After entering the parlor, Camilla looked at Marie and blurted, “You’re dead.”
“What do you think you are?” Marie asked.
“Dead, obviously. This is a little overwhelming. I never imagined I’d run into someone I knew who had also died.” Camilla turned from Marie to Eva, who had been standing quietly in the background. She studied the spirit for a moment before blurting, “You’re Eva Thorndike! Are you Eva Thorndike?”
Eva smiled at Camilla. “Yes, I am.”
“I don’t believe it!” She looked back to Marie and asked, “Is this what happens when we die? We become invisible and stick around? Except, not invisible to everyone. Heather Donovan can see me. She talked to me after she killed me.”
“Heather did not kill you.” Marie pointed to the nearby sofa. “Sit down.”
“She most certainly did!” Camilla insisted.
“Please sit down,” Eva asked.
Reluctantly, Camilla took a seat on the sofa, while Marie sat next to her, and Eva sat across from them on a chair.
“I was with Heather the day you were killed,” Marie said. “I was in the women’s bathroom at Pier Café when you ran into Heather. For the next few hours, until she went to work, I stayed with Heather. She never saw you again after she left Pier Café.”
Camilla stubbornly shook her head. “No. You have to be wrong.”
“Why are you so insistent Heather killed you?” Eva asked.
Camilla looked to Eva. “You really are Eva Thorndike, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“I understand your portrait is at the museum. But I haven’t been to the museum yet. I read some online articles about you and your portrait,” Camilla explained.
“Why don’t you answer Eva’s question?” Marie asked.
Camilla looked at Marie and frowned. “I remember you were always bossy. I heard someone murdered you. Smothered with a pillow, right?”
“Yes, and they arrested my killer. We’d like to see yours arrested as well. But you are making it difficult by not answering Eva’s question.”
“I already told you who killed me. And I also want my killer arrested. Actually, she already was, but they let her go. I want her arrested again, and this time sent to prison.”
“If that happens, the wrong person would be punished for your murder. Please answer Eva’s question. Why do you insist Heather killed you? I understand someone stabbed you in the back. Tell us what you saw.”
“You mean when I was murdered?”
Marie nodded.
Camilla shrugged. “Nothing. I stopped to use the public restroom along the beach. After I came back outside, I felt a horrible pain in my back and folded over and fell to the ground. I assumed I’d passed out, and when I woke up, I was outside and no longer hurt. I walked back into the bathroom to look in the mirror to straighten my hair. But when I stepped inside, there was a woman on the floor, blood covering her back.”
“It was you,” Marie said.
Camilla nodded. “I didn’t realize that then. I was confused and tried to get help, but everyone ignored me. At least, I assumed they were ignoring me. I didn’t realize they couldn’t see or hear me. It got dark. Then the sun came up. I ended up in front of Heather Donovan’s house. I spoke to her, and unlike the others, she answered me. It felt all wrong. I ran off and eventually ended up back on the beach. And then I ran into Joe Morelli and Clay Bowman walking along the ocean. I tried asking them for help. But like the others, they ignored me. And we ended up back in the public restroom. I followed Clay into the bathroom, and she was still there. But then, I realized who it really was. I had been murdered.”
“You still haven’t explained why you insist it was Heather,” Marie said.
Camilla looked to Marie. “I eventually returned to Uncle Homer’s house. My sister and brother were there talking. Ted said Heather had followed me after I left the restaurant and stabbed me after I walked out of the bathroom. My sister didn’t understand why they let her go after arresting her.”
* * *
Heather whispered to Brian why the dogs had been barking. She excused herself, stood up, and headed for the doorway leading to the entry hall.
Moments later, Heather walked into the parlor and shut the door behind her. She found Camilla and Marie sitting on the sofa with Eva sitting across from her. The three spirits looked up at Heather when she walked into the room.
Camilla stood and pointed to Heather. “You! You killed me!”
