Free Death by Haunting by Abigail Keam

the Pink Panther theme song.
    I pulled out two small paintings from Jean Louis’ collection and began photographing them from all angles. Then I turned the paintings over and photographed the backs and sides of the canvases in detail. With a small knife, I scraped off a few flakes of paint and cut a tiny piece of canvas from each painting, putting the scrapes into little plastic tubes that florists use to water cut flowers. Placing the paintings back exactly as I found them, I began photographing a larger canvas when I heard the Bentley.
    I shot a glance at the clock. Only an hour had passed since I entered the library. It was too early for them to be home. But the smooth purr of the Bentley was unmistakable.
    My heart was pounding as I put the painting back. I stuck the tubes behind some books and the camera in my pants pocket before I turned off the light and locked the library door.
    The back door opened and I heard June say, “I didn’t see a light on in the library. Are you sure you had turned it off?”
    Oh crap!
    Crossing the hallway I rushed into the formal parlor and made my way in the dark to the dining room and then to hallway of the west wing as heavy footsteps sounded on the marble hallway going in the opposite direction from me. I turned left and found the servants’ staircase and bounded up as fast as I could. It’s funny how adrenaline can really give a person that extra energy to get her caboose going.
    “Darn it. There’s something wrong with the elevator,” June uttered in consternation. “Jean Louis, can you go upstairs and see what the matter is. Maybe it’s stuck.”
    The echo of Jean Louis bounding up the staircase gave me chills. How could that fat pudgy elf move so quickly?
    I would never make it to my room in time. Shouldering a wall, I melted in with the shadows and kept moving until I felt a doorknob. I gave it a turn until the door opened. Silently I entered an empty bedroom and kept the door open just enough to see down the hallway toward the elevator.
    I watched Jean Louis surreptitiously glance down both hallways before stepping into the elevator. “Here’s the problem,” he called out. “The ON switch has been turned off.” After a few seconds, the elevator returned to life. It began to descend to the ground floor.
    “I bet Josiah turned it off accidentally,” June yelled up the staircase.
    Seeing my chance, I stepped out from the guestroom and turned on the hall lights. Leaning over the balustrade I blurted, “Someone say my name?”
    The elevator reached the ground floor with a shudder as Jean Louis stepped out. Both he and June looked up.
    “The elevator wasn’t working,” accused June.
    “It seems to be working now. You guys are home early.”
    “Jean Louis started feeling ill, so we came home.”
    “Did you happen to be in the library a few moments ago?” asked Jean Louis. “I thought I saw a light coming from the room as we drove up.”
    “Nope. Was in my room reading when I heard the car. Are you feeling better, Jean Louis? You don’t seem ill.”
    Waving his hands with a theatrical flourish, Jean Louis replied, “A mild headache. Nothing to worry about.”
    “I’m not worried, Jean Louis.”
    Jean Louis’ eyes narrowed.
    I motioned to June. “If Jean Louis has a headache, he will surely want to go to his guesthouse. Come on up, June. You can tell me all about the party.”
    June bid Jean Louis good night as he kissed her gloved hand. She beamed with pleasure.
    Jean Louis gave me another spiteful glance before taking his leave.
    I threw him a kiss.
    He blanched.
    Gee, if looks could kill.
    I seemed to have a knack for pissing him off.
    I guess it was a gift.

25
    A fter listening to June chatter for over an hour about the dinner party, I finally got her to bed.
    I was worn out. Glad to get to bed myself, I hurried down the hallway to my room.
    I should have been alert. I really should have. I really, really should have. But I felt safe.
    The lights were