Murder Hooks a Mermaid (11 page)

“I didn’t want to believe it, I wanted to think it was Bluebeard. But stuff was always out of place in the shop, and sometimes it was things Bluebeard couldn’t have moved. Then he started saying things that didn’t make any sense coming from a bird. Things Bluebeard couldn’t ever have heard.

“Parrots are smart,” I said, distracting myself from what came next. “But they only repeat things they’ve heard. They don’t learn words any other way.”

“Okay,” Jake said slowly. He kept his voice low. “But how do you go from the parrot saying something you don’t think he’s heard to you thinking it’s Uncle Louis? The guy taught Bluebeard to talk, didn’t he? How do you know he didn’t learn that from him thirty years ago?”

“It’s not just that,” I said, still not looking at him. “It’s
when
he says stuff, and
what
he moves.”

I turned around. It was suddenly important that Jake understand and believe what I was telling him. “Like the time last fall when I brought home this incredible antique quilt. I didn’t have a display place that was quite right, so I put it in the back until I was ready to put it out. Then a woman came in with a wad of dough she’d won over in Biloxi. She wanted to buy a quilt, and there was that antique sitting on the counter behind the register.

“I didn’t leave it there, I swear,” I said, watching his expression. “It was just there, in plain sight, when she walked through the door with cash in her hand. It was folded just as pretty as you please, and it was way too heavy for Bluebeard.”

“You still haven’t told me what Riley meant,” Jake said. Judging from his expression, he wasn’t dismissing my story, but he wasn’t ready to accept it, either.

If I was really going to trust Jake, I had to tell him about Kevin. He knew most of the story, as I quickly reminded him: how Karen and I had seen the aftermath of the single-car crash, how I didn’t believe it was an accident, and how, as Karen had pointed out earlier, I had nearly become Jimmy’s next victim.

“What started all of that was something Bluebeard said,” I confessed. “The night of the accident I came home and found the shop in a mess. Karen was with me. She saw it, too.”

“No wonder the break-in—” He paused to think. “—which was what, a couple days later? No wonder it upset you so much.”

I nodded, and continued with my story. “When we came in and found the shop trashed, Bluebeard said very clearly, ‘It wasn’t an accident.’ At first I thought he meant he’d trashed the shop on purpose, but I eventually had to admit he was talking about Kevin. And once I accepted that, I couldn’t let it go until I found out what really happened.

“There was something else. While the investigation was going on, Bluebeard kept yelling about a ‘bad man.’ At first I thought he meant Matt Fowler, but I finally figured out he meant Jimmy.”

“So, you’re telling me you have a ghost in your shop,” Jake said.

I nodded, and looked away.

“But he just says obscure things? And he moves stuff around? He doesn’t actually
tell
you what things mean, or answer questions?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know how it works. Maybe there are rules or something. Or maybe I would understand more if I knew more about Uncle Louis.” I sighed. “I’ve been trying to find out what I can about him, but there just isn’t much to find. He died almost twenty-five years ago, and there aren’t a lot of people around who still remember him. But you heard what he said this time: ‘People don’t just come back for no reason.’ There’s a reason he’s here; I just don’t know what it is.”

“I have to say,” Jake said, “that wasn’t quite what I expected. But I don’t know what I did expect.

“It’s actually kind of sweet, him hanging around.”

He put his hand on my shoulder, and I turned back to look at him. Judging by his expression, I hadn’t destroyed our friendship after all.

“So, who all knows about this ghost?” he asked. “Obviously Karen does, and she told Riley.”

“Linda,” I said. “Felipe and Ernie. They all found out when Kevin was killed. And now you.”

“I guess I’m in good company, then. And I’m flattered you trusted me enough to tell me.”

“And you don’t think I’m crazy?”

Jake tilted his head a little to one side, as though he were thinking hard. “Maybe a little, but I’ve learned to keep an open mind. I admit, I might be a lot more skeptical if I hadn’t heard what he said tonight.”

Just why had Bluebeard spoken up when we came in? The only other time he’d done something like that was with
Karen, and it had forced me into admitting my suspicions to her.

I was being played. By a bird. Okay, a bird and a ghost, working together, but I was being played.

