Downright Dead Read online

  Jake rubbed his hand over the stubble on his face. “Why do you suppose she left that out but wanted you to know she’d heard you in the hall?”

  “Let’s hope she doesn’t tell Buster the rest of her story or he’ll have the cuffs ready for me.”

  “Right.” Jake scrolled to the bottom of the list. “Sylvia and Bob say they were together. That leaves Liz and Thomas without alibis.”

  “Or a strong motive.” Holly paced to stand beside the desk and face Jake. “Someone is not telling the truth, but who?”

  “I’ve been doing a little research that may give us some context but not really a motive.”

  She yawned.

  “Why don’t you get a couple hours of sleep and we’ll talk about this tomorrow?”

  “It is tomorrow.” She walked over to the bed and stretched out, then propped her head up on her elbow. Jake swallowed hard. All of a sudden that bed looked much more inviting.

  “What did you find out?” she asked.

  “Not a lot.” He took her in. Why did he wait so long to come back? “Mostly background stuff. Sylvia has been married three times. Divorced three times.”

  “No surprise there.”

  “Her contract expires the end of this season, so she couldn’t afford bad PR with Tru’s debunking.”

  “Liz told me that.” Holly folded her hands under her head.

  “Um, this sharing info goes both ways, right?” Jake motioned between him and her.

  “I didn’t know that tidbit would be part of an investigation then.”

  “Don’t hold back.”

  “Sylvia was convinced Tru wouldn’t be able to debunk my ghost. I think she bet her career on it. Unfortunately, she gambled with the reputation of all of us involved in the ‘Ghost in the Grove’ episode.”

  “Including the crew.” Jake leaned in to read the screen. “Looks like Bob has never married. He had a long-term relationship with a trainer. Did you know he was a champion bodybuilder?”

  Holly’s eyes looked heavy. “Doesn’t surprise me. Have you seen that guy’s arms?”

  A twinge of jealousy pricked Jake. If he left her in Delta Ridge for months at a time, would she eventually find someone else? “Did you know he started training at a federal prison?”

  Holly jerked up and propped on her elbows. “For what?”

  “He and his brother ran a chop shop of some sort and got busted for chopping stolen cars. His brother is back in prison and Bob went straight. Not even a speeding ticket in the last five years.”

  “How’d he go from chop shop to videographer?”

  “He was the assistant videographer for the prison TV station while he was there and liked it. Inquiring Minds has a policy to hire convicts as part of their PR. He’s been there ever since he got out of prison.”

  “Hmm.” Holly twirled a curl around her finger. “No violence in his record?”

  “Unless he has a juvenile record.” Jake lifted a shoulder. “I can’t see that.”

  “What about Liz?”

  “Never married. Cat lover according to her Facebook page. Runs marathons. Ivy League. BA in journalism. She dabbles in writing. No criminal record. She doesn’t even have a driver’s license.”

  “Sounds pretty nonviolent.”

  Jake nodded. “Thomas is married to Chris St. Claire.”

  “Is it a law enforcement thing to mention the marital status first?”

  Jake shrugged. “It’s pertinent information.”

  “I guess so.”

  “He isn’t on any social media. Considering his age that’s not surprising.”

  “But a little odd since he’s invested in tech companies. I hear some tech people don’t use social media because of privacy concerns. Do you think he has something to hide?”

  “No criminal records. No records or newspaper mentions prior to about thirty years ago, which I find odd. He should at least have an employment record. His birth certificate is sealed, so I guess he was adopted.”

  “Hmm.” Holly gnawed at her pink lip. “He told Miss Alice he was from somewhere around Natchez.”

  “I’m going to dig into that. The past thirty years he’s been in tech startups and done well. Low-profile guy. His retirement hobby is building airplanes and traveling, according to a magazine article.” Jake glanced over at Holly.

  Eyes closed, she lay sound asleep on fresh sheets that now looked very inviting.

  * * *

  Holly woke to the doorbell and Rhett barking. Rhett sounded far away, but he always slept with her. Still groggy, she rolled over to look at her Seth Thomas clock. She came face-to-face with Jake.

