Spooky Times (Alice Whitehouse Book 1) Page 11

  A distinct flush had come over his cheeks. The topic of Gemma Weston didn’t seem to leave him as indifferent as it had before, now that the thin veneer of civility was dropping away.

  “So you hated her guts,” Rock said, summing up.

  “And you were more than happy when the meeting was canceled, giving you an excuse to ax Gemma from the society,” I added.

  “She was a bad influence! She was going to start a website, devoted to the society, and give prevalence to the more recent history of Happy Bays. She said nobody was interested in a bunch of old relics and fossils. Young people wanted to know which celebrities came to Happy Bays. They wanted to see pictures of them lounging on the beach and visiting our bars. She wanted to establish a star spotting service, and direct the bus tours along Billionaire Lane, if you can believe it!”

  I could. It sounded just like Gemma, and I had to suppress a grin. No wonder Edsel hated Gemma. She was going to destroy the Historical Society.

  “Can you account for your whereabouts between the hours of seven and eight Tuesday night, sir?” Rock asked.

  “Of course. I was picking up Mrs. Evergreen and Mrs. Dalrymple for the meeting. They can vouch for me.”

  I did a mental eyeroll. Not again with this Mrs. Evergreen.

  “I might not have liked Gemma Weston,” Mr. Pagan said in a low voice. “In fact I think it’s safe to say I despised her and everything she stood for, but I would never kill her. I was going to fight her ideas tooth and claw with words, not with brute force.”

  He stared at us heatedly, his eyes burning with the holy fire of a man who’s fought his entire life for his ideas on a public forum. No, I didn’t think Edsel had bashed Gemma’s head in, no matter how tempted he would have been.

  Rock seemed to feel the same way, for he now closed his notebook and tucked it away in his vest pocket. “When you were ringing Miss Weston’s bell, Tuesday night, did you notice anything out of the ordinary? Strange sounds coming from inside the house? People lurking about that had no business there?”

  “The only strange thing was that Gemma chose not to open the door, in spite of the fact that the lights were on inside, and that I could detect the scent of roast duck. I figured she must have changed her mind about dinner. She was, after all, a very impetuous young woman. Mrs. Evergreen put it best, I think, when she ventured that Gemma’s boyfriend must have come over for a surprise visit, and that they were too busy going at it like bunnies to host a bunch of old fogies.” He pressed his lips together disapprovingly.

  “Did you know Gemma’s boyfriend?” I asked.

  He grimaced. “Miss Whitehouse, frankly I didn’t know anything about Gemma, and I very much liked to keep it that way.”

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Pagan,” Rock said, rising to his feet.

  The old man gave us an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful, Detective. Gemma and I might not have seen eye to eye, but she didn’t deserve to die.”

  Well, that was true enough. The Gemma I’d gotten to know these past few days was a pain in the behind, but that didn’t give anyone the right to bash her head in.

  We left the house, both feeling in a quandary. Three days in, and we were still absolutely nowhere.

  “I have to admit I’m completely stumped,” I said as I got into Rock’s car.

  “That makes two of us,” he said, toying with his key. “Did you believe Pagan?”

  “Yes, I did. I don’t think he’s our guy.”

  “I feel the same way,” he said musingly. “The more I dig into Gemma Weston’s life, the more I find that there were a lot of people that didn’t like her.”

  “Like Henry Jackson.”

  “Or Mrs. Merton.”

  “Or all the women in the Historical Society.”

  “And its chairman.”

  We sat staring through the windshield for a moment, gathering our thoughts. The silence stretched on, and Rock’s close proximity was starting to affect me powerfully. My thoughts jumped from Gemma Weston to that kiss, and I wondered if I shouldn’t have encouraged him more. Like placing my hand on his cheek, or mussing up his hair, or even touching his chest. There could have been more tongue for my part, and as I thought about the next kiss, I found my eyes drifting back to Rock, who was sitting perfectly still, his mind going over the interview. He obviously wasn’t on the same wavelength I was, and I quickly dismissed my silly girlish thoughts. We weren’t out on a date. He wasn’t going to walk me up to my door and kiss me. What was I thinking!

