Risky witchness, p.6
Risky Witchness, page 6
Before I had time to talk myself out of it, I strode over and settled onto the chaise beside Suzanne. Barely had my butt hit the fabric when her neck snapped up. “Do you mind? There are plenty of chairs here, and I’m very busy.”
“I came to talk to you, actually. You seem stressed.”
“Of course I’m stressed! A man died in my spa. If someone had alerted me quietly, I could have covered it up. We’d have taken him quietly out a back door. But stupid Eve, she started screaming—before I could do anything, she’d broadcast the news to everyone. How could she do that to me?”
Interesting that she was more concerned with the potential loss of business than the life extinguished. “Do people often die at the spa?”
“As if I would answer that. But it’s not one hundred percent unheard of. There are procedures. There are forums for spa owners, and we talk about these things. I never considered a murder, though.” She gestured down the hall and sighed. “This is my worst nightmare.”
Her words rang true. As obnoxious as Darren was, the spa owner seemed furious that he’d been killed here. Even if she knew about Eve and Darren’s relationship and wanted to murder him, doing it here seemed unlikely. Not when she could pull his address from the files or follow him to a more isolated location.
“This is a nice place, you know. I was really enjoying my time here.”
“You don’t need to butter me up. You’ll get a full refund for today’s services.”
“Is that your only concern, the money?”
“Oh, no.” Her head snapped up. Horrified blue eyes met mine over the laptop. “Please don’t put that on Yelp. I’ll give you coupons, anything.”
“Suzanne, listen. I’m not here to sabotage your business,” I said. “I just wanted to be sure that you understand I had nothing to do with this. It must have been quite a shock to find me and Eve in the room like that.”
“If you’d done it, I’d give you a free membership for life.” She snorted. “Darren was a first-class jerk to everyone.”
I cleared my throat. “Um, Eve seemed to like him.”
“Eve likes the big tips. Darren’s a sweet talker, or he was. Getting the pretty young massage therapists to like him was a big ego boost. Before her, it was someone else. There would’ve been someone else after her. If any of those girls knew the real person, they wouldn’t fall for his act. I keep telling Eve, ‘He’s in advertising. It’s his business to make you like his product, and in this scenario, he’s the product.’ She never wanted to hear it.” She heaved a sigh. “I was starting to think I might have to force him to see one of our male staff members. Eve’s a sweet girl. She deserves better than a doomed crush.”
While Suzanne spoke, I watched her face. It didn’t seem like she knew about Darren’s physical relationship with Eve. I didn’t want to be the one to break the news. Suzanne would fire Eve on the spot, and she’d been through enough for one day.
The thought made my stomach churn. Weariness came over me. I was in over my head. Without Darren’s help, there was nothing for me to do here, and he could be anywhere. I needed to go home and take a long nap. Detective Pratt knew where to find me if he needed to talk more.
After saying goodbye to Suzanne, I stood and scanned the room for Detective Pratt—er, Tim. He was talking to one of the uniformed officers who went to gather evidence in the massage room earlier.
When our eyes met, he moved toward me. I met him halfway. “Your number the same?”
“Yeah. Should I be expecting a call?”
He smiled for a second, then caught himself. “I may have some follow-up questions once I get your statement typed up. Can you come by in a couple of days, read over everything, and then sign it?”
“No problem. I’m happy to do whatever I can to help.”
“Great, thanks. In that case, I’ll have Officer Peterson show you out.”
“Who?”
He nodded toward the corner and beckoned. Officer Rude. So that was her name. She beamed at him when he repeated the request. I didn’t know her face could make that expression. Then he turned around, and she resumed her normal glare. “After you.”
We walked in silence toward the front door. When we arrived, Officer Rude crossed her arms and stared pointedly at the exit.
“Did I offend you somehow?” I asked.
“Offend me? Oh, no! Why would you think that?” If she’d been any more fake, she’d have to change her name to Milli Vanilli.
I sighed. “No reason. It doesn’t matter. Have a good afternoon.”
She didn’t speak again until I’d passed through the door. “Your act doesn’t fool me, you know.”
“Excuse me?”
“There’s something off about you, Ms. Faden. I plan to examine every single piece of evidence until I figure out exactly what you did to Darren Cartwright.”
Chapter
Eight
Officer Peterson’s accusation stopped me in my tracks. I wasn’t naïve enough to forget that finding the body made me look suspicious. Not to mention that I’d been going through the dead man’s pockets. If they found poison in Darren’s teacup, I might as well slap the cuffs on myself.
None of which I could say. The best thing was to avoid antagonizing her until some evidence pointed at a more viable suspect. Instead, I said, “Boy, will you be embarrassed if it turns out he had a heart attack.”
Before she could reply, I hurried to the parking lot.
To my surprise, when I settled into the front seat of my battered old Toyota Corolla, a ghost leaned against the passenger side. I hadn’t seen him when I walked up, but it wasn’t Walter.
“Hello?” I called.
Darren slid through the door into the front seat, a sneer on his face. “Does this thing run? Can we take my car?”
