An Uninvited Ghost (35 page)

“I guess,” Tiffney said. We were reaching her limits in the area of human interaction.

“So what was that side trip to Sea Bright all about?” I asked. “How come Trent decided to make me drive all the way down there when he knew you were here in your trailer—you
have
been all this time, haven’t you?”

Tiffney nodded. “I slept and ate here most of the time. Nobody would look for me here once you found Bonnie.” She pointed at the mannequin, which was in a corner near the bathroom. “That’s what we call it.”

“And the trip to Sea Bright?” I reminded her.

“Trent figured we could throw everybody off, so he made Sandy give my credit card to this disgusting drunk on the beach, and then Trent got me a new black AmEx card for me.” Tiffney actually pulled out the card and showed it to me. I pretended to be impressed.

“So, in the middle of all that was going on, I drove to Sea Bright and back and talked to that guy for no reason,” I said to Paul.

“Welcome to the detective business,” he said. “You have to assume everybody’s lying to you.”

“How long is he keeping you cooped up in here?” I asked Tiffney.

“Oh, it’s not that bad. I get to go out for filming with Sandy, and at night sometimes when nobody’s around, as long as I stay in disguise and don’t get, like, migraine-faced and make a lot of noise. And Trent says I’ll be back on the show in a couple of days.”

“Don’t tell me, let me guess. He’s going to find you himself.”

Tiffney looked at me like I’d said she had just gotten accepted to Yale. “Of course not! Trent’s not on the show. He’s deciding now whether Mistah Motion or Rock Starr gets to find me.”

Reality television.

I promised a number of times not to give away Tiffney’s secret and then begged off, saying I had to get back to my daughter (who had probably by now eaten both our shares of pizza).

When I left the trailer through the door—as Paul took the less conventional route through the wall—Trent was standing just outside, his car parked next to one of the other trailers. The rest of the crew was still off somewhere shooting more dramatic footage of drinking and flirting.

“So,” he said, grinning. “You figured it out.”

“Yeah.” I glanced at Paul, standing by with his arms folded, daring me to stand up for myself and my “profession.” “You said yourself you could talk that girl into anything. I should have picked up on that. But I still guess I wasn’t as bad an investigator as you expected.”

“On the contrary, you were exactly what I expected,” Trent answered. “I knew you’d find Tiff if you looked for her. But I also figured you wouldn’t ever take the case, because you were involved with the murder and because we put that scary mannequin in the trailer for you to find. So I felt pretty safe.”

I sneered at him. Well, I
think
I sneered. If you haven’t practiced it in the mirror—and I hadn’t—you can never be sure. “And our little excursion to Sea Bright?” I asked Trent.

“I couldn’t look like I wasn’t doing
anything
to find her,” he explained.

“And the cops never showed up there because you never called them, right?”

Trent didn’t make eye contact. “Something like that. Lieutenant McElone heard about it through you, I guess, so I told her I thought Tiff had gone home in a huff.”

“Uh-huh. Here’s the deal, Trent.” I was making this up as I went along, but it felt like the right direction. “I want to be paid for finding Tiffney.”

He raised an eyebrow mockingly. “But you never took the case,” he said.

“I went with you to Sea Bright. So I was part of the investigative team. And I found her. So you can pay me a fee, or you can let me call my friend Phyllis, who writes for some Internet news sites, and tell her everything I know about your stunt. Her story would probably get picked up nationally long before your show gets to air.” Why not? I could always use the money, and my alternative in dealing with this situation was to punch Trent hard in the stomach, which probably wouldn’t have done me much good overall.

Trent looked surprised, but we negotiated a price that seemed outlandishly high to me and probably a bargain to him. I walked away without punching him, which was also mutually beneficial.

Though it would have felt great.

Back inside, Paul was telling Mom and Melissa he’d finally heard from the spirit of Arlice Crosby, who was just getting used to her new state of being. “She had no idea what happened when she died,” Paul said. “She wouldn’t have been any help in the investigation at all. But she seems very much at peace.”

I regaled the gathering with the Tale of Tiffney until Maxie could contain herself no more. “Where’s my
present
?” she demanded.

Melissa and I exchanged a glance. “Okay. Here’s what we’re thinking. I still need the extra bedroom for guests.”

“You’re taking the attic from me? That’s my present?” Maxie looked appalled. Which was part of the plan.

“Well, yes. But in a way I think you’ll like. Like I said, we need the extra income from more guests. So I am going to be renovating the attic as living space.”

“You really suck at giving presents,” Maxie said, then quickly added: “Sorry, Mom.”

Kitty waved a hand when Melissa told her what Maxie had said; it was irrelevant to her.

“If you’ll let me finish,” I said. “See, Melissa is getting bigger, and if I learned anything from the past week or so, it’s that I’m not crazy about having her living right among all the guests all the time. So I’m thinking we’ll move her into the new attic bedroom and have her current room for guests. It’s a little bigger and has its own bathroom, so I can charge more, and you’ll have company up in the . . .”

But Maxie had stopped listening after
move her into the new attic bedroom
. “Melissa’s going to be my roommate?” she almost whispered.

Oops. I thought she’d like the idea. “Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, but . . .”

“That’s
great
!” Maxie swooped down and gave Liss a hug. “I can’t think of
anybody
I’d rather share a room with,” she said.

Melissa grinned. I wondered how she’d feel when she was fifteen and Maxie still thought of her as a roommate, but for now, it was the perfect solution for all parties concerned. I’d talk to Tony about construction plans tomorrow.

We talked and laughed for quite a while. I managed to snag one slice of pizza away from my mother and my daughter, and then I pulled an ice-cream cake out of the freezer, and we lit a candle and sang “Happy Birthday” a couple of times.

Maxie even managed to blow out the candle. And she was clearly delighted by the entire night.

“What do you think, Maxie?” I asked her. “Can ghosts eat ice-cream cake?”

She floated down from the ceiling and landed on the unoccupied kitchen chair. “I have no idea,” she said. “Let’s find out.”

 

Cleveland’s Garden View Cemetery is hosting a James A. Garfield commemoration. For Pepper Martin, this means that she’ll surely be hearing from the dead president himself. And when she’s assigned to help plan the event with know-it-all volunteer and Garfield fanatic Marjorie Klinker, she’ll wish Marjorie were dead . . . too bad someone beats Pepper to it.

 

 

 

 

 

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NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEED
AN UNINVITED GHOST