Murder of a Hermit, page 6
Hope frowned at her sister. ‘Aren’t you taking it a little far? Rosemarie has never mentioned that she paid to attend a séance. We don’t have any evidence that Gina is making money from—’
‘We certainly do have evidence,’ Summer cut her off. ‘What about all those pricey shopping bags of hers that were sitting in here? Or the expensive dress and heels that she was wearing?’
‘Her jewelry, too,’ Megan added. ‘I’ve gotten pretty good at judging the pieces worn by the swanky guests at the hotel, and the stones in Gina’s necklace and earrings looked genuine to me.’
‘Even if they’re worth a small fortune,’ Hope replied, ‘it doesn’t mean that she got them by swindling the bereaved. We have no idea where her money comes from. It could be family wealth, or a large settlement with an ex, or a lucrative former profession.’
Megan grinned. ‘Such as running a brothel.’
Hope raised an eyebrow at her. ‘That isn’t helpful.’
‘I don’t know why you’re defending Gina,’ Summer said crossly.
‘I’m not defending her. I’m merely pointing out that we don’t know enough about her to reach a definitive conclusion – yet. You could be right that Gina is a classic charlatan trying to take advantage of people’s sorrow by pretending to communicate with the dead in exchange for a generous sum. On the other hand, she might be nothing more than a silly, harmless woman who thinks it’s terrific fun to imagine that she’s in possession of vast magical powers and can summon spirits at will.’
‘There is nothing harmless about summoning spirits,’ Summer rejoined. ‘It isn’t an amusing parlor game or a birthday party sideshow. It can be extremely dangerous. You and I both know what can happen if things go wrong. We’ve witnessed firsthand what the consequences can be when foolish people attempt to play with things that they don’t begin to comprehend. Not every spirit is some jolly old uncle who wants to chum around for an afternoon. Many spirits are angry, or mischievous, or downright nasty and vengeful. And they don’t like to be summoned. They appear on their own schedule and of their own volition, not when—’
She was interrupted by a thud.
Startled, Megan turned toward the front window. ‘Was that outside? I hope a bird didn’t hit the pane. Maybe we should check the sidewalk in case it—’
As though in answer to her question, the thud repeated itself, louder this time and distinctly above them, inside the brownstone. They collectively looked up.
There was a third thud, followed by a fourth and then a fifth in steady succession. It sounded like the heavy, plodding footsteps of a gigantic creature marching across the ceiling. With each one, the walls of the shop shook progressively harder, the herb-and-tea counter rattled more violently, and several of Hope’s newly positioned chairs tumbled backwards. The sisters exchanged a glance. It was definitely not a bird.
Megan’s brow furrowed. ‘Is that coming from…’
‘It’s the ghosts in the attic,’ Hope confirmed.
‘And they’re demonstrating my point,’ Summer said. ‘The spirits aren’t fond of being summoned. They choose when and how to make their presence known.’
A trio of especially strong thuds occurred next, shifting the snack platters in front of Megan. Hope rushed to the table and grabbed a blue-checkered dish just as it started to careen off the edge toward the floor.
With a quick hand, Megan steadied the remaining platters. ‘That was awfully close to being a mess.’
‘Too close,’ Hope concurred. She raised her gaze toward the ceiling – and the occupants of the attic three floors beyond. ‘Your message has been received. No one – Gina included – will be holding a séance in the boutique or the brownstone at any time in the foreseeable future. We would appreciate it if you would stop now, please.’
After a brief, deliberating pause, there came one final elephantine thud, and then silence followed.
‘Thank you,’ Hope said, before turning her attention to the blue-checkered dish, which she set safely back on the table. ‘And my thanks to you also, Megan. This cheese platter is fabulous. You’ve made it wonderfully appetizing.’
Summer – who had been straightening the tumbled chairs – studied the variety of cheeses. ‘Did you organize them by flavor?’
‘No, country of origin. That’s why the Dutch Edam is between the Swiss Gruyère and the English cave Cheddar.’