“We?” After our last interaction, I’d figured he went through his door without me. He seemed like someone who lived with no regrets.
His next words told me how wrong I’d been. “Of course, we. You’ve got to take me with you. You don’t expect me to hang around the salon all day, do you? I’m a busy, important man!”
“Hold on. How are you coming with me?”
“Well, it’s like this. You’re the only person who can see or hear me, and I don’t enjoy talking to myself. I’m staying with you until you fix this.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to explain that fixing this situation would have nothing to do with making him undead. A friend of mine did that once, and she got into loads of trouble.
“That’s not what I meant. You can’t come with me. You have to stay at the spa,” I said.
“Why?”
“Um… that’s the rule,” I said. “Isn’t it? You stay in the place where you died. I think.”
“Says who?”
The question gave me pause. I didn’t actually know the answer. Who made these rules? My grandfather’s ghost was tied to the place where he’d died, the family home he’d grown up in and lived in for almost seventy years. But Darren didn’t live in the spa. He didn’t appear to have any emotional attachment to it. It didn’t make sense that he’d be stuck here forever. In fact, why was he here? Shouldn’t he go somewhere more meaningful, like his office?
The only other non-relative ghost I’d encountered appeared near the spot where she’d died. She went through a door shortly thereafter, disappearing. There hadn’t been time to experiment. Walter claimed to have unfinished business—what did Darren want?
Since I didn’t have a good answer to Darren’s question, I picked a bad one. “You can’t come home with me. I’ve already got a ghost.”
“I can’t spend my eternal existence haunting a day spa! You think I want to watch spoiled, wealthy women get pampered forever?”
“At some point, the way I understand it, a door will appear. You open it, you walk through, and—Voila! Afterlife,” I said. “Besides, you seem awfully judgmental for someone who was getting pampered at the same spa earlier today.”
“That was different.”
Of course. Everyone always thought they were the exception.
“What makes you so special?”
He clamped his lips together and turned toward the window. Right. He wasn’t here for the ambiance. The spa provided a convenient place to hook up with his girlfriend.
“If you can leave the spa, why are you still hanging out with me? Don’t you want to talk to your loved ones? Go see an old friend or two?”
“I tried. After you wouldn’t help me earlier.” He crossed his arms. “No one can see or hear me. It was embarrassing, trying to get their attention. My assistant looked right through me as if I didn’t exist. She wouldn’t have dared yesterday.”
This might be the first time Darren had displayed anything resembling a genuine emotion since accepting that he’d died. “I’m sorry. That must be tough.”
“Are we going to sit here yapping all day?”
So much for our touching moment.
Before we left, there was one more thing. Leaning forward, I craned my neck to look for security cameras on the outside of the building.
“You won’t find anything here,” Darren said. “Suzanne’s security system only recorded the lobby and other public areas, except the locker rooms. She wasn’t worried about break-ins.”
Interesting.
“If there was a camera in the hall or the room where you were killed, the police can pull the footage. They’ll know if anyone snuck in.”
“They can, but you said yourself: there’s no sign of a struggle. The cameras would show me going in with Eve. She didn’t kill me.”
He seemed awfully certain of that. Her grief had seemed genuine, but I wasn’t one hundred percent prepared to discount her as a suspect.
“You didn’t overhear anything while you were alone, did you? See someone confessing into a mirror?” It was a long shot, but since we were still at square one, I might as well give it a shot.
“Nah. I went to see Eve; she was devastated. Crying on Missy’s shoulder. Then I went back to Eve’s room to get my phone, which I couldn’t pick up.”
“Sorry. I should’ve warned you. You can’t affect the outside world. If you attempt to touch anything, or anyone, nothing happens. Like when you tried to hug Eve. You can, however, walk through walls, which you saw when you got in my car.”
“I wanted to open the door. It didn’t work.”
“What did you see in there?”
“Inside your car door? I don’t know, rust.”
“No, at the crime scene. In the massage room.” I took a deep breath. “Were the police gathering evidence?”
“Oh, yeah. Your detective friend was in there, checking me out for wounds. They found a red hair on my chest, probably yours.”
Few people had the bright red shade my hair had settled into when I inherited my powers. If the strand belonged to me, Tim would know instantly. As would every other officer.
“Did they say what they thought happened?”
“Nah. They were gathering evidence. One of them called the coroner. She said it might take weeks to get results. Small town, you know.”
Our county shared a coroner with Shady Grove, and she only worked part time. On the other hand, she usually didn’t have many cases.
“It must be distressing to watch the police process the scene where you died.” When Darren didn’t respond, I asked, “Anything else?”
“I listened to the officers gossiping near the locker room doors. The female officer really doesn’t like you.”
“Yeah, I gathered that. Did she, by any chance, say why?”
“Something like ‘I hate how Detective Pratt is all moony-eyed over that woman. She’s always batting her eyes, and he comes running.’”
The thought of Tim having feelings for me brought a smile to my lips. “Maybe they weren’t talking about me.”
