Treachery on Tap Read online

  Denise went to work and I watched as the crew leapt into action. To be honest, I was most impressed with how boring it all was. Lots of waiting around and the cameras did not roll very much. It was lots of preparation for a few minutes of footage. And just like that, the first night was over, so I went upstairs to join Dad in the apartment and get some sleep.

  BUSINESS THE SECOND day with the big truck parked out front went the same as the first. People lined up and we even needed to ask Piper and Ida to pitch in to work tables. Guardrail again worked the line out front while Dog Breath and Digger helped Bones in the kitchen. The boys had surrendered their prized bar stools, well rented them to be accurate. And Dad needed to work the bar with Dixie, a rare site. Apparently, people really want to be part of this three ring circus.

  Lily and Edith held court at their regular table telling their tale a dozen times to anyone who would listen. When I passed their table, I heard the two elderly sisters describing their not so harrowing story of how they directed traffic out on Main Street, while cops captured a murderer. It was welcome background noise and kind of funny to listen to them talk about riding on the back of Dog and Guardrail’s motorcycles. We had bonded as a team when we recently chased down the murder suspects together. So it was fitting to have the whole gang present during the television shoot to let off some steam together. And yes, two seventy year old spinsters who direct traffic and ride shotgun on motorcycles are part of our team.

  Myself, I was a bit nervous. Last night was the first time I witnessed a television show being made and I wished it was not inside the pub. I was surprised with how many people were needed to make it happen. The Grumpy Chicken felt small all day with the large crowds, but after closing at eleven o’clock p.m. we were still crowded. We simply swapped our customers for a television crew. And then it was time to shoot a television series again.

  The show made arrangements with Dad and me ahead of time. One of the things we asked for was a place to watch for Dad, Guardrail, Dog Breath, Digger, Edith, Lily, Piper, Ida, Dixie, Bones, and last but not least, me. The show went first class and had those special folding director chairs waiting for us all. Printed in bright white letters, the black cloth backs to the chairs declared “The Ghost Hounds.” We were all giddy with the special treatment and we took our special access seats. Guardrail boomed. “It’s show time.”

  “Hush. Come on now, they’re getting ready to shoot.” I didn’t know if that was true. I looked over to Denise to see if they were in fact close to starting. But I saw her huddled with Zach. They whispered for a short time and then she handed him a small vial.

  Stan, the director, then took center stage, which in this case was in my kitchen, right in front of the new, but now damaged whiteboard just outside my office. He raised his voice so all could hear. “Alright! Let’s settle. This is a simple shot in front of this whiteboard. Zach and Tyler will discuss the weird writing and damage that was reported to appear on it last week. Cecil will examine the slight dent that is still there and write on the board trying to recreate or cause something to happen. Then we do some quick EMF and infrared tests to see if there are signs of the supernatural. Real simple, straightforward shot. Let’s get it done.” He clapped, and so did everyone else. I thought it was kind of odd they clapped for themselves, but it was obviously their sign to get to work.

  Zach, Cecil, and Tyler took up position in front of the cameras at the whiteboard. The director yelled action, and then they did pretty much what the director said. At one point, the scene focused on Cecil showing the shallow dent in the whiteboard and he wrote something on it. I saw Zach, who was now out of the shot, take out the vile Denise gave him and turn his back to us.

  A few moments later, the camera came back to Zach and things took a bizarre turn. A bright orange foam started to ooze from his mouth and nose. Then he grabbed at his throat, screaming, “The chicken ghost has me. It is trying to com...mun...icate with me. The chick... ach.. aaaaaaa...” The sounds eventually stopped and his face turned blue. After a few minutes of people trying to help him by patting him on the back, he fell to the floor.

  Denise dropped her boom microphone and moved quickly to Zach. She scolded him. “Alright. That’s enough Zach. Get up. You’ve had your fun.” Tyler and Cecil had stepped aside and ignored the scene, seemingly not surprised by an apparent prank. But Zach didn't move. Denise continued. “Come on you ham. That’s enough.”

