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A Ghostly Secret (Ghostly Southern Mysteries Book 7) Page 8
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“Is Mr. Allen dead?” The man chuckled.
“I hope not.” I returned his goofy laugh. “Is he here?”
“Right here in the flesh.” The man held out his arms. The familiar voice of his commercials was in this man’s voice, but not his face. “Living flesh that is.”
“That’s not Mommy’s Kevin.” Betsy’s ghost hid behind me. “That’s an old man.”
“Hi,” I stuck my hand out. “I’m Emma Lee Raines from Eternal Slumber Funeral Home in Sleepy Hollow. My funeral home is also the county morgue and we’ve recently gotten a cold case related to someone from your past.” There was no sense in sugarcoating anything.
Betsy had taken an interest in how he appeared to be now. Still tall, but much heavier and much older. I guessed in her mind, time had not changed when in reality everyone was much older.
“He sounds like jerk Kevin. That’s what I called him. But he doesn’t look like him.” She floated up in the air and swooshed side-to-side.
“All of the sudden it got awfully windy.” Kevin noticed the breeze my Betweener client was making around him by her sudden movements. “Let’s go in and talk.”
“You don’t seem too surprised to see me.” I noticed he’d not asked me to leave or how I’d gotten in.
“Nah.” He walked up the front concrete steps of the mansion and opened the massive wooden door with the Tiffany glass panels. “Kay called me. She said they’d found Betsy’s bones.”
“You mean Kay warned you.” Betsy snarled. “Emma Lee, I can’t go in there. I can’t.”
When I took a step inside, Betsy wasn’t with me and neither was Mr. Whiskers. The foyer led straight into an open family room. The floor was cement and large abstract paintings hung on the wall. No telling how much each one of them cost. My morgue was warmer than this place. No wonder Betsy didn’t want to live here. It was like a museum.
I followed him out to the back deck that overlooked the pool Betsy had talked about and a putting green off to the right.
“How can I help you?” He put his hand out for me to sit down in one of the lounges.
Before I could even say anything, one of his employees came out with a tray of assorted drinks.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.” His charm exuded from him, just like he’d done on the TV.
“No thanks.” I waved the employee away. So did Kevin when the tray was offered to him. “Bones tell a lot of the story about Betsy’s final hours. We. . .” I cleared my throat, “I’m here to help put the missing pieces together for the report. Can you tell me exactly what you remember the morning Betsy was reported missing?”
“Yes. I remember getting a phone call from Kay. She was frantic. Naturally, I thought she was upset about the wedding. Something with the cake, the caterer, the dress, you know.” He rolled his eyes. “Women and weddings.” He then rolled his hand and I noticed his lack of a wedding band. “I told her to calm down and call the police after the staff had looked all over for Betsy. She was nowhere to be found.”
“Were you at the office when Kay called? And what time was that?” I asked.
“I was in the Chicago office. It was the soft opening and I’d left the night before. Rent A Room was going national. Chicago was our first box store out of Kentucky. I’ve told the police all of this.” He lifted his nose in the air and took a deep breath. “Don’t you love the smell of fall? It’s coming. We can’t stop time.”
“I do love fall in Kentucky.” No wonder the police didn’t question him too much. My eyes drew in front of me and beyond the deck. There was an amazing pool that had more curves than Beulah Paige. There was a concrete swan in the middle that spit water out of its beak. “You have beautiful land here.”
“Yes. It’s not used much, but I do love it here.” He looked beyond.
“What is that patch over there?” I pointed to the far right of the property. It was a little more overgrown and the statues that were in the patch looked like they’d fallen apart.
“I used to have a beautiful flower garden. There’s a pond in there somewhere. The statues were also kept up.” His voice held sadness. “Kay loved that garden. She and Betsy were in there every day doing something.” The memory put a smile on his face. “After she left me, I didn’t go back in there.”
“Speaking of Betsy. Did you like her?”