“She called you ‘that red-headed hussy.’”
“Okay, that probably was me.” My cheeks grew warm. “She really thinks he likes me?”
“Yeah. You want me to pass him a note after gym class?” He snorted. “This ain’t high school. You like the guy, he likes you. Do the thing or don’t, but don’t pretend you haven’t noticed how he looks at you. Even I saw it.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, he thinks I might be a murderer.”
“Does not. He’s just doing his job, and you know it.”
We’d come full circle, from me giving Darren love advice to him returning the favor. Time to get out of here. “I’ll keep that in mind. But I shouldn’t sit in my car talking to myself much longer. I need to go.”
“Don’t let me stop you. I don’t know why we’re just sitting here, anyway. You can talk and drive, can’t you? Let’s see if this lemon starts! I’ve got things to do, places to go.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Don’t act dumb. Writing ads! Wooing clients! Making money. I have a big pitch first thing tomorrow morning. There’s a meeting with the team this afternoon to review everything, and we’re about to be late.”
How to put this tactfully? “You can’t go to business meetings. You’re dead.”
Nope, that wasn’t it.
“So? I told you, that’s not going to slow me down. I have a business to run.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“Excuse me? Then what am I paying you for?”
I blinked at him a few times, wondering if I’d somehow misheard him. “You’re not. Do you think I’m one of your employees?”
“You said you were helping me. No one helps others for free.”
“I do. It’s my legacy.” He snorted and muttered something I didn’t need to hear. Ignoring him, I said, “When I mentioned helping the recently deceased with unfinished business, that didn’t mean running an actual company on their behalf.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to.” Not the best argument, but this guy’s attitude got under my skin. I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Listen, I’m sorry. It’s been a terrible day.”
“Says you!”
“Right. I know. It was nice to meet you. I wish I could help, but my role is limited to helping you move on, not teaching you better living as a ghost. Good luck with that. I wish you all the best.”
“You’re not going to handle my meeting?”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, but you’ve been rude and demanding since we met. Why should I help you?”
He grinned. “Because of my good looks and charm?”
“Try again.”
Darren took a deep breath and started to sing. “It’s fun to stay at the YMCA!” With each letter, his upper body twitched in the seat and his arms moved. What on earth was happening?
“Are you okay?”
He ignored me and continued singing.
Covering my ears and shutting my eyes, I counted to a hundred. It didn’t help. Finally, I lost my patience. “STOP!”
He swung his arms from the ‘A’ position they’d been in to a crossing guard stance. “Collaborate and listen!”
If ghosts wore real clothing, Darren would find his suit growing upwards over his mouth. Since that wasn’t an option, I gaped at him. “What are you doing?”
“Convincing you to take me with you. You were planning to leave the spa. You’re supposed to help me. I don’t want to stay here. You can’t force me out of your car, and you wouldn’t leave your car behind, so I’m going to sing until you change your mind.”
Leave my car behind? An interesting idea. “You know what? I have changed my mind.”
“Great!”
Before he could finish whatever he planned to say next, my door swung outward. Although returning to the spa later didn’t appeal, I could take a walk.
I made it about halfway down the block before he caught up with me.
“Young man!”
“What?”
“There’s no need to feel down.” It took me a minute to realize he’d gone back to the beginning, but by the time we got to the chorus, I was having flashes of Village People.
It would have been easier to identify the lyrics if he’d been remotely on key. Compared to Darren’s voice, fingernails on a chalkboard would be a joy. I’d rather listen to fighting cats while chewing tin foil.
Still, I kept walking. Darren spent all day bullying everyone in the spa, and I wasn’t okay with that. Unfortunately, he was hard to ignore. Especially once he jumped in front of me, turned around, and started shouting again. Dance moves and all. You haven’t seen disconcerting until a middle-aged, mobster-looking ghost gyrates while forming letters with his arms and screaming in your face.
It took all my resolve, but I kept going. Moving backward, he remained close enough that I could have touched him if he were solid. I would have gone right through him if he hadn’t matched my steps.
We made it to the end of the block before I halted. It was “they can help you today” that did it. Darn everything.
I was supposed to be helping, not running. That was my calling.
Even though I didn’t like Darren, I would help him move on. Anything to end this poor excuse for singing. Well, except for actually taking over the agency and acting as his intermediary. I couldn’t even upsell desserts to hungry people when I waitressed at the Olive Garden after high school. Coming up with catchy slogans and enticing images was miles beyond my skill set.
“Fine. You can come with me.” If he was going to follow me around either way, I preferred he stopped singing. “But I don’t think you’ll be meeting with clients.”
“Don’t be stupid. You make the pitch. Negotiate the deal. With my help, of course. I need to make sure my partner doesn’t run everything into the ground. He’s useless without me.”
We made it halfway back to the car before I said, “If I show up and tell your business partner that I’m your emissary, he might call the police. Considering that I am currently the number one suspect in your death, I’d rather not bring any more undue suspicion on me. If I’m going to help you move on, we need to clear my name first.”
