Veiled Passages (13 page)

Reaching over, she took Honora’s hands in hers and held them.  The older woman looked up, her eyes red-rimmed with rivulets of mascara flowing down her flaccid cheeks. “Why don’t you take a deep breath and tell me how it happened,” Mary suggested.

Honora pulled a voluminous floral handkerchief from somewhere near her ample bosom and put it against her face.  The forthcoming noise from the elderly spiritualist was somewhere between the sound of a lonesome foghorn and a flock of Canada geese flying overhead.

Ian jumped up in surprise. “Careful, we’ll run aground,” he cried, pushing his chair away from the table, still half-asleep.

            Bleary-eyed, he looked over at Mary. “I thought I was out at sea,” he confessed. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Sally glanced over briefly at Ian and then did a double-take. Batting fake eyelashes, she smiled softly at him and stroked his forearm. “Don’t worry about that,” she whispered seductively. “I’ll explain everything.”

“He’s young enough to be your grandson,” Peter complained. “Don’t embarrass yourself.”

Grinning, Ian looked up towards the sound of Peter’s voice and froze. “You don’t have any …,” he stammered, and then realizing what he almost said, he clapped his hand over his mouth.

“I don’t have any what, darling?” Sally purred, slowly moving her hand up his arm.

Grabbing Sally’s arm and pulling it away from Ian, Margaret placed the kettle of hot tea between them. “Nothing like a hot cup of tea to bring a little normalcy back into a situation,” she announced. “Ian, there’s a darling, won’t you go to the cupboard and see if you can locate some cookies?”

Ian stood, relief in his eyes, gave Margaret a quick kiss on the cheek, and went to search.

“Now, if we can all get back to the investigation,” Mary said. “Honora, tell us what you did that night and why you believe you caused Peter’s death.”

Taking a deep breath, Honora slowly looked around the room. “I know most of you think I’m a bumbling fool,” she began.

Sally snorted.

“But I have discovered that I am able to summon my psychic powers and use that energy to cause things to happen,” she said.

“What kind of things?” Tracey asked.

“Well, it started one day when a teller at the bank was quite rude to me,” she explained. “And I thought of an old curse I’d read from a book I’d purchased about spells and incantations.  I must have gotten the words of the curse right because the next time I came into the bank, I learned that she had been fired.”

Ian leaned over between Mary and Honora and placed a plate full of cookies on the table. “Could it have been, love, that the teller had poor customer service abilities and was let go?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said, pausing for a moment. “Well, at least I don’t think so. Besides there have been a number of those kinds of circumstances where it was just too coincidental to be…to be…”

“A coincidence?” Mary asked.

“Exactly,” Honora said, nodding her head. “And then there’s Peter.”

“What did you do to Peter?” Mary asked. “Exactly.”

“Well, the night of the dinner he not only insulted the spirits, but he also hurt my feelings badly, very badly,” she said. “So, I went back to my room and I killed him.”

Ian pulled a chair across the room and sat down next to Honora. “Hello, we haven’t been introduced yet,” he said, smiling easily at her. “My name’s Professor Ian MacDougal and I’m from the University of Edinburgh. I’m a friend of Mary’s and I study paranormal phenomenon. Why don’t you tell me about the incantations you used that night?”

Honora closed her eyes for a moment while she sorted her thoughts. “Well, first I took out his effigy from my suitcase,” she said.

“You had his effigy in your suitcase?” Ian asked.

Nodding eagerly, she smiled at him. “I always travel with effigies of my colleagues,” she said. “You know they’re not just voodoo dolls, they can be used for other things too.”

“She had a voodoo doll of me in her suitcase?” Peter asked.

“Um, Honora, do you have an effigy of me?” Sally asked, her tone friendly and pacifying.

Smiling widely at her, Honora then turned back to Ian without answering Sally’s question. “So, I took out the effigy and I stormed around the room with it,” she said. “You see, I was so very angry, I didn’t know what I wanted to do.  I could flush it down the toilet, I could throw it into the fireplace or I could drop it out the window…”

She smiled absently up at him. “There were just so many good choices.”

“Aye, I can see that.”

“But then I thought that I wouldn’t want to be accused of his murder,” she said.

“Smart thinking,” Ian encouraged.

“So, I decided that he should die of natural causes,” she finished.