  “I, um… maybe you can take me back to Mick’s Pick now? I probably shouldn’t leave the store for too long. People might need to buy… guns.”

  He gave me a quick grin. “Yeah. We wouldn’t want to deny the good people of Happy Bays the opportunity to load up on guns and ammo now would we?”

  He jammed the key into the ignition, turned it over and the engine roared to life, shredding my hope for a repeat performance from before.

  Oh, well. Silly me. Hoping to be kissed by the big, bad cop.

  Chapter 15

  “That was just a bunch of lies, you know?”

  “Oh?”

  I didn’t look up from my work. Gemma had been prattling on all morning. Apparently she’d been present at the interview with Edsel and hadn’t agreed with what the man had said about her.

  “All I wanted was to make the society more up to date, you know. When I joined them I was so disappointed! Just a bunch of old fogies talking about a bunch of stuff that happened ages ago. I mean, who cares what whaler sunk off the coast of Montauk in 1783? They’re long gone and buried, right? But don’t you want to know when George Clooney is visiting with Cindy Crawford? And what Amal was wearing when she went shopping for the twins? I know I do.”

  I suppressed a tired groan. I was starting to see what Edsel meant when he said the society wasn’t really a good fit for Gemma.

  “And I know for a fact that the other members all agreed with me. Just that they were afraid to go up against President Pagan.” She slashed the air with her fingers as she spoke those last words, making air quotes and a face. “Well, I wasn’t afraid to go up against him. In fact I did. Someone had to tell that old fool that he was the only one who cared about reading the dumb Declaration of Independence.”

  “I think a lot of people care about that, actually,” I said, figuring that if my cash register didn’t add up now, it never would. Math has never been my strong suit.

  “Well, you’re wrong. History is for losers.”

  “So what were you doing in the Historical Society?”

  “Rejuvenating that tired old fossil.”

  I wondered if she was talking about Edsel now, or the society, or both. I decided I didn’t want to know. “Have you been trying to remember who knocked you over the head?” I asked, changing the topic.

  She heaved an exasperated groan. “Stop bugging me with that question, will you? No, I don’t remember, and frankly I’m starting to think I never will.”

  I was starting to think the same thing. Which meant we’d never solve her murder, and I’d be stuck with Gemma Weston’s ghost for the rest of my own life. And maybe even the afterlife, if I was unfortunate enough to be saddled with her. Then again, she was slowly evaporating, so maybe I’d get lucky and she’d be gone soon.

  “You know?” she asked, jutting out her chin mutinously. “I think you’re not doing your best, Alice. I mean, look at you. Here you are, selling this junk for your uncle, while what you should be doing is being out there looking for my killer.”

  “That’s not true. I interviewed Edsel Pagan, didn’t I?”

  “And before that you were trying to entrap poor Mrs. Evergreen into not cleaning up her dog poo. How important is dog poo compared to catching my killer? Hello-oh.” She held her hand high. “Gemma’s killer.” She held her hand low. “Dog poo. Gemma’s killer. Dog poo. See what I’m getting at?”

  “Oh, I can see it very clearly,” I assured her. “And you know what?
I don’t have to solve your murder. There is no law on earth that requires me to catch your killer. None.”

  This seemed to have taken her aback. “But you’re doing it anyway, right?”

  “Yes, I am, and you know why?”

  “Because you owe me?”

  I frowned at her. “Owe you? What the hell for?”

  “You and Fee stole my Barbie, and then you refused to give it back to me.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Oh, that’s rich! I stole your Barbie? You attacked me with that thing when you thought I was hitting on your boyfriend!”

  “You were, too! You liked Chad. Just admit it!”

  “No, I did not. He was an obnoxious little worm in grade school, a creep in high school and he’s a big, fat loser now.”

  “You take that back! Chad is not a big, fat loser!”