“Of course I did. I mean, I loved Kay and she was part of Kay.” He looked at me strangely. “I hope you don’t think I had anything to do with Betsy’s disappearing,” he said all smarmy.
“No,” I assured him. Of course I do, I pinched a smile. “I’m just trying to gather all the facts to go with the story her bones are telling me.”
“And what are the bones saying nowadays?” He taunted me.
“Betsy was bound and gagged, making this a homicide. Someone killed her. Someone took her from your house and tied her up in that barn. Herman Strauss had no way of knowing Betsy was in there when he lit the place on fire.”
“Geesh.” His eyes dropped. “Does Kay know?”
“I’m assuming the police informed her.” I didn’t know for sure, but it was Vernon’s job as coroner to inform the sheriff if there was something and homicide was a pretty big something.
“What was your relationship like with Betsy?” I asked and eased up on the edge of the seat. I couldn’t help but notice him fidgeting.
“I was just her mother’s boyfriend. You know she’d do the jealous thing like want her mom to herself and have her mom spend all her time with her.” He shrugged.
“Like you wanted Kay’s time and all her attention?” I asked.
“Yeah. I guess when you put it that way. But kids grow up. They move on and then leave their parents. That’s all I told Kay.” He shook his head. “I never wanted anything but the best for Betsy.”
“So when you offered to send her off to school, that was a loving gesture for a ten year old?” Okay. My words might’ve been a little off-color as a guest in his house, but the facts were the facts. He didn’t want children. He didn’t want to compete for Kay’s affection and he certainly wasn’t the fun-loving Rent A Room king he portrayed on the TV.
“I think our little visit is over.” He stood up. His sweet charm had turned cold and calculating. “If there is any further assistance needed, send the sheriff himself.”
That jerk wasn’t even going to show me the door.
“Wait a second,” I called out after him. “You never married?”
“No. Not that it’s any of your business.” He walked inside and shut the door behind him. The sound of the lock let me know I wasn’t using the way I came in to leave the mansion. That man didn’t want me anywhere in his house.
That sent all sorts of red flags up to me.
“You can go around that way.” Betsy stood at the top of the steps leading off the back porch.
There was no sense in hanging around here. I had more questions than answers. Doing more research on the great Rent A Room king was high on my priority list. Or should I say, Mazie Watkins’s list.
I stood at the bottom of my steps and surveyed the quickest way around the massive structure. To the left were the fields and to the right was the right wing of the house and the way Betsy had gone. She’d lived here, so I took her way.
The breezeway that connected the two houses was glass on both sides. There was a shadow that caught my attention from the first window of the right wing. Being the nosy person I was—I had no idea why I tiptoed over to the window because Kevin knew I was there—I pushed up on the pads of my toes and looked in.
The room appeared to be the laundry room where a woman was folding laundry. She looked up and we stared at each other before I looked away and kept on walking.
“You there!” I cringed when I heard someone call after me. “Who are you?”
“Lu!” Betsy rushed over to the woman who’d been folding laundry. Both of them stood next to the door that led from the breezeway. Betsy was excited. “She was the only employee
nice to me.”
“Lu,” I put my hand out to greet her. “Hi! Remember me?”
I didn’t know how this was going to play out, but I needed someone from the inside on my side.
“No. I don’t recall?” She eyed me suspiciously.
“I’m Betsy’s friend. I came for a sleepover a few times. Sadly, I’m the undertaker of Eternal Slumber in Sleepy Hollow. We are also the home of the county morgue and the sheriff had us extract some bones they’d found in a barn.” I looked down and tried to put a crack in my voice, “I came to tell Kevin that they were Betsy’s bones.” I did the sign of the cross like Granny always did, even though we didn’t have an ounce of Catholic religion in our own bones.
Immediately, Lu did the sign of the cross and fell to her knees. She started to pray and lift her hands up to the sky.
“Do it!” Betsy coaxed me.
