Dye Hard (Australian Amateur Sleuth Book 3) Page 2

  There definitely seemed to be some tension between them. Were they former—or current—lovers? I didn’t really care. I’d had more than enough drama in my life, and romantic tension between expert ghost hunters wasn’t something that drew my interest.

  “You mentioned other teams?” I asked, keen to change the subject.

  “Yes,” James replied, smiling that infectious smile I’d seen earlier. “There aren’t many, of course. It’s not an easy field to make a living in, as you can imagine. I’d say we’re one of three, maybe four teams in the whole country that even have the equipment to do it properly.” As James spoke, I detected a definite tone of condescension, as if he were trying to explain a simple concept to a child.

  “What sort of things have you found?” I asked the question quite earnestly, despite taking offense at his tone. While he might not be the easiest person to get along with—or so I assumed, from our brief encounter—he did follow an interesting career path.

  “Oh, lots of things, all of which have been recorded on either film or tape. I assumed you would have taken the time to look us up, seeing that you knew we were coming.”

  I narrowed my eyes at James’s arrogance. He had taken full control of this situation, and Sue was standing awkwardly to the side, as if she were trying to avoid the conversation altogether. I decided she had the right idea.

  “Well, sorry, but I’d never even heard of you until this morning. It’s not as if Cressida posted a big announcement, warning us all not to be blinded by the light of your glorious radiance when you finally saw fit to grace us with your presence.” I was obviously being sarcastic, but James didn’t take offense. Rather, he laughed out loud.

  “I didn’t mean to offend,” he offered, still smiling. “It’s just been a long trip, and as you can imagine, we have this same conversation every time we arrive somewhere new.”

  Chapter 3

  It had been a few days since the ghost hunters had arrived. They’d settled in comfortably, although I found their presence more than a little unsettling. They weren’t exactly quiet when they went about their investigations, and as they did so in the middle of the night, it made sleeping more than a little uncomfortable, even from the distance of my cottage. Knowing they were here specifically to look for ghosts didn’t help, either.

  They had been nice enough to me since their arrival, yet I still found them to be either generally obnoxious or just untrustworthy. I knew it was rude to think that about them, especially since these people hadn’t actually done anything to me. At least, not on purpose. But the lack of sleep combined with their generally arrogant attitude was setting me on edge.

  They weren’t all so bad, though. James switched between being both charming and courteous to being obnoxious and rude. I suspected he was always the latter, but had practiced his façade. Still, he seemed harmless—at least, harmless compared to some of the people I’d met over the last few months or so.

  Alex, the bald man, hadn’t said a word to me, so it was hard to say how I felt about him. He seemed nice enough, but then he literally hadn’t spoken since he got here. I wasn’t sure if he was mute or just quiet. Either way, it was more than a little unsettling.

  Michael was more than a little talkative, and insisted on wearing his scarf, despite the warm weather. I hadn’t seen him without it even once. Was he hiding something, or did he just have poor fashion sense? He did seem to be genuinely nice, which was more than I could say for most of them. He had apologized more than once for the noise they’d been making, although he hadn’t taken any efforts to stop it. I suspected that was due to his lack of power in the group, as James clearly had the final say in all matters.

  Then there was Ken, the man with the goatee. He had been generally reclusive too, much like Alex, though Ken at least had spoken on occasion. He was friendly enough when he had, but on occasion would remain quiet even when asked a direct question. I found that quite unsettling.

  Finally, there was Sue. She had been friendly to me on the day they arrived, but that was the last time we’d spoken. I’d heard her arguing a few times, though I couldn’t tell with whom she was talking. Whoever it was, they were clearly not as loud as she was. I figured she was probably going through a breakup with James, though I still really had no idea if they were even a couple.

