The Skeleton Haunts a House (11 page)

Before I could spout my cover story, which was about as lame as most of the ones I'd devised, I got help from an unexpected quarter. Edwina said, “What difference does it make, Vivi? Deborah will tell her sister everything that happens anyway.” Erika nodded in agreement.

Since either Deborah or I could fill a good-sized hard drive with things we'd never told each other, apparently Edwina and Erika were closer than we were. Maybe it was a twin thing. But since the other McQuaids were only children, they had no other basis for comparison, which may be why they let it slide.

“Of course Dr. Thackery is welcome,” Beatrice said. “Deborah, I asked you to come over so we could discuss your plans for McHades Hall.”

“I don't have any plans,” Deborah said. “Until the police clear the building, I can't reopen.”

Vivienne said, “That's ridiculous. They've had the building under their control for days. Do they think the murderer is still hiding in there?”

“I'm sure they're just being thorough,” Beatrice said, “but I agree that it's unreasonable of them to interfere for much longer. It's important that we reopen this weekend.”

So much for my theory that they wanted to keep McHades closed. I would have thought Deborah would be glad about that, but of course, she is Deborah.

She said, “Even if the police sign off on reopening, I'm not sure we should.”

“Of course you'll reopen!” Vivienne said. “Why wouldn't you?”

“A young woman died in there. Don't you think it would be in poor taste to turn a murder site into a Halloween attraction?”

“Actually,” Paige drawled, “you already have. There was a knife fight in the building decades ago, and one of the boys involved died. Also a young woman fell down the stairs and while on her death bed claimed that she'd been pushed.”

Beatrice looked annoyed. “Paige is the family historian, but she knows full well that those incidents are neither here nor there. What's important is that the house reopen in order to raise the funds for next year's McQuaid Scholars awards. While that girl's death is a tragedy, depriving those students of their opportunity to attend McQuaid would only make it worse.”

“It's only October—couldn't the committee put together
some other fundraising events in time to pay for the scholarships?” Deborah asked.

“I suppose we could,” Beatrice said as casually as if they'd only have to search the sofa cushions for spare change, “but McHades Hall has been a tradition for how long now, Paige?”

“Eleven years,” she said. “We McQuaids are simply slaves to tradition.”

“Maybe we can name a scholarship after the dead girl,” Erika said, giving Edwina a chance to nod emphatically.

“I'm sure that would be a great comfort to the family,” Deborah said drily.

Beatrice said, “Erika, dear, we'll table that idea while we work on getting the haunted house running.”

“Look, it's not my decision,” Deborah said. “It's up to the cops.”

“Who's in charge of the investigation?” Vivienne asked.

“Sergeant Louis Raymond.”

“Call that idiot, Bea, and make him let Deborah reopen the place.”

“I haven't said I'd reopen the haunt,” Deborah said, her jaw set. Though I doubted the Quintet could tell, I knew she was mad. Part of it was their assuming she'd do what they wanted to, but I was pretty sure most of it was from Vivienne insulting Louis.

“What are you talking about? You have to reopen!”

I recognized Vivienne's tone. I'd heard it all too often from the helicopter parents who swooped in whenever a student didn't make the grade Mommy or Daddy insisted they deserved and moreover, needed to get into med school or law school or whatever. The fact that the grade had to be earned, not just demanded, left them as indignant as Vivienne was. I was sure there was a threat coming next, something about
making sure that Deborah never worked in this town again, but Beatrice was smarter than that.

She said, “You did make a commitment, Deborah, but I realize that circumstances have changed, and that this has been difficult for you. It's just that we can't imagine who would be able to handle the situation as well as you have, or be able to pick up the reins. We'll understand if you're too distraught, but if you could see your way to continuing to run the project, we'd certainly let people in this town know how seriously you take your commitments.”

It was all praise and bribe, no threat at all, which impressed me. It also made me wonder why Beatrice was spreading all that soft soap. Maybe the McQuaids weren't planning to reclaim the university's real estate, but perhaps there was something more at stake than bragging rights.

I could see that Deborah was about to agree, but I said, “Do you mind if Deborah and I step outside to discuss it? My daughter is one of her scare actors, and I want to share my perspective before she makes up her mind.”

“Of course,” the twins said simultaneously, then giggled. They were moving from cute to scary.

Deborah raised one eyebrow, but when I pointedly looked at my bag, she got the idea and said, “We'll just go into the hall for five, if that's okay.”

“Certainly,” Beatrice said.