“Sit down, Camilla,” Marie ordered. “Heather did not kill you. I told you I was with her when someone killed you.”
“And why would I kill you?” Heather asked. “So your annoying spirit can barge into my house whenever it wants, and there’s nothing I can do about it?”
“You hit me at my uncle’s funeral.”
“She didn’t hit you. I did,” Marie confessed.
Camilla looked down at Marie but said nothing. Instead, she marched over to Heather and slapped her across the face. Fortunately for Heather, Camilla’s hand moved effortlessly through Heather’s face without inflicting pain.
“What was that for?” Heather asked.
“To prove a point.” Camilla turned to Marie. “I may be new at this, but I know once you become a… what are we… a ghost?”
Marie shrugged. “A good enough name.”
“When we become a ghost, it’s impossible to hit someone. I certainly know that, considering the frustration I’ve experienced since this woman took my life.” Camilla flashed Heather a glare. “People not listening to me, and at the time I did not know why. I confess, I started throwing hands, but it never seemed to matter. Nothing. That’s why I know you couldn’t have hit me. Because, like me, you’re a ghost.”
Marie let out a sigh. “You have a lot to learn, dear.” The sofa Marie sat on rose into the air. Camilla’s eyes widened at the sight. The next moment, the sofa lowered back to its original spot on the floor.
“What just happened?” Camilla demanded.
“Some of us spirits—or, as you called us, ghosts—can harness energy. Just as I lifted the sofa, I can move energy so it feels like a slap. I shouldn’t have done it. I realize that now. Because Heather did not deserve to be slapped at your uncle’s funeral. I know you would not have struck her had I not hit you. For that I apologize.”
* * *
After Heather left the living room, Danielle walked over to the sofa and sat down next to Brian. Brian leaned over to Danielle and whispered, “Camilla was just here?”
Danielle nodded. “So were Eva and Marie. They headed to the parlor. I assume that’s where Heather is.”
“Did Camilla say who killed her?” Brian asked.
Danielle cringed. “Sort of.”
“What did she say?”
“She claimed Heather killed her.”
Brian turned toward Danielle. “What?”
With a smile, Danielle reached out and touched Brian’s wrist. “It doesn’t mean Heather killed her. Remember, someone stabbed Camilla in the back, and it’s possible she didn’t see who did it.”
“But why would she claim Heather killed her?” Brian asked.
Danielle shrugged. “Probably for the same reason Stoddard insisted I murdered him when I didn’t. And like I had an alibi back then, so does Heather. Marie was with her during the time Camilla was killed.”
“I wasn’t suggesting Heather killed Camilla. Never thought that for a moment. I just wondered why Camilla would say something like that. While my ex-wife and I had our differences, the woman I knew when we were married would never falsely accuse someone of murder.”
“She would if she sincerely believed Heather had murdered her,” Danielle reminded him.
* * *
Curious to find out what was going on, Brian excused himself and left the living room. When he stepped into the parlor a few minutes later, he found Heather standing by the small desk.
He shut the door behind him and asked, “Are you alone?”
Heather shook her head. “No. Marie and Eva are here with Camilla.”
“Where?”
Heather pointed to a spot several feet away. “Camilla’s standing right there. Marie’s on the sofa, and Eva’s on one chair across from the sofa.”
“Does Camilla still think you killed her?” Brian asked.
Heather smiled. “Who told you?”
“Danielle. Does Camilla still believe you murdered her?”
Heather looked at Camilla. “Do you, Camilla? Has Marie convinced you, or do you still think I killed you?”
Brian waited for the answer. After a moment, Heather looked at Brian and cringed. “Apparently, she does. Claims no one else would want her dead.”
“Tell her—” Brian began, only to be interrupted by Heather, who said, “She just left.”
“Oh dear, there is someone else who wanted her dead,” Marie said.
Heather looked at Marie. “Who?”
“Her brother.” Marie then told Heather what she had overheard the brother say on the phone at Lucy’s Diner.