Easy come easy ghost, p.16
Easy Come, Easy Ghost, page 16
part #8 of The Ghost Detective Collection Series
“Oh, sweetheart.” Joyce tried to comfort her daughter, but of course she was incorporeal, her concern invisible.
“I know this is hard.” I had to clear my throat to get past the lump. Or maybe it was the coffee burn. “But we really need to talk to your husband.”
“To Tom? Why?” Anne’s hand fluttered at her throat, while Tom straightened to his full height and glared at me. Kade rested a hand on my shoulder, and Tom’s eyes tracked the movement, not missing a thing.
“About what? I hadn’t seen Joyce since last week.”
“That’s not true,” Anne softly corrected him. “You saw her at breakfast the day she died. You told me so. When they called and said she’d…” She choked off on a sob, cheeks now wet with tears. “When I called you and you said what? But I only saw her this morning.”
“Yeah, right, but that doesn’t really count. I saw her from a distance. Gave her a wave. I didn’t even talk to her—she was having breakfast with her friends. You should talk to those crazy old broads. I bet they’re up to their eyeballs in this.”
“Hazel and Sally?” Anne was horrified. “They’re Mom’s best friends! Of course they didn’t have anything to do with her death. How can you say such a thing, Tom?”
“Uh, hello? Didn’t they drag her corpse onto the golf course?”
“Tom!” Anne cried at the harshness of his words.
I admit, calling your mother-in-law a corpse in such an offhanded way was far from sympathetic.
“Sorry.” He had the grace to look contrite. “I’m a paramedic. I see death all the time. I could have worded that better.” He wrapped a comforting arm around his wife and hugged her. “Anyway, my point is, Hazel and Sally are the ones who saw her last. They had breakfast with her. It only makes sense that it was one of them who slipped the Visine into her drink.”
Kade and I exchanged a look while Anne pulled away from her husband. “How do you know that?” she whispered. “I never told you.”
“Told me what?”
“That Joyce Harrison died from an overdose of tetrahydrozoline, aka eye drops,” Kade said.
“That!” Anne pointed at Kade, her arm shaking. “That. What he said. That someone poisoned her with eye drops… I never told you that.”
“Did you kill Joyce?” I blurted.
Tom looked at me, his expression a mixture of confusion and shock.
“What? No, of course not!” he exclaimed. Anne’s eyes widened, and she took a step back.
“’Atta girl!” Joyce whooped, slapping me on the back, the icy shards of her touch temporarily freezing my lungs, so the breath I sucked in was raspy and loud, sending me into a coughing fit. I nudged Kade, silently telling him to take over while I tried to catch my breath.
“You were at the café that morning, correct?” Kade asked. “And did you, or did you not, send over a round of drinks to your mother-in-law and her friends?”
Tom cleared his throat. “Well, yeah. It was a friendly gesture. We didn’t have time to stop and chat—and Lord knows Joyce loves nothing more than a good old chinwag—you know that’s true, Anne.” Anne nodded but didn’t say anything and Tom continued. “Me and my partner stopped by to grab a takeout coffee, like I said, we didn’t have time to stop and chat, so I asked the guy behind the counter to send them over a round of drinks—whatever they’d ordered for breakfast.”
“Orange juice,” Anne whispered. “Mom always had orange juice for breakfast. Swore the vitamin C kept colds and flu at bay.”
“It’s true, it does. I hardly ever caught a cold,” Joyce declared with a lot of head nodding and crossing her arms over her chest. “You should try it, Audrey. It’ll keep you strong and healthy.”
“Orange juice would effectively disguise the taste of tetrahydrozoline,” Kade said. “A fact you would be very well aware of.”
Tom looked wary, but he nodded. “Sure,” he said, his voice guarded.
“Let’s be real here. You had means, and you had opportunity.” I’d gotten my breath back. “The only piece that’s missing is motive. Care to share why you killed your mother-in-law?”
Tom looked at me, his eyes wide with shock. “What? I didn’t kill Joyce! Why would you even think that?”
Anne half gasped, half screamed, making me jump.
“What? What is it?” I asked her, but she was staring at her husband as if she’d never seen him before.
“I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “Oh my God, I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Anne?” She looked like she was going to pass out. “Here, sit, sit.” I cleared space for her on the sofa and pushed her down. “Shove your head between your knees.”
“You kept asking me about Mom’s will. What her assets were.” Anne wasn’t talking to me, she was talking to her husband, and that final piece fell into place. She’d told me in the garden how much they were struggling financially. And Joyce said she had a nice little nest egg that was Anne’s inheritance.
“You killed her for the money,” I said.