Hope smiled. ‘Apparently all those four o’clock wine-and-cheeses at the hotel have left their mark.’
Megan responded with more of a grimace than a smile. ‘Considering that I’ve been hosting them five days a week for the many years that I’ve worked there, something was bound to rub off eventually. It’s a real show-stopper on my curriculum vitae: adept at gliding across a lobby or conference room while engaged in mindless small talk and simultaneously carrying two carafes of wine along with a variety of nibbles.’
As Hope and Summer laughed, they were joined by a sound from upstairs. It was different from the previous thuds. Instead of an elephant stomping across the ceiling, this one was more like the whinny of a horse.
‘I think that’s their version of a chuckle,’ Summer said.
Now Megan did smile. ‘Maybe they enjoy wine and nibbles just as much as the rest of us.’ She hesitated a moment, then lowered her voice. ‘I probably shouldn’t mention this, because it might irritate them and make it worse this evening, but with all of their hullabaloo last night – in addition to my leg, which was itching like crazy again – I couldn’t sleep a wink.’
‘Were they noisy last night?’ Summer asked in surprise. ‘I didn’t hear anything. Did you, Hope?’
‘They were a little restless, as usual. There was some whimpering and whispers. A couple of doors opened and closed. It was nothing out of the ordinary.’ Hope turned questioningly to Megan. ‘You’ve overnighted here and heard them on countless occasions, since we were kids even. They’ve never disturbed or worried you before, at least not seriously.’
‘It wasn’t the ghosts that I was worried about,’ Megan said. ‘It was the Hermit. Every time a floorboard squeaked or a door creaked, I wondered if it was them or him making the noise. I kept turning on the lamp to check that the room was still empty and the Hermit hadn’t crept up through the cellar.’
Summer shook her head. ‘The Hermit couldn’t creep up through the cellar. If the bookcase is closed, the cellar door can’t be opened from inside the stairway. Plus, at this point, the Hermit can’t even get into the cellar.’
‘He can’t?’ Hope echoed doubtfully. ‘But based on those pieces of canvas we found, we’re pretty sure that he got into the cellar earlier.’
‘That was before the contractor and construction crew arrived with their equipment. Now with the retention pool and those enormous hoses taking up every inch of space, it’s impossible to reach the outside door. Didn’t you see how tightly the boxwoods were pressed up against it? No one – neither the Hermit nor anybody else – could pry open the door and get down the potato-coal chute.’
Megan wasn’t convinced. ‘Even if the door and the chute aren’t accessible now, they could become accessible later. The pool and hoses might be gone by this evening.’
‘Highly unlikely,’ Summer said. ‘When I last looked outside no more than half an hour ago, the pool hadn’t been emptied. It was just as full as when Percy decided to take his impromptu swim yesterday. They can’t drain the pool or pump the water elsewhere until the generator has been repaired, and they’re not able to work on that without first resolving the power issue. It must be causing them considerable difficulty, because two electric company trucks have been parked at the Larsons’ all day.’
‘There was a third one parked in the street in front of the boutique this morning,’ Hope added. ‘I noticed it when the lights in here kept flickering.’
Summer chortled. ‘That flickering couldn’t have been more perfectly timed if you were a charlatan and had chosen that exact moment to flip a hidden switch to make the lights turn off and on.’
Hope smiled. ‘Jill was a little spooked by it.’
‘A little spooked? Her eyes bulged out of her head like a cartoon insect, and she nearly fell from her chair at the table!’
The sisters shared a laugh.
‘When was this?’ Megan asked. ‘I must have missed it.’
‘It was during Jill Berg’s palm-reading appointment,’ Hope told her. ‘I think you were taking your bath then.’
‘Oh, yes, I remember the lights flickering while I was getting dressed. It takes me such an annoyingly long time to move around and do everything with this cast on. So what happened with Jill?’
