Murder in Death's Door County (23 page)

In fact, the only problem we had the
whole week came in the form of Cindy. And it wasn’t even “us” who had the
problem—it was me. Kitty had let Lizzy into her office to take a quick catnap a
few days into our new routine. Anyway, apparently, Cindy still held a grudge
from the coffee-spilling incident (!!!) and transferred her anger from Lizzy to
me. Or maybe she split it evenly. Every time she came to the bar to fill an
order, she scowled at me. On this particular day of subbing for Lizzy, I was
working behind the bar with George, who had gone on break. I resolved to find
out why she detested us so much—it couldn’t just be about spilt coffee, right?

“Here’s my drink order,” Cindy barked to
me.

“Sure,” I said, approaching the bar.
After preparing her drinks, I seized the opportunity to talk to her.

“Say, uh, Cindy, can I talk to you for a
sec?”

“What do you want?” she hissed. Yipe! I’d
hate to meet her in a dark alley.

I cleared my throat nervously. Summoning
up a little of the courage that let me quit CritiCentric so spectacularly, “Um,
I’m really just trying to figure out what Lizzy and I did to piss you off so
much.”

Was it my imagination or did her eyes
turn red? “What you did? You’re very presence pisses me off!”

She flipped back her long blonde hair
defiantly. Ugh! One of her hairs landed in a beer I had just poured for her
table. “Um, Cindy? You, a, have a –”

She cut me off, “Do not even say my
name!” Her voice lowered to a growly hiss, “in time you will be sorry for what
you have done!” With that, she grabbed her tray and swept out of the bar area,
rather imperiously, if you ask me. Also, and this was the really curious part,
it sounded like her voice had slipped into a slight Greek-sounding accent.

Her accent reminded me of the case. The
case that we hadn’t worked on since the explosion. Thankfully, we were both
whole and mostly healthy after what happened, but I was starting to get anxious
to find resolution. After all, I still had the jewels hidden away, plus the
cops hadn’t caught Harry’s killer yet. Johnny Michaels had stopped by Lizzy’s
sister’s a few days ago and notified Lizzy and I that Harry’s killer was
probably behind Joyce’s death and the explosion. He questioned me regarding the
guys who swapped out my phone. I told him what I could, but I couldn’t remember
much. But now, with that hint of an accent, I started remembering those
slickster guys at the wine bar. A germ of an idea started in my brain. Lizzy
and I needed to ditch the guard soon to do some investigating.

Fortunately, during my confrontation
with Cindy, our guard hadn’t seen what happened. The second shift guard,
Charlie Szablewski, probably loved the assignment more than the other two. He
had benefitted the most when from guarding us. He enjoyed hanging out at the
Lighthouse Inn while “babysitting” us; whereas, the other two guards were
mostly limited to the Williams’ house. We had discovered that Charlie had a
weakness for baseball, and given that his team was in the World Series, it
seemed like a Win-Win. Especially since he got to work in a bar-slash-restaurant
while watching over us. With him so focused on the game, I realized that Lizzy
and I had the perfect way to get away from him, for at least a few hours.

“Is everything okay, Annie?” George
asked cheerfully as he returned to the bar. “I just saw Cindy stomping out for
a smoke. And I didn’t mean to overhear,” he added with a twinkle in his eyes, “but
I could’ve sworn she was muttering your name and Lizzy’s.”

Frowning, I shrugged. George gently
touched my shoulder, “Watch your back with her. I don’t know why Kitty keeps
her and Millicent on, but I do know that Cindy has a mean streak. I’ve heard
stories of how Millicent tormented her peers at the same age. Cindy makes her
look like Snow White. I’m just sayin’.”

“A word to the wise and all that?” I
gave him a tremulous smile. Why did I let Cindy get to me so much? I thought I
had found backbone back when I confronted Tessa (which did feel like another
lifetime).

George laughed and lighted ruffled my
hair, “I like you, kid. Just remember, don’t let Cindy get your goat. Ignore
her. Dig in, do your job, and let it go.”