  Tyler suddenly realized something was wrong. He rushed over to Zach and got down on his knees next to his incapacitated co-host. He felt for a pulse and then screamed. “Call nine one one.” Tyler started CPR and tried to perform mouth to mouth resuscitation. To everyone’s horror. Tyler was also using his index finger, digging something out of Zach’s mouth. Five minutes of terror passed while we waited for the ambulance and watched Tyler continue to work on Zach. As the medics arrived and started to administer care, Tyler stood and stepped aside to let them do their job. Then he looked over to the director and said, “I think he’s dead.”

  Denise started to cry. “It was harmless seltzer with food coloring. It was safe, how could it hurt him?” She sobbed a little, then went on. “He had to do a prank that looked real. The fool, he always had to do a stinking prank.”

  Tyler went to her and gave her a hug. “That foam in his mouth is solid. I was trying to dig something solid out of his mouth. That wasn’t seltzer powder.”

  Denise looked at Tyler stunned. “I know it was seltzer. I filled the vial myself. And Zach and I kept the prank a secret. How could seltzer and food coloring turn solid and kill him?”

  I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Now that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? I think we need to call the police. And we need to leave this area alone. This may now be a crime scene.” I took out my cell phone and called the Sheriff. I knew this drill. Unfortunately, it was the second time in a week I called in a dead body to the Potter’s Mill police.

  Chapter Three

  I called Sheriff Kelly Morrison on his cell phone. He answered after one ring. “Hello, Sheriff. This is Ginger.”

  “I saw your number so I knew it was you. What’s so important you have to call me directly this late? The pub been invaded by Martians?” He chuckled a little at the thought.

  “I can’t believe I have to call this in to you, but we have a dead TV host lying on the kitchen floor here at the Chicken.”

  The Sheriff was silent for a moment, then responded. “If this is a joke... Did Deputy Wise put you up to this?”

  “No. I wish I didn’t have to make this call, but a show host just choked on some orange gunk, turned blue, and fell dead on my floor.”

  “Twice in one week you find a dead body? What the heck is going on?”

  “Actually, I didn’t find the body this time. But I saw him choke to death in front of me.”

  “I’ll be right there. Keep everyone away from the crime scene till I get there.”

  “Will do. I know the drill.” I heard the phone click off.

  I turned to the director. “The Sheriff says we need to keep everyone away from the scene and that he will be here in a few minutes.”

  After a couple of minutes, I heard the siren a ways down Main Street. It’s wail continued to grow louder for the next couple of minutes until it was right out front of The Grumpy Chicken. Dad unlocked the front entrance to let Sheriff Morrison in and he came running in through the open door into the dining room.

  The Sheriff addressed a medic near the entrance as he came in. “What’s the status?”

  The medic looked at him with a blank face. “You serious? He’s dead. Go see for yourself.” The medic pointed to the swinging door and the Sheriff strode over to the kitchen entrance. He went in to view the body on the ground, which was now covered with a white table cloth.

  Kelly shook his head no. “Not again.” Then he moved to the crime scene and began isolating the area, all the while looking for clues.

  Deputy Mae Owens and Deputy Leonard Wise
showed up shortly after the Sheriff. They corralled everyone into the dining room, out of the kitchen, which was now a potential crime scene. They sprinkled us around the dining area to separate and prevent us from talking to each other. The number of people present when Zach choked was large and the police had their work cut out for them.

  The Sheriff took one of the dining tables and set it off to one side of the room, isolating it. Then he started bringing people over individually to interview them. He began the interviews with Denise Anderson, the girl who handed Zach Black the vial of powder. It seemed like a logical place to start. Deputy Wise and Owens finished roping off the kitchen area where Zach choked and then they looked for evidence.

  As far as I could see, the list of clues was short. But I did know Zach and Tyler argued, which Scooter indicated happened often. Denise gave Zach the vial of powder. I also saw Zach take the vial out and it appeared that he snorted it, but his back was to us so I didn't actually see it inhaled. However, it was likely he did. Then the weird orange foam appeared and a few minutes or so after that his face started to turn blue. But that was the extent of the evidence I could see. This was nothing like the murder scene I observed last week.