  I was up earlier than usual, having walked my yellow labrador, Sandy, an hour earlier than usual due to predicted thunderstorms. I was sitting in my living room, enjoying a simple breakfast of peanut butter on toast, and coffee, when I heard a knock at my door. When I opened it, I saw Cressida standing there, hands on hips, and a furious look plastered on her face. “Oh, dear. What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s that woman!” Cressida yelled. I’d never seen her so angry. I was afraid she’d burst a blood vessel. “Come in and sit down,” I offered. “I’ll make you some tea.” She graciously accepted and took a seat on my sofa. “Now, tell me what happened.”

  “It’s Dorothy.” Cressida practically spat the name. “She won’t stop talking. I’m terribly sorry to speak so rudely of someone, but I can’t stand it. How Mr. Buttons handles her is beyond me.”

  I stepped back into the room with a fresh cup of tea and handed it to Cressida. “What has she done?” I asked. Normally I wouldn’t be interested in these things, but I wanted something to distract me from the ghost hunters. There had been so much drama in my life since I’d moved here, so listening to someone complain about a coworker sounded wonderfully normal.

  “We were talking about that strange man, Alec, or whatever his name is…”

  “Alex.”

  “Thank you, yes, Alex. Anyway, we were wondering why he never spoke, which is when Dorothy said…” Before Cressida could finish, there was a loud banging on the door. I jumped up immediately, startled, and ran to the door.

  When I got there, it swung open. Standing in the doorway was Mr. Buttons, looking flushed and sweating profusely. Oh, great, I thought. Dorothy’s done something to upset him as well. Unfortunately, the truth was much worse.

  Before I could ask what had happened, Mr. Buttons told me. “Sue is dead!”

  My first thought, strangely, was that at least he was to the point, and my second thought was that I might be becoming desensitized. My third thought—disbelief—was a lot more normal. “What do you mean, dead?” I asked. Of course, I knew exactly what he meant, but the question had to be asked. It’s not as if murder is ever any easier. Assuming, of course, that it was indeed murder.

  “I don’t know what’s happened. The ambulance is there right now, and the police have been called. I think she was murdered, Sibyl.” Mr. Buttons’ voice was panic-stricken.

  This was insane. One murder in your home is more than anybody should have to go through. Two is unbelievable. But four? I was starting to think that maybe the place really was haunted.

  “How do you know she was murdered?” I asked.

  Mr. Buttons averted his gaze. “Well,” he replied, “I don’t know, really. But of course it was. Of all people, you would know. After I called the police, I came straight here. As if we ever have accidents here.” He took a seat in the living room opposite Cressida.

  I closed the front door behind him. Cressida’s mouth was hanging open in shock, and her hand had been raised to cover it. She sat there, silently, all color drained from her face.

  I made a fresh batch of tea as we all sat in silence, before I finally spoke. “Exactly what happened?”

  “I was just on my way to the kitchen and was walking past the bathroom on the east wing when I heard a loud thump,” he said. “I knocked on the door and called out, but nobody answered. When I tried the handle, I found it unlocked, and saw her lying on the floor. It was strange, though.”

  You found a dead body, and said something about it was strange, I thought. Aside from detectives and coroners, we’re the only people on earth that wouldn’t find the body itself to be strange. I didn’t say anything, and he continued.

  “We
ll, there wasn’t any blood. At least, not on the floor. But I think there was some in her hair.”

  “What could possibly cause that?” I asked. Mr. Buttons simply shrugged at me and looked at the floor. Another day, another murder. Yet was she murdered, or had she simply slipped?

  I sighed some more. Of course she hadn’t slipped. At that point, I fell straight into a vision. Cressida appeared before me. Her hair was a brighter red than usual, and she was running around my room, screaming. Suddenly, a different vision of Cressida appeared, with her hair the color it is now. She was smiling, and sipping from a tea cup. The vision stopped as abruptly as it had begun.

  Chapter 4

  I sat with Cressida and Mr. Buttons in the kitchen of the boarding house, waiting for the police and medical examiner to arrive.