I left the bag—and Sid—behind to follow my sister into the hall, closing the door behind us.

“What do you think?” Deborah said, and I knew it was for the Quintet's benefit, not mine.

“Well, you did make a commitment, and we've both seen some very promising scholars forced to leave school or go to a lesser university because of not having sufficient financial support. It would be a shame if McQuaid lost those students.”

“That's true. My heart just aches for that poor girl's family. It was such a terrible thing. Really terrible.”

I very much hoped nobody was eavesdropping, because we were terrible improvisers, but I played along for another five minutes until Deborah concluded our performance with, “I think I should carry on, despite the really terrible thing that happened.”

Then she tapped at the door to the study.

Beatrice answered promptly, but I couldn't be sure that she'd been listening in.

We all took our seats again, and Deborah said, “Now that I've thought it over, I want to continue on as head of the haunt, but I do have conditions. One, obviously the police have to agree.”

Vivienne started to speak, but Beatrice jumped in with, “I'll talk to them and make sure they've completed their examination. If they need more resources, I'll see if I can make that happen.”

“Good enough. Two, my actors and crew may not be willing to come back or their parents may not want them coming back. I won't try to talk anybody into it.”

“Of course not,” Beatrice said. “If necessary, we'll help you recruit new people. Or perhaps offer higher pay.”

“Three, I want security cameras. I'll use my connections to get them cheap and install them myself, but the committee will have to pay for them.”

I was expecting the cousins to balk at the expense, but Beatrice said, “That's reasonable. I'm sure they'd make both customers and crew members feel more secure.”

Deborah blinked, no doubt as surprised as I was at how quickly Beatrice had folded.

But before she could accept the terms, I added, “And four, Kendall Fitzroy's parents have to be consulted. They shouldn't read about the haunt reopening in the paper, and
they can't be allowed to think that anybody has forgotten their loss.”

“You're absolutely right,” Beatrice said. “Vivienne knows them well, and we'll speak to them before we move any further.”

“Then we have a deal,” Deborah said.

“Thank you for your dedication,” Beatrice said, and there were similar sentiments expressed all around. “We'll be in touch when I've had a chance to speak with the Fitzroys and the police.”

She escorted us out, and this time I made sure to take my bag.

“That was odd,” I said once we were in the car.

“What? Rich people wanting things done their way? Nothing odd about that.”

“I mean that they really do want the haunt opened instead of having an excuse to reclaim that property.”

“I told you, they'd rather have something to make a big deal about than more money.”

“You're both wrong,” Sid said from inside my bag. “Let me out and I'll tell you the real story.”

I opened it, and pulled Sid's skull out to put on my lap, hoping that we didn't encounter any vehicles tall enough for the driver to look down and see him.

“Spill, Sid!”

“The McQuaids do want the haunt reopened—”

“That's what I said,” Deborah said.

“But you don't know why. The bequest is involved—”

“Which was my theory,” I said.

“But it's not involved the way you thought,” Sid said. “Now both of you stop interrupting!”

“Sorry,” I said. Deborah grunted.

“The Quintet knows about the bequest, but they don't
want it revoked because the building wouldn't come to them.” He paused dramatically, so I figured I was supposed to ask him a question.

“If not to the McQuaids, then to whom?”

“Oh, it would go to a McQuaid, just not any of those McQuaids. There's another McQuaid. Nobody knows where he is, but he's the real heir.”

“H
old on, there are more McQuaids around?” Deborah made a face. “Isn't that batch enough?”

“Tell us what you heard, Sid,” I said.

He cleared his throat, or rather made a useless throat-clearing noise. “As soon as you left— Leaving me in there to eavesdrop was a great move, by the way.”

“Thank you, but you can compliment me later.”

“As soon as you two left, Vivienne said something like, ‘This is ridiculous. She has to run the haunted house because we'll never be able to find somebody else fast enough. You'll have to make her do it, Beatrice!' Then Paige asked how they could be sure you two weren't in league with
him
. The twins, who I can't tell apart, said they'd be humiliated if
he
came back and destroyed the family's legacy, and that they'd have to leave town. Then they all fussed about how
he
had even found out about the will, and there were some accusations back and forth about who it was who'd given away the secret. Vivienne blamed Paige, because Paige discovered the clause
in the first place, and Paige blamed Vivienne for telling somebody. It turns out that the twins don't have a hive mind after all because one went along with Vivienne while the other agreed with Paige.

