The Gallery of the Dead (Tropical Breeze Cozy Mystery Book 3) (8 page)

“We’re filming at midnight. Anything else?”

Edson was staring at him open-mouthed. “You’re kidding!”

Lily was the only one actually reading Ed’s notes, and she nudged Teddy. “Look at page 18. The interview with Misty’s childhood friend, Nancy.”

“It was an interview by proxy,” Ed corrected. “A Miss Florence Purdy assisted.”

Lily ignored him. “It looks like Misty is lying about not knowing about the house before she bought it.”

Teddy found the page, and read briefly, frowning. “That proves nothing. The hazy memory of a busy mother wanting to make herself important.” He shoved the notes aside.

“And there’s something else,” Ed said, still trying valiantly. “I talked to an old man who used to be a caretaker here. He might have been high at the time, but he said something about the house actually being haunted, but not by the Whitbys. Anybody sense another kind of presence? Anybody?”

My heart bled for him. He was trying so hard. He’s such a small man, physically, and with those wire-rimmed glasses and his perpetual earnestness, he’s candy for bullies.

“Teddy, didn’t you say Misty told you something like that at dinner?” Lily asked.

“We’re going with the suicides,” Teddy said decisively. “It makes a better storyline. It’s too late to go after something vague from some guy who was high.”

Ed collapsed in his seat. “If you’re going to simply ignore the facts, there is no point in me wearing myself out doing research. I quit.”

“You can’t,” Teddy said smoothly. “You signed a contract, and if you try to slide out of it, I’ll sue you into the ground.”

So the production company was off to a flying start, when Teddy suddenly noticed me and decided to adjourn the meeting to the scene of the death, or the spot he imagined it to be.

“I’m sorry, Gertie,” he said warmly, “but from here on, it’s going to be confidential and proprietary. Do you have what you need? You’ve met the cast? Wonderful.” He shook my hand, but I wasn’t about to let him give me the bum’s rush. I wanted Ed’s notes.

“It’s Bernie, Mr. Torch. I can’t thank you enough for letting me sit in on the meeting. I’m going to just go into the kitchen now and see Misty for a minute. She’s an old friend, and I simply
must
get her recipe for these sweet rolls!” I fluttered and tried to look innocent.

He flashed a smile, gave my arm a little pat, and they all trooped out.

Ed was bringing up the rear, and after the others were gone he gave me a knowing look and muttered, “I expect a call from you in one hour telling me what you got out of her.”

I winked.

Then I grabbed a set of notes from the table and went in search of the kitchen.

“Hello Misty,” I said when I found her. She was standing at the kitchen sink. “I just thought I’d let you know – you’re busted.”

“Bernie Horning, as I live and breathe, how
are
you, dear? I should’ve known you’d come around. Are you doing an article? Take all the pictures you want. But first, come on over and have a seat. We haven’t talked in ages.” She grabbed a checkered dish cloth and started drying her hands.

“Thanks. I will.”

She brought coffee, and we sat down at a little breakfast table by a window. The kitchen was a cheerful yellow, with lots of gingham: café curtains, placemats, and for Misty, a hand-made apron. I always liked gingham. It’s all squares, but somehow, it smiles.

“What do you mean, busted?” she asked as she sat down.

“They know you lied about never knowing a thing about the house before you bought it.”

She didn’t seem troubled. “I figured they’d find out, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? They want to do their show, and the house has a history.”

“But no ghosts. Can I quote you on that?” I said with a grin.

“Bernie you behave yourself. Of course we have a ghost. Here, help yourself.” I waved off the plate of sweet rolls she was offering me.

“No thanks. Is this a new look for you, Misty?” Her hair was different, kind of a bob, with thick bangs. What’s with the high heels in the kitchen?”

“I feel like a new woman since Teddy got here. You know, I thought I’d have trouble wearing high heels, but these are so comfortable, and they make me feel – like a lady. I just love that feeling, and Teddy definitely noticed. He took me out for dinner last night. To Thirty-Nine.”

“Hmmm. While his so-called fiancé was by herself at the diner. You’re not putting the moves on him are you?”

She laughed and fluttered like something at a cotillion. “Of course not, but for the first time in years, I feel like I
have
some moves. Buying this house was the best thing I ever did. I can’t believe a celebrity like Teddy Force is actually doing a show on
my
B&B. I have to pinch myself. That’s kind of a new look for you too, Bernie,” she added doubtfully.

Before she could start giving me fashion tips, I laughed it off and said, “Oh, this? I keep these clothes for times when I want to look older than I am.”

“Why would you want to look older than you are?”

“You know, like a sweet old thing, so people will be very, very nice to me and then forget I’m there.”

She nodded doubtfully. “I see.”

She didn’t, but I wanted to start getting information for my article, so I got down to business.

“Now, Misty – how are things going here at The Royal Palm? Tell me all about it.”

“Oh, they couldn’t be better. It’s so wonderful to have my son with me again. For a while there, I was worried about him. He got himself mixed up with this awful woman. Really, it’s such a blessing that he’s come back home.”

“And everything else is going well here? Have you been getting more hits on your website now that there’s a reality show getting ready to film here?”

“Oh, we must be,” she said vaguely. “And I’ve even managed to find a girl to do the rooms – finally! Her name is Jane.”

“Jane? I don’t know any Janes.”

“She’s not from around here. She comes from Alabama. She answered the ad in your paper.”

I preened. “If you want to reach the heart of the community, trust
The Beach Buzz
. How’s she working out?”

“Oh, just fine, just fine. She knows what she’s doing. I just had to show her how we set the counterpane before arranging the shams.”

“You got her tucking in the top sheet so when you pull it out, the bottom sheet comes out too and you have to remake the bed before you can get in it? I hate that.”

