Chapter 4

If you've never owned a Class V haunted mansion, you won't know that it comes with all sorts of antiquated things like, say, separate entrances, stairways, and even dining rooms for the servants—a nice little classist leftover. Since I'd come to Hemlock House, I'd eaten almost all my meals in the servants' dining room. It was much cozier than the formal dining room—it was just the right size for all of us, with a well-worn table and chairs, and it had gingham curtains over windows that looked out on the sea cliffs.

Seated around said table, hot chocolate in hand, we tried to figure out where to start.

"Did you notice any shadowy figures?" Fox asked.

"I don't suppose you saw her ID?" Indira said.

"What did she look like?" Millie asked.

That seemed like the best starting point. "It was hard to tell because the lights were low. I'd say she was in her forties or fifties, but I might be wrong. She looked like she'd lived a rough life—I mean, like she'd lived most of her life outside. Sun damage, that kind of thing."

"Hair?" Indira asked.

"Short. Dark."

Fox frowned. "Build?"

"Well, she was lying down…" I tried to picture her in my mind. "Average height? Maybe a little taller—I don't know. Thin, though."

"What kind of clothes did she have?" Millie asked.

"A coat, jeans, boots. It all looked like it had been cheap to start with, and it was all pretty worn out."

"Did she look local?" Indira asked. "Had you seen her before?"

"I definitely hadn't seen her before. And…no. Now that you say that, she definitely didn't look local. I mean, she was wearing winter clothes, but she was tan—when was the last time someone in Oregon was tan?"

"1977," Fox said promptly. "There was a solar flare."

"But if she wasn't local," Millie said, "who was she?"

"That's the question." Indira ran her thumb along the handle of her mug. "Maybe the park will let us look at their security footage. If we can track her movements, maybe we can figure out who she was. Someone she talked to. Or a credit card charge, that kind of thing."

Keme snorted.

Indira let out a laugh that sounded a little scandalized. "Keme!"

Aloof, teenage indifference was hard when you were trying not to smile.

"Even if they won't let us look at their footage," Fox said, "we can still ask around. I mean, the story is going to spread at the park. And it's not that big. Someone will recognize Dash's description of this woman."

"All right," I said. "That's the plan. I'll see if I can sweet-talk Dagan into letting us look at the security footage, and you guys will talk to people around the park and try to find someone who recognizes that description and can tell us who that woman was." A thought had been stirring at the back of my head, and now I was starting to see the shape of it. "What if that's not the question?"

"What question?" Millie asked.

"Who she is. What if the question we need to answer isn't who she is, but why she disappeared?"

Fox and Indira shared a look. Keme rested his chin on one fist.

Millie made a sound like this was a mind-blowing question. But she spoiled it by asking, "But someone made the body disappear because they didn't want to get caught, right? And anyway, don't we still need to know who she is?"

"Kind of what I was wondering," Fox said drily.

"I mean, yes," I said, "we need to know who she is. And yes, maybe someone moved the body to keep from getting caught. But what if it were something else? I mean, it was such a strange place for me to find her. Why kill someone in a fun house? Why leave her there and then move her after someone found her?"

"I don't suppose you could tell how she, er, expired," Fox said.

I shook my head.

After a moment of silence, Fox continued, "All right. Well, if this were one of Vivienne's mystery novels, it might be a way of gaslighting someone. The killer would want them to find the body, but then they'd move the body to make that person start doubting their sanity. Of course, there would be simpler ways of gaslighting you."

"Please don't explain how."

"I'd buy one of those candles that smell like cookies, and I'd set the oven timer to go off, and then when you came downstairs, no cookies."

"You're a master of manip—"

"Oh!" Millie said. "Or I could say, ‘Wow, Bobby, you're so sweaty from that run. You should get a towel instead of taking off your shirt to wipe your face.'"

I gave her my Level 10 glare.

"One time," Keme said, "he tripped over the rug when Bobby was stretching."

"That's not even an example of gaslighting!"

Keme shrugged.

"Not to mention," Fox said, "nobody would want to gaslight you."

"Again, please don't—"

"I mean, why would they? What would they want from you? What could anyone ever possibly want from you?"

I cranked my glare up to Level 11.

In a slightly too sweet voice, Fox added, "I meant that in a good way."

"What possible ‘good way' is there?"

"You're not materialistic, dear," Indira said. "If this were one of Pippi's books, by the way, the body disappearing might be an accident."

"How does a body disappear by accident?"

"Well, one time, the body was inside a crate, and the crate got loaded into a shipping container, and the body was accidentally gone. That was the whole point, you understand—it ruined the killer's plan because the killer needed the body to be found. For the insurance money, I believe."

"Okay," I said slowly. "I'm not sure how someone could accidentally move the body in this case, but I take your point. Maybe the killer didn't do it. Maybe someone else did. Maybe the fact that the body disappeared is actually a problem for the killer."

"Like the case of the missing cookies," Fox said, which made Millie and Keme dissolve into giggles. Even Indira looked like she was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

I tried to scowl. "I'm going to bed. I don't have to sit here and take this abuse."

"Of course you do," Fox said.

Indira tutted (yes, really). "Stop teasing him."

"It's good for him. He had a horrible night; this takes his mind off it."

"He likes it," Keme said.

"I do not—"

"Plus," Millie said, "we only do it because we love you."

With friends like these, you know?