Page 3 of Southernmost Murder
I put my hands on my hips. “No, I’m just drumming up new publicity!” I whispered back.
Adam crossed his huge, beefy arms.
“Sorry, sorry. It really freaked me out. I don’t know whether to ask for a cigarette or a Valium.”
“Youarepretty worked up,” he pointed out after a beat.
“Add a blowjob to my list of needs.”
“I can offer one of the three, but you’ll have to guess which.”
I shook my head and waved him off. “I’ve gone a full month without a cigarette. I don’t want to light up a few hours before Jun arrives.”
“I wasn’t offering a cigarette.” Adam smirked.
I laughed. “Watch it, dude.”
He stepped aside, no longer blocking my path. “A skeleton behind a false wall?”
I started walking toward the porch of the home. Herb was still passed out in his chair. “That’s right.”
“Was it old?”
“Hmm?”
Adam stopped walking. “I mean… did it have any…flesh?”
“No! That’s gross. It was old. All discolored and dusty.”
He glanced up, eyeing the third-floor windows. “Who the hell put him there?”
I shook my head. “No idea….”
“Think he was murdered?”
“Murdered?” I echoed, looking up at Adam. “Why would you assume that?”
“Someone went through the effort to hide the body,” he answered. “Who does that if the person died of natural causes?”
“I guess you have a point.” I caught Adam giving me a few nervous glances. “What?”
“I know it’s just local superstition—”
“No,” I interrupted. “Don’t say it.”
“But everyone says that the house is haunted!” Adam protested.
“No. Tess at Key Lime & Forever says that.” I motioned across the street at our dessert shop neighbor.
“Everyone does, Aubs,” Adam insisted. “All the locals say it’s Captain Smith.”
“Herb doesn’t,” I replied, pointing to the porch.
Adam rolled his eyes. “Herb also doesn’t believe in antibacterial soap.”
“Wait, what?”
“All I’m saying is—ifghosts were real, I’d have a reason to haunt this place, knowing my body was crammed into some wall for over a hundred years.”