“I think maybe he did that on purpose.”

“Would you have told me if he didn’t?” Jake asked.

“Probably.” I thought for a few seconds. “Yes. That’s why I asked you in, and I hope I wouldn’t have chickened out, even if Bluebeard hadn’t said anything.”

Jake tilted his head a bit more and moved closer.

Apparently he didn’t mind kissing a woman who might be just a little bit crazy.

Chapter 13

I KISSED JAKE GOOD NIGHT WHEN I WALKED HIM
downstairs, drawing a sleepy wolf whistle from Bluebeard, but no complaint that we were disturbing his night-time rest.

Jake just chuckled.

We had talked for a long time. Just talked. With my limited romantic history, I was wary, and Jake quickly recognized my reticence and respected it.

I locked the door behind Jake, trying not to think too hard about the change in our relationship. It was too soon to know where we were going.

Besides, I had another mystery to contemplate. Bluebeard had said people don’t come back for no reason, and I had no idea what Uncle Louis’s reason was. There must be something he wanted, or needed. I fell asleep wondering
what that something was that brought him back to Southern Treasures.

By morning I still had no idea, and I once again pushed the question of Uncle Louis to the back of my mind. I had a business to run, and the problems of Bobby, Riley, and Karen were a more immediate concern.

Julie worked behind the counter, but she didn’t seem able to settle down for very long. Her restlessness proved contagious, and I found myself rummaging through the shelves. I didn’t know what I was looking for and wasn’t sure I would recognize it when I found it. But I couldn’t sit still, either.

WBBY played in the background all day. Late in the day, the backup announcer was still on the air, and Julie asked about Karen.

“She’s dealing with this family business,” I told her. “I doubt she’ll be back until it’s settled.”

“But can she do that without getting fired? Will her boss
let
her do that?”

I laughed at her question. “The station manager doesn’t really have a choice, not with Karen. Short of firing the best on-air talent in the Panhandle, he doesn’t have much way of making her do anything. They’ve had a couple run-ins before,” I explained. “And Karen comes out on top every time. She’s just stubborn enough to get away with it.”

Julie looked uneasy. It was clear she was relating Karen’s family situation to her own. Julie, after all, was facing several weeks away from her jobs. She had every reason to worry whether they would still be there for her when she returned.

“Don’t look so worried,” I said. “Your job will be here
when you get back, whenever that is. You’re doing well here—I’ve seen you charming the customers—and I’ll be glad to have you back. And I know Frank feels the same way.”

Frank Beauford owned Frank’s Foods, where Julie had worked until she couldn’t stay on her feet any longer. He’d told me just a week ago that he was anxious to have her back.

“Thank you, Miss Glory,” Julie said.

It always made me feel ancient when she called me that, but it was the way polite southern youngsters were taught to address their elders. I didn’t feel that much older than Julie—except when she called me “Miss Glory.” Still, it could have been worse. At least she didn’t call me “ma’am.”

Julie rested her arm across her swollen belly. “But who’ll take care of her while I’m working?”

I laughed again. “I’ve seen your mama,” I told her. “She can’t hardly wait to get her hands on that grandbaby. She’s planning to spend a lot of time with her.”

I had an idea I’d been thinking about for several weeks. I’d talked it over with Julie’s mom, Anita, and we’d planned a surprise. “I’ve been thinking,” I said, “that there might be a way we could fix up a little nursery for her here at the shop. That way she could come to work with you, at least for a little while.”

I didn’t know much about babies, and I really wasn’t sure what all a nursery might involve, but I was willing to try if it would keep Julie working.

“At least through the summer,” I added. “That’s when I really need the help.”

“You’d do that for me?” Tears welled in her blue eyes. “Really?”

I shrugged. “Sure, if we can make it work. That way I
keep a good employee, and you have a little more flexibility with your babysitting. I mean, your mama wants to have her grandbaby around, but she can’t have her all the time, no matter how much she wants to.”

Anita had promised to babysit, but she still had her own responsibilities. She and Stan, Julie’s dad, owned a small motel, and there would be times she wouldn’t be able to keep the baby.

Julie waddled out from behind the counter and hugged me. “That is so sweet.” She pulled back and swiped her fingers under her eyes, flicking away the tears. “Can we”—she hesitated—“can we look at how we can do this?”