‘She’d never had anyone look at her palm before, so I started with a simple, introductory reading. When I got to her heart line, Jill was anxious to know how much it showed regarding any love affairs and dalliances. She kept shifting in her seat and blushing, so it wasn’t hard to guess that she’s either currently having an affair or seriously considering starting one. And just as she was inquiring whether someone such as her husband could also look at her hand and see how she might be spending her spare time, the lights in the boutique went dark. Jill gasped. The lights switched back on, and she gaped in awe. When the lights turned off again, Jill became absolutely convinced that the flickering was a message intended for her. The only problem was that she couldn’t decide whether it was a sign for or against the affair.’
‘That is a dilemma,’ Megan agreed, laughing also.
‘If Jill wants to keep her liaisons secret,’ Summer remarked wryly, ‘then she should worry less about her husband reading her palm and more about him reading her text messages and emails.’
The lights in the boutique flickered.
Megan laughed harder. ‘The message definitely isn’t for me. I’m barely even dating Daniel, so I can’t possibly be cheating on him.’
The flickering repeated itself.
Looking at the clock on the wall, Summer’s amusement faded. ‘I hope it stops soon. The guests for the tea will be arriving at any moment.’
‘It didn’t last long this morning,’ Hope reminded her. ‘Only a couple of minutes.’
‘But no one will want to stay if the power keeps going on and off. It’ll be too dark to see their cups or the snack platters.’
A noticeable fretfulness had crept into Summer’s tone, and Hope tried to reassure her. ‘Everyone will be able to see fine, regardless of what happens with the power. There is plenty of natural light coming in through the windows. Granted, it’s a little gloomy outside because of the thick clouds, but it’s certainly not the pitch black of night.’
‘We can always set up a whole bunch of candles,’ Megan suggested.
‘That’s an excellent idea.’ Hope gave her a grateful glance. ‘It would be cheerful, and Rosemarie loves candles, so she’ll instantly be in a good mood.’
‘Rosemarie might not come to the tea,’ Summer said.
‘Of course she’ll come! When has Rosemarie ever missed an event at the boutique? The only question is whether she’ll have Percy on his lead, or if he’ll try to make a dash for the pool and have another swim in that dirty water.’
The lights flickered again, and this time, they were joined by a pair of thuds on the ceiling.
Hope frowned. ‘That’s odd. Why would the spirits care about Percy swimming in the retention pool?’
A sharper set of thuds followed.
Summer groaned. ‘Now in addition to the flashing lights, there will be thumping in the attic that we can’t explain. And Rosemarie will probably make some ludicrous remark about—’
She was stopped by a series of thuds that were forceful enough to clatter the windows.
Hope’s frown deepened. ‘I don’t understand. The spirits have never been troubled about Rosemarie. She’s such a kind, inoffensive soul—’
It was her turn to be interrupted as the wind chimes rang out above the front door of the shop. A crowd of ladies bustled inside, with everybody talking at once. Even over the boisterous chatter, Hope could hear Summer’s sigh of relief, and she smiled at her. All of the worry about no one showing up for the first tea of the season had been unnecessary. The group was large and enthusiastic. If only the lights and the occupants of the attic would cooperate…
‘Hope! Summer!’ Rosemarie rushed forward to hug them, with Percy racing alongside, no doubt in anticipation of receiving a treat. ‘I’m so happy that the Wednesday afternoon teas have started up again. We’ve all been looking forward to it, haven’t we?’ She didn’t wait for anyone to respond. ‘And I’ve brought along a marvelous friend.’
‘Percy is always welcome,’ Summer replied convivially.
Hope began to move toward the drawer in the palm-and-Tarot-reading table to retrieve the bag of doggie cookies.
Rosemarie giggled and shook her scarlet mop, which matched the color of the poppies in her billowy crepe dress. ‘What a funny misunderstanding! I didn’t mean Percy. I was referring to Madam Gina, of course.’