And so went the rest of the week until
Lizzy returned to work. A slight problem surfaced when Lizzy came back for her
job, I had to stop doing it. While the regulars loved to see Lizzy back, I was
loathe to quit working. I comforted myself with the fact that at least I would
still get to hang out at the Lighthouse Inn while Lizzy worked.

At some point after Lizzy returned, we
went down to Sturgeon Bay to get a new phone for me. After much finagling and a
little bit of begging, I got my new phone. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to
save any of my phone numbers, since my old phone (and chip) had exploded.
However, I only needed one phone number. Before we made any more stops, I had
to call Grandpa and Aunt Helen to make sure they knew I was safe. I was sure
they had tried to call me a few times already.

I punched in their number, and let it
ring. The phone rang and rang and rang. I left them a message that I was all
right. I didn’t say where I was, but I let them know that I was alive and out
of town for a few days.

And I still thought about my plans to
get us investigating without our shadow. I hadn’t talked to Lizzy about my
plans—they were still formulating in my head. Then, out of blue, our
investigation came to forefront immediately and unexpectedly. Lizzy and I got
an unexpected treat delivered to us about two days before Halloween.

After the crazy-busyness of the Halloween
tourists over the past weekend, the Lighthouse Inn was practically dead. The
dinner crowd was non-existent and only a few regulars, me, and my security
guard sat at the bar. Almost the minute I got there, Lizzy said our
pre-ordained code word. When the guard became a fixture in our lives, we
designated the word “banana” to mean “I need to talk to you right away!”

Beckoning me to follow her, in the
hallway Lizzy waved two tickets in front of my face, “Look what someone sent
us!” She almost shouted it in her excitement, but didn’t want to attract the
attention of our “watchdog.”

Lowering her voice to a whispering, she
pulled me into the bar’s storage area, “Seriously, check out these Haunted Tour
tickets! This will be really fun and should take our minds off of this
stalemate.” She handed me the tickets.

“Who sent them?” Taking the tickets, I
looked really closely at them. I don’t know what I expected to find. A hidden
code on the tickets? A spot of dirt on the tickets that could only come from
the clay dirt in a specific part of Egg Harbor? Whatever it was, I didn’t see
it.

“That’s really cool. I hope you have
fun,” I said dejectedly, handing her back the tickets.

“Oh, we will-… Wait, why aren’t you
going?”

I jerked my thumb back at Mr. Baseball. “When
is it even? How can you even go? I’m assuming it’s a nighttime event. And
before Wednesday, right? I mean, Wednesday is Halloween. And, let me count...
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. That’s only three days away!”

Lizzy made a “Pish” gesture at me. We
both knew that as one of Kitty’s best friends, Kitty would probably give her
the time off—even last minute.

Lizzy added, “But to answer your first
question, the tickets are for Tuesday!” Then she proceeded to make a scary “Woooo!”
sound, presumably to get me in the mood for Halloween. I wasn’t real big on
Halloween, but was intrigued by a Haunted Tour.

“Crap! So it’s tomorrow night. I really
want to go... oh, if only we could lose my shadow. Why oh why did we let
Donovan saddle us with this guy?”

“Humpf! Us?” Lizzy laughed as we walked
back to the bar area. “We are saddled, but we can get away if we really want to
badly enough.” She winked at me, and added in a whisper, “Besides, I have a
plan. When we get home tonight, I’ll tell you all about it.”

Later that night, Lizzy, her sister, and
I were hunched over Maggie’s kitchen table at one in the morning, putting the
final touches on Lizzy’s plan to get us away from our shadow. Seriously! We
just wanted to have some fun! Was that too much to ask? When we were at Lizzy’s
sister’s house, all of the guards stayed pretty much to themselves in the
living room. They switched shifts every eight hours. Needless to say, I didn’t
really know the third shift guard very well since I was usually sleeping when
he arrived and departed. Not that they weren’t nice and respectful and all
that, but I would be über-glad when Harry’s killer was caught and we were free
to come and go. Frankly, I felt like I was being punished for a crime I didn’t
commit.

Therefore, I agreed willingly to the deception
we were about to do to the poor guard. Poor guard, what am I saying? This
illusion we were creating had more to do with smoke and mirrors, disguised as
beer, pizza, and Game 6 of the World Series.

