Page 54 of Gumbo, Ghosts, and Deadly Deception
“I really need to figure out what’s going on with my front door,” I told him, going straight for a mug out of the cupboard. “It doesn’t seem to keep anyone out.”
“Abigail let me in. She’s here to get her stuff.”
That makes me pause. “Is she doing okay? God, what do I even say to the poor girl?”
“She’s remarkably plucky.”
Plucky? If it wasn’t for the fact that Abigail had been locked in my attic storage room I would be annoyed by that word. As it was, I couldn’t even call him out because Abigail was indeed, plucky.
“Can you tell me anything about the investigation?”
“No. But I can tell you that you need to get better security cameras installed on the property. Inside and out.”
“With what money? I’m fresh out of guests because they keep getting murdered and abducted.” That sounded way more mean-spirited than I intended. I sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just stressed. But I also worry people won’t like having cameras pointed on them all the time. It seems rude.”
I took a huge gulp of coffee and burned the roof of my mouth.
“I just want to follow up on a few details with you.”
I also suspected he was checking to make sure I hadn't done anything else monumentally stupid overnight.
“Of course.” I glanced toward the hallway. “Should I go talk to Abigail?” I bit my fingernail nervously. “I really don’t know what to say to her.”
“I already talked to her. I told her to pop in here before she heads to the airport.”
I wondered if I should offer to pay for her flight being changed from yesterday to today. I really should. I felt responsible for what had happened to her in my house, even if I couldn’t have anticipated her…incident.
"Whoever did this wore gloves. Professional job."
"Professional?" That made my stomach clench. "You mean like a hired burglar?"
"Or someone who's done this before." Hollis set down his coffee. "Harper, I need you to be completely honest with me. Is there anything else you haven't told me? Any other secrets your aunt might have left behind?"
I thought about Aunt Odette's journal entries, currently hidden in my bedroom closet. About the map and all the files on the Pelican Group. About my conversation with Lucien/Lena at the Dungeon.
“I found a key in the wall the other day. But nothing that would help catch whoever did this," I said, which was technically true. “I don’t even know what it opens.”
Hollis gave me a look that suggested he didn't believe me. "What about Delia's phone? It was recording that night. Did you listen to the whole thing?"
Actually, I had sent the recording to myself before turning the phone over to the crime scene tech. But I was pretty sure admitting that would get me in more trouble than I was already in.
"There wasn't much to hear. Just static and that voice memo where she said someone was there." I tried to keep my voice casual. "Why? Was there something else on it?"
"I can’t share that. That's part of an ongoing investigation."
It was honestly a mystery to me what the police deemed shareable and what they chose to keep under lock and key. It felt ridiculously random to me. Considering all the research Maggie and I had done for our podcast, police could be very random in general. Arguing with him had its risks, though.
"Someone broke into my house. I have a right to know if it's connected to Delia's murder."
He was quiet for a moment, studying my face. "There were other recordings. Calls she made before she died."
My pulse quickened. "To who?"
"We're still trying to figure that out. The number was a burner phone, probably ditched right after she died." Hollis leaned back in his chair. “Do you know who the inside man is?”
My mind went blank. Then it flooded with several juvenile thoughts I chose not to share. “Inside man to what? The Pelican Group?”
“The Pelican Group? What? No.” Hollis frowned. “Never mind.”
