “Wait just a minute. You asked me out when you have a fiancée? And didn’t you say Basil was always jealous of you?”

Lewis floated toward me. “I was joking about Basil. Well, no, I wasn’t really. Everyone is jealous of me to some degree because I’m so accomplished, truth be told. But Basil was never malicious about it like Norbert was. And now Norbert’s with my fiancée, Violet! I sneaked into their hotel room and…” Lewis covered his eyes with his hands. “I just can’t begin to tell you what I saw!”

“Please don’t!” I said. “Now let me get this straight.” I put the second pod in the machine. “So you’re engaged to this Violet, and behind your back, she’s been having an affair with this Norbert, whoever he is?”

“How should I know?” Lewis said angrily. “Perhaps their affair started after Norbert killed me. But she sure didn’t waste any time.”

“Seriously, Lewis, I don’t think everyone has your morals, if you don’t mind me saying so. I hardly think that your fiancée would start an affair with someone only a day or two after you were murdered. And why didn’t you happen to mention that you thought Norbert murdered you before?”

“It’s only just become clear to me now.” Lewis slammed his hand on his fist. I watched with interest, wondering why his hand didn’t pass straight through, but then again, his clothes didn’t pass straight through him either. I was grateful for that.

Ernie suddenly appeared next to Lewis. “So that’s what the shouting’s all about! It’s the new guy. Oh well, at least it’s not dead quiet around here any more.” Ernie doubled over laughing at his own joke.

Something occurred to me. “Lewis, why did you go to Violet’s hotel room? Don’t you know it’s not nice to be a Peeping Tom?”

Ernie shook his finger at Lewis. “That’s not nice.”

“Well, Violet doesn’t have that protection that you’ve got around your apartment, Laurel,” Lewis said.

I gasped. “Have you tried to get into my apartment?”

Lewis had the grace to look shamefaced. “I wasn’t going to spy on you, if that’s what you mean. I came by earlier this morning when I saw Norbert and Violet, you know, to tell you about them, but I couldn’t get past the barrier.”

Ernie smirked. “A likely story,” he said, crossing his arms.

Lewis rounded on him. “It’s true!”

I drank my coffee quickly, and then put another pod in the machine. Clearly, it was going to be a long day. “No squabbling, you two,” I said. “We have to find out who killed Lewis, so Basil won’t be a suspect any more.”

Lewis pouted. “Oh yes, don’t bother to solve my murder just because you care about me.”

I sighed. I was beginning to think that my mother would be better company.

Lewis was still ranting. “Norbert did it! Norbert did it; I tell you!”

“You only said that after you knew he was off with your girlfriend,” I pointed out.

“Fiancée.”

I waved my hand. “Yes, all right then, whatever. Fiancée. You didn’t mention Norbert before this. Anyway, what possible motive could he have had?”

“I just know Norbert murdered me,” Lewis said. “I should’ve gone to Basil with the information first.”

“Why didn’t you?” I asked him. “Basil is your long-term friend, and you hardly know me.”

At that, Lewis vanished. Ernie shrugged, and then vanished too. I drank my third cup of coffee in peace.

I was wondering what to do next, whether to call Basil, or to get back to painting, when Basil called me. My heart fluttered when I saw the caller ID.

Basil wasted no time in coming to the point. “Lewis is here with me. He said that Norbert killed him.”

I interrupted him. “Lewis was just here. He told me the same thing.”

Basil paused for a moment. “You were just at Laurel’s?” I heard him say. After a moment, he continued speaking, this time to me. “Laurel, I didn’t know that. He came here in a terrible state and said that he just caught Norbert with his fiancée in a hotel room.”

“Yes, I’ve heard all about it,” I said. “He hasn’t mentioned Norbert to us before. Do you think he’s only suspecting him now because he saw him with his fiancée?”

“Yes I do,” Basil said. “We did ask him if he knew anyone who wanted to kill him, and he only mentioned the embezzler. Still, do you think we should check out Norbert?”

“Yes, what a good idea,” I said, although I didn’t think it was a good idea at all. I just wanted to have some alone time with Basil. “What can we do, though? We can hardly go to Norbert and Violet and ask them questions. It’s not as if we’re the police.”

Ernie appeared in front of me. “I wasn’t with Lewis at the hotel, so I don’t know for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the two people who have just arrived at the funeral home are Norbert and Violet.” With that, he vanished again.

I relayed that news to Basil. On the one hand, I was pleased that I had the opportunity to get some information from the new suspect, but on the other hand the timing wasn’t good. Basil had probably been about to ask me out to lunch.

I opened the door before the doorbell had even sounded, causing the two people standing there to jump slightly.

Before I could form an opinion on their appearance, I was almost knocked backward by the smell of the fragrance. I assumed it was the woman wearing the perfume, and not the man, although it had woodsy undernotes. I’ve heard that someone can get so used to the scent of their own perfume that they wear more and more each day, and now I believed it.

“Laurel Bay?” the man said.

“Yes,” I said, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m Norbert Watson and this is Violet Pendlebury. We’d like to speak with you about a memorial service.”

I kept my features carefully neutral, and didn’t let on that I knew what they were here about. “Please come into my office,” I said in a professional tone. When we reached my office, I opened the door, and showed them in.

As soon as I sat down, Norbert spoke again. “A friend of ours was killed. I believe he landed on your roof.”