The following afternoon, Lizzy filled
George in on the plan, since we would need his help.

“Naturally, anything for my little
sweetie-pies,” George said, as reported by Lizzy. She texted me a “thumbs-up”
and “Operation Distract Charlie can begin.” Charlie and I got to the bar about
an hour before the game started. Lizzy and I had an hour and a half to put our
plan in motion and get to the starting point for the Haunted Tour.

We figured that, with George’s help, we
could plant Charlie at the bar to watch Game 7 of the World Series. The teams
were tied at three apiece, so I knew he would be focused. After getting Charlie
settled with his beer and pizza, Lizzy and I slipped out the back door. I
crossed my fingers that the Tigers played well, which would easily buy us more
time.

“Who do you think sent us the tickets?”
I asked Lizzy as we clambered into her truck.

“Beats me, but isn’t it awesome that
they did? Maybe it’s some weird admirers after what happened last week.” Lizzy
shrugged it off. She was probably right, too. We had gotten a few odd gifts
delivered to us at the Lighthouse Inn. What’s that saying? Oh, yes, don’t look
a gift horse in the mouth.

So, we got to the start of the tour in
Fish Creek just in time. Apparently, it was a walking tour of the older homes
in downtown Fish Creek. The crisp night air and dark sky above really added to
the atmosphere.

The tour guide played his part well,
too. Dressed like Vincent Price from the classic horror movie,
Fall of the
House of Usher
, he greeted us all with an affected accent, “Welcome to the
Haunted Tour of Fish Creek’s Historical Homes,” and proceeded to explain how
the tour would go. In the next two hours, we would go through five of the most
haunted homes in Fish Creek.

The tour began in an old Victorian home
that stood slightly back from the main drag. Eerie lights shone throughout the
house as the tour guide explained the ghost situation. He recounted a tale of
lives lost through a shipwreck in the bay and a Typhoid outbreak. Lizzy grabbed
my arm, causing me to jump about two feet high.

“I think I saw something!” she whispered
in my ear, still clutching my arm.

Slapping her hand away, I said, “No way.
You’re just affected by the atmosphere. C’mon, Lizzy.”

And on we went like that throughout the
Painted Lady and at the next stop, an old Cape Cod house across the street.
Once or twice, I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye, too, but
I didn’t want to feed into Lizzy’s nerves.

At our third stop, which was a few “doors”
down... our tour guide took us to a cemetery. On the cemetery grounds was a
little caretaker’s house that was supposed to be haunted. The house looked the
most haunted of all of them. For a caretaker’s house, it didn’t look much
cared-for through the ages. In the dark, the little house (which was barely
more than a shack) looked dark grey. The shutters were falling off and the
porch looked like if one stepped on it, one might go through it. A shiver went
through me.

“Did you hear that?” Lizzy broke into my
thoughts.

“For the umpteenth time, no! For
goodness’ sake, Lizzy, we are on a ghost tour! You should expect to see ghosts!”

“Bah! You’re no fun! Being scared is
part of the fun. Any ninny knows that,” Lizzy moved ahead of me, clearly in a
snit.

Somehow, the dark got a little darker as
I walked on, alone. “Oof!” I exclaimed as I tripped over a gravestone. “Lizzy?
Are you there?” I couldn’t even see her anymore.

I couldn’t see much more than my hands
in front of my face. I thought the entire tour had left me in the dust.

Behind me, I heard a twig snap. I turned
around quickly, but couldn’t see anything because of the dark. I was able to
make out the silhouette of a tree, but... I rubbed my eyes. Was that tree
moving? Was that tree moving towards me? Oh my gosh! I screamed as the tree got
closer and... shushed me. Wait, shushed me?

“Shush, Annie! It’s just me, Donovan!”

“Wow, you really freaked me out!” I was
shaking all over and could feel my heart pounding.

“Sorry. Hey—where’s Lizzy?”

“You’re not mad I gave Charlie the slip?”
I looked up at him skeptically.

“We’ll get to that in a minute.”

“Oh.” Nervously, I licked my lips.