Page 14 of A Midsummer Night’s Ghost (Murder By Design #8)

FOURTEEN

If there was a narrator describing my life, he would say, “You have chosen poorly,” in a deep ominous voice.

I knew it immediately the second I stepped into Dad’s and was enveloped in a giant hug by Nancy, his girlfriend. I didn’t know Nancy from Adam, so it seemed overly familiar to me and was wildly uncomfortable. It also felt like I was betraying my mother.

My father gave me a one-armed hug once Nancy finally released me.

“Why are you here again?” he asked, sounding very confused by the whole thing.

That made two of us. “They’re removing asbestos from our basement.”

“You don’t need to remove asbestos,” Dad said with a very thorough and very confident older man scoff. “Every house has it.”

“I don’t think they do. Not anymore. They say it gives you cancer.”

“Everything gives you cancer.”

Help me.

“I don’t think that’s true either.” I set my bag down. “Am I staying in my old room?”

Nancy bit her bottom lip. “Well…” She looked to my father for help.

“That room is off-limits. You can stay in the den.”

“The den? There are five bedrooms!”

“We’re using them all. Just stay downstairs.”

“Using them for what?”

Okay, that was a dangerous question to ask, but it just came out before I could stop it.

Nancy looked embarrassed and guilty.

My father looked like he was about to hand down a it’s-none-of-your-business speech.

This was fun.

“Fine. I’ll stay in the den. Thanks for letting me stay here.” I had half a mind to snoop around upstairs after they went to bed but I was afraid of getting caught. I was also afraid of what I might find.

I also was afraid to think about the fact that my dad and Nancy were going to bed together.

Sure, I knew that in theory, but seeing it for myself was another thing altogether.

I might have to call my sister on the way to work tomorrow and spill the tea. This also messed up my plan to have my sister stay here when she came to town. There was no way I was subjecting my nieces and nephew to this nonsense. I hadn’t even encountered the corn sign yet for myself.

“Put your bag down and come into the kitchen and have a drink with us,” my dad said.

Everything in my father’s life came with a drink.

“I got one of those shark coochie boards,” Nancy said. “Your dad said you like those.”

I blinked.

It took me a second to even grasp what she meant and then I wasn’t sure if she was being serious or making a joke so I just smiled. “Oh, wow, that was thoughtful.” I eyed my father. “I’ll take a glass of wine.”

I needed one to get through this social hour.

Unfortunately, Nancy didn’t eat any of her shark coochie board and drank four glasses of wine faster than I had ever seen anyone ever. At which point she blurted out that she and my father had turned my old bedroom into a “playroom” and not for kids.

I choked on an almond and saw my life flash before my eyes before my dad whomped me on the back and dislodged the nut.

“Holy crap,” I managed, sucking down half a glass of water.

“Spicy?” Nancy asked, her words slurring.

“Not as spicy as you two, apparently.”

“Bailey Margaret, knock it off,” my father said.

“Oh, it’s okay, pookie,” Nancy told him, massaging his arm. “This is all new for her.”

Nothing about my father screamed “pookie” but I supposed there was no nickname to suggest alcoholic-on-the-golf-course either.

I would have gone to my room except I didn’t have one.

Nancy and Dad had no such issues.

“We’re heading upstairs,” Dad said. “Gotta get up early.”

“No, you don’t,” Nancy said, sounding confused. “You said you don’t have anything until noon.”

My father gave her a look. A heated look.

“Oh!” she said. “Oh, oh, right . Of course. That thing you have to do. You definitely need your rest , pookie.”

Nancy wasn’t the brightest bulb in the pack. She also had no acting skills. Bud Miller, who kept falling asleep during our Midsummer rehearsals, and occasionally yelled out, “Take your marks!” for no reason was a better actor than Nancy.

My father shook his head, as if even he was mystified as to what he saw in his girlfriend.

Nancy slurped the last of her wine and said, “Pookie, your little blue pills are in the top drawer of the island. You’d better grab one.”

I would rather breathe in a vat of asbestos than endure this for one more second.

My father’s cheeks and nose were always red because he drank too much, but they were noticeably darker. He looked like an overripe tomato.