  With so many people in the pub, I would never believe it could be so quiet. But it was. Edith finally broke the silence and said. “Dear, I was glad when you invited us to this and it was one heck of a show, for sure. But now I’m not so certain we want to be here.”

  I sighed a little. “I’m sorry, Edith. But I don’t think you can leave. The Sheriff made it clear he wants to speak with everyone that saw the incident. And that includes us.”

  Lily pouted. “Oh pish posh. Why can’t we leave? We’re two old ladies that were just sitting here minding our own business.”

  “I know. But it’s what the police have to do. We just have to wait.”

  Deputy Owens, my Aunt Mae, let us talk a little then said, “I’m really sorry, but it would be best if you didn’t talk right now. You know, to let the Sheriff do his job.”

  I knew the police didn't want us to talk until they debriefed everyone. So we waited – in silence. At about four o'clock in the morning, the Sheriff had completed interviews with Tyler, Cecil, Denise, the director Stan, Scooter the cameraman, and two other television crew members that had direct contact with Zach. I figured out that Sheriff Kelly was interviewing in a particular order, starting with those most likely to have access to the vial of powder down to those not probable. It was smart and he had completed interviews with the most likely suspects based on access to the powder.

  After that, the Sheriff rose to address the mass of people waiting in my dining room. “Thank you everyone for your patience. I think we’re done for tonight and I am going to let you go back to The Fluffy Pillow and get some sleep. But I’m afraid I have to ask you to not leave town for now and avoid discussing this with anyone, even among yourselves. I still have interviews to complete with your crew, and details and statements to corroborate. In effect, you are being placed under house arrest. I need to ask you to remain in the B&B for now.” I guess the Sheriff decided the unlikely suspects could wait and he was tired.

  The crew replied in unison. “Ahhh.”

  Kelly shied back a little. “I know. But it looks like we had a terrible accident – or maybe even a suicide or murder. I need to be able to interview everyone and confirm the information I gather before I can let you leave. Deputy Wise has been booked into The Fluffy Pillow with you and he will be there to make sure you comply with our request.”

  Deputy Owens and Deputy Wise were now in the kitchen. They had another crime scene to investigate and were not about to let anyone contaminate it or mess with any clues. Meanwhile, The Ghost Hounds crew and staff headed out of The Grumpy Chicken to make the short walk over to The Fluffy Pillow.

  AFTER ONLY A COUPLE of hours sleep, the Sheriff was up and back to it at nine a.m.. He made his way over to The Fluffy Pillow and I watched him set up an area within the bed and breakfast lobby to complete his interviews. Since we were witnesses that also needed to be questioned, the gang and I were there waiting as requested by Sheriff Morrison.

  As his second interview of the morning started, Cecil, the slightly pudgy and clumsy co-host, barged into the questioning of a teleprompter operator and started rambling. “Why are you focusing on us? That pub owner, Tom, set this all up. He’s the one who brought us out here to chase that ridiculous story about a ghost chicken. Plus we paid him good money for the rights to shoot there. Now he stands to make out since his bar is the place where Zach died. Every fan of the show will flock to his place now. The pub owner is the only one to profit from all this. He’s the one you should be talking to.”

  The Sheriff kept his cool and responded, “What’s your name again?”

  “Cecil.”

  Sheriff Morrison stood and went eyeball to eyeball with Cecil. “Yeah, that’s right, I remember now. Cecil, I have a job to do in order to figure out if all this was a horrible accident or not. If not, then it’s possible Zach committed suicide or maybe someone murdered him. I know it seems inconvenient to you, but I’m trying to make sure we do our job so that in case it isn’t an accident, we find the person responsible for your co-host’s death. I would think you would want that too and a little patience is not much to ask in order to help us.”

  Cecil just stared back in response. He then repeated, “You need to interview the pub owner too!” Then he stormed back to his room.