Ian waited for a moment, but when he saw she was done speaking he said, “And so…”

“Oh. Oh, of course,” she said. “And so I took a long needle out of my emergency sewing case and stabbed him in the heart. So he would die of a heart attack.”

She turned to Mary. “So, you see,” she said. “I killed him.”

“But he drowned,” Mary replied. “He didn’t die of a heart attack.”

“But I wanted him to die,” she replied sadly. “So I’m still guilty.”

“Guilty of justified anger,” Peter said. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Mary placed her head in her hands, her head was pounding and she felt like she was the ringmaster in a circus.  Suddenly a cup of tea slipped in under her hands and she felt a soft pat on her shoulder.  She took a deep breath, turned, smiled at her mother and took a sip the tea.  The infusion of calming herbs soothed her for a moment and she was able to think clearly. “Okay, I’ve come to a temporary solution,” she said. “Sally and Honora, because of what I’ve learned today, I have to consider both of you potential suspects. I don’t have the authority to keep you here, but I would consider it a professional courtesy if you would both stay in Freeport for a little while longer.”

Honora beamed. “Well, of course I will,” she said. “The spirits have told me that it is my duty to stay.”

“Don’t look at me,” Mike said, raising both of his hands in defense. “I didn’t say a word.”

“You can’t make me stay,” Sally said, rising to her feet and walking to the door between the kitchen and the living room. “And if I do stay, it’s only because I want to meet Peter’s real killer and shake his hand.”

“Ouch,” Peter said. “Scorned woman and all that.”

“Thank you, Sally,” Mary replied. “I promise I’ll be in touch.”

Shrugging, Sally turned her back on the group and walked to the door. “Honora if you want a ride back to the hotel, you had better get moving.”

Honora jumped up in a symphony of earrings, bangles and necklaces and hurried to the door. “Thank you Mary,” she called cheerily. “If you need any psychic help, you know who to call.”

Mary nodded. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

The door closed and there was a moment of complete silence in the house, followed by a collective sigh of relief. “Well, now, didn’t that make the morning a wee bit more interesting,” Ian said, reaching over for another cookie. “Are you thinking either of them did it?”

Shaking her head, Mary grabbed a cookie for herself and broke it in half. “Not that stranger things haven’t happened,” she replied. “But I don’t think either of them could have kept a secret for this long.”

Tracey laughed. “You have them both pegged,” she said. “And I agree with you, I think Honora is fairly harmless and Sally wouldn’t have been able to just kill him and leave the room.  She would have wanted to slap him around a little.”

Chuckling, Peter nodded. “She was always a passionate filly.”

“Well now, can you be any more offensive?” Ian asked.

Tracey paled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it,” she stammered. “I mean, I’ve known Sally…”

“Oh, I didn’t mean you,” Ian quickly corrected. “It was Peter’s comment that was uncalled for.”

Looking slowly around the room, Tracey’s eyes widened. “Peter’s comment?”

“Auch, and kick me for the fool that I am,” Ian said, slapping himself on the forehead. “And, so, coming to the party a wee bit late, I should have asked, how many people in the room know about the ghosts that are also present?”

Mary, Mike and Peter lifted their hands.

“And, just to set the record straight, I’m not a ghost,” Mike said. “I’ve graduated. I’m a guardian angel.”

“Oh, sorry, Mike, you’re right,” Ian replied, then stopped, shook his head and turned to Mary. “And how much sleep would you think I’ve had lately?  And would lack of sleep cause such a case of unguarded mouth?”

Laughing, Mary reached over and placed her hand over Ian’s. “You haven’t had much sleep at all,” she said. “And what little you’ve gotten has been interrupted by long distance web calls between you and Gillian.  So, yes, that’s probably what’s causing your…”

“Diarrhea of the mouth,” Mike finished.

Sitting back in her chair, watching the interplay, Margaret finally put her tea cup back in her saucer and leaned forward. “So, you’re telling us you have the same gift as our Mary,” she said. “You can see those who have passed beyond this life too.”

Ian nodded. “Since I was a lad,” he explained. “Although, I’ve not seen so many, nor gotten quite so involved with their lives until I came here and worked with Mary.  My research has increased by milestones.”

“You weren’t joking when you told Honora you were a professor researching paranormal phenomenon?” Tracey asked.

