The Gallery of the Dead (Tropical Breeze Cozy Mystery Book 3) (16 page)

Michael, who hadn’t paid much attention to the crime, was lost. He watched me with big eyes, and Teddy was slack-jawed, but Lily was following me every step of the way.

She even began to work it out on her own. “She ditched the flip flops in the gallery as she ran, then went down the fire escape and shoved ‘Jane’s’ clothing into the backpack, which she’d hidden under the stairs. Next, she brought the backpack inside and told us she’d chased after Jane but only managed to get the bag. In it was a phony I.D. – in fact everything somebody like Jane would have – and the bloody shirt, which Carmilla was careful to handle, so she could explain away any of Misty’s blood that had gotten on her.”

I was nodding, and picked up the thread. “And Ed said that after she got done with the backpack, she went back to her room and shut the door. She could have done a better job of hiding the ‘Jane’ wig at that point, as she was putting on the ‘Carmilla’ wig and boots. Afterwards, she had plenty of time to destroy the ‘Jane’ wig. Nobody was suspicious of anyone but Jane. After all, you had seen her kill Misty with your own eyes. There was no doubt who the murderer was.”

Teddy was looking from one to the other of us as if he was having trouble following, but finally his face cleared. Then he looked panic-stricken.

“She’s right here in this house!”
he said. We shushed him and he lowered his voice. “She’s right here in this house. She’s still crazy – Jane-crazy
and
Carmilla-crazy – and she’s staying close to me so she can take another crack at me. She only took on the Jane persona and got herself hired as a maid so she could get away with it, but either way she still wants me dead.”

“One good thing,” I said, trying to settle him down. “You’re right – she does want to get away with it. She hasn’t tried anything else since last night, and I don’t think she will. She’ll go on with the show until she can cook up another plot.”

“You can’t be sure of that! She could be standing outside the door with a knife right now!”

“She’s not,” I said, though I really didn’t know. Having my armed lover sitting beside me was enough for me. “Just settle down. Now here’s what we’re going to do. I’ve got my cell phone on me, and I’m going to call the cops and tell them what we think. They can make Carmilla take off her costume and make-up, put on normal clothing and take off that big black wig. Then I bet you’ll all be able to identify her as Jane.”

Lily shook her head. “We never really looked at her closely.”

“Well, Ed did, and so did Paul. You probably noticed more than you think. If you even think it’s her, say you recognize her and we’ll sort it all out later.”

“And if it’s not her, she’ll quit on me,” Teddy said. It was incredible to me that he was still thinking of his TV show at a moment like this, but I should have known.

“She won’t get railroaded,” I said. “The police have her fingerprints, remember? That’ll be the final proof. If we’re wrong, we’ll apologize, but I don’t think we’re wrong.”

“I don’t either,” Lily said enthusiastically. “You’re a genius!”

“It was Ed’s idea in the first place. But I want you two to think it over now, and let me know if there are any holes in the theory, before I call the police. Did you ever see Jane and Carmilla at the same time?”

They thought it over and shook their heads. “No, never.”

“I’ve got a point, though,” Lily said. “Carmilla wears some pretty extravagant make-up. I don’t know how Jane would have gotten around that . . . although . . . that’s right! Jane was wearing lots of make-up that night. We all thought she’d just done a bad job because she wanted to look pretty for Teddy. All Carmilla would have had to do is put on some deep purple lipstick, and voila! The overdone blusher and eyeliner were already there; at least they were good enough for her to pass as Carmilla while she was bringing in the backpack.”

I nodded. “All she needed for her scene in the gallery was the dark lipstick, which she probably had stashed in the backpack. After taking off Jane’s clothes, she applied the lipstick, then tucked it into her belt or her bustier. After that, when she was alone in her room, she could have adjusted her normal make-up and you probably wouldn’t have noticed the difference, especially after you’d just seen a murder.”

Lily nodded. “Right. In the meantime, she was wearing a wig cap, which made her look weird anyway. We were all looking at her head, not her face. We wouldn’t have noticed that her make-up wasn’t quite the way it usually was.”

“Okay,” I said, “are we going to go with this to the cops?”

Teddy was nodding largely, and Lily said, “Yes. The sooner the better.”

I looked at Michael. He shrugged. “I have no idea what you people are talking about, but if there is even a chance that there’s a homicidal maniac in the house, by all means, call the police.”

“Okay,” I said, “Here goes.”

We stayed in Lily and Teddy’s room with the door locked until we heard cars pulling up outside. But by the time the cops got there, Carmilla was gone.

From the Journal of Edson-Darby Deaver

Taylor called me right after calling the police, and I followed them onto the property and up to the house. When I walked in, I was told to get into the kitchen and stay out of the way; there was an intensive search for Carmilla going on.

“I can’t figure out how she got away,” Teddy was saying. Everybody else who belonged in the house was there too: Taylor, Michael, the rest of Teddy’s crew, and Teddy’s father, Lorenzo. Also Taylor’s elderly housekeeper Myrtle Purdy was there, looking down her nose at me and hovering like an angry ghost. She has never liked me; I don’t know why.