“Sure.” Now that I’d told her about it, I should show her what I’d done. “I thought we might take the office space out back”—I nodded toward the storage area—“since it’s already kind of a separate space.”

We walked through the door to the back. There wasn’t a lot of room, but I had cleared out the corner where my desk and filing cabinet had been.

“I got some office dividers,” I told Julie, “to wall off this area a little more.”

The office space wasn’t much more than an alcove, but with the dividers in place it was big enough for a crib, changing table, and a chair for Julie. Her mom said she’d need someplace to sit with the baby.

The bell over the front door tinkled, and I went out front, leaving Julie staring at the empty space.

My timing had been excellent. Coming through the front door was Felipe, a giant grin on his face. “Ernie’s pulling the van around the back,” he said. “Are you ready?”

“I guess,” I said. I was as ready as I was going to get.

“I’ll go unlock the back door,” Felipe said as he walked
past me. “Just wait here. I think there are a couple more people on the way.”

Sure enough, within a few minutes the rest of the renovation crew arrived. Jake closed his shop and crossed the street about the same time Linda walked over from next door. And right behind them came Anita Nelson.

Anita hurried through to go see her daughter as I greeted the new arrivals. Another car pulled to the curb. Shiloh, Fowler’s Auto Sales’ office manager, got out from behind the wheel, and my friend Sly got out on the passenger side.

Sly was a surprise, but a welcome one. I’d met him when I was investigating Kevin Stanley’s murder, and he was one of the few people I knew who remembered Uncle Louis. But it was the first time he’d been to the shop.

I’d only told a couple people what I was going to do for Julie, but it seemed like everyone I told invited someone else. It was a pleasant side effect of the gossip mill that ran Keyhole Bay.

Sly came through the front door, a wide smile creasing his dark face and exposing gaps where he was missing teeth. The crinkles around his eyes and the laugh lines that bracketed his mouth told of a long life spent outdoors.

Before Sly could speak, Bluebeard hopped across the shop—there wasn’t really room for him to fly—and looked quizzically at our visitor. He cocked his head one way, then another, then dipped it as though nodding.

“Sylvester.”

Sly’s eyes widened, and he looked at me. I shrugged. “He never forgets a face,” I said by way of explanation. I knew I would have to explain about Bluebeard and Uncle Louis—the circle of people who knew was growing quickly—but not in front of Shiloh. Not if I could avoid it.

Sly must have seen something in my expression, because he just nodded at me. “Quite a talent. I ain’t been in here in pro’ly thirty years.”

I smiled at him, sure he could see the relief on my face. As the group headed to find Julie, I held back a minute, and Sly waited with me.

“I can explain,” I said. “But I don’t want to tell everyone.”

“Thought so,” Sly answered. “How about you bring me some more doughnuts next week? ’Sides, Bobo’s been missing you.”

“Deal.”

“Thanks. We better be getting back there, see how Julie’s doing.”

Predictably, Julie was in tears, leaning on her mother’s shoulder. Ernie and Felipe had already rolled out a pale pink area rug, and Jake was helping them lug in the crib parts from their van.

Linda and Shiloh disappeared out the back door and reappeared a minute later with packages that had been stashed in the warehouse area at The Grog Shop.

While Julie struggled to regain control, the crew set to work. Ernie and Felipe brought in so many pieces of furniture and so many decorations, I could hardly believe their van had held it all.

Jake and Sly set to work assembling the crib as soon as the pieces were inside. Next came a small dresser. Linda and Shiloh enlisted my help to unpack all the tiny clothes and blankets they’d brought over and stack them carefully in the drawers.

A changing table appeared, along with an enormous supply of diapers. “That should take care of the first week,” Anita said to the stunned Julie. I tried not to stare. How
could one tiny infant need that many diapers in just a week? Obviously, I had a lot to learn.

We filled the drawers of the changing table with diapers and put sheets on the mattress of the now-assembled crib.

As we worked, I stole occasional glances at Julie. She had stopped weeping, although she still looked like she was in shock. At one point she seemed a bit uneasy, but she leaned against her mother and seemed to relax again.