  I was unable to get rid of the sense of uneasiness, and chewed one thumbnail, occasionally exchanging glances with Cressida.

  Mr. Buttons was the first to speak. “It just doesn’t make any sense. We didn’t hear any screams. She didn’t come out of the bathroom for help—although I think she tried as she was at the door, and it was unlocked—and nobody else was in there with her. What could have possibly happened to her?”

  I shrugged my shoulders, while Cressida continued sipping her coffee. “It could have been anything, really,” I said. “It’s probably best to wait for the cops to sort it all out. We can guess all we’d like, but until some professionals who know what they’re doing take a look, we’re still stuck assuming.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Mr. Buttons agreed. “Those ghost busters upstairs are going to be in for a shocker when they wake up either way, though.”

  “I wonder if the place really is haunted,” I said aloud, but to myself.

  “This place hasn’t been haunted until today,” Cressida protested. “And what’s taking them so long?”

  We sat in silence until the sound of a police siren made us all jump. We hurried to the front door.

  Blake walked up to the door with a thin, older man walking beside him.

  He simply shook his head, his expression grim. “This way,” Mr. Buttons said.

  Mr. Buttons led the solemn procession, Blake and the man behind him, and Cressida bringing up the rear.

  Blake turned to Cressida. “Was deceased one of the ghost investigation team?”

  Cressida nodded. “Her name is Sue, and she came here with four other team members, all men. It was completely unexpected.”

  “It usually is,” Blake said. “So, there were no signs that could have led any of you to believe something was going to happen to her?”

  I shook my head. “Do you think something was done to her?” I did not want to use the term murdered.

  Blake glanced around the narrow corridor. “It’s impossible to tell until we get in there and see what the scene tells us.” He motioned for the doctor to follow him into the bathroom, and then turned to Mr. Buttons. “Please stay out here and make sure nobody disturbs us while we investigate.”

  Mr. Buttons nodded. “Of course.”

  Blake closed the door as he disappeared into the bathroom. Mr. Buttons motioned to us to join him, and we all leaned close with our ears to the door.

  There was no sound for a few moments, and then Blake spoke. “What do you think, Doctor Smythe?”

  “I’m thinking this looks like a case of anaphylaxis. I’d say the manner of death was natural.”

  Cressida, Mr. Buttons, and I exchanged glances.

  “You think?”

  I could tell Blake’s voice held more than a note of disbelief.

  “All signs point to it. See these red patches on her forearm, here? Those are hives from an allergic reaction. And look here. See the swelling around the throat and mouth? She must have gone into shock using this hair dye. It’s a well-known brand, so that is just another reason to rule out any sort of tampering.”

  Again, here was silence for a few moments, and the three of us leaned even closer to the door.

  “Can you at least run a tox screen on the victim?”

  “She’s not a victim, Sergeant,” the man said sternly. “I don’t think it’s necessary, to be entirely honest.”

  Blake pressed on. “So, is anaphylaxis common?”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s common, per se. It does happen, however, and not infrequently.”

  “I think I’ll at least have the forensics team collect that bottle for testing. If something foreign was added to the lotion, it could have triggered the reaction.”

  “Sergeant, I truly think you’re over thinking this. It’s clear-cut. The girl needed medical attention immediately and went into shock before she was able to find help. It was a natural death, I assure you.”

  Blake grunted and let out a loud sigh. Seconds later, the door swung open, and the three of us jumped back, doing our best to appear as if we hadn’t been listening into the conversation.

  Blake narrowed his eyes at us. “Well, it seems as if the doctor has determined the death was from natural causes. I don’t need to tell you not to go in there, and an ambulance will be along soon to collect the body. I’ll be right back.” With that, he hurried down the corridor with the doctor.

  “What do we do?” Cressida said. “This is the only bathroom on the east wing. The ghost hunters will be awake soon, and they’ll want to use the bathroom. Should I put an Out Of Order sign on the door and lock it?”

