3
Sebbie
Well, this was unexpected. I was all dressed up with no one to reap.
I leaned on my silver scythe and stared at the woman—the ghost—and tried to figure out what the heck to say.
“I’m supposed to, like, separate your soul from your body, then I’ll transport you to the afterlife,“
I told the woman.
She snorted. “No, thank you. I’d prefer if you helped find my murderer, then perhaps we can discuss the afterlife.”
She looked like a take-no-shit grandma, and I could already tell she was gonna be a problem. But I also thought she was going to be a fun sort of problem, because people like her usually were. You could just tell that she was the life of the party. Even dead, she had a charisma about her.
“Besides,“
she added, “there’s no body to separate me from, as you can see.”
“Yes. Ummm, what happened to it?” I asked.
She nodded over to the balcony, and I walked out onto it. Corbin and the ghost followed. I leaned over, and I could see, ever so faintly, the tiniest thread connecting the ghost to something way off in the distance behind the ship.
“Oh. You went overboard,“
I said. Then I took my scythe, and I cut through the thread to her body.
Yes, she wanted help finding her murderer, but I still had a job to do. The string was severed, and it floated out behind us as we continued to sail along the sea.
“Rude,“
the woman sniffed. “Now I’ve really lost my body, thank you very much.”
Corbin looked at me, raising his eyebrows. I shrugged. Yeah, I had no clue what to do.
It was a little bit delayed, but it was like severing the thread meant my reaper job was over, because suddenly Corbin and I were back in real time. Everything was vibrant and colorful, and it smelled of coconut and some perfume, because we were still in the woman’s stateroom.
The woman was still there as well.
“Can you see the woman?“
I asked Corbin.
“Of course he can see me,“
she answered. “And I’m not ‘the woman.’ My name is Margaret Anabeth Downing. Now, I’m afraid the suspect list won’t be short for my murder, so we’ll have quite a bit of digging to do.”
Corbin was staring at her, and he looked at me and nodded his head. Okay, so we could both still see her.
I did a double-take. “Wait, what? Why is the suspect list so long? You’re on a cruise ship. Surely you remember what happened before you were…”
“Pushed overboard,“
the woman finished. “Hit on the back of the head and then pushed overboard, if we’re going to be exact. I was sitting down, though, so I couldn’t tell you how much taller my attacker was. I had also spent a lot of time at the dance party, so I was a little bit tipsy, I’m afraid. It will make this harder.”
She smiled gleefully then. “Why, it’ll be just like Benoit Blanc. Or Sherlock Holmes, if you prefer. Or that woman, what was her name? The one from The Residence? Fantastic mystery, that one. And although this isn’t the white house, a cruise ship is an excellent place for a murder mystery.“
She started pacing, counting off on her fingers. “You’ll have a somewhat limited pool of suspects, as you stated, which is useful. What do detectives look for? Motive, opportunity, and means? The unfortunate part is that most of my family is on this trip, and most of them have motive. Opportunity isn’t any better. Everyone knew I was tipsy, and everyone knew I was in the room alone for the trip. I paid extra for a single. And as far as means, well, it doesn’t take much skill to hit me on the back of the head.”
Corbin hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, but they then threw you overboard, so they had to have some strength, at least. Although you’re a small woman, so most adults of some fitness could have managed it.”
“Ah, so I guess that rules out Robby, my nephew. He’s a little thing and couldn’t lift me if he tried.”
“He might have had help, though. If your whole family has a motive and they’re all here, maybe two of them teamed up.”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. Very true.”
I looked back and forth between Corbin and the woman. They both looked thoughtful, and I had a feeling that sitting on the pool deck and drinking margaritas might not be in my near future.
Oh, well.
A murder mystery did sound rather exciting, even if I was sad that Margaret was dead.
Which gave me pause, because… “Do you go by Margaret? Or should we call you Maggie?” I asked.
She smiled brightly—well, as brightly as a see-through woman could smile—and answered, “I go by Maggie to my closest friends, and since you two are going to help solve my murder, I think that applies. Don’t you?”
I nodded.
Corbin was looking around the room, not touching anything, and Crow flew in through the balcony door, which we’d left open.
“Oh, that’s lovely,“
Maggie said, clasping her hands together and smiling at the sight of Crow. “A paranormal investigation team complete with a crow. I can’t wait to tell all the ladies at brunch about this.”
“Umm…“
I started, because she wasn’t telling the ladies at brunch anything anytime soon.
She waved a hand at me. “We’re a diverse lot. We’ve had some deaths over the years. I’m sure there will be ladies at brunch in the afterlife as well.”
Well, I guess anything was possible. After all, I was talking to a ghost on a cruise ship.