That didn’t stop him from digging out a pill bottle from the drawer. “Blood pressure meds,” he told me.

Because blood pressure medication was always blue. Not. But I allowed him his bad cover up because I never, ever wanted to discuss any of this ever again.

Mrs. Marner’s comments about me not cooking and taking advantage of Jake were nothing compared to this. I would welcome them in comparison.

“Goodnight,” I said, taking a sip of wine from my glass and not making eye contact.

I’d only had a third of a glass, which should enter me into the hall of fame for Incredible Restraint. But I couldn’t afford a headache or a hangover. I had to be at work early tomorrow, looking professional and prepped for my appointments.

I was covering up the charcuterie board with plastic wrap so the cheeses didn’t dry out when I got a text from Sara.

Been DMing with James’s friend and he has some interesting info. Meeting him in ten minutes. You should come up to Danny O’s.

That was a phenomenally bad idea.

For many reasons. Starting with the fact that I had to be on point at work tomorrow and ending with the fact that everyone at that bar hated me.

There was a thump from above my head.

Then the distinct sound of Nancy moaning.

No. No and no.

Be there in twenty.

I had no idea what Sara thought any conversation was going to accomplish, but she reminded me of myself a few months ago. Digging, digging. I respected that she felt something was off and wanted to right a wrong.

These days I was a little preoccupied and getting the message loud and clear from everyone in my life that slinking around alleyways and meeting up with strangers was neither smart nor effective.

But I would anywhere that wasn’t here right now.

I shoved the charcuterie into the fridge and got the hell out of Dad’s den of iniquity.

Sara Murphy didn’t look like she belonged in Danny O’s any more than I did, and yet when I walked in she was the center of a group of four or five men and they were all laughing and taking a shot together.

“Bailey, hi!” She waved enthusiastically. “Come over and meet the guys!”

At that moment, it occurred to me that I should tell my boyfriend where I was so I waved back and then shot off a text to Jake that Dad’s was terrible and I was out with Sara for an hour or two. I couldn’t bring myself to type out that I was at Danny O’s but we shared locations with each other so if I disappeared he could figure out from where.

But no one seemed ready to attack me, so that was a good start. I was wearing leggings and a sweatshirt, which should help me blend, but didn’t. I actually stood out as underdressed next to Sara’s very sexy crop top and denim shorts.

“This is Brian,” Sara said, pointing to the man immediately next to her.

“Hi,” he said. It was tattoo guy.

My shoulders tensed.

But he was smiling so I didn’t feel in danger. Not yet anyway.

“Let’s go over here!” Sara said, grabbing her drink and hopping down off of the stool. “No, no guys, not another shot right now,” she said with a laugh when the other men all protested her departure. “I’m going to have a chat with my friends and then I’ll be back and we’ll see how drunk you can get me.”

That resulted in a loud cheer of approval.

Sara Murphy was feeling some kind of way. I was a little concerned for her safety.

“I don’t think you should do multiple shots with random men,” I told her. “And yes, I’m that girl, but that doesn’t seem safe.”

“Oh, I’m not actually going to do that.” She waved her hand. “I paid the bartender twenty bucks to make my shots non-alcoholic. But it gets the guys to open up to me if I seem like a party girl.”

Wow. That was impressive. “Bartenders will do that?”

“Hell, yeah, they will. They keep the bribe, and up charge the other customer for a shot that is dirt cheap because there’s no alcohol in it.”

I needed to get out more or watch more crime TV. That would have never occurred to me.

She rattled her straw. “This is just club soda with a lime.” She looked over. “Brian, come join us for a second.”

“Coming.” Brian grabbed his beer and followed us.

Once the three of us were seated at a high top table, Sara smiled at me. “Brian is James’s brother. It’s been so great talking to him and getting to hear about what an intriguing life James has led.”

“Oh, wow, I didn’t know. I’m sorry for your loss,” I told Brian.

He nodded. “Thanks. I’m sorry about what happened last week when you came in here. Emotions were just raw for all of us and that was the first Joy heard about James’s death so she was obviously upset.”

“But you knew.”

