An Ex to Grind in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 5) Paperback – September 4, 2014 (27 page)

I looked up at the attic window. There was nobody standing there looking out, but I knew that Prudence waited inside; I just couldn’t see her. Thinking about that gave me a rash of chills. I dropped my hands from the steering wheel before Honey noticed my goosebumps.

“If you two are ready, I’ll take you on a tour of the house.” The lockbox still hung from the front door, and I knew the code by heart. Wanda was staying with her sister until closer to the final move-out date. She’d left most of the furnishings in the place for now, according to what she had told me on the phone a week ago.

“I can’t wait to see the inside,” Honey said, shoving open the door.

I could. The plush shag rugs, birch floors, stained glass, and impressive staircase had lost their appeal.

“You say this place is haunted?” Dickie asked as we climbed the porch steps.

“That’s the rumor,” I told him, punching in the code. I held open the door and followed them inside. The place smelled like caramel mixed with vanilla today. My sweet tooth panged in my mouth. “I have a favor to ask of you two.”

“Sure,” Honey said, digging her video camera out.

I wasn’t sure how to make this request without creating more questions, so I spit it out. “Don’t touch me while we’re in here.”

I shut the door and locked it.

They both turned, frowning at me in unison.

Jinx
, I thought.

“I’m sorry,” Honey said, “if I made you uncomfortable in either of the other places. I didn’t mean to.”

“You didn’t,” I said with a smile, trying to smooth things over. “It’s an odd request that I have while we’re in this particular house.” When they both continued to frown at me without moving, I added, “I like my personal space buffer.”

“Does this have something to do with a ghost?” Dickie asked.

Definitely! “What do you mean?”

“I mean have you found that if you maintain a certain amount of space around you that you have more brushes with the ghost?”

It was the opposite actually, but he didn’t need to know it. “Yes, that’s it.”

He nodded. “I understand. I need a certain amount of space in order to make sure the interactions are pure.”

I gave them wide berth in the foyer and led them into the living room. “Notice the wrought iron vent grates and the original molding from when the house was built.”

Honey ooooohed.

Dickie whistled through his teeth. “Nice chandeliers.”

“Wow,” Honey walked around touching things, seeming to forget she had a camera clutched in one of her hands. “This place is beautiful.”

I told everyone so.

After touring them through the dining room and kitchen, I instructed them to head upstairs and I’d catch up in a minute, claiming the need to check my emails. As soon as I heard them talking upstairs, I scurried into the kitchen over by the stove, facing the slatted pantry doors.

“Prudence,” I whispered to the ceiling, feeling sort of like Samantha on
Bewitched
calling for her mother. “I need you to keep quiet today and not play any of your parlor tricks with my guests.” I started to walk away and then returned to my spot by the stove, looking up at the ceiling again. “Don’t bug me about finding the timekeeper either. I’ve no idea where you might have lost a watch. The ‘librarian’ you requested will be here soon.”

Zelda Britton, who was in the process of purchasing this place with her husband, was a librarian. If Prudence’s previous request for such a person meant something else, she would have to be mad at herself for being overly cryptic when giving me orders from beyond.

I found Dickie upstairs in Wanda’s bedroom, checking out her walk-in closet. The bare light bulb overhead flickered as I entered the small, elongated rectangular room

“You looking for a new dress?” I joked.

He chuckled. “Gingham is my favorite, you know.”

“I’m sure your fans would adore you in a nice red pattern.”

I thought I heard the floor creak out in the bedroom, but when I peeked out the closet doorway, nobody was there. I narrowed my eyes, hoping Prudence was going to be a good girl today.

Dickie touched the sleeve of one of Wanda’s black and yellow gingham dresses. “Really? I always thought black was more my color.”

I’d noticed that. I led the way out of the closet.

He looked around the room with its antique headboard and dressers and soft beige tones. “It’s hard to believe all of that violence you told us about happened in this house. It feels so serene, so calm.”

I thought of my last encounter with Prudence here and held in a snort. “The owner has taken wonderful care of it over the years in spite of the violence.”

That made me wonder if Prudence had been whispering in Wanda Carhart’s ear all of these years on the decorating. To look at Wanda and her
Little House on the Prairie
outfits, one wouldn’t think of her as knowing how to deck out a house, yet this place deserved to be the cover model for an antique homes magazine. The woman had trouble keeping ice cube trays in the fridge, for Pete’s sake.

We strolled out into the hall.

“Is that the attic?” Dickie pointed at the door in the ceiling. At my nod, he asked, “May we go up there?”

I hesitated. I thought of the attic as Prudence’s lair and wasn’t sure she’d like me allowing these strangers to trudge around up there. On the other hand, there were some interesting antiques up there and I was pretty certain Honey would enjoy getting some of it on film. In the end, my boss’s wishes for me to make Dickie and Honey happy won out over Prudence’s wishes. After all, it was a minor blip in her world.

“Sure.” I grabbed the broomstick handle with a hook on the end and handed it to Dickie, careful not to get too close. “Just be careful on the ladder. It’s a little rickety.”

“Honey?” Dickie called as he pulled open the attic door.

I unfolded the attached ladder for him.

“Honey, where are you?” he called again.

“Maybe she’s in one of the other two bedrooms.” I brushed off my hands. “I’ll go check while you head up.”

I made sure Dickie made it up the ladder okay and then headed off in search of Honey. She was nowhere to be found. I even returned to Wanda’s room and checked the closet, but found it empty as well.

“You okay up there?” I called to Dickie as I passed by the attic ladder.

I heard a sneeze, and then, “Yeah. There’s lots of interesting furniture up here. Tell Honey to hurry up before my lungs fill with dust.”

If I could find her, I’d happily deliver the message. I was anxious to get the hell out of the house before my lungs filled with panic.