My eyes darted back and forth to see if anyone else was around. When I saw the coast was clear, I fell to my knees and put my hands in the air like Lu. When I tried to make out what she was saying, it dawned on me that she was speaking in Spanish.
She reached over and grabbed my hands, jerking it in two quick motions to the sky before she said a word I knew.
“Amen.” She kissed her fingers. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.” I could throw a good tear or two. It was something a good undertaker could do if needed. “I’m also sad to report that it appears that Betsy was killed. Murdered.”
“Please stop being mean.” Betsy looked up at me like I’d lost my mind.
Lu gasped. “No. No.” She shook her head. “Who would harm such a sweet little girl?”
“I’m hoping to find that out.” It was time for me to plant the little seed. “Not only because I was best friends with Betsy,” I tried to read Lu’s face when I said that to see if she bought it, “but also because I want to find out who did this senseless act to our friend.” I reached out to offer a loving hand to Lu. “As a professional I have to find out who did this.”
“Poor, poor, Kay.” Lu glanced up at me from underneath her brows.
I couldn’t be sure if she was buying my act of childhood friendship, but I felt like she was.
“Yes. Kay is devastated.” A long deep sigh escaped my body. “She’s taking it pretty hard. In fact, she’s the one who told me I should come here and ask Kevin some questions.”
“She did?” Lu drew back as if I’d just accused him of killing Betsy.
“She did,” I confirmed. “I remember Betsy not liking him at all.”
“But. . .” Betsy tried to interrupt me. I kept on talking.
“Yes. I remember Betsy saying that he wanted her gone. Wanted to send her off to school. Out of his hair so he could have Kay all to himself.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Betsy ghost away.
“I never recalled a bad relationship between Kevin and Betsy. I remember him not wanting to have his own children, but I also remember very vividly all the toys he’d bring her back from his travels as well as the lavish parties he’d throw for her friends.” Lu’s eyes drew up and down me. “If you were such good friends with Betsy as you say you were, then you’d know about the parties.”
I glanced around. Where did Betsy go? My mind raced. Had she lied to me? Had that little girl used her cute little ghost ways to make me feel sorry for her and not stay focused on the case? There was something fishy going on.
“It’s hard to remember. It was twenty years ago.” Why had Betsy remembered Lu when she couldn’t remember anyone else?
Chapter Fifteen
The day was slipping by and with Betsy disappearing on me, there wasn’t much I could do without asking her a few questions. I really wanted to try and get her to remember more about the day she was taken. There was a niggling feeling that Kevin was more involved than he wanted to or cared to admit.
There wasn’t much more I could do until I talked to her, so I wanted to go see Granny before I hung out with Jack Henry for the night. I also wanted to tell her about how he was thinking about going to the state police. Knowing her, she’d give me some offbeat advice and I’d be wasting my time.
Instead of parking at the Sleepy Hollow Inn, I went ahead and parked the hearse at the funeral home and walked across the square. It was actually turning out to be a nice night that wasn’t too cool. You could never tell about the seasons in Kentucky. One minute it was hot, the next minute it was cold and possibly snowing.
It was the strangest sight not seeing at least one of the Sleepy Hollow Inn’s guests sitting in one of the rocking chairs. Granny provided a nice quilt that hung on the back of the rocker in case the guests got cold while rocking.
I walked up the steps and heard voices coming from inside. When I opened the screen door and walked in, I noticed the guests were in the gathering room and none too happy.
“What’s going on?” I asked Hettie Bell.
“Your granny.” Her right eyebrow rose. “She asked me about the juices I drink in the morning.”
“Yeah?” I tried to look above the crowd and the rumbling of grumblings.
“She decided that she needs to fit into a different wedding dress and the only way to do that is to get all the snacks out of the gathering room,” she said as calm as could be.
The crowd parted and in straight view was Granny. She was in a wedding dress that was too small for her and pinned with large safety pins. She held a glass of something green that looked as nasty as it would taste. There was a big leaf or some sort of garnish sticking out of it. She used it to slowly stir the concoction and moseyed her way over to me leaving the guests to check out the new juicer bar that she’d apparently put in place of her homemade sweet tea.
