He lunged at her from across the bed. She bolted for the door, but he caught her by the hair before she was halfway there. She kicked and yelled. They fell to the floor, grappling. Asher was much stronger than she was, but Harper managed to aim the pepper spray in his general direction, turned her head, and pushed the lever.
He cried out and reared back, coughing and squeezing his eyes shut.
Harper was also hacking and crying, having inhaled some of the irritant just by virtue of being in its vicinity. On all fours, she scrambled to the front door and managed to open it, but Asher grabbed her from behind and pulled her back inside.
Harper spun around and sprayed him again, this time directly in his face. He doubled over, gasping and coughing and retching, and she shoved him out the door and onto the landing. She tried to slam the door shut, but he pushed back, his fingers curled around the side of the door.
“Give it to me!”
“I’ll give it to you, all right,” Harper muttered, struggling to keep the door from opening farther. She spied the antique iron doorstop on the floor near the door, leaned over to grab it, and pounded his hand as hard as she could. He cried out, stumbled backward, and she heard a strangled scream followed by a god-awful clatter.
She cautiously peered out the door. Asher had tumbled down the wooden stairs and lay on his back on the wet ground, coughing and choking.
On the lawn, a white-haired woman was standing in the rain.
Isabel?Had the ghost visited her again?
But this woman wore a bright pink flannel nightie with turquoise flamingos and was pointing a gun at Asher.
“You okay, hon?” Ellen called out. “Thought I heard a commotion back here.”
Harper nodded. Still coughing, her eyes streaming with tears from the spray, she descended the slippery stairs carefully.
“Is he…?”
“He’s moaning a lot,” said Ellen, nudging him with her foot. “I suppose he’ll live. I called 911, the police are on their way. Did he hurt you?”
Harper shook her head and wiped her eyes. “I managed to spray myself along with him, and I’m a little scraped up, but I’m okay. Better than Asher, anyway.”
Asher, coughing and retching, let out a loud groan and reached for his knee. “My leg!”
“My word! Real sorry about that, Asher,” Ellen said, not sounding at all sorry. “But you reap what you sow.”
The police placed Asher Mason under arrest and took him for medical attention. After answering some questions, Harper went back to bed and was able to catch a little more sleep, though in the morning she was running late. She made herself coffee and braved the rain to fetch the newspaper. According to the lead article, the medical examiner had determined that although being stabbed and suffocated contributed to Delilah Mason’s death, ultimately what caused her demise was oleander poisoning, which left her semicomatose, and eventually sent her into cardiac arrythmia. The articleconcluded that Delilah’s boyfriend, Mario Lombardi, had been arrested for her murder.
Mario? That can’t be right, Harper thought. Mario seemed genuinely upset about what had happened to Delilah. Could he have been that ruthless?
True, Harper barely knew him. And solving a murder required figuring out, and being able to prove, motive and means and opportunity. Hunches and feelings weren’t enough. It didn’t help that Mario had admitted he had dug that grave under the Witch Tree. Or at least the hole thatbecamea grave.
Still.
Unfortunately, Harper was not free to look into it any more today.
She had classes to teach.
Harper ran into Gabe Ruiz in the faculty mail room. After exchanging small talk, and filling Gabe in on what had happened with Joel at the Perles Mansion, Harper asked him about that long-ago stage production that included Joel and Delilah.
“Harper, are you really asking me if anything happened during the production ofThe Importance of Being Earnestthat foretold that Delilah Mason and Joel Aristide would die gruesome deaths, years after the final curtain call?”
“Not after you put it that way,” Harper said.
Gabe laughed. “Wish I could help you out, but I just don’t see how the theater could be relevant. As far as I know, all the others in the play are still alive. Alastair Highbaugh is still with us, isn’t he?”
“So far, anyway.”
“I can tell you that onstage, Joel was a real ham but rather entertaining, and Delilah was surprisingly good; never forgot a line. And beautiful, of course. That always helps.” Gabe poured himself a cup of coffee and blew on the steam. “Now that I’m thinking about it, Joel had one odd run-in with the brother.”
“Asher?”
