Page 64 of Gumbo, Ghosts, and Deadly Deception
I felt tears prick at my eyes. After forty years, Francine Darrow would finally be at peace.
"There's one more thing," Ginger said, reaching into her purse. She pulled out a tarot card. The Tower. "I found this in Arthur's room when I was searching it. I think it belonged to Delia."
I took the card, studying the familiar illustration. "She must have dropped it when she was confronting him. Then I found it later. Which meant he stole it back from me. I wonder why he bothered.”
“I never bother to try to figure out what motivates evil people. Otherwise I’d go nuts.” Hollis stood up. "We're going to need you to come back tomorrow to give formal statements. All of you. But for now, you should go home. Get some rest."
As we walked out of the police station into the New Orleans evening, I couldn't help but think about how different everything felt. The oppressive weight that had been hanging over Midnight House for the past week was finally gone.
"So," Maggie said as we reached our cars. "What now? Back to regular B&B life?"
"I guess so." I looked at Ginger. "What about you? Will you keep doing psychic work?"
"Oh yes. But I think I'll stick to helping people connect with their dearly departed loved ones instead of solving murders." She smiled. "Though I have to say, Harper, you have genuine intuitive gifts. If you ever want to explore that side of yourself..."
"I think I'll stick to hospitality and podcasts," I said quickly. "But thank you."
"The offer stands." Ginger hugged me goodbye, then Maggie. "Take care of yourselves. And Harper just know that your aunt would be proud."
That meant the world to me.
SIXTEEN
After Ginger left, Maggie and I stood in the parking lot for a moment, both of us still processing everything that had happened.
"You know what this means, right?" Maggie said eventually.
"What?"
"We're going to have to do a whole series of podcast episodes about this case. The listeners are going to lose their minds."
I laughed. The first genuine laugh I'd had in days. "Just promise me you won't call it 'Murder at Midnight House' or something equally embarrassing."
"Too late. I already bought the domain name."
After I dropped Maggie off at her place, I drove home through the familiar streets of the Marigny and thought about Delia DuMont and her final message to me. She'd trusted me to uncover the truth, and somehow, against all odds, I had.
The house looked different when I pulled into the driveway. Still grand, still mysterious, but no longer haunted by the weight of terrible secrets. The grandfather clock in the foyer would probably still keep the wrong time, and the lights would probably still flicker when storms rolled in from the Gulf. The air conditioning was definitely still going to test me.
But now I knew those were just the quirks of an old house, not the restless spirits of the unavenged dead.
Teddy was waiting for me in the kitchen, curled up in his favorite spot near the stove. He looked up when I entered and made a soft chittering sound that somehow managed to convey both relief and mild reproach.
"I know, I know," I said, scooping him up. "I should have taken you with me. You probably would have sniffed out Arthur's evil intentions from day one. But I’m glad you’re safe because you’re awesome."
I remembered Teddy scooting away when Arthur tried to pet him in the garden. Teddy had known what he’d done to him and Abigail.
He settled into my arms with a contented purr, and for the first time in a week, Midnight House felt like home again.
Tomorrow I'd have to figure out how to rebuild my guest bookings, how to market a haunted B&B that had recently hosted an actual murder, and how to move forward with the knowledge that my family's legacy was more complicated than I'd ever imagined.
But tonight, I was just grateful to be alive, surrounded by friends who cared about me, in a house that had helped me find the truth.
That feeling lasted only as long as it took me to walk into the hallway. Then I stopped in my tracks. I looked down at the hardwood floor of Midnight House, staring at something that shouldn't exist.
The Tower card lay on the grandfather clock's base, exactly where I'd found it the night Delia died. Same bent corner, same ominous illustration of the lightning-struck tower. But this time, when I flipped it over, there was new writing on the back.
Thank you.