Tom’s face went pale, and I could see the guilt written all over it.
“What I don’t understand is why kill her? She was helping you out anyway, giving money to Anne every week to help with the bills. Unless…”
“Unless he needed a lump sum,” Kade interjected. “You needed a substantial amount of money, and you needed it fast.”
“Please tell me you didn’t,” Anne cried, face pale and wet with tears. “Tell me you didn’t!”
Tom hesitated for a moment, and I could see the panic in his eyes. “I’m sorry!” He ran his hands through his hair and turned away, voice thick with anguish. “I’m sorry.”
“Just tell us why,” I said softly, needing to understand what was so important that he had to kill his wife’s mother.
“He’s a gambler,” Anne said, voice devoid of emotion, as if the life had been sucked out of her. “He promised he had it under control. That’s why we were borrowing money from Mom.”
I shared a look with Kade, who was already two steps ahead of me. “I’m guessing you were gambling away your paycheck every week, and then what? You borrowed money? Only you didn’t win. You kept losing. And I’m guessing that debt came due, and you had no way of repaying it. Right?” Kade said.
“They were going to hurt me unless I paid up!” Tom cried. “Anne, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. This is all my fault.”
Anne burst into tears, long, loud sobs, her whole body heaving with the force of her anguish.
“Why didn’t he just ask me for the money?” Joyce said, voice tinged with sadness. “I’d probably have given it to him. Maybe.”
“Why didn’t you ask Joyce for the money?” I dutifully asked, for Joyce had a point.
“Because of my stupid pride. And she would have lorded it over me every chance she got.”
Joyce nodded. “Very true. I would have.”
At least she was honest.
“So you figured the best course of action was to murder her? You realize the will has to go through probate, that you don’t get your hands on the money immediately?” Kade pointed out.
“I was hoping it would be enough to hold them off before they broke my legs.”
Kade snorted. “For a seemingly intelligent man, you’re pretty stupid. How do you think loan sharks make a living? By charging exorbitant interest rates. The longer your loan is overdue, the more you owe. And for them to be threatening you with bodily harm, I’m guessing you are waaaaay overdue. Will your wife’s inheritance even cover it?”
“Most of it.”
From out of nowhere, Anne launched at him. One minute she was on the sofa, sobbing, the next she was screeching like a banshee and flying through the air, nails raking Tom’s face while she kicked and punched at him.
“You selfish jerk!” she screamed, her voice so loud dogs three blocks away would have heard her. “I hate you! I hate you for taking her from me and then stealing what was mine. You are a piece of crap.”
“Whoa!” I staggered back, taken off guard by her violent outburst. Not that I blamed her, not one bit.
“Go on girl, you get him,” Joyce cheered her on. “Don’t forget the knee to the gonads like I taught you!”
“Okay, okay, enough,” Kade yelled, grabbing Anne around the waist and pulling her off her husband.
“What in tarnation is going on?” Hazel said from the doorway, Sally peering over her shoulder, eyes huge.
“Ladies, now isn’t the best time.” Kade grunted as Anne twisted and struggled against his hold.
“What are you doing to Anne?” Hazel charged forward, Sally hot on her heels. “Release her this instant!”
Hazel’s concern must have penetrated Anne’s rage filled outburst because she suddenly slumped in Kade’s arms. He held her steady for a moment. “Okay?” he asked, peering into her face.
She nodded. “Sorry. I just… I just…”
“Saw red. I get it.” Kade steered her toward me, where I seated her on the sofa again, this time keeping one hand on her shoulder in case she felt the urge to beat her husband to a pulp. Not that it wasn’t justified, and not because I was concerned for Tom. More that I didn’t want Anne accidentally hurting herself. It hurts when you punch someone—she could break a finger.
“I repeat,” Hazel huffed. “What in tarnation is going on?”
“Tom killed Joyce,” I said bluntly. “He needed the inheritance Anne would get to cover his gambling debts.”
“But Paul Wilson killed her!” Sally blurted. “Didn’t he?”
Kade and I shook our heads. “All Paul Wilson is guilty of is playing the part of an ugly sister in a play,” Kade said. He looked at me. “You got this? I’m going to call it in.”
“I’ve got it,” I assured him, watching while Hazel and Sally got all up in Tom’s business, demanding answers. Answers he spilled all too willingly. He was a broken man, collapsing into an armchair while the two women crowded in on him. I whipped out my phone and hit record, just in case he had a change of heart after he was arrested and recanted his confession.
“Well,” Joyce said from beside me. “I guess that is that.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “I’m sorry it turned out this way.”
“I’m not. We got the truth. Anne finally got to see the man her husband really is. A liar and a thief.”