He gave another nod. “Yes. My mother was notified and she called me the day it happened. I was in shock. I didn’t even tell my girlfriend because she’s tight with Joy and well, Joy and James were toxic together. I can’t stand that bitch for what she’s put my brother through.”

“Custody issues,” Sara said, nodding sympathetically. “Joy was basically blackmailing James into staying with her.”

“But she has a boyfriend. Why did she want to hold onto James?”

“Control.” Brian sighed and sipped his beer. “I like her boyfriend, Don. He’s nice enough but he’s under Joy’s spell too.”

Don was the guy who had helped me off the fence, clearly. “He did seem nice.”

I wasn’t sure what this mysterious power was that Joy had over men. Then again, Brian’s own girlfriend was mean, so this group of guys had bad taste in women. Who was I to judge?

“I just don’t think James would have killed himself.”

“We’re all thinking that way,” Sara assured him. “Do you think Joy could have done it?”

Brian rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. I guess she’s capable of anything, really. She both loved and hated James. They fought constantly. She’s the whole reason he had pending domestic charges against him. She was always drinking and then attacking him. Last time it was a pair of scissors. Got him in the arm. But then James would push her away and she’d call the cops and they’d both get arrested. He wasn’t even supposed to see her because of the charges but they couldn’t stay away from each other.”

“Classic,” Sara said, with a nod. “Addicted to the drama.”

“So you found out he passed away, got a tattoo, and didn’t tell your girlfriend or Joy?”

Brian nodded. He was a nodder. “I guess it doesn’t even matter how he died. He’s dead.” He lifted his beer bottle.

“I don’t think anyone should be allowed to get away with murder,” Sara said.

“I agree.”

But I wasn’t sure what any of us could do about it.

The police hadn't deemed it suspicious and the medical examiner had labeled the manner of death undetermined. I doubted the medical examiner was going to let me waltz into his office and give an argument as to why it should be homicide. I had no proof. I actually had no reason to even think it was homicide.

Other than James’s ghost, who couldn’t even interact with me.

“Sometimes it’s just better to leave things alone,” Brian said. “No good ever came from stirring the pot. That’s what my mother always says.”

“My mother says we should leave it to the proper authorities,” Sars said.

“My mother says we have to speak for those who can’t speak for themselves,” I said. “And that mandatory sentencing for drug related convictions is stupid.” I shrugged. “She’s a prosecutor.”

Brian’s demeanor immediately changed. His expression became guarded. “I’ll let you two catch up,” he said, and slipped off of his stool and returned to the men at the bar.

Heads swiveled and I got a bad feeling.

Now they were all eyeing me with the same suspicion. “Time to go!” I told Sara with forced cheerfulness. “You’ll be at the play, right?”

The seniors kept referring to it as opening night, but they were only performing the play once so I wasn’t sure if that was meant to be ironic or just elderly confusion. At any rate, our rehearsals had been going about as well as expected—muddled and ineffective.

Sara had sworn she wouldn’t step foot back in the senior center until there was a whole crowd there for the play. I found it hard to believe she actually considered herself in danger. It seemed like a convenient excuse to just dip out on being the play’s director.

I couldn’t blame her.

“I’m not sure I can make it,” she said noncommittally, before sipping her soda water. “I’ll look at my schedule.”

“It’s in four days.”

“Hmm.”

One of the men had gotten up off of his stool and was coming our way.

“Bye,” I said, gave a wave, and got the heck out of there.

The house was quiet when I got back and I made myself a makeshift bed on the sofa in the den with some blankets and throw pillows. A cat appeared out of nowhere and jumped on my lap.

“You scared me,” I whispered to him.

It was a tabby, chubby and purring as he kneaded the fabric of the blanket.

“Do you belong to Nancy?”

Dad had never been a cat lover, but Nancy had clearly opened up his eyes to a whole new world of shark coochie and cats.

And little blue pills.

I rolled onto my side and tried to remember I was an adult and it didn’t matter.

When I fell asleep I had a dream where a shark was emerging from a bright blue slushie.

Pookie , the shark said. Everyone take their marks .

It was not a restful night’s sleep. I went to work the next morning grateful I no longer worked remotely and I could go to a beautiful showroom and disappear inside sourcing chandeliers.

With people who were all alive.