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Authors: Jane Tesh

Tags: #Mystery, #Detective / General, #FICTION / Mystery &, #Contemporary

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BOOK: Case of Imagination
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“Well, I was going to show them how to cleanse their auras and the best way to feel walls, but—wait a second.”

As he paused, I saw Olivia’s face tighten. Jerry, I thought, now’s the time to be creative.

“I’ve got it! Not a New Age bed and breakfast. A haunted bed and breakfast!”

Olivia rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Why does it have to be haunted?”

“It fits in so much better with my original plans.” His hands sketched an imaginary headline. “The Eberlin House Bed and Breakfast. Three ghosts, no waiting. That’s what’ll sell it, Olivia.”

She pursed her lips. “No one wants to stay in a haunted house!”

“Are you kidding?”

“Well, I wouldn’t. Would you, Madeline?”

It was my turn to give her a little smile. “I think it sounds fabulous.”

I was rewarded with Jerry’s pleased grin. “See? Mac has the right spirit of adventure. “‘Spirit,’ get it?”

“Jerry, we are talking about a reasonable business venture.”

“A haunted house would be a lot more fun.”

“I’m not talking about fun!”

“I am.”

She put both hands flat on top of the stack of folders. “Are you telling me if you advertise this place as a haunted bed and breakfast, you’d be willing to take care of all the details, fill out all the forms, and turn this—this overgrown shack into a place people would actually pay to stay in?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Not if you’re not going to take this seriously.”

He was puzzled. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You want a bed and breakfast, but you don’t want a haunted bed and breakfast.”

She gathered up the folders and stuffed them back into her briefcase. “Tell you what. Let’s just forget the whole thing.” She stalked out.

He followed her. “Wait a minute. I don’t understand why you’re so angry. I want the same thing you want. I’m just adding a few ghosts.”

Olivia stopped so suddenly, he almost ran into her. “You are not taking this seriously, Jerry. You need to decide which is more important, your ghosts or me.”

Jerry watched forlornly as she drove away. I did a little victory dance and went to be consoling.

“Wow,” he said. “What just happened?”

“She didn’t like your idea.”

“No joke.” He watched until her car disappeared around the curve of the driveway. He didn’t seem as upset as I thought he’d be. Maybe he believed she’d come back. “You like the idea, don’t you, Mac?”

“Yes, I do.” Especially since it drove Olivia away. “Best idea you’ve ever had.”

“You usually have something to say about these ideas of mine.”

“This time, I’m on your side.”

He gave me a long, considering look. “You’re always on my side, aren’t you, Mac?”

“Yes, I am.” And this was the perfect time to tell him why. He’d just had a great example of Olivia as Worst Possible Choice.

“Thanks.” He took a deep breath. “Guess I’ll give her time to cool off and give her a call.”

Chapter Six

 

Sunday morning, I lay for a while in bed. I was getting used to the sound of that rooster. I hadn’t found Hayden’s ghost, and I hadn’t found Juliet’s murderer, but I felt confident and full of energy. Maybe it was because I was doing something useful. Maybe it was because I had a purpose. Maybe it was because Olivia was gone. I could only hope she’d finally pushed too hard and would not return.

A cheerful chorus greeted me from the front porch.

“Hello, Mac!”

Jerry, Austin, and Denisha were sitting in the rocking chairs, their bare feet propped up on the railing. They were sharing a box of cornflakes.

“Why aren’t you guys in Sunday school?” I asked.

“Already been,” Denisha said.

“You have?”

“Well, I have. Don’t know about these other two.”

I couldn’t believe I’d slept so late. “What time is it?”

“It’s snack time,” Jerry said.

“Let me get my coffee and I’ll join you.”

The kitchen clock said 10:35. I got my coffee, came back to the porch, and sat down in the one remaining rocker. “Well, give me some cornflakes.”

Austin passed the box of cereal. I took out a handful and crunched.

Denisha informed me of their proper behavior. “We came in the front door.”

“Thank you. Guys, did you come over to the house after Mr. Eberlin died?”

They looked at each other and didn’t answer.

“It’s okay if you did,” I said. “Jerry and I are looking for something that’s missing. It could be important.”

Austin immediately went on the defensive. “We didn’t take anything except that food. And Val didn’t mind about that.”

Denisha looked embarrassed. “Val used to give my aunt some things. But she only took the stuff he said she could have.”

“That’s okay. We’re looking for a video tape.”

She frowned in thought. “I don’t remember that, do you, Austin?”

Austin’s eyes gleamed. “We could help you look for it, Mac. It’ll be like a treasure hunt.”

“That would be great, thanks.”

“We’ll finish our snack first.”

“Of course.”