  “Morning, sweetheart,” he said as though it was the most natural thing in the world.”

  Holly shot out of bed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was sleeping.” He lifted up on an elbow and the sheet fell from his shoulder, exposing a well-toned chest.

  She licked her lips. Well, that’s not something I usually wake up to.

  Holy moly. She looked around the room. Not her room. A guest suite. She’d been stone-cold sober last night. How’d she get in bed with Jake and what did she miss?

  Holly looked down at the same clothes she’d had on last night. Relief trickled through her. At least, I didn’t miss that.

  She reviewed the last things she could remember before she passed out. Angel on the roof burning some sort of herb. Her alibi. Knocking on Jake’s door. Oh, yeah. “I must have fallen asleep.”

  “More like passed out,” he said with a sly smile.

  She wiped her hand over her mouth, hoping she didn’t have drool running down her chin. Lordy, she couldn’t imagine what a rat’s nest her hair was. And her breath! No man should witness any of this without the benefit of sex.

  The doorbell chimed again followed by a flurry of Rhett’s barks. Poor thing had slept in the house alone in all the chaos last night.

  She dashed for the door and trotted down the hallway as she fished her phone out of her pocket. Nine-thirty! Was she the last person up? She picked up her pace. Maybe all her guests had been as exhausted as she was and slept in, too.

  The delicious scent of bacon hit her as she jogged down the stairs. Bless Nelda’s heart, she must have cooked breakfast.

  She peeked in the empty parlor on the way to the door. Whew. Maybe they are all still asleep.

  Rhett bounced around her feet like she’d been gone a week. She scooped him up and rubbed his head. “I’m such a bad mommy. I’m so sorry you had to sleep in the wild by yourself.”

  A loud knock came from the door. Rhett wiggled out of her arms and barked some more.

  She opened the door and found Mackie and Dog standing on her porch.

  Rhett bounced around Dog and ran through her legs.

  “What happened to you?” Mackie asked. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were hung over.”

  “Worse.” Holly opened the door wider and Mackie picked up his toolbox and came inside.

  “Come on, girl,” Mackie called to Dog. Dog lumbered in with Rhett still bouncing all around her. She sniffed Holly, then snorted.

  “Progress,” Holly said. “At least she didn’t growl.”

  “She’s been under the weather lately.” He patted Dog on her back. “She wouldn’t eat this morning. That’s why I brought her to work with me.”

  Dog had packed on some weight since Holly last saw her. “She looks like she’s been eating to me.”

  Mackie shrugged. “Maybe I just didn’t notice if she ate or not when I was on the bottle.”

  “Rhett has days he doesn’t eat much. I don’t think you need to worry.” She eyed Mackie’s toolbox. “You have no idea how glad I am you feel like finishing up the widow’s walk. You probably haven’t heard, but Tru fell off the widow’s walk last night.”

  “Whoa.” Mackie shook his head. “Not just through a soft spot like I did? You mean off the whole thing?”

  Holly nodded.

  “Guess he’s downright dead th
en.”

  Not exactly. “It was awful.” And I feel responsible.

  “What was he doing up there?”

  “Smoking a cigar after I told him it wasn’t safe up there. I even told him about how you fell through the decking into the attic.”

  “Now that’s addicted.” Mackie sniffed the air. “Is that bacon I smell?”

  “Yeah. Nelda must be cooking breakfast.” Holly motioned for him to come in. “Would you like some?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” He put his toolbox on the floor next to the staircase. “I couldn’t get to Dottie’s Diner this morning because the bayou is over the road. I can’t even get TV to see what’s going on in the world. That storm blew my antenna off.”

  “You’re probably the last person on earth who has an antenna.” She closed the door behind Mackie. “Why don’t you get cable?”

  “Because antenna TV is free. I don’t watch it much anyway. By the way, how was your show the other night? It wasn’t on free TV.”