“Eventually Beatrice calmed them all down. She said that she was sure Deborah would reopen the house if they didn't push her too hard, and that Paige was just being paranoid because there was no reason to believe you two even know about the will. Of course you do, but I wasn't going to tell them that. As for
him
, she said, ‘If our long-lost uncle shows up, we'll do what we have to.'”

“A long-lost uncle?” I said.

“I know, isn't it just too
Downton Abbey
!” Sid said. “I thought I knew the whole McQuaid family tree, but I sure missed that branch.”

I said, “I don't know how Sara Weiss finds out the things she finds out, but she's got some great sources. Maybe I can get more dirt from her tomorrow.”

“Not that gossip isn't fascinating,” Deborah said, “but what does it have to do with the murder?”

“Are you kidding?” Sid said. “This proves that— It means that—” He hesitated. “You tell her, Georgia.”

“It's possible that the missing uncle killed Kendall, or hired somebody to do it, to get McHades shut down so he could take advantage of the loophole in the will,” I said.

“If somebody wanted the haunt shut down, I can think of a dozen better ways to do it,” Deborah said.

“I can come up with a few, too,” I admitted. “The fact is, this might have nothing to do with the murder. Most of what Sid and I find out has nothing to do with the murders we're investigating. We never know what's important until the killer is found.”

“It's not exactly methodical, is it?”

“You can't expect us to act like professional detectives,
Deborah. If you want us to stop—” I put my hand over Sid's mouth before he could object. “If you want us to stop, we will, but otherwise, we're going to keep finding out stuff that may or may not be related, and coming up with ludicrous theories. Can you deal with that?” In one respect, I was in total agreement with Beatrice—I knew better than to try to push Deborah into anything.

She drove for a minute or two, then said, “Okay. I shouldn't have expected anything different. I mean, you're an English professor and Sid is . . . Sid's Sid.”

Only then did I move my hand from Sid's mouth.

Deborah dropped us off at the house without coming in, and I found Mom, Phil, and Madison watching a DVD of
Guardians of the Galaxy
while sharing a bowl of popcorn. Byron was sprawled nearby, close enough for pats and stray pieces of popcorn, but jumped up as I pulled Sid's skull out of the bag.

“Back off, kibble breath!” Sid snapped.

Byron looked disappointed, but retreated as Sid's headless skeleton came lumbering down the stairs, reaching out blindly.

Once he'd plopped his skull into place, Sid said, “Hi, Thackerys! I'm heading upstairs to work.”

My family didn't even react to any of that. I wasn't sure if it was a good sign or not.

*   *   *

B
efore I headed to McQuaid the next day, I got a text from Deborah:

Beatrice called. Kendall's parents don't object but cops won't release house. Evidence gathered, but worried about security. Weekend looking iffy. Any progress?

I wasn't happy about my reply, but I hadn't had any grand revelations and I was fairly sure Sid hadn't either.

Nothing. Sorry.

I went to tell Sid the latest and found him pounding madly at his laptop.

“The cops have actually defied the McQuaid Quintet, so no word on when the haunt will reopen.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, not looking in my direction.

“Louis must be tougher than he looks.”

“Uh-huh.”

“In fact, I like him so much I'm going to marry him and have little police detective babies. Is that okay with you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Dude.” I waved my hand in front of the screen, blocking his view. “What's wrong with you?”

“I've spent ten hours straight trying to find some mention of this McQuaid heir, and there's nothing. Not one thing. Oh, sure, there are McQuaids. There are a gazillion McQuaids, and if I had a first name or age or anything but the last name—”

“And gender.”

“Unless he's transitioned, or has died and it's his heir I should be looking for. Which might mean somebody with a different last name entirely.”

Sid threw up his hands in exasperation, a gesture that's literal for him, so he had to reattach them before continuing to rant. “I found a family in Medford, Mass., but there's no connection, and I tracked a paleontologist in Colorado until I realized it's a woman about forty years too young. I even located a branch of the McQuaids in Germany, but they aren't related. I'm starting to think I'm not going to be able to find anything! How can that be?”

“Not all records are online. Some stuff still has to be found in record offices and libraries.”

“That's crazy talk, Georgia, everything important is online.”

Of course the real issue was that Sid couldn't go to town hall to look up birth records or hunt down ancient newspapers in the library. “Well, we don't know for sure the heir is even involved.”

“I don't care. I refuse to stop looking.”

“Okay. I've got to go to work.”

“Sure, whatever.” He turned back to his laptop.