I carefully showed surprise. “Do you mean Lewis Lowes?”

“Did you know him?” he asked me.

“I only met him in passing when he was on his way to the drop zone,” I said. “Such a terrible thing.”

“The police said they don’t know how long they’ll take with his body,” Norbert said. “For that reason, we thought we should hold a memorial service. Violet and I have pressing business, but we’ve contacted everyone who would like to attend such a service, and they all said they can come at once. I know it’s short notice, but do you have a vacancy for this week?”

I nodded. “Funerals are always at short notice. People don’t usually book months in advance.”

Neither Norbert nor Violet showed any amusement at my statement. Both simply nodded solemnly.

I made a show of looking through my appointment book and took the opportunity to look them over. Norbert was good looking in a similar way to Lewis. Violet, on the other hand, was strikingly attractive. I could not guess her age—she could have been anything from twenty-five to fifty. Her skin was glowing, and she had long straight blonde hair and a slim figure. Had she been taller, she could easily have been mistaken for a supermodel.

“Do you mind me asking how you knew Mr. Lowes?”

Violet and Norbert exchanged glances. “We were friends,” Violet said. It was the first time Violet had spoken, and although she spoke softly, her voice held the commanding presence of a drill sergeant.

I pushed on. “Had you known him long?”

They both nodded. “We all met at college, and the three of us have been friends ever since.”

That was news to me. “Do you know my accountant, Basil Sandalwood?” I asked them. “Apparently he went to college with Lewis, too. He was with Lewis when, well, you know…” My voice trailed away.

“We don’t know Mr. Sandalwood,” Norbert said. “They were probably doing law or accounting classes together. Lewis also took archeology classes, and that’s how we met him.”

I nodded. “Oh, you’re archeologists?”

They both looked aghast. “Good gracious me, no,” Violet said. “We took those classes just because there were no exams.”

I changed the subject. “What day would you like the memorial service?”

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Violet asked me.

“Tomorrow?” I echoed.

“Is it too soon?” Norbert said.

I shook my head. “No, not for us, but is it too soon for Lewis’s friends and family?”

Norbert looked somewhat uncomfortable, but answered readily enough. “Lewis doesn’t have any family. That is to say, he has no living relatives at all. He does have friends, though, and Violet and I have contacted all of them, and most of them can make it tomorrow. Violet and I needed to leave town as soon as possible, because we have pressing business.”

I bet you do
, I thought cattily. I thought of all the puns I could make. I suppressed a weird urge to giggle. “Do you have anyone in mind to take the service?” I managed to say.

Norbert looked blank. “Don’t you organize that?”

“Yes,” I said. “I most certainly can. Most people use the minister from their own church, but I’ll check to see if Pastor Green is available. He does non-denominational and inter-denominational services.”

Norbert and Violet did not seem to care. “He will be fine,” Violet said dismissively.

We then moved to discussing prices. “We want the standard, average service,” Violet said.

I was silent for a moment, pondering her words. What would be her motivation for saying that? Did she want the cheapest service, but didn’t want to say so?

I stared at her again. There was just something about her that I didn’t like. She didn’t appear to be the sort of person that one warms to. There was something cold and forbidding about her. I wondered why she hadn’t told me that she had been Lewis’s fiancée. Surely that would have been the normal thing to do?

I stabbed the folder in front of me. “This is the service that most people have,” I said, swinging the folder around so they could both see it.

“That will do fine,” Norbert said. He barely even looked at the folder. Violet nodded her agreement. She fiddled with the straps of her designer purse.

At that point, Lewis appeared at the side of my desk. Norbert and Violet followed my gaze. No matter—they would never suspect that I was looking at a ghost.

Lewis pointed to Norbert. “He did it! He stole my fiancée, and he murdered me!”

At that very moment, my landline rang. Norbert and Violet stood up. “Please sit down,” I said. “I’ll speak with whoever it is later.”

Norbert appeared pleased to have an excuse to leave. “That’s okay. We have to be going, anyway. We’ll show ourselves out.”

They both hurried out the door, and I answered the phone. It was a lady wanting to book a themed funeral.

“Yes, Tuesday is fine,” I said, after I heard all her requirements. “Yes, Pastor Green definitely won’t have a problem with doing a Wizard of Oz funeral. As I’m sure you know, we are known for our celebrity and themed funerals.”

“Yes,” the lady on the other end of the phone said. “I saw the article about you when you did the KISS funeral. I looked up your website, and then realized you were the ideal funeral home to do the Wizard of Oz funeral.”

I scrawled notes on a piece of paper, on which I had written, ‘Wizard of Oz,’ and then underlined it three times. Under that I wrote the names of all the Wizard of Oz characters. Pastor Green was now in the habit of dressing up for the celebrity and themed funerals, and sometimes he asked my advice as to how he should dress.

I thought I heard a noise outside my office door at that point, but dismissed it. I called Janet to give her the good news that we were doing a Wizard of Oz funeral. Janet loved the themed funerals.

Just then I heard another sound at the door, and crept over to it. I flung it open, and there was my mother, hiding on the other side of the door.

“Were you listening in to what I was saying?” I asked her.

“How dare you, Laurel!” she snapped at me. “I just came to see how you were, and I saw those people leave. My only daughter, saying such a terrible thing about me! How could you? I’m happy that you’ve booked another funeral. I’m happy for you.”