There were five tall chairs arranged around the back of the kitchen counter, but nobody seemed to want to sit down. They were scattered around the kitchen like people at a bad cocktail party, and Jinx continually paced.

“She must be in the woods,” Wyatt said. “She doesn’t have a car; she came with the rest of us in the company cars and they’re both still outside, along with Teddy’s thing.”

Teddy bristled. “It’s not a ‘thing.’ It’s an Austin-Healy 3000. It’s a classic.”

Nobody cared.

“There are 1,500 acres of coastal scrub out there,” Taylor said. “Even if she makes it to the highway, who’s going to give her a ride looking like the bride of Dracula? Has anybody ever seen her wearing anything else?”

We all looked around at one another and shook our heads.

“She passed for Jane,” I said, “probably the dullest person I’ve ever met. She’s probably got a whole new persona by now, and I’m betting she knows how to get men to pick her up.”

Teddy sagged. “Then she could be anywhere by now.”

“Cheer up, Teddy,” his father said. “Maybe she’s wandering around in the scrub and will get snakebit. The cops will find her when the sun comes up. They know what they’re doing.”

“And maybe she’s in Daytona by now, working out her next plot to kill me.”

Lorenzo, an older, shorter version of Teddy, regarded his son affectionately. The older man’s hair was a pure, angelic white and his eyes were the same creepy green as his son’s. According to Taylor, his hair was the only angelic thing about him.

“Have a donut,
bambino mio
,” Lorenzo said to the son who towered over him.

Myrtle hovered nearby, topping up his coffee and generally being worshipful.

Teddy took a donut and gave it a little nibble, looking tragic.

I felt a little sorry for him myself. As I shook my head, I noticed Taylor giving me the eye and then walking across the great room toward her office. I tried to think of a plausible excuse for following her, but I quickly realized nobody was going to notice or care. Maybe Michael would, but Taylor assured me I was just imagining that he was jealous. I know little of these things. As for everybody else, Teddy was mopping up all their attention.

When I got to her office, Taylor closed the door behind me. I paused, gazing at the spot where I knew Vesta Huntington had died in her bed the year before. What had seemed like the quiet passing of an old lady had actually been murder. The bed was gone now, of course, and no vibrations were apparent to me, but as a professional, I always give it a try.

“So what do we do now?” Taylor asked, sitting at her desk and gesturing toward a chair for me.

I sat. “We wait.”

“For what? She’s still going to try to kill Teddy. According to your theory, she isn’t just going to go away. She hasn’t finished the job yet, and we’ve already seen how determined she is. She’s already killed once.”

“A certain set of circumstances is going to arise,” I said, trying not to be too pedantic. I adjusted my glasses and settled myself. “Until that time, Teddy is going to be in constant danger, and I’ll be looking out for him.”

Taylor, normally a nice enough person, let a skeptical look flit across her face.

I ignored it and continued. “By the time these particular things begin to happen here in Tropical Breeze, I’ll probably be on the road with Teddy. We can’t hide out here forever. He’s desperate to make a success of this new show of ours. So I will need you and Bernie to be my eyes and ears.”

She raised her hand. “Can I be the ears?”

I looked at her, disappointed, and she put her hand down.

“Is that going to be when Teddy is in the most danger?” she asked.

I took my glasses off and put them on the desk, then rubbed the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger. “No, Taylor. That will mean Teddy is out of danger altogether. By that time, there will have been more attempts on his life, hopefully unsuccessful. What it will mean is that the moment has come for us to pounce.”

She was caressing the cat pendant that she always wore, and hoping for a moment of weakness, I asked, “I see you’re still wearing Bastet, the mother goddess. And you have given that name to your unusual cat. They both appeared shortly after Vesta’s death, did they not?”

She stared at me, stubbornly hugging her secrets to herself.

“Taylor, you have known me for a few years now, haven’t you? And over the last year you’ve gotten to know me much better. Do you really think I’m going to scoff?”

“I don’t know if I’m
allowed
to tell anyone,” she said with stiffened lips.

I tilted my head, fascinated at the thought. “I see. Perhaps I’m allowed to tell you?”

“Go ahead. I’d like to know what you think.”

“When Vesta died,” I began, “her family sold off her collection of Egyptiana at your resale shop, Girlfriends. Almost everybody in the area purchased an item. I myself have a little scarab that I always carry with me. In Misty’s dining room I noticed a statuette that I believe was Vesta’s. My theory runs thusly: I think you had a mystical visitation after Vesta died; exactly what kind of visitation I don’t know, but it produced your pet cat – the one that seems to own you instead of the other way around. I believe this cat is some kind of a manifestation, and that all those among us who possess one of Vesta’s artifacts are under the protection of this, for lack of a better word, goddess. Misty reported to Bernie that a large, green-eyed black cat was prowling around The Royal Palm in the weeks before her death. Misty, however unknowing or unbelieving, was in possession of one of Vesta’s artifacts, and now she has been murdered. And, whether it was my idea or – somebody else’s – you have been drawn into the quest for justice. You and your cat.”

She remained silent, gazing at me.

