The Realm of the Shadows (Tropical Breeze Cozy Mystery Book 2) (4 page)

“I beg your pardon,” said the tramp, joining the fray.

Still unfazed, Teddy turned to her and said, “This is my costar, Jazz Lee.”

“Your bimbo, you mean,” Ed said, looking right at her.

The bimbo turned and gave Ed an acid smile. She was dressed in a black pencil skirt and spike heels, which I was amused to see were sinking into the sand. Her filmy white blouse was looking droopy and damp, and so was her unnaturally black hair. She had a very small face – cute, if you like the waif look – and was wearing New York red lipstick, which made her nasty smile so much more effective. She was wearing thin, black-framed, naughty-intellectual glasses, and behind them, her eyeliner was so black and all- around- her-eyes that she might have been a silent film actress.

“On the catwalk!” Ed went on, his voice rising, “Right on the catwalk of the lighthouse, under a full moon.
Really
, Teddy? Way up high in the air where anybody with a telescope – and there are people with telescopes around here, you know, looking at ships and – stuff – and could see you two hopping around –“

“It was an experiment,” Teddy said with astonishing dignity. “I thought perhaps the primitive energy of –“

“Oh, just stop!” Ed said, and he actually covered his ears, maybe so he couldn’t hear Teddy, maybe so his head wouldn’t explode. “Nobody’s buying it. The presences in the lighthouse – they have dignity! They have rights. They were nice folks and they still are, especially the girls. Then you go stomping around hamming it up for the camera through an infrared filter – and just for your information, infrared does not make your eyes hypnotic –“

“
Who told you that
?” he shouted.

“That producer who quit when you grabbed her knockers. Oh! Sorry Taylor.”

“I’ll sue her!” Teddy roared.

“Aren’t we straying from the point here?” I interjected. I looked at Michael and saw traces of mirth, which he quickly swallowed when he saw me looking.

Charlie had come up by then, armed with an impressive two-foot wrench. “I swear to God, if they try to get to
her
. . . .”

I did a double-take, but I had too much else on my mind at the moment to consider his attitude. Just at that stage of things, I was glad to have reinforcements. I peeked around the massive reality show star to see what else was behind him, and there were members of Charlie’s crew holding Teddy’s crew at bay in a line that kept them back from the barn and the cemetery, both.

“Just what are you trying to accomplish here?” I asked.

“I thought I’d explained that,” he said, focusing on me and getting smarmy again. I imagine some women actually fall for him. “We’re in the area investigating a historically haunted site, and we heard about the activity here at Chattsworth Villa.”

“It’s
Cadbury
House
,” I said.

“Right. The Cadburys,” he said, trying to smooth me along and get something out of me. “They had great wealth and influence, didn’t they? Was that because of stolen treasure from an ancient tomb?”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Michael, will you hit him with a habeas corpus or something? Get rid of him!”

“I am ordering you off this property,” Michael intoned, as if he were uttering magic words.

They did the trick. The assembly of stars, groupies and goofballs began to straggle toward their trucks.

“All right,” one of them called, “but you can’t keep this thing under wraps forever. Sooner or later, you’re going to need us. A haunting can’t be denied or ignored.” I noticed that the cameras were rolling.

Teddy was pleased. “When the time comes,” he said to me as if we were alone, “call me. I’m here to help.”

“You’re nothing but a ghost ‘ho’,” Ed snapped. “You’ll do anything to get your face on TV.”

Teddy turned to him as if he’d waited for this moment. “Cute. Just for your information, little fella, do you happen to know what we call you in the
real
paranormal community? Edson Darby-Deaver, the Unbeliever. Because you never met a ghost you couldn’t deny.”

Laughter erupted around the show’s vehicles.

Ed looked as if he’d been slapped. He turned red. He rose within himself with quiet dignity. “I’ve heard. Just because I’m not a fool for a luminous orb that’s really a shaft of light reflecting off somebody’s earring doesn’t mean I don’t have an open mind.”

“Don’t let your mind get too open,” Teddy said, composing his exit line on the fly. “It might just fall out.”

The cameras caught it, and the videographer looked around the viewfinder at Teddy and gave him a thumb’s up.