“But that’s how it’s done in the hotel industry,” she said primly.

“Why don’t you cause a revolution and just let the top sheet hang?”

“Oh, Bernie, you’re joking! And of course, she needed guidance about the washcloths.”

“What about the washcloths?”

“She was setting them over the bath towels instead of rolling them and arranging them in the little baskets. I’m going for a floral effect, with multi-colored washcloths, and when you put them with the towels, they just look mismatched. But she’ll catch on. Paul is supervising her work to make sure it’s up to our standards.”

“You’ll have to let me get a picture of the rolled-up washcloths for the paper. Listen, Misty – back to the ghosts – have you really had any experiences?”

“Oh, yes!” she said in a gush that made me disbelieve her. “A lady is walking this house at night. I’ve seen her! Or anyway, at least, I’ve felt her. At first I thought it was just the cat.”

Startled, I looked around. “You have a cat?”

“Not yet.”

I tried to hang in there. “You thought it was a cat that you don’t have yet?”

She laughed. “No silly!” She proceeded to give me a song-and-dance about a big black cat with green eyes that had been hanging around. When she mentioned that she had been feeding it, the mystery was solved, as far as I was concerned. I was more interested in the bumps in the night
inside
the house.

“But you mentioned a lady,” I said, working to get her back on track. “Why a lady, if you haven’t seen her? Has Paul seen her?”

She laughed. “Men aren’t sensitive to these things. Except for Teddy.”

“And Ed.”

“Oh, Ed,” she said dismissively.

“He’s been at it longer than Teddy,” I said, standing up for my pal. “And at least he does research.”

“Oh, Teddy does research. He asked me all about my experience in the gallery. He’s so good, he actually had me reliving it, as if it were happening right then. It was so exciting!”

“I bet it was. You know, Ed found out that the girl who threw herself from the gallery did it in the middle of the afternoon. Have you ever felt anything up in the gallery around three in the afternoon?”

“She’s walking at
night
. I’ve
felt
her. I suppose it would be more difficult to pick up their vibrations during the day,” she said, waxing analytical. “In the daytime, ghosts would have to compete with all kinds of noise and traffic and distractions. At night, they’re more obvious. Well! Do you want to take some pictures of the rooms? Teddy’s people are using four of them, but I have eight. We can look at the unoccupied ones.”

“I don’t think we can go upstairs. Teddy and his gang are planning their big moment up there, and they don’t want the Press giving away spoilers.”

“The Violet is on this floor and it’s all done up and ready. I think it’s the prettiest of them all, though not the biggest. It has a view of the garden through French doors. When the Allens lived here, they had his mother in that room, because she couldn’t climb the stairs. Her first name was Violet, and I named the room after her. So I’ve done the room in shades of purple and put African violets on the desk and in the bathroom. They do very well, if you keep them out of direct sunlight.”

She chattered on as we went into The Violet and I started taking pictures. It really was a nice room, and I complimented Misty on her decorating. The African violets were blooming, the bed was soft and flouncy-looking with pillows all over the place and a homey-looking quilt, and the washcloths were definitely rolled. The carpet was a gorgeous shade of lavender, like the highlights in an amethyst.

“Jane seems to have done a good job in here,” I commented.

“Oh, yes. She’s very particular, once you show her what to do. There was just that one little spill, but it cleaned up all right.”

“She spilled something?”

“Somehow she spilled the glass cleaner all over the rug. And herself. The cap got loose on the spray bottle. I’ve never known that to happen before, but things like that do happen, I guess. It was in this room, over here.” She led me to an old-fashioned vanity with an oval tilt mirror.

The spot was about six inches long and it still looked wet, but it wasn’t. That wasn’t coming out, and it was a shame, because the carpet was very new. I tried to visualize the cap coming off a spray bottle and the contents spilling in a gush, and I couldn’t. You’d have that pipe thing in the way. Jane might be a treasure, but she was also a klutz.

“She spilled it on the floor and all over herself, too?” I asked.

“She said she looked in the mirror and saw something that startled her.”

“What?”

“She wasn’t sure. For a split-second she thought somebody was standing behind her. Anyway, it cleaned up all right. And she brings a backpack instead of a purse, like the kids do these days, and she keeps a set of clean clothes in it, so she just changed her top. No harm done. Oh, come on in, dear. Bernie, this is my son Paul. I don’t know if you’ve met him?”

I hadn’t. Not formally anyway. I’d only seen him slouching in a chair playing video games at a Chamber of Commerce meeting.

He came across the room and shook hands with me. He was one of those big, awkward young men who won’t stand up straight. I always want to crack people like that across the back of the head and tell them to straighten up. He was tall, and he would’ve been attractive if he’d projected any self-confidence.

“It’ll come out,” he said, looking at the spot in the carpet. “She’s really a good girl.”

“Oh, yes. We just love her,” Misty added, gazing at the spot.

I began to suspect that their Jane was a walking disaster, and they were only keeping her because they were desperate. If she had to keep clean clothes in her backpack, she spilled things on herself a lot.

“Where is Jane?” I asked. “Can I meet her?”

“She had an appointment with the dentist this morning,” Misty said. “Paul’s doing the rooms today.”

“I see.” I summed it up quickly in my own head: She’d just been hired, she worked mainly in the morning, this would have been her first day to do some real work, and she had a dentist appointment she couldn’t change to the afternoon so she could go to her
new
job. And she spills things. Things that cause permanent spots. I’m just sayin’.

“It’s just for today,” Misty said. “She promised she’d make all her appointments in the afternoon from now on. Isn’t that right, Paul?”

He was still staring at the spot. “Yeah. She did.”