“Honey?” I called, walking down the stairs.

The front living room was empty, as was the dining room. “Honey?”

I stepped into the kitchen and found Honey standing with her back to me next to the stove, almost exactly where I’d stood fifteen minutes before.

“There you are,” I said, walking around in front of her. She had the camera held arm’s length in front of her at an awkward angle, eyelevel yet tipping to the left. The red record light was blinking, so I tried to keep out of the shot. “Oops, sorry about that, Ho—”

Then I looked into her face and choked on the rest of her name. Her eyes were rolled back, white. Her jaw hung slack with a line of drool running down one side of her mouth.

“Honey?” I whispered and reached out toward her. Then I remembered where I was and pulled back, afraid of who would start talking if I touched her.

“Honey,” I said in a stronger voice. “Can you hear me?”

The drool stretched down to her collarbone.

I looked around, saw a jar of wooden spoons next to the stove, and grabbed one. I poked her in the ribs. “Honey,” I said, “come back.”

The camera tipped further. I reached for it, afraid she’d let go in her trance. Extracting it from her hand, I placed it on the counter, and hit the Stop button on top of it. It dinged twice.

A gasp from Honey dragged my focus back to her face. Her eyelids fluttered, her mouth opening and closing.

Crap, what was going on in her head? I suspected this was Prudence’s doing, but what if Honey was diabetic or epileptic? I dropped the spoon and grabbed her by the shoulders, squeezing, throwing my Prudence aversion aside. “Honey, open your eyes,” I said in a calm, firm voice.

Her eyelids continued to flutter, but her mouth stopped its dying fish routine.

“Honey, if you can hear me,” I thought of something that might pull her back from wherever, “Dickie needs you up in the attic to film some antiques.”

Her eyes closed. She started to lean backwards, pulling me forward until I stumbled on the toes of her boots, but then I caught the counter and braced myself. She seemed to snap back upright, almost head butting my chin.

She coughed and gasped a couple of times before meeting my gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that? What?”

“Do you remember anything that happened in the last few minutes?”

She touched her jaw, and then frowned down at her hand. “Yuk, is there something on my chin?”

“You were drooling.”

“Oh, gross! I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Do you have any medical conditions that would cause you to have a seizure?”

She leaned back against the counter, shaking her head.

I put my arm around her shoulders. “Let’s get you into the sitting room and settled on the couch. I’ll bring you something to drink.”

She let me lead her out of the kitchen. “How long was I out?”

“I don’t know.” I pointed at the leather sofa, moving her toward it. “I walked in the kitchen a few minutes ago and found you looking catatonic, holding the …” Wait a second. I remembered the way the camera was pointing. She’d been filming herself. “Out of curiosity, when prepping for a show like this, do you ever film yourself talking into the camera?”

“No.” Honey dropped into the couch cushions, her frown deepening. “I was in the kitchen.”

“I know.” I thought we’d established that already.

“No, you don’t understand,” she leaned back into the cushions, covering her eyes with the heels of her hands. “The last thing I remember is filming that upstairs bedroom that looks out over that huge pit next door.”

“You don’t remember coming down here?”

“No. I remember hearing you coming up the stairs as I focused on a weird drawing on the wall and that’s it. Then I woke up in the kitchen, drooling like a zombie.”

I’d seen plenty of zombies last month. She wasn’t anything close to them or I would have run screaming out the door.

“Was I filming when you found me?”

“I’m not sure,” I sort of fibbed. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure what had been going on when I walked in, and until I got a peek at the video, I wasn’t sure I wanted her to know what I thought I had seen.

“Where’s my camera?”

“In the kitchen. I’ll bring it when I get you some water.” She took a shaky breath. “Maybe we should drive you to the hospital, make sure you’re okay and didn’t have some kind of seizure.” Although I feared the “seizure” had been done by Prudence, not anything chemically or physically within Honey herself.

“Thanks, but I feel fine, Violet, just a little tired.”

“Tired?” I chewed on my lower lip. “That’s not good. It could be a sign of another episode coming on.”

“We can wait a few minutes longer,” Honey said, her breathing growing steadier. “I used to have panic attacks at my old job. I’ve learned a few tricks to level out my blood pressure.”

I stood at the edge of the white shag carpet, kneading my hands together. “I’ll go get some water. You relax there for a few minutes.”

Hustling into the kitchen, I went straight for the camera and took it into the pantry, closing the door behind me. Light filtered in through the slats. In the semi-gloom, I hit the Rewind button, counted to ten, and then hit Play. I adjusted the volume so only I could hear it.

I watched the video as Honey focused on the pit through the window, mentioning the depth I’d told her and how long it had sat abandoned.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, seeing Jerry’s name and a
How’s it going?
text. Now was not the time, Jerry, I thought and started to shove my phone in my pants again but then had an idea. I hit the button to record a video on my phone and held it close to the camera’s screen as Honey exited the bedroom.

The view on the screen was upside down now, though, and bumping as Honey walked along the upstairs hallway and down the stairs. She must not have realized she’d left it on. I leaned closer, trying to hear if she was commenting on anything, but there was nothing but a slight static as it bumped into her thigh with each step.

On the screen she made a straight shot for the kitchen, the staircase disappearing as Honey turned the corner at the threshold. I could see the upside down green refrigerator, including the apple magnet Wanda had left there with a note apologizing for the lack of ice trays.

Then the screen shifted violently as Honey lifted it, turning it around to focus on her chest and mouth.

“Where have you been, Violet?” When Honey spoke my name in the video, I almost peed my pants right there in Wanda’s pantry.

For one thing, Honey’s mouth moved like someone else was pulling strings to open and close her lower jaw. I’d seen that done before in this very house, and there was no getting used to the lightning bolt of fear that shot through me each time it happened.