As I expected, Teddy got into the sexy sports car with the little logo, and Jazz mounted the pink camouflage driver’s seat of the Jeep. A dumpy little guy got into the company van and the others sorted themselves into their vehicles and they all drove away. We watched the caravan of vehicles until they were out of sight and we were sure they weren’t coming back. Then the tension broke, and I took a look around the yard. I could already see trash they’d left behind: a cup from a fast foot joint, an empty plastic bag, and down at my feet, cigarette butts. Charlie was scrupulous about his crew’s behavior, and I knew it hadn’t been his guys. Nothing like that had been left around during the time they’d been working for us. I was too angry to deal with it then. We retreated to the house and passed out the iced teas, wine and beer. I figured the crew deserved a cold one after defending the property like a tool-belted platoon.

Michael toasted Ed, Charlie and the crew, saying, “Well done, men,” then took a sip of his wine.

“Yes.” I saluted with my iced tea. “Thank you so much. Ed, have you ever met that phony in person before?”

“We’ve run into one another at various conferences. I did a panel on Spirit Photography with him once. But ever since the incident with the poltergeist, we’ve been – um – at odds.”

“What poltergeist?” I asked.

One of the crewmen spoke up over his beer. “Mr. D-D here made a fool of Teddy, and there’s been bad blood between them ever since.”

The men laughed. I was mystified. “What was that all about?” I asked, hiking myself up on a tall chair at the breakfast bar.

“You don’t watch that show?”

I gave him a withering look. “Not voluntarily. They had it on one of the TVs over at The Oasis one time, and I couldn’t believe it.”

“Nobody really watches it, except to laugh,” the man told me. He was one of the electricians – what was his name? – Paul.

“Tell me more, Paul,” I said, since Ed obviously didn’t want to talk about it.

“It was his biggest ‘get’ – the internet blew up, and it looked like ol’ Teddy might even go main stream. They said he was negotiating with one of the big networks for a really big production-type show. Then Mr. D-D, here proved that it was all a hoax by a very-much alive 11-year old girl living in the house, who was just throwing things around and dropping stuff she had hidden in her clothes. She’d be like, ‘What’s that over there?’ and while everybody looked away, a lamp would fall over two feet away from her. Teddy Force got outwitted by an 11-year old. He nearly lost his show.”

“But they’ve got cameras and crew members all over the place when they’re filming,” I said. “Didn’t anybody catch her?”

“They didn’t want to catch her,” Blake said. (He’s one of the carpenters.)

Ed reluctantly spoke up. “I think Teddy’s for real – I mean, I think
he
thinks it’s all real. As for his crew, I think they just hide their tricks from him, and he’s either fooled by it, or he turns a blind eye. I never wanted to interfere with his show. But the story was so big I had to investigate, and when I found out the truth I had to report it. I never thought his TV contract would be in jeopardy. I just assumed they knew the show was fake and didn’t care, as long as it got ratings.”

“He did this apology show,” Tripp said, picking up the story. “Cried and everything, just like a televangelist, going on and on about his commitment to bringing the restless dead to their eternal sleep, or some bull – some nonsense. He managed to keep his show, but the ratings went away. He’s sort of on probation now, I heard. They might renew the show and they might not. So he needs another big story or he’s toast. That’s probably why he ran over here as soon as word started getting around. He’s desperate.”

“I blame myself,” Ed said, and everybody turned to him. He’d taken a glass of wine, and I could already see that he shouldn’t have. He was getting morose. “When I was a kid, I took up magic. I mean, I started doing magic
tricks
. You know – just for fun. I started thinking in terms of misdirection, manipulation – fooling people. It became a habit of the mind – analyzing how tricks are done – being skeptical. Now I can’t stop it, and I guess I don’t want to. I don’t want to be fooled. I want to be inspired. I want the real thing. But, it’s been so long. I’m beginning to think –“

He couldn’t go on.

I slid off my barstool and went to him, taking his wineglass. “Let me get you some coffee, Ed.”

“Listen folks,” Charlie said, and everybody settled and gave him their attention. “Those fools aren’t just going to go away. That man is looking for redemption, and if he gets ahold of what’s going on here, he won’t quit. We need to work out a schedule to keep a watch. They’re most likely to come sneaking around at night.”

The men all began to shuffle around and mutter excuses, and I couldn’t blame them. They worked all day, and didn’t want to stay up fending off ghost-hunters all night.

“I’ll be here,” I said, making an instant decision. “I’ll move into the house. I may as well; I’m renting it already.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Michael said.

Some of the men grinned like high-school kids, but most of them behaved like adults.

“Good,” I said. I, too, behaved like an adult. But I felt like a high-school kid.

“And I’ll take the cemetery,” Ed said. “I’ve been staking it out at night anyway.”

“I’ll take the barn,” Charlie said grimly.