“No, it’s the truth,” he replied. “I’m working through the University of Chicago studying how psychic ability can aid in police investigation and other areas of law enforcement.”

“There’s money for studies like that?” Tracey asked.

Grinning, Ian nodded. “Aye, well, when you head the foundation that sponsors the fellowship, they canna turn you down too easily,” he replied.

“You’re Sir Ian MacDougal?” Tracey said, her eyes widening.

“Oh, la-de-da,” Mike said. “We’ve got a Sir in the room.  Should I have been curtseying?”

“It’s an old family title,” Ian said. “Really, it doesn’t mean much. But, Mike, I’d like to see you curtsey, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Tracey looked around the room again. “Mike?  Who’s Mike?”

“Oh, I can tell you that,” Margaret said. “Mike is Clarissa’s guardian angel. He saved our lives last night.”

She looked in the direction Ian had sent his comment and smiled. “And I thank you for it, Michael,” she said.

Mike’s smile softened. “Tell her it was my pleasure,” he replied.

“He says it was his pleasure,” Mary said, and then she turned to Tracey. “He was a fireman, before he was murdered.  I worked with him to solve his murder and then we solved another case together. He passed over, but we were lucky enough to get him back.”

“Damn straight,” Mike replied, and then bit his lip and looked upwards. “Sorry, that one just slipped out.”

“So, who else is in the room?” Tracey asked.

“Well, I’m assuming the naked ghost is Peter Swift,” Ian said, “Although we’ve never been properly introduced.”

“Naked?” Tracey asked.

“I really wish you hadn’t mentioned that,” Peter said to Ian. “It’s not how I wanted everyone to picture me.”

“Well, you see, when your spirit gets trapped here, on earth, because of unresolved issues,” Mary explained, “you appear the way you were when you died.  Peter died in a bathtub, so, of course, he’s not dressed.”

“But I do cover myself,” Peter exclaimed, waving his towel around.

Tracey stared at the towel levitating in midair, dancing around. “Is that Peter?” she asked.

“Aye, and that’s a sight I’d rather not have seen,” Ian replied.

“Why didn’t I notice the towel earlier?” she asked.

“Peter was polite enough to stand behind the counter when the rest of you were here,” Mary said. “So the towel was hidden next to the stove.”

“Oh, my,” Margaret gasped, bringing her hand to her chest.

Mary turned around quickly, facing her mother. “Ma, what’s wrong?”

“I just realized, I dried my hands on that towel,” she replied, staring down at her hands.

She pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. “If you’ll just excuse me,” she said. “I’ll just go wash my hands again.”

Walking out the kitchen, she paused at the door and turned back to Mary. “There aren’t any other…surprises waiting for me in the upstairs bath, are there?” she asked.

“No, Ma, the upstairs bathrooms are off limits,” she replied and then she whispered, as she glanced at Mike, “Most of the time.”

Her mother continued upstairs and Mary pulled out the document she had started reviewing when their meeting started. “So, now, let’s get back to the autopsy,” Mary said.

Peter glided to her chair and peered over her shoulder. “I did not weigh that much when I died,” he complained.

“Peter,” Mary said, looking up at his face.

“What?” he asked.

“Shut up.”

Chapter Thirty

“It was nice of you to drive into Rockford with me,” Katie Brennan said to Ashley, as she maneuvered the mini-van through the Cherry Vale Mall parking lot. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you.”

Smiling at her, Ashley shrugged, “Well, let’s see,” she said. “I could have been doing my rotation on the downtown parking limit offenders or I could go to a mall. Which would you choose?”

Katie laughed. “Well, when you put it that way,” she said. “I suppose you should be thanking me.”

She pulled into an empty space near one of the mall’s entrances and parked the van.  Turning around in her seat she looked at the two little girls, busily chatting with each other. “We’re here,” she said to the astonishment of both girls.

“Already?” Maggie asked. “But we just left.”

“Yea, already,” Katie said. “I need you to remember the rules.”

“We have to stay next to you and Ashley,” Clarissa said. “No running off.”

Katie nodded. “And?”

“And this is a looking trip and a trying-on trip, not a buying trip,” Maggie said.

“Perfect,” Katie said. “Now, let’s go have some fun.”

The little bridal shop was on the second floor and the owner was waiting for them when they arrived. “I have the dresses all laid out and ready for you to try on,” she said to the girls when they entered the shop.