Page 51 of A Spell of Midlife Mayhem

His expression changed. ‘Are you for real? Or are you making fun of me?’

A creeping wave of embarrassment came over me. I’d really blundered here. Elvis wasn’t a ghost. He wasn’t the real Elvis at all—only someone dressed like him for some reason of their own. ‘No, I’d never do that. I’m sorry. I mistook you for another person.’

‘Yeah, right. You sound a little crazy to me, lady. You’re cute, though.’ He eyed me appreciatively.

My heart thudded at those remarks, but I had to be polite in my role as a house guide. ‘Have a pleasant visit.’

I went downstairs, my cheeks burning. I shouldn’t leave visitors unattended, but Melissa was up there somewhere. She would monitor them. I went to the office and sat for five minutes to regain my composure. The office had a small kitchenette, and I made a cup of coffee. I needed it.

But before I could drink it, all hell broke loose.

Chapter 18

I HURRIED BACK UPSTAIRS. In my mind, anyway. My hurrying was more of a slow trot across the entrance hall and a climbing expedition up the staircase. But at this rate, I would soon get fit, just like Lydia said.

A woman was screaming. It wouldn’t be Melissa, and Penny and Lydia were behind me, bounding onto the lower stairs. It must be the American visitor screaming.

A man with an American accent called for help. Was it the couple from the earl’s bedroom? Had the woman fallen and hurt herself?

I reached the landing and paused to catch my breath, but I wasn’t given a chance. Penny and Lydia grabbed me as they went past on either side and swept me along with them.

Melissa stood ahead of us, staring through the door of the library. The couple stood next to her. The woman was crying and being comforted by her husband. She didn’t appear hurt.

Whatever had happened had taken place in the library. Where Ronald Morris was working on his notes. Why hadn’t he come out to see what the commotion was?

Melissa turned to us, her face grave. ‘We have to call an ambulance. And the police. It’s Mr Morris.’ She groaned. ‘I can’t call. My phone’s out of charge.’

Lydia glanced inside, gasped and raised a hand to cover her mouth. She tried to stop Penny and me from entering, but I slipped past and stepped inside, pulling my phone from my pocket.

Mr Morris lay on the floor, half hidden by the desk. Blood seeped from his head. A heavy silver candlestick lay on the floor next to him.

I moved closer, careful to avoid disturbing anything, and reached out. My fingertips pressed on his neck.

No pulse.

I dialled the emergency services. ‘Hello? Police and ambulance, please. Chirtlewood House. A man is dead.’ My voice shook. Poor Ronald’s glassy eyes stared back at me. Lydia came up next to me and put her arm around my shoulder in support.

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