“And a murderer.”
“And a murderer,” she echoed. A flash of bright light filled the room, and Joyce gasped. “Is that for me?”
I nodded. “It’s for you.”
“Is it okay to go?” She took a step toward the light, then stopped and turned back, her eyes on her daughter, who was slumped on the sofa with her head in her hands. “I should stay with Anne.”
“She’ll be fine,” I assured her. “Sad, but fine. Sally and Hazel will look out for her.”
A big smile spread across her face as she looked at her two friends, currently berating Tom. “Yeah, they will. Say goodbye to them for me.”
“I will.”
With a final wave, Joyce stepped into the light. I returned the wave, letting my arm drop when I realized Anne was watching me.
“Was that Mom?” she whispered.
“Yeah,” I whispered back. “She crossed over.”
“I felt her go. Ever since she died, I kinda felt her around me, you know? But just now, there was this big rush of love, like she was holding me, and then…”
“She crossed. She’s at peace.”
Chapter Twenty
“You have got to be kidding me!”
“What’s up?” Kade pulled the seatbelt low and tight across his hips.
“Dead Guy’s here,” I grumbled, snapping my seatbelt closed and glaring at the dead man in the seat next to me. “Are you following me?”
Dead Guy snorted. “Why would I follow you? You are the least interesting person I know.”
“You don’t know me,” I grumbled.
“And I don’t want to.” He turned his head to look out the window, giving me an uninterrupted view of his horrific head injury.
Trying not to gag, I turned away. “Rude.”
“Audrey? Babe?” Kade’s hand on my thigh reminded me we were not alone on the plane and I was doing it again. Talking to ghosts no one else could see.
“You know, despite everything, I had a good time in Chicago.” I smiled. Meeting his parents had been a blast, and I genuinely liked them. Dennis had turned up with the local police to arrest Tom, and Sylvia had tagged along, eager to catch up with Hazel and Sally, who’d been more than willing to tell her everything that had transpired. Our last day in Chicago had brought with it gray skies and drizzling rain, so we’d spent the day playing board games and ordering takeout, and it had been perfect.
“Good. I’m glad.” Kade leaned over and kissed me. “Just think, the next time we’ll be on a plane, it’ll be our honeymoon.”
My heart skipped a beat. Our honeymoon. It was so surreal, I couldn’t believe it was happening. I had a dress. We had a plan to deal with Amanda. My anxiety levels had decreased, and I was no longer stressing over the wedding. In fact, I was looking forward to it.
“I love you, future Mrs. Galloway,” Kade whispered, resting his forehead against mine.
“Yeah, about that. How do you feel about being Mr. Fitzgerald?”
“I will be anything you want me to be.” He didn’t bat an eye, and I burst out laughing.
“No need. I’m more than happy being Mrs. Galloway.” Entwining my fingers with his, I leaned back, paying scant attention to the stewardess conducting the safety demonstration in the aisle.
“You should pay attention to that,” Dead Guy said. “Might come in handy one day.”
“Why? Do you know something I don’t?”
He hesitated. “Maybe.” He disappeared before I could question him further, leaving me to spend the entire flight home gripping the armrests until my fingers ached. It wasn’t until we were disembarking and I glimpsed him laughing his head off that I realized he’d played me.
“Ghosts can be such assholes,” I whispered under my breath, following Kade to baggage claim.
“Tell me about it,” a woman to my left said. I jerked around in surprise. There, standing next to me, was a bride. A bride with a big red stain on her pristine white gown and a gaping hole in her abdomen.
“Are you an… omen?” I’m not ashamed to admit I was horrified. Was she a sign that Kade and I shouldn’t be getting married? For just when everything was falling into place and I was feeling good about things, she turned up.
“What on earth are you talking about?”
“You’re wearing a wedding dress. You’re clearly getting married. I’m about to get married…” I trailed off, leaving her to connect the dots.
To my surprise, she burst out laughing. “No, silly. I’m not a bride. I’m a model. And I was murdered.”
“A model? Are you part of the bridal expo that’s meant to be coming to Firefly Bay next week?”
“Oh, I see you’ve heard of me.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, preening.
“Erm, not you, personally.”
“Oh.” She waved a hand. “Well, anyway, that doesn’t matter. Word on the street is that you’re the ghost whisperer. I need you to find out who killed me.”
“Word on the street? Like, do you guys have a ghostly bulletin board or something?”
“Or something. I woke up dead. I need you to find out why. Before another body drops.”
“Before a—wait, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I think I know who killed me, and they’re going to kill again.”
Are you ready for book nine, Life Ghost On? Order it here: www.JaneHinchey.com/LifeGhostOn
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