“Charlie!” I said. “You can’t work all day and then guard the barn all night. When are you going to sleep? And do you really want to be out there alone at night after – you know – after that thing happened?”

“He won’t be alone,” Tripp piped up. “I’m coming with him. We’ll camp out in the barn. We haven’t gone camping in a while, right Dad?”

Charlie gazed at his son with pride.

As if they’d been shamed into it, some of the men said they’d try to stay some of the nights, and we had our night watch assembled.

They finished their beers and got back to work. The men still wouldn’t go into the barn, but I had asked them to make some modifications to the old servants’ cabins so we could at least start moving the cats. I had a plan for sorting them into groups: adoptables, ferals, and separately, feline AIDS.

After the men had left the house, Ed, Michael and I were left looking at one another.

“Well,” I said, “I’d better get back to the shelter and explain things, then pack a bag at my house.”

“Right,” Michael said. “First you’d better drive me back to town. I’ll come back here in my own car later, after I’ve packed a few things.”

Suddenly inspired, I said, “Ed, if it’d be more convenient for you, would you like to have a room here in the house so you don’t have to keep driving back to St. Augustine every day?”

He thought about it. “It’s only a half-hour drive, but still . . . I’ll need my computer and some equipment, but it’s all portable.”

“And don’t forget underwear and socks,” I said.

“What? Oh. Right. Say, Taylor, did you happen to notice that Charlie’s attitude toward the entity in the barn has kind of – changed?”

“You mean, instead of looking afraid of her, he’s suddenly protective of her?”

“Right.”

“Is that something to worry about? I mean, do people adopt ghosts, or whatever?”

“Sometimes.” He looked troubled. He hesitated. Then at last he said, “Does Charlie have a wife?”

I laughed. “Are you serious? No, she left him years ago. She took off and left him with Tripp to raise. That’s probably why they’re so close. As far as I know there’s no woman in Charlie’s life. Ed, you’re giving me the creeps. Is this going to be a problem?”

“Probably not,” he said, still pensive. “But people have been known . . . .“

“What?”

“To fall in love with ghosts. It’s rare, but it happens.”

“Well,” Michael said, coming between us, “we’ll just have to concentrate on getting Charlie a real flesh-and-blood lady, so he doesn’t get weird about a ghost.”

Michael seemed to think it was a joke. Ed and I didn’t.

When I got home after dropping Michael off at his house, there was an emergency at the shelter. We had recently acquired a young bulldog named Porter, and he was testing the limits. He wasn’t a bad dog. He was just maniacally cheerful and didn’t know his own strength.

When I’d first heard that we’d gotten a bulldog, I’d pictured a
French
Bulldog – a comfortable little armful of roly-poly doggy with a pushed-in face and frantic eyes. Porter is an
English
Bulldog. Stick a cigar in his mouth and you’ve got Winston Churchill with paws. He snorts, he slimes, he chugs like a locomotive, he’s a 60-pound rolling mass of muscle that can knock a man down and keep on going.

The family with small children that had bought him as a funny little puppy could no longer control him once he was full-grown, so they brought him to us.

Porter had arrived at Orphans of the Storm, and havoc reigned.

Porter will not be bound by the rules of man, and no chain can hold him. If he manages to get a leash away from his handler, he not only chews the leather to pieces, you have to pick up the remains with paper towels to get rid of it, a Bulldog’s sinuses being what they are. Our little teenaged volunteer, Stacey, had lost her hold on Porter’s leash while trying to walk him, and when I arrived I found Stacey and two other volunteers pounding around the dog run yelling while Porter cheerfully romped around, pausing occasionally to shake the leash like he was killing a snake.

“
Porter
!” I screamed from the other side of the fence.

He was happy to see me. He thundered on over to say hi, but the game was too good to stop and he ran past me, showing me the whites of his eyes as he went by. When the action moved away from the gate, I let myself in and joined the show.

So that took about fifteen minutes, and the clean-up took another half hour. By the time I got across the yard between the shelter and my house, I saw that Michael had parked in my driveway and was waiting for me.

“I thought you were meeting me at Cadbury House,” I said, walking up. “Why didn’t you join the rodeo over there? We could’ve used another cowboy.”

“Porter again?”

“Who else?”