  “He is, too. Why else did you dump him?”

  “I hoped it would give him a nudge. Make him see the light.”

  “You told me before you dumped him because he was a nasty drunk and you didn’t need that kind of negative energy in your life.”

  “Well, I was hoping he would change his ways. Become the sweet Chadster we all know and love.”

  “Not me. I never loved the guy.”

  “You did. You had the hots for him. All my friends did.”

  “Well, like you said before, I was never your friend, Gemma.”

  The doorbell jangled and Fee walked in. “Hello, hello, hello.” When she saw my red face and Gemma’s scowl, her smile vanished. “Should I come back later?”

  “Alice refuses to catch my killer,” Gemma said. “I think she’s secretly starting to like the idea I was whacked over the head.”

  “I never said that!”

  “But you were thinking it!”

  There she had me. If anyone deserved a good old whack on the head, it was Gemma. No doubt about it. Not a lethal whack, though. Maybe more like a poke.

  “Let’s all settle down,” Fee suggested, holding up her hands in a peacekeeping gesture. “I’m sure Alice is doing her level best to catch your killer, Gemma. We all are.”

  “So why aren’t you guys out there doing the catching, huh? I mean, why are you still baking that dumb bread of yours, and why is Alice still selling these dumb guns? While you should be out there—Catching. My. Killer!”

  I exchanged a look with Fee. At this point, I wasn’t to be held responsible for my actions. If Gemma kept this up, I might have to kill her a second time, if that was even possible.

  “How did it go with Edsel Pagan?” Fee asked.

  “He accused me of all kinds of stuff,” Gemma said. “I think he might have done it.”

  “I don’t think he did it,” I said. “He didn’t like Gemma, cause she wanted to turn his Historical Society into the Celebrity Watch Society, but apart from that, he didn’t strike me as violent, or capable of murder.”

  “No wonder you never passed police academy,” Gemma said nastily. “You would have made a lousy cop.”

  I took a step toward Gemma, Fee took a step toward me, and Gemma took a step back.

  “You can’t hurt me,” Gemma said, though she was staying far away from me. “I’m a ghost. Nobody can hurt me.”

  “Don’t pay her any attention,” Fee said. “She’s just frustrated because she died and she’s lashing out.”

  “I know she’s just lashing out, but she’s doing a damn good job at it.”

  “So how are things with Rock?” Fee asked, taking a seat on the couch near the sports shoe rack.

  I wanted to tell Fee about the kiss, but didn’t want to do it with Gemma here. Gemma had other plans, though.

  “He kissed her,” she said. “A nice big wet one. Right there. In his car.”

  Fee’s eyes went wide. “He kissed you?”

  I groaned. “Yes, he did.”

  “That bad, huh?” Gemma asked with a smirk.

  “No, it wasn’t that bad!” I cried, balling my hands into fists. “I just would like to kiss a guy without an audience for once!”

  “You didn’t kiss him; he kissed you,” Gemma reminded me.

  “So? How was it?” Fee asked.

  In spite of Gemma’s needling, I smiled at the recollection. “It was… nice.”

  “Looks like Rock didn’t rock your world,” Gemma said.

  “Nice? Nothing more?” Fee asked.

  “Okay, it was more than nice. It was just a quick kiss, though. Nothing special. I don’t even think he meant anything by it. More a friendly kiss than anything else.”

  “So you think he kisses all his colleagues?” Fee asked with a hint of humor in her voice.

  “Better ask Virgil,” Gemma suggested. “Ask if Rock has kissed him yet.”

  “Oh, can’t you just shut up for a second,” I growled.

  “No, I can’t. Not until you find my killer.”

  “So are you going to do it again?” Fee asked, picking up a nice pair of Nikes and toying with them.

  “How should I know, Fee? It’s not as if I asked him about his plans.”

  “What are your intentions, young man?” Gemma asked, mimicking a stern father addressing a boyfriend taking his daughter to the prom. “Are they honorable?”