“Here.” She shoved the glass in my face. “It’ll jump start your metabolism. Since you aren’t getting married before thirty,” she leaned forward, “because your body changes after thirty, you’re gonna need one of those every day.”
“What is wrong with you?” I asked. “Why can’t you be that cute little southern granny that makes cookies, reads books, knits, and goes to bed at a reasonable hour?”
“That sounds god-awful,” she said with heavily rouged red lips. “What do you think of my new dress?”
The wedding dress was snow white. It was meant to be skin tight from the bosom to the hips and flare out. Granny’s body type was not fitting into the dress.
“I think it doesn’t fit.” Lines creased in my forehead as my brows dipped. “I think you need a nice dress that will go with your age and your body type.”
“Third time’s a charm,” she chirped and gulped down the drink.
“And you can’t be giving people green juices just because you can’t control your urges.” I clapped my hands to get everyone’s attention. “Hi,” I put my hand in the air when the guests faced me. “I’ll be right out with some cocktails, sweet tea and some snacks as you wait for your supper.”
I grabbed Hettie Bell by the arm and dragged her down the hall with me, Granny nipping on my heels.
“Emma Lee Raines,” she snapped at me. “You can’t just come in here like a bull and take over. This here is my inn.”
“This inn is your home and income. If you don’t take care of your guests, you won’t have any.” I pushed myself through the door behind Hettie and grabbed the large pot to start the water to boil for the sweet iced tea Granny was known for. “Hettie, can you get together a few finger sandwiches with some pimento cheese and cut them into triangles.”
She nodded and got to work.
“Now, what are you cooking for supper?” My brow cocked at Granny.
She stood there with a scowl on her face. I walked over to the hooks and grabbed an apron off the wall. I threw it at her.
“I don’t want you to get anything on that dress because once supper is cooked and served, we are taking that thing back where you got it.” I noted and grabbed the tea leaves and sugar jar.
“I got it from the new wedding boutique that opened
up next to Burns Funeral.” She told me something I’d not yet heard. “If you even had an inkling of getting married, you’d have heard about it.”
“It is all the rage right now. I’ve heard so many people are dying to get married just so they can hire them.” Hettie slapped the pimento cheese on the bread and spread it quickly. “Southern Roots.”
“Huh?” I asked and used the big scoop to dig out the sugar. I’d never ever tried to count the calories in Granny’s sweet tea, but I knew it was a lot.
“Southern Roots is the name of the boutique. They also have a planning consultant in there.” Hettie used the knife to cut the specialty bread in triangles and place them on the serving trays and tiers Granny used before she lost her mind.
Out of the corner of my eye, Granny was checking on the pot roasts she’d put in all the ovens. I was at least glad to see that she’d done right by the guests and made some home cooking.
“What about some do-drop biscuits?” I asked and pulled the flour jar out when I put the sugar jar back.
Granny’s eyes snapped when she looked at the jar. It was her subtle way of telling me she wasn’t happy, but she knew I was right.
“So this is how it’s gonna be?” I leaned a hip on the counter. “Does Doc Clyde know that you went on some juicing diet?” I started to throw questions at her. “This marriage isn’t just about you. He likes you just the way you are. Sweet tea and the smell of cinnamon and all.”
Granny didn’t think I knew her little secret. She liked to sprinkle some cinnamon and sugar on her hair so when she bent over to talk to one of her suitors, she smelled like homemade cookies because she knew men loved her cooking.
“You’re being a mean old biddy,” she squawked and tried to contain a smile.
“I will be thirty in a couple of days.” I laughed and it was contagious because she started to laugh too.
As the two of us went about getting supper ready for the guests and Hettie got them seated at the tables as well as other dinner guests from the community, I decided to tell her about Jack Henry and the bomb he’d dropped on me.