I had my own personal pet with me on a leash, a Shepherd-mix named Shiloh, and Michael gave her an affectionate pat on the head and tickle under the chin. I’d left her at the shelter building that morning, since I knew I’d be making several stops, wouldn’t be back in time for a potty break, and didn’t want to leave her in the car. She seemed to understand that I’d be back for her, and never got anxious if I left her in one of our suites while I was away from home. I’ve found that many shelter animals are very adaptable to changing situations. They’ve been bounced around in life, and they’re happy as long as their new human will only be kind to them. I was still trying to work out whether she was coming with me to Cadbury House, with all the mayhem that was going on there just now.

“
She’s a gooood girl
,” Michael crooned, like he always does. Then he straightened up and looked at me, becoming serious.

“What now?” I asked.

He indicated the house. “We’d better go inside and sit down. You’re not going to like this.”

We sat at my little breakfast table.

“All right, I’m sitting down. What is it?”

He hesitated, though he’d had plenty of time to assemble his words. It was a strategic pause, meant to give me time to brace myself.

“I had a call from Graeme while I was at my house packing.”

“
Graeme
?” Graeme Cadbury Huntington, my landlord. “I thought he was climbing a mountain in Borneo or something.”

“Kathmandu. He’s at base camp one. At least that’s what I think he said. I didn’t quite get it, but he was able to use a satellite phone. Apparently, Teddy Force has been busy pulling strings since we threw him off the property.”

“What strings?”

“His father. It turns out that Teddy’s father and Graeme went to college together, and were in the same fraternity. Brothers forever. That kind of thing. And Graeme thinks a ghost hunt would be good for promoting Tropical Breeze for tourism.”

I was aghast. “Did you reason with him?”

“Of course I did, but he had a few good points. A show like that could put Tropical Breeze on the map.”

“Is that the kind of map we want to be on?”

“Every city in Florida wants to be on that map. Maybe not the town folk, particularly, but every city council of every little town is looking for things that work, and these days, haunted places work.”

“I can’t believe this! Have you talked to Edson Darby-Deaver yet?”

“He’s the least of my worries. I called him and told him how it was going to be, and if he’s not happy, I don’t care.”

“He’s
not
happy,” I said decisively.

Michael thought a moment. “I don’t know. He protested and argued and blustered, but I got the feeling that the longer we talked and the more time he had to grasp the situation, the more he was looking forward to challenging Teddy again.”

“Oh, great! That’s all we need. The battle of the ghost-hunters. I don’t think I can handle this, Michael.”

“I don’t like it either, but we’re just going to have to accept it. Graeme did come up with one good thought: we could set up ghost walks on the property for the benefit of the shelter. Graeme actually suggested that himself. He was just spit-balling, but it could work, Taylor.”

I sat back and stared at him. “Do you like this idea, Michael?”

“No. But Graeme does own the property. I don’t think he’d try to break the lease if you dug your heels in and refused to let the
Realm of the Shadows
people onto the property, but let’s at least think about it. Cool off and consider it. It could mean another income stream for the shelter.”

“But – the haunted place is the barn, and that’s where we’re planning on putting the dogs! How are we going to work that out?”

“You know how people are. Once they see Cadbury House on TV with some ‘expert’ calling it a haunted place, they’ll show up in droves and get a cheap thrill out of it no matter where you take them on the property. Why not capitalize on it? All we have to do is hire an actor who can dress up like an Edwardian undertaker, carry a lantern on a pole, and take people to the cemetery and around the yard in the dark. Give them a few chills. Who knows – maybe they’ll even adopt a dog while they’re there.”

“Lame. I can’t do adoptions under those circumstances! And has Graeme actually considered using his family’s cemetery as a tourist attraction?”

“I don’t think so, but he’s got other things on his mind right now. He was screaming into the phone in a high wind at the other side of the world, and we didn’t stay on the phone very long. I don’t think he has worked through the ramifications.”

“Can you call him back?”

“No. He was leaving base camp soon, and the satellite phone doesn’t belong to him. Our buddy Lorenzo Sforza got to him on somebody else’s phone, which shows you how resourceful he is.”

“Our buddy
who
?”

“Lorenzo Sforza. He’s Teddy Force’s father. Teddy’s real name is Teodoro Sforza.”

I stared at the wall behind Michael, hating the whole ridiculous development.

Michael reached across the table for my hand. When I didn’t respond, he gave Shiloh another little pat on the head. “I’m sorry, Taylor. Don’t take it out on me. I’m on your side, but I have to listen to my client, and you should listen to your landlord. The landlord-tenant relationship is just beginning. Let’s not get it off to a bad start.”

“I’m going to pack,” I said, standing up. “Let me just cool off. When we get over to Cadbury House we’ll talk.”