Denisha took another handful of cereal and her big brown eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Val really liked cornflakes. We’d have them every time we came over.”

“This is a memorial snack,” Jerry said.

I took a sip of my coffee. “I’m sure Val would’ve appreciated that.”

Denisha nodded. “He always bought Girl Scout cookies from me, even though he didn’t really like them.”

“Did he ever tell you what he was filming?” I asked.

“Something about bats. I wasn’t going to go up there and find out. I don’t like bats. They eat your hair.”

As usual, her remarks made Austin furious. “Denisha, they do not eat hair! That’s some old wise tale.”

“Wives’ tale, Austin. And they do so. They get all tangled up and then they have to eat their way out.”

“Well, how could they get tangled in your hair? You’ve got it braided down, plus they’d choke on all those beads.”

“Don’t be making fun of my hair, Austin Terrell. You look like some kind of pineporky with all them spikes.”

Austin doubled over laughing. “Porcupine! Not pineporky!”

“Whatever!”

“Come on, let’s go look for treasure. Come on, Jerry.”

Jerry and Austin raced down the porch steps and around the corner of the house.

Denisha closed the cornflakes box and gave me an appraising stare. “Seen you out with Ted Stacy. He’s a mighty handsome man.”

“I think so, too.”

“How come Jerry’s going with that bossy blonde lady?”

“I don’t know. Must be love.”

She gave me a sideways glance. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do. He’s my best friend.”

“Austin’s my boyfriend.”

“Good.”

“Only he don’t know it.”

I wanted to say, I know the feeling.

***

 

After two hours of searching, we found several old keys, thirty-five cents, faded envelopes, and a dead, fossilized rat Austin claimed for his collection. No videotape.

We flopped back on the porch and had a restorative cornflakes break.

“When were you going to Hayden’s?” I asked Jerry.

“He said to stop by any time today.”

“We could go now. I need to talk to Shana. Anybody else want a ride?”

“No, thanks,” Austin said. “We’re going to ride bikes for a while, right, Denisha?”

She carefully folded the inside wrapper of the cornflakes box. “Unless you want us to keep looking for the tape.”

“Maybe later,” Jerry said.

Austin nodded. “Sure.”

I thanked the kids again for helping Jerry. “It’s a good thing you two are around. I think you’ve noticed Jerry’s slightly accident-prone.”

Denisha gave me a sympathetic look. “My aunt’s the same way. I wouldn’t call her clumsy, but she keeps running into things.”

“Things keep running into Jerry.”

“One time, she tripped over this cord and knocked the TV down. It split right down the middle.”

“Jerry can trip over sidewalk cracks.”

Jerry looked exasperated. “Hey, I’m standing right here.”

“All in one piece, which is how I expect to find you.”

Austin and Denisha hopped on their bikes and rode over the meadow to the woods.

“You need any special exorcism tools?” I asked.

“Just my sunny nature and natural charm.”

***

 

As we got out of the car, Hayden came down the steps of his front porch to greet us.

“I told Shana you might stop by for a visit. Don’t say anything about the exorcism.”

“Gotcha,” Jerry said.

Shana waved from her chair. She had a thick spiral notebook balanced in her lap. “Hello! Come in.”

“We don’t want to interrupt your work,” I said.

She put her pen in the notebook to hold her place and closed the book. “I’m at a chapter break. Sit down.”

Hayden said, “Honey, I want to show Jerry the den. We’ll be right back.”

“Take your time.”

Hayden and Jerry went into the house. Shana gave me a knowing smile.

“He wants Jerry to check for evil spirits, doesn’t he?”

I sat down in the chair next to her. “Yes, but it’s supposed to be a secret.”

“Well, if it’ll make him feel better.”

“Has he had any more nightmares about Portia?”

She nodded. “Juliet’s murder has really upset him, but any murder would’ve upset him. The whole point of living in Celosia is to be in a safe little town.” She set her notebook on the floor. “I hear I’m a suspect. I don’t know whether to be flattered or dismayed.”

“As long as you have an alibi for ten o’clock Friday night, you’re safe.”

“I’m afraid I don’t. I was all alone in my living room writing. Oh, no, wait. Hayden called me around ten to tell me he’d be working late.”

I’d have to check on that. Of course, Shana and Hayden were both writers and could easily make up an alibi, but my instincts weren’t going in that direction.

Shana’s graceful brows drew together. “It’s my temper, isn’t it? After that flaming display the other night, you can’t help but see me as Prime Suspect.”

“That and your quarrel with Juliet.”

She sighed. “I knew you’d hear about that, eventually.”

“What was the problem?”

“My youngest brother was so in love with her. I didn’t say anything at first, but I was afraid she was just playing with him, and she was. She let him date her for about a month, and then dropped him. No explanation. It broke his heart.”