With the air of making an entrance, Gina stepped out from behind Rosemarie. She was also wearing a dress, but the effect was starkly different from Rosemarie’s. Instead of bright and breezy, Gina’s garb was cool and refined. It was a narrow, linen sheath in a pewter shade that was slightly lighter than her charcoal choice from the day before. Gina evidently favored solid, neutral tones, perhaps because they accentuated the glossy black of her hair and the sparkling jewels around her throat and wrist. Whatever the source of her money, she was clearly not stingy about the amount that she spent on her wardrobe and accessories.
As Gina greeted the sisters with a smile, Hope felt an elbow nudge her in the ribs. She didn’t have to look at Summer to understand her meaning. The smile was the same one that had been given to them previously. Summer thought it stiff and forced. Was it artificial? Hope still wasn’t sure. It might have simply seemed that way in comparison with Rosemarie’s overwhelming natural effusiveness. There was also the possibility that Summer held a bit of a grudge against Gina as a result of Nate audibly commenting to Dylan yesterday before their departure that he would be interested in attending one of her séances.
Gina must have sensed Summer’s reserve, because she lengthened the smile and said politely, ‘I hope it’s all right that I’ve come this afternoon. I wasn’t sure if an explicit invitation was required.’
‘An explicit invitation?’ Rosemarie exclaimed. ‘What nonsense! You’re as welcome here as Percy and I are. Isn’t that right, Hope?’
Although Hope nodded and began to reply in the affirmative, Rosemarie continued without pause.
‘The boutique and the tea are open to everyone. The more, the merrier! There is no restriction on who can attend. It’s not like when you hold one of your séances, and you have to limit the number of people and make sure that they’re all—’
A tremendous boom sounded above them as though a cannon had been fired, and the entire shop reverberated. There was a short, startled silence, and then the ladies burst out with a flurry of excited questions and comments.
Nudging Hope again, Summer leaned close to her and whispered, ‘You see? The spirits agree with me. They don’t like Gina, either.’
SEVEN
Hope’s mind moved fast. She needed an explanation for the strange noise and the accompanying tremor that not only seemed plausible but also wouldn’t frighten anyone away from the boutique.
‘There is construction at the Larsons’,’ she told the group, who continued to buzz excitedly.
‘Our neighbors,’ Summer said, gesturing in the direction of Miranda and Paul’s brownstone.
‘Their cellar has been leaking for some time,’ Hope went on, ‘and the water was pumped out yesterday.’
‘Into a pool on the side lawn,’ Rosemarie corroborated. ‘When Percy saw it, he jumped straight in, and when he came back out, he was covered with a layer of muck. It took two shampoos to get him clean.’
No further account of the Larsons, their cellar, or the retention pool was necessary. The ladies now began to chime in, half of them recounting their own tale of woe regarding water seepage and related flooding, and the other half remarking on the exasperating tendency of dogs to explore where they shouldn’t and emerging grubby.
For his part, Percy didn’t appear the least bit interested in the chattering ladies or their narratives. He simply wanted his treat and conveyed that sentiment to Hope by staring at her with impatient eyes.
She smiled and gave him a doggie cookie. ‘Apologies for the delay, Percy.’
The pug replied with a good-natured snort and promptly carried his treat beneath the palm-and-Tarot-reading table, where he could enjoy it at his leisure, safely removed from the many sharp heels and pointy-toed shoes moving around the shop.
Watching him, Hope smiled once more. At least one of their guests was happily settled. And it turned out that he had sought the protection of the table legs just in time, because the moment that Megan directed the ladies’ attention to the snack platters on the table and the steaming cups that Summer had begun serving on the herb-and-tea counter, there was a stampede in both directions.
Even with her wounded leg, Megan proved to be a consummate hostess. It was no surprise that the hotel awarded her a substantial bonus every year for dealing so effectively with their difficult clientele. When handling a group, Megan had the natural ability to discern who was already acquainted and who needed introductions. She was also skilled at rekindling the conversation during a lull, although on this occasion no great wit or creativity was required as her cast became a source of universal interest and discussion, with everyone eager to share an injury story regarding some friend or relation.