Here is the point where hairs rose on the backs of my arms and a thrill ran straight through me. Rare as these moments have been in my paranormal investigations, I’ve learned to relish them: at that precise moment, there was a scratch at the door.

Taylor’s eyes widened, then began to glisten.

“I’ve been so alone,” she said in a tiny, breathy voice.

I nodded toward the door. “Are you going to open it?”

“You do it.”

I arose and opened the door and was met with the green eyes of the cat. She was sitting in the threshold, patient, almost disinterested, poised with her tail neatly wrapped around her paws. She stared at me with unblinking eyes.

After a moment, I said, “Please,” and motioned her inside.

She came. I closed the door again, shutting out the murmurs from the group in the kitchen, and sat down to contemplate the cat. Or rather, to allow the cat to contemplate me.

We were silent, motionless and observant for perhaps three minutes. Then the cat, which had been staring at me intently almost the entire time, slowly blinked her eyes one time.

Then, obviously, she was satisfied. She stood up and I let her out of the room.

“I think I have her approval,” I said, reseating myself. I was interested to notice that I was trembling.

“I can’t claim that I have actual
knowledge
,” Taylor began a little shakily. “She never tells me anything. She takes information from me, you understand, but she doesn’t give it to me. She comes to me in dreams and gives me hints. Then she waits for me to figure it out for myself. Oh, Ed, I really don’t know what the connection is! I can only tell you what I suspect.”

She did. She had suspected the connection among Vesta’s little treasures and the goddess for quite some time now, just as I had described it.

“Now we come to the point I’m really after,” I said, gazing at her steadily. “Has she visited your dreams because of Misty’s murder?” I waited, hoping against hope.

“No. I think . . . .“ She stopped, blocked by her own confusion. Her usual levity was completely gone now. “I think this is your job, Ed. She’s only using me to observe what you’re doing.”

“Will I dream of her?” I asked eagerly.

She gestured at the door. “Ask her.”

“May I?”

She seemed surprised that I had taken her literally.

Then she shrugged. “Sure, if you can find her.”

“Thank you.”

When I opened the door, she was nowhere to be seen. If I couldn’t find her in the house, I decided I would go look for her in the cemetery; something just told me that it was a good meeting place. But I had forgotten that the police wanted us to stay together inside the house while they hunted for Carmilla. Strange to have a thing like that slip your mind, but my professional interest had been piqued. Hijacked, you might say.

I came out of the office looking left and right, and when I realized the people in the kitchen were watching me, I called to them, “Did you see a cat come out of this room?”

“A cat?” Teddy said, as if I’d be looking for Martians next. “No. Why?”

“Oh, I just thought I’d look around for a cat,” I said, realizing suddenly how my search for an Egyptian goddess was going to go over with the gang in the kitchen. They were calling themselves paranormal investigators, but at this moment, faced with a murderer on the loose, they weren’t interested in anything hypothetical.

They tittered. I heard one of the men say, “Good old Ed, always good for a laugh.”

I quietly resumed my search, determined to rise above the doubters, but I did not find the cat.

Daylight came, but it didn’t shed much light on our mystery. Carmilla was not on the property anywhere. Her cell phone was, which turned out to be no help. All the contacts in its memory were for other members of
Haunt or Hoax?
and it didn’t show any calls to any other numbers. The cops called it a “burner phone,” purchased at a big box store and registered to a phony name.

They did manage to find the wig that so effectively changed Carmilla into Jane. It was shoved down into the bottom of Jinx’s travel bag. When he saw it, he stood up and danced backwards with his fingers splayed, looking ready to bounce away in back flips.

“I never saw that before!” he said. “And what the hell were you doing rooting around in my stuff?” He was red-faced, indignant and terrified, all at the same time.

“We rooted around in everybody’s stuff,” Sheriff Longley drawled. “Had to.”

“Of course, of course,” Teddy said, coming between them. “We understand perfectly, don’t we, Jinx?”

“Hell no!” Jinx said.

“We understand perfectly,” Teddy repeated, putting his back to Jinx and smiling at the sheriff.

Kyle Longley looked around Teddy at Jinx. “You never saw this before? Even on the girl when she was cleaning your room for you?”

“She never cleaned my room for me. I was only in the place for one night, and that dude Paul did my room.”

“What about when you were all in the gallery together, getting ready to do your show?”

Kyle wasn’t confrontational, but Jinx was getting more and more panicky.

“She was the
maid!
She looked like she’d gone through the dishwasher on power scrub. Nobody looks at girls like that.”

Kyle sighed, and said, “I’m afraid you’re right, son.”

He nodded to us and walked away, leaving us scattered around the kitchen.

“Can we go to our rooms now?” Teddy asked his retreating back.

“Yup,” came the answer.

“Finally!” somebody muttered, and the group began to break up, all except for Jinx, who was standing still for once, looking shocked.

The inmates of Cadbury House went to bed.

Two things happened after that.

First, Teddy, after coming down for a long, listless breakfast, went back to his room and found his clothes pulled out of the drawers and cut to pieces.

Second, sometime during the night Jinx disappeared.