  “A big hit.” Holly made a note to check her website for reservations. She was booked through the spring for now. Who knows what would happen after this thing with the debunking and Tru’s murder.

  Mackie’s face brightened as he looked past her.

  “Hey, Mackie,” Jake said, as he ambled down the stairs. “How’s it going?”

  “Hot dang!” Mackie grinned from ear to ear. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

  Her eyes weren’t sore and she liked what she saw. Jake’s bare feet, bed head, sleepy eyes, and two-day scruff on his face tweaked a sweet spot in her. Mercy.

  Mackie wrapped Jake in a hug. “Just over one hundred days sober.”

  Jake slapped him on the back. “That’s awesome.”

  “One day at a time.” Mackie’s eyes moistened. “My goal was to stay sober until you came back.”

  “Glad you did, because I need you to help me with something.” Jake guided Mackie outside to the front porch and closed the door behind them.

  She obviously wasn’t invited. Holly peeked out the window as they walked into the yard talking. What was Jake cooking up that he didn’t want her to know?

  * * *

  A clatter of pots and pans came from the kitchen. Nelda probably needed help with breakfast. She would fuss at her about sleeping late. All Holly wanted to do was give Nelda a hug for being there.

  Holly pushed through the swinging door and stopped short.

  Thomas wore Holly’s “Domestic Diva” apron and was on his knees digging through Nelda’s collection of what she called “dead people pots and pans.”

  “What are you doing?” Holly said as she marched across the kitchen.

  Thomas stood, holding a huge skillet by the handle. “Cooking breakfast.”

  “Why?” Not to mention Nelda would have a cat if anyone was cooking in her kitchen but her.

  He grinned. “We have to eat.”

  “You’re a guest. You shouldn’t have to do anything here.”

  “I might as well be useful.” He put the skillet on the gas stove and straightened the “Domestic Diva” apron.

  “No,” she said with a little more gusto than necessary, which she blamed on a lack of sleep. “I mean, I really appreciate the gesture and everything, but Nelda gets really testy when anyone is in her kitchen.”

  “If you don’t tell her, I won’t” He dropped a glob of butter in the skillet and lit the flame on the gas stove. “Everyone needs to eat, and I know Nelda was here yesterday early in the morning.” He eyed Holly. “And we all know what happened right in front of her last night. I’m sure you weren’t expecting her to work today.”

  “Of course not, but . . .”

  “So, it’s settled.” His cheeks lifted with a smile. “I’ll cook breakfast.”

  She did have hungry guests who’d had a rough night. There was no way she could even get to Dottie’s to pick something up. “Okay, but you better hope Nelda doesn’t catch you cooking in her kitchen.”

  “I did work as a short-order cook once upon a time.” The butter sizzled in the pan. “I’m fast.”

  “You better be,” she said, stretching her hand out to him. “Give me that apron in case she walks in. I’ll take the rap for you.”

  “This should be Divo for me anyway.” He handed over the apron.

  “I’ll help you make it go faster.” Holly tied the apron on. “Just tell me what to do.”

  “Help me find things. If Nelda has a nonstick pan I couldn’t find it.”

  “If it was made in the past hundred years Nelda probably doesn’t have it.”

  “How about a glass bowl to break these eggs in?”

  Holly dug out a large glass bowl and put it on the counter. “Anything else before I set the table?”

  Thomas cracked an egg in the bowl. “Would you look at that.”

  Holly peered in the bowl. “What?”

  “It’s so fresh.”

  Looked like any egg to her. “How can you tell?”

  “See how bright the yolk is and how high it stands and how the white of the egg is tight?”

  “Not really.”

  “These eggs are only days old.”

  “Nelda is picky about fresh eggs. She gets them from an organic farm down the road.” Holly lifted a shoulder. “Eggs look like eggs to me.”

  “When I was a kid, my mother raised chickens,” he said as he continued to crack eggs. “The difference is amazing.”

  “I’m amazed you’re small-talking with this old dude.” Tru materialized and propped his elbow against the kitchen counter next to Thomas.

  Holly jumped.