Shiloh came into the bedroom with me, got up on the bed and watched me with worried eyes as I packed. I had to figure out what to do with her for a few days, since there was no way I could take her to Cadbury House, I realized. Like many shelter animals, she was afraid of men, cowering if she even heard their voices, and when the TV crew arrived and spilled all over the grounds, in addition to Charlie’s crew, she’d be terrified.

I gave the shelter’s receptionist, Angie Kelly, a quick call, explained the situation, and asked if she could house-and-dog-sit for me. She lived alone in a trailer home, and I was hoping she’d enjoy having her commute to work shortened from a drive across town to a walk across the yard.

“There’s a key to my house in my office desk over there,” I told her, holding the phone against my ear with my shoulder as I used my hands to pack.

“I know. You told me years ago. I’ve never used it, but I know where it is.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Angie. You’re a lifesaver.”

So that was all right. Angie promised she’d be over in two hours, when her shift was over, so I said good-bye to Shiloh, left her in the house and rolled my suitcase out to the car, explaining the arrangement to Michael as we went.

When we arrived at Cadbury House, the
Realm of the Shadows
crew was there ahead of us, setting up. They must have pulled off the road somewhere around Bing’s Landing and waited while Teddy pulled his strings, then turned right around and headed back.

“I’m sorry, Ed, that’s just the way it is,” I said at the dashboard of my car as I turned onto the dirt road leading to Cadbury House. I have one of those cars that hijacks your phone.

“I can’t say I’m really surprised,” Ed said morosely. “That’s Teddy’s style.”

“Well, there isn’t any point in standing guard at the cemetery tonight. They’ll be filming, so nobody who’s thinking of digging up graves is going to be creeping around while that’s going on.”

I could almost hear the steam coming out of his ears. “All right. I guess that makes sense. Let me warn you, though, Teddy thinks like a clever 3-year old. You’ll never figure out what he’s going to do next, so just keep an eye on him.”

“Oh, and there’s something else,” I said, deciding to pile it on while I was at it. “I promised Bernie Horning she could interview you about your work at Cadbury House.”

He groaned. “You brought in the press?”

“Well, sorta. Bernie’s paper is pretty small potatoes, and everybody in town knows something is going on already, so I didn’t think it would do any harm. Just don’t let her really get anything out of you if you can help it. Pretend I’m sitting there glaring at you. Spin stories. Tell her about other investigations, and use a lot of paranormal jargon. Bore her. Maybe she’ll give up.”

“Not likely.”

“And don’t call her. Let her call you. Maybe she’ll forget.”

“That’s a joke, right?”

I said yes, and pushed the red hang-up button.

Looking in my rear-view mirror as I got close to the house, I saw Michael’s car coming along behind me, so I waited for him after I parked.

We walked up to the house together, rolling our suitcases along behind us.

Teddy came running across the yard. “Hey, thanks, guys. I hope we’re all squared away and singing off the same hymn book now. It’s going to be a great show! The history of this house . . . .” He looked up at the roof as if there were a ghost sitting up there now waiting for his cue.

Michael brushed by him, saying, “As far as I know there’s no history of haunting in this house, but knock yourselves out.”

Teddy followed us right into the house and stood in the kitchen while we turned to stare at him.

“Look, I know we got off to a bad start. I was hoping to get this done without bothering the Cadbury family, or – you know – pulling strings. Not my style. I’m a straight shooter, always have been.”

I scowled. “If you’re such a straight shooter, why didn’t you just tell us up front that you had connections and were prepared to use them?”

He gave me the innocent green eyes. “It never occurred to me that you wouldn’t want our help with your problem.” When he saw the look on my face, he quickly dropped the act. “But as long as it’s all right with Graeme, I don’t see why you should have a problem.” Not breaking eye contact, in a smooth motion he brought a communication device up to his face. “Okay, Jazz, bring it in. We’re ready.”

“If you want to call a meeting, we’ll discuss this outside. Taylor and I are just moving in, and the crew won’t be coming into the house for the duration of the shoot. Am I understood?”

“Not yet, of course,” Teddy said, acting subjectively if not literally deaf. We heard the door, then Jazz came mincing up behind him with a suitcase, which she set on the kitchen counter and opened.

She handed a document to Michael and said, “If you’ll just sign this, as the representative of the Cadbury family.”

Michael took it and frowned at it, reading.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s a release,” he muttered.

I didn’t see how he had any choice but to sign it, but he was damn well going to read it first.

“We need to do a little red-lining here,” he said at last. “I want to see the final product before you broadcast.”