  For the first time I cracked up. She might be a pain in the ass, but she did have a sense of humor.

  “I think next time you should kiss him,” Fee said. “Just to show him that you appreciated the gesture.”

  Now both Gemma and I were laughing. “Appreciated the gesture!” I cried.

  “It was so very kind of you to kiss me, sir,” Gemma said in the same deep voice. “Would you care to do it again? Much appreciated.”

  “Just trying to be helpful here,” Fee huffed.

  “I don’t think Rock needs encouragement,” Gemma said. “The way he was staring down Alice’s top, I think the opposite.”

  “He wasn’t staring down my top.”

  She gave me the raised eyebrow look.

  “Oh, all right. Maybe a little. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “A kiss and a deep eye dive into your cleavage? I’m pretty sure it means something.”

  “I think Gemma is right. Rock is into you, and you’d be crazy not to encourage him,” Fee said.

  “Well, I didn’t fight him on the kiss, did I?”

  “You didn’t encourage him either,” Gemma said. “If I were you, I’d have been all over him, steaming up the windows and making the neighbors blush.”

  “Good thing I’m not you, then,” I said prissily, though the image of Rock and I steaming up the windows of his squad car sent a flush of heat sliding up my spine. Yowser.

  “See what I’m dealing with?” Gemma asked plaintively. “Miss Minnie Mouse over there only thinks of bagging the hot cop, while the rest of your so-called neighborhood watch committee is obsessed with some old lady’s dog poo. It’s days like these that make me wonder why I bother getting up in the morning.”

  She was right, of course. Problem was, we were fresh out of leads. We had plenty of suspects, but in my opinion they were all innocent. So where did we go from here? I didn’t have a clue.

  “I think this calls for a meeting of the committee,” Fee said.

  “Yeah. Maybe the others have an idea.”

  “I bet they don’t,” Gemma said, all of a sudden the voice of doom.

  Both Fee and I stared at the former bank teller. The gash in her head was bright red and looked as fresh and wet as the night it had been inflicted. When I saw the gash, I was reminded of the nasty nature of her murder. Whoever had done this had hated Gemma with a vengeance, and had used considerable force.

  And what was more, whoever was capable of such a heinous crime might have gotten a real taste for murder and strike again. We had a killer on the loose in Happy Bays, and we needed to catch them before they killed again. Gemma was right. What could be more important than stopping murder from happening again?

  I took out my phone and sent a text to the Holy Tr
inity.

  We needed to meet. Right now.

  Chapter 16

  This time we decided to hold the meeting at Bell’s Bakery. First I wanted to check up on Bettina, who was apparently still staking out Mrs. Evergreen. We hopped into the bakery van and dropped by the old woman’s street. And sure enough: Bettina’s yellow Mini Cooper was still parked right in front of the house.

  “Why don’t you just put up a banner announcing ‘We’re here!’” Fee grumbled. “Mrs. Evergreen knows the committee all drive Mini Coopers.”

  “Well, maybe this way she’ll start cleaning up after her dog,” I said.

  “Only if you keep an eye on her for the rest of her natural life—or that of Sheena’s. And she’s not the only offender we’re tracking. This isn’t working, Alice.”

  I got out and tapped Bettina’s window, only to discover she wasn’t there. Which was hardly surprising, as she hadn’t picked up her phone either. I looked around, trying to figure out where she could have gone. And then I saw her, walking along the street with Mrs. Evergreen. And as I watched with growing indignation, I saw that she was actually stooping down and picking up a nice round turd in a small plastic baggie. She held it up and showed it to Mrs. Evergreen, who nodded amiably, all smiles.

  Jesus. The old bat had actually roped a member of the committee into cleaning up after her dog now!

  I stalked over and when Mrs. Evergreen saw me, her smile widened. “Alice. How nice to see you again. We do keep running into each other, don’t we?”

  Bettina had the decency to look embarrassed.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Bettina was just showing me how to pick up Sheena’s doo-doo. Isn’t that nice of her?”