  Thomas turned down the flame under the sizzling butter. “Did it spatter on you?”

  “Uh, no. I mean maybe a little.” Who doesn’t jump when a ghost pops in for breakfast? She hoped he remembered rule number three if Nelda showed up soon.

  Thomas pointed the spatula at Holly. “Why don’t you stand back a bit? I don’t want you to get burned.”

  “Burned?” Tru shoved off his perch on the counter-top. “Aw, want me to kiss it?”

  Holly took a step back and eyed Tru. She should have known he’d show up again. Most of the soot had worn off, but his hair still looked a little fried.

  “Why don’t you ask him something important like did he kill me?”

  Behind Thomas’s back, Holly held her finger up to Tru and said, “Rule number one.” Then she covered her mouth and pointed to him.

  “Right.” Tru dragged out the word. “Your rules.”

  Holly nodded.

  “Pardon me?” Thomas turned around holding a knife.

  Tru threw himself on the knife then stumbled away, grabbing at his stomach.

  Holly cringed.

  “Gotcha.” Tru held his hands up to Holly. “No blood.”

  “Are you okay?” Thomas took a couple of steps toward her holding the knife.

  “You only die once, right?” Tru slapped his thigh and laughed.

  Not funny.

  Thomas stood within inches of her with the knife. “What’s the matter?”

  “Uh . . .” She cleared her throat. “I’m not myself. I was just thinking about everything that happened last night.”

  “And you’ve got a guy who could be a murderer in your kitchen holding a knife. Possibly poisoning your food.” Tru scratched his head. “And you’re chitchatting about eggs? Who is this guy anyway? What do you know about him? Don’t cozy up with the enemy.”

  “If there is anything I can do to help you get through this,” Thomas waved the knife through the air, “just say the word.”

  “Tell him to confess,” Tru said.

  “I’m okay.” Holly swallowed hard and took a step back from Thomas. “Why don’t you let me do the chopping so you can concentrate on cooking.”

  He flipped the knife around like a Japanese chef and handed it to her handle first. “Safety first.”

  “Right,” she said in a croaky voice as she took the knife from him. Why had
she let her guard down with this guy? Sure, she’d liked him, but Tru had been murdered.

  Thomas returned to the stove and stirred the eggs, leaving her with her thoughts.

  Tru was right. Just because Thomas was likable and nice, she couldn’t be less suspicious of him than the others. She really didn’t know much about him.

  Jake had said there was no record of Thomas the first thirty-five years of his life. Was he in the witness protection program? On the lam?

  “I just want to know what really happened,” Holly said.

  “Me too.” Thomas dumped the eggs out on a plate. “I heard someone pushed him because of what happened at the séance, but why would someone do that if Tru didn’t have the memory card to debunk the ghost? It makes no sense to kill him.”

  “That’s what the judge said.” Holly wrinkled up her brows. “But how did you know about the memory card?”

  “Bingo.” Tru snapped his fingers. “That guy is the one who picked up my spy glasses from the floor after the camera goon decked me. He knows because he stole it.”

  But Bob had knocked them off. He could have stolen the card, too.

  Holly eyed Thomas. “Who told you a memory card was stolen?”

  “We’ve all been talking.” Thomas shrugged. “Some of it is pretty far out there.”

  “Like what?” Had Miss Alice been talking? Buster?

  “Oh, just talk.” He pulled a tray of biscuits out of the oven.

  A banging sound came from upstairs.

  Thomas stopped and listened. “Did you hear that?”

  Mackie must have started working on the widow’s walk.

  The kitchen door swung open and Liz poked her head in. Tension pinched her face. “You’ve got to open Bob’s door,” she said, breathless. “He’s not answering his phone or his door.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Have you looked everywhere in the house and on the grounds?” Holly asked as she trudged up the stairs with Liz. Bob had to be around somewhere unless he had a pirogue to get across the end of the blacktop.

  “I’ve looked,” Liz said. “Besides, he’d have his phone.”

  Sylvia met them at the top of the stairs. She wore a white satin robe and matching slippers.