Tightrope (Burning Cove #3)(61)

THRILLS AND CHILLS AND COOKIES PROMISED

ON NEW TOUR AT HIDDEN BEACH INN.

Amalie read through the short article and smiled with satisfaction. “They got the time of the tour right and also the fact that employees of local establishments get in free.”

“Why did you offer free tours to the locals?” Jasper asked.

Willa chuckled. “Are you kidding? The best form of advertising is word of mouth. The goal is to make sure every waitress, gardener, maid, handyman, and clerk in town recommends the Psychic Curse Mansion tour to visitors and tourists.”

“I get it,” Jasper said. He put down his fork, looking curious. “What are you going to tell visitors about this place?”

Willa put her mug on the counter and rubbed her palms together. “We will tell them a very good ghost story. Everyone loves ghost stories.”

Amalie smiled at Jasper. “That’s what the audience wants, you see. A good story. Willa and Hazel are going to work on the script and stage the scenes this morning.”

“The tour will start with Madam Zolanda’s bedroom,” Willa said. Her voice darkened to a suitably ominous tone. “People will see the psychic’s scarves and clothes draped across her bed, just as she left them on the night she died.”

Jasper’s brow wrinkled. “How do you know her things were draped on her bed that night?”

“That’s not important,” Willa said. “This is about setting the scene. After we tour Zolanda’s bedroom, we’ll take visitors down the hall to Dr. Pickwell’s room. It, too, will be just as he left it on the fateful night he went to the Palace to give the robot demonstration.”

“We’ll describe the scene onstage when Pickwell was murdered by his own creation,” Hazel added. “And we’ll quote Pickwell’s dying words. ‘The creature turned on me. I should have known better than to play Frankenstein.’”

Jasper stared at her. “Did Pickwell really say that?”

“It was in the paper,” Hazel assured him.

Jasper nodded and picked up his coffee. “Must be true, then. What’s the next stop on the tour?”

“The roof,” Willa said. “People will want to see where Zolanda was when she jumped.”

“No one goes up onto the roof,” Amalie said. “We can’t afford to take the risk. It’s dangerous up there. Someone might get too close to the edge. We don’t need another mysterious death associated with the Psychic Curse Mansion.”

Matthias looked at her, eyes narrowed. “I agree.”

Willa was appalled. “We have to show people the roof.”

Amalie carried her empty mug to the sink. “You can get just as much out of the story if you show visitors the patio where the body was found.”

Hazel sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Last stop on the tour will be the bedroom where legendary actor Vincent Hyde slept,” Willa continued.

Jasper chuckled. “Mr. Hyde will love that.”

“We’ll put a star on the door, of course, and at every point along the way we will point out the luxurious furnishings and the first-rate accommodations that are provided to guests here at the Hidden Beach Inn,” Hazel said. “The tour will conclude with tea and shortbread cookies.”

Jasper smiled at Willa. “I think you could sell them on this fine establishment with the shortbread alone.”

Willa blushed. “Thank you.”

Hazel started to say something but the phone on the front desk rang again, interrupting her.

“Probably another reservation for the tour,” she said.

She turned and hurried away to take the call.

“Call me psychic,” Matthias said, “but I’m getting an eerie message from another dimension that tells me the Hidden Beach will be giving away a lot of free shortbread cookies this afternoon.”

“The plan will work,” Amalie said. “It has to work.”

Hazel rushed back into the kitchen.

“We’ve got five more reservations and this was just delivered on the front step,” she said. She held up a copy of Hollywood Whispers.

The headline was in a very large font. Amalie had no trouble reading it from the far side of the big kitchen. She groaned.

Willa read it aloud. “Mobster’s Gun Moll Promises Tours of Psychic Curse Mansion.”

Matthias looked at Amalie. “Evidently you forgot to tell Lorraine Pierce that you’d prefer not to be called a gun moll.”

“Don’t worry,” Willa said. “That headline will be great for business.”

Amalie winced. “What makes you think so?”

“People are fascinated by mobsters because of all the movies about them,” Willa said. “And we’ve got our very own celebrity mobster staying right here at the Hidden Beach.”

Hazel brightened. “You’re right. We need to add Mr. Jones’s room to the tour. It would be perfect if we could arrange to have his gun sitting on top of the dresser.”

Matthias choked on his coffee.

The phone rang again.





Chapter 40


“Here you go, Jones,” Chester Ward announced. “Far as I can tell, this little box is the one thing that doesn’t look like it came from a hardware store or a junkyard.”