“Sounds like you had every right to be angry.”

“Oh, that’s not the worst part. About the time he got over her, here she comes, sashaying back, like, ‘I’m so beautiful, I know you’ll want me, no matter how cruelly I treated you.’ I just blew up. I tried to tell her how dangerous it was to use her beauty like a weapon. I know what that’s like, and I think you do, too. It’s very easy to use your looks to get what you want. Of course, she didn’t listen to me.”

“Did your brother listen to you?”

“Fortunately, he learned his lesson, but it made me furious to see him so upset. But I’m an adult. I should be able to control myself better.” She pushed back her red-gold hair as she stood up. “What I can’t understand is how someone so attractive could be so evil.”

She disappeared inside for a moment and returned with iced tea and sugar cookies. I hoped with all my heart I wasn’t dealing with another attractive yet evil person.

She set the refreshments on a little wicker table. “I heard about Ted’s office and the break-in at Benjy’s station. Do you think the incidents are related?”

“It could be.”

“Does it have anything to do with Juliet’s murder?”

“I don’t know.” I checked her fingernails. They were short and unpainted. “There are lots of things I don’t know right now.”

Shana took a cookie. “Anything new to report on the Fairweather case?”

“Olivia thinks the Eberlin house would make a great bed and breakfast.”

“Well, it might. I never thought of that. Looks a little spooky, though.”

“That’s why Jerry thinks the house would be a perfect haunted bed and breakfast.”

Shana laughed. “Well, Hayden wouldn’t stay there.”

“I was hoping Olivia wouldn’t, either, but Jerry’s still trying to win her over.”

“You’ve never said anything to Jerry about the way you feel? Not even at college?”

I shook my head. “At the time, Jerry was dating a woman named Patsy Bell Beaumont. The latest in a series of cute brainless coeds. He was also interested in one of the French exchange students, but after one semester, she went back to France.”

“So he was never seriously involved with anyone?”

“No, not really.”

“What about after college?”

“After graduation, I pursued my art career and Jerry went traveling. He sent me ridiculous postcards and ugly souvenirs. He went to Egypt and Stonehenge and Bali, ‘acquiring vibes,’ as he said.”

“You didn’t want to go with him?”

“You know, looking back on it now, the timing was all wrong. He was ready to go forward with our relationship, but I didn’t see it. I was all wrapped up in my plans. I said nothing was more important than my career. I even gave him the Big Speech.”

Shana reached for another cookie. “Uh oh. ‘Big Speech’? Capital letters?”

“Yes, that one. ‘Nothing is going to stop me this time. I’ve been thwarted before. Never again.’”

“I always liked the word ‘thwarted.’ Thounds like thomthing Thyvester the cat would thay. Tell me more about this Big Speech.”

“I think, for the first time in his life, Jerry took something seriously. He honored my request and kept out of my way. Of course, the art career never panned out, and here I am.”

Shana looked at me thoughtfully. “Yes, here you are, and you know what? If you really want him, you’re going to have to revise that Big Speech.”

“Revise?”

“I’m the writer. Let me. ‘Nothing is more important than my relationship with Jerry Fairweather. I’ve been thwarted before, but nothing is going to stop me this time.’” She grinned. “What do you think?”

I had to smile. “I think you just like saying ‘thwarted.’”

Shana started to say something else when a beige Lincoln town car drove up. She crushed the cookie in her hand. “I don’t believe it.”

The woman who got out of the car was long and lean with a prominent nose. She tossed her head, her shoulder-length blonde hair swinging. I figured this was the infamous Cynthia Riley. I was right.

“Hello, Shana,” the woman said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I heard that Hayden might need my services.”

Shana stood up and blocked the way up the porch steps. “Hello, Cynthia,” she answered. “Yes, I mind.”

Cynthia Riley tossed her head again and trilled a laugh. “Now, really. I just want to assess the house for conflicting auras. It won’t take a minute. But I see you have company. Is this a bad time?” Without waiting for a reply, she came up the first few steps and reached past Shana to offer me a thin hand. “Cynthia Riley, Exorcist and Spiritual Adviser.”

“I’m Madeline Maclin,” I said. “Private investigator.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of you. You’re staying at the Eberlin house, aren’t you? I understand the place positively reeks of spiritual energy.”

“Something reeks, all right,” Shana said. “I think it’s your perfume.”

Cynthia Riley stepped back and gave another laugh. “Dear Shana, let’s not fight. If your dear husband is concerned about the spirits in your house, don’t you owe it to him to try any and all resources?”

Shana’s lips were set in a thin line. “There are no spirits in my house.”

BOOK: Case of Imagination
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