  I spoke to the Sheriff. “It seems lack of sleep and a bizarre murder are too much for a ghost hunter.”

  The Sheriff looked over to me sideways. “Who said it was a murder. It’s a potential murder. There’s a difference.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have said bizarre death.” I knew how serious the Sheriff was with this type of work and I was actually a little embarrassed for choosing my words poorly.

  And then in an incredible example of bad timing, my father came sauntering into the B&B to join us. Seems Cecil would get his request. Tom O’Mallory was on the list of people to interview. Everyone stared at my father when he entered, causing him to stop. He looked around then said to no one in particular, “What?”

  I patted a seat next to me and replied. “Dad, come sit here with me. I need to talk to you.”

  Dad mumbled something I couldn’t understand and he took the seat. I put my arm around him. “The Sheriff is going to ask you some questions. You need to answer them and not be difficult. Dad, it’s important to be honest and not say more than you have to.”

  “Sweetie, why in the world are you telling me this? I know how to talk with the Sheriff.”

  I smiled at Dad, trying to not let him see I was concerned. “It’s complicated. One of the hosts, Cecil, just told the Sheriff you might be someone of interest. You know, since you arranged for them to come out here and shoot.”

  Dad just folded his arms and snorted. I could see he was mulling over what I'd just told him.

  Chapter Four

  It was now mid-afternoon and after the interviews were done, I asked the gang to assemble back at the chicken. I was concerned Cecil called out my father and made some not so veiled accusations. As I waited in my office for the gang to arrive, Ida strolled into the office and took her seat, well actually it was my seat, behind the desk. Piper came in not far behind her and sat on one of the two pub chairs I keep in the office.

  I asked, “Is everyone else coming?”

  Piper answered, “Yep, they just wanted to freshen up or get something to eat or drink first. It was a long drawn out interview process and everyone is tired but they should be here in a few minutes.”

  “In the meantime, I did want to talk with the two of you alone. Dad was mentioned to the Sheriff by Cecil as a potential suspect because he made the arrangements with the producers and was paid. Also, my kitchen is shut down because a large portion of it may be a crime scene. So I think the best way to help Dad and get my kitchen back is to find out who really did this, fast! For
now, let’s leave the hack shack set up in my office here, to investigate the death of Zach Black.”

  Ida looked a little surprised. “Sure, it’s more fun to work here with everyone. And it's already up and running.”

  Piper added, “The gang is back in action?”

  Ida said, “Team PMF that is!”

  Both Piper and me moaned. “Nooo! That sounds awful.”

  The door was open and Dixie wandered in. “So what’s new?”

  Ida was quickest to respond. “We’re back in the investigation business. We need to help figure this latest incident out to help Tom and get your kitchen back.”

  Dixie made an odd whistling noise. “Bull shots! That’s a stretch. There is no way Tom had anything to do with this. And I would like to have the kitchen back, customers drink more when they have hot food to eat.”

  I grinned. “That’s one of your better non-curse swear word inventions. Our swear jar is going to be hard to fill if you keep that up. And yes it is a real stretch to accuse Dad, but he is not going to help things with his charming personality. And I need my kitchen open to make ends meet. So it’s best if we help figure out who did it, fast.” I spun to face the desk and my tone may have been a tad sarcastic. “And Ida, thanks for being so understanding about how I wanted to talk to you alone so no one else would know what we’re up to.”

  Ida stared at me like I caught her with a hand in the cash register. “What? I just assumed everyone would know about it. Lots of other people heard Cecil down at The Fluffy Pillow and everybody knows your kitchen is closed and that you'll want it back.”

  Dixie cleared her throat. “Well, that’s actually why I’m here. Beth is out in the bar talking about it.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I better go see what nonsense Beth is spreading. Son of a muddler! I don’t need this now.” Beth is our resident gossip monger. She's like radar...she can spot tales of slander a mile away. The doorway then darkened. It was the big frame of Guardrail, closely followed by Dog Breath and Digger.