Page 18 of Gumbo, Ghosts, and Deadly Deception
"Morning," he said, helping himself to a cup of coffee from my pot without asking. After living two doors down from me for six months, he'd apparently decided my kitchen was an extension of his own. "We finished processing the scene upstairs last night. You can have the room back. If you have any new guests arriving today it won’t be an issue."
"What did you find in Delia’s room?" I asked.
"Officially? Accident or suicide. Assuming she drowned. The coroner's preliminary examination shows no signs of trauma, no defensive wounds, no evidence of struggle." He paused, studying my face. "Unofficially? There are a few things that don't quite add up."
Maggie leaned forward. "Such as?"
"The water temperature. The tub was filled with scalding hot water. It was hot enough to cause unconsciousness within minutes if someone slipped and couldn't get out. But there's no way she could have drawn a bath that hot without noticing or gotten into it after it was full."
"Maybe she got in first and then filled it up?" I suggested. “The boiling frog theory?”
"Maybe. But there's something else." Hollis pulled out his phone and showed us a photo of Delia's room. "See anything unusual?"
I studied the image. The purple dress laid out on the bed, jewelry arranged on the dresser, shoes by the door. I shuddered, remembering when we had first seen it like that, we hadn’t known she was dead yet. "It looks like she undressed very carefully. Almost ritualistically."
"Exactly. People don't usually fold their clothes and arrange their jewelry before accidentally drowning in their bathtub. This aligns more with suicide, but in my experience women don’t generally get undressed before they take their own life, even in the tub."
My hand was shaking a little. I attributed it to the excessive caffeine but that probably wasn’t the only reason. “That seems accurate. Most people wouldn’t want to be found like that.”
“Naked women always make me suspicious,” he said.
I couldn’t help myself. I snickered a little.
Hollis drilled me with a hard stare. “A little maturity would be helpful.”
“Humor helps in stressful situations,” I pointed out. “You should try it.”
"Maybe she was preparing for a ritual bath," Maggie said thoughtfully. "Some spiritual practices involve cleansing ceremonies before contacting the dead."
Hollis and I both looked at her.
"What?" she said, shrugging. "I research weird stuff for the podcast. I know things."
"So you think she was trying to conduct another séance?" I asked. "By herself? Why would she leave one séance to conduct another?"
"Or someone wanted it to look that way," Hollis said grimly. "There's one more thing. We found traces of a powder in the bathroom. Not sure what it is yet."
My stomach dropped. "Drugs?”
He shrugged. "Gotta wait on toxicology results."
I pulled Delia's letter out of my pocket and handed it to him. "You need to see this. I found it in the kitchen last night after you left."
Hollis started to read the letter. As soon as he realized what it was, he swore and moved his fingers to the very edges of the paper. “Jesus, Harper, you could have warned me this was written by Delia. Neither of us should be touching this with bare hands.”
“Oops.” I mean, what else could I say? He was right.
His expression grew increasingly grim. "When exactly did you find this?"
"Around midnight. Right after you finished questioning everyone."
"And you didn't think to call me immediately?"
"I was going to, and to tell you I found Delia’s phone..." I trailed off as Hollis's expression darkened.
It occurred to me that I shouldn’t have taken Delia’s phone. Or mentioned that to Hollis. That possibly could be considered tampering with evidence.
“You touched her phone?” His expression was thunderous.