  I had no idea what to do, so I was relieved when Mr. Buttons spoke. “Blake shouldn’t be too long. Let’s just wait here, and Blake can break the news to them.”

  Several minutes later, Blake walked back inside without the older man. “Sorry for walking out like that, but I just don’t agree with his assessment of the scene. Something just seems out of place, but it’s more of a gut feeling than anything else.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Allergic reactions usually give someone time to react, even if it’s only enough time to call for help. People who have known severe allergic reactions carry an adrenaline autoinjector with them, and they obviously have time to inject it. None of you heard her calling for anyone or screaming in pain, right?”

  “I didn’t hear anything except a loud bang,” Mr. Buttons said. “Not a peep otherwise. Anyway, what about an autopsy? Is one being done?”

  Blake was clearly frustrated. “Doctor Smythe isn’t open to performing one on the victim. He’s so sure her death was due to natural causes that he won’t even take the time to look into it further.”

  I sighed. “Blake, if someone did this, who could it be, and what would be their reasoning behind it? It wouldn’t make much sense.”

  Blake frowned. “Murder never makes sense. We’re going to treat it like a natural passing, but if anything else happens that seems out of place, call me right away. Don’t hesitate. Now I’ll have to track down her next of kin. I’ll need to speak to the other members of her team.”

  Right at that moment, I heard the creaking of the old, tallow wood floor boards as the four men from the ghost hunting team climbed down the stairs. I bit my lip. They were in for most unpleasant and distressing news. I wanted to be anywhere but here.

  “What’s going on?” James asked. “Why are the police here?” The others stood behind him, their jaws open in surprise.

  Ken pushed forward to the front of the group. “Why are the cops here?”

  Mr. Buttons, Cressida, and I all looked at Blake.

  James looked around frantically. “Wait a minute, where’s Sue?” A look of panic washed over his face. “Has something happened to Sue?”

  Blake stepped forward. “I’m Sergeant Blake Wessley. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Sue was found deceased this morning.”

  The four men gasped in unison and James’s hand flew to his throat. “What happened? She was just fine last night!” His voice broke into a choke.

  “We haven’t ascertained the cause of death yet, but we will be looking into it.”

  Confu
sed, I spoke. “But I thought…”

  Blake’s withering glare silenced me. He turned back to the ghost hunters. “Right now we think the hair dye she was using at the time of death played a role. It could have been natural, an allergic reaction, or it might have been from some tampering. We’re going to run some tests and then we’ll know for sure. There’s no point in speculating until we do know for sure.”

  I didn’t know anything about police procedure, but I wondered if Blake would be able to investigate despite the doctor saying the death was by natural causes. My best guess was that Blake did suspect foul play, and saw the ghost hunters as the most likely bunch of suspects.

  James crossed his arms over his chest. “So, you’re telling me one of my closest friends is gone and you can’t even tell me why?” His tone was belligerent.

  Blake’s frown deepened. “As I already stated, we won’t know for sure until we run tests.”

  James stepped back. “This is ridiculous. She was just fine last night.”

  Ken tapped his arm. “Hey man, maybe we should head back home and take a break from this stuff for a bit.”

  James turned to Ken. “What? Are you serious? We need this. For all we know, the ghosts could have done this to her. We aren’t going anywhere!”

  “You’re right. You guys are staying put until we know for sure what happened here,” Blake said. “Now, may I ask the whereabouts of each of you this morning?” He pulled a small notebook from his pocket and readied a pen. He glanced at the men, waiting for an answer.

  “We were all here,” Ken said, “sleeping.”

  “Yeah, asleep,” James added. He then sank to the ground and sobbed wildly, his shoulders shaking.

  Alex patted his shoulder awkwardly, while Mr. Buttons, Cressida and I looked at each other, at a loss what to do.

  Michael bent over James, muttering words of comfort, while Alex just stood there, his hands on his hips.