Hexes and Holly: A Paranormal Cozy Mystery Holiday Anthology

by Tegan Maher

  "Sure do. They called it glee-ow-bla-stow-muh." Connor pronounced each syllable individually.

  "Glioblastoma," I repeated. Brain cancer. I swallowed hard, feeling awful that I hadn't known. Suddenly Connor's erratic behavior made sense. The poor man must have had an aneurysm or something and died at the tree lot, leaving his ghost to scare the boy scouts.

  "At least now I don't have to pay my electric bill," Connor said with a smile on his face. "It was real high this month too."

  "Well, that's one way to look at it," I smiled back. Connor wasn't upset at all about dying, which made me wonder what he was still doing here. "You know Connor, you don't have to sit around here. I have it on good authority that heaven is real and waiting for you to go on up." I pointed at Ellen's ceiling.

  "I wanna get rid of the bad ghost first," Connor rocked back on his heels.

  "Bad ghost?" Nick asked.

  "The one that scared me real good. Made it so my heart quit working."

  "A ghost gave you a heart attack? You mean you're not the one who scared the boy scouts today?" I asked.

  "No, ma'am."

  "Tell me about this ghost," Nick said.

  “He’s gotta dog. I don’t like dogs. This one was real big. Like a wolf. A devil wolf. It snuck up on me and that was it. My heart squeezed so hard it killed me."

  "You mean to tell me there's a hellhound at the tree lot and a ghost?" I said.

  "Yes 'em." Connor nodded gravely. "I saw them both right at the end."

  I looked to Nick and then Ellen holding the teapot in the doorway. Her hand was shaking.

  I took a deep breath. "Okay, first things first, we need to call in Connor's death." We couldn't leave the poor man's body at the tree lot. Thankfully, we had Mrs. Myer's story about Connor delivering her new Christmas tree to work with. My sister didn't believe in intuition or ghosts. She'd never check out the tree lot if I told her I had a bad feeling or that Connor's spirit was in Ellen's kitchen. Even Deputy Preston would have a hard time explaining to my sister what he was doing at the tree lot if he didn’t have a backstory. Facts were the only thing Autumn trusted, and the fact was that Connor was supposed to deliver Mrs. Myers’ Christmas tree, and when he didn't show up, I went to the tree lot and found his body. I just had to make sure I didn't wind up dead in the process.

  "You don't have to come," I said to Ellen, who was already putting her coat on.

  "I'm not letting you go there alone," she replied, sounding braver than I knew she felt.

  "Hey now," Nick quipped.

  "No offense, but if Claire gets in a pickle, someone needs to call for backup," Ellen replied.

  “Who you gonna call?” Nick asked.

  “Well certainly not Ghostbusters. But maybe Deputy Preston or even Father Thompson. He’s quick with the holy water.” Ellen made a squirt gun motion with her hand. I had to admit, that was a smart move. I still wasn't sure how to rid the lot of the wicked ghost and his sidekick, but I needed to figure that out fast.

  "If it's alright with you, I'm going to stay here," Connor said. I took in all six feet, two hundred and fifty pounds of Connor O'Reilly shaking in his boots. If he was scared, I should be too.

  4

  The once festive corner lot caused a shiver to run up my spine, and it wasn't due to the frigid temperature outside. The place was trashed. Someone tipped over trees, smashed ornaments, and tore down the perimeter's twinkling lights. Glass glittered like snowflakes on the snow-packed parking lot. The boy scouts set up a trailer on the far end of the lot. Its metal exterior door hung precariously on its frame. All it would take was a gust of wind to send it crashing to the ground. Off to the side, at the front of the lot, was a makeshift wooden concession stand the kids operated—offering up Christmas cookies and hot chocolate on the weekends. The stand's side displayed wreaths with decorative bows for people to purchase, along with netting to wrap trees up in to take home. Deep claw marks ran the length of the wall. I peered over the front of the concession stand and found Connor's body. Thank heavens, it was me that found him and not one of the kids. I knew it would be there, but it was still a shock to see.

  Ellen crossed herself from the front seat of her sedan, which was still running. She was keeping an eye out from a safe distance, her cell phone at the ready.

  Nick joined me at that time. "Did you find him?"

  "I did." I pointed to Connor's body behind the counter. "How's he doing?"

  "Shockingly well. I left him watching television at Ellen's. Any sign of the ghost or his hellhound?”

  "Not yet." I looked around the vacant lot.

  “Do you think it was just someone passing through?"

  "I don't think so. Not if he told George to get off his property.”

  We both surveyed the lot for a minute. It was deadly silent.

  “Well, I don't see him now. Want do you want to do?" Nick asked.

  "I'm going to call my sister and get the police here, and I guess go from there." I reached for my cell phone to call my sister when a growl rumbled behind us. I slowly turned to face a yellow-eyed wolf. The four-legged beast snarled and snapped at the air. There was no pointing running. He'd catch you before you made it two steps. I had to go with Plan B.

  "Here, puppy, puppy," I said, lowering my hand for the dog to sniff it.

  The dog growled a low warning. Teeth bared. Drool dripped from his muzzle.

  "What are you doing?" Nick hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

  "Trying to make a new friend," I said with a fake smile plastered on my face.

  "It's okay. I won't hurt you, buddy." I reached for a broken branch in the parking lot and held it out for the dog. “Want to play fetch?”

  That must have been the magic word.

  “WOOF!” The bark was deep and loud. The dog sat down like a good boy, tail wagging, waiting at the ready.

  I tossed the stick. “Go get it, boy. Go get the stick.” The dog took off in a mad dash.

  “Can hellhounds fetch?” Nick asked me.

  “I’m improvising here!”

  A few seconds later the dog reappeared and dropped the stick at my feet. “I guess they can.”

  I bent down and picked it up. “Was that fun? Want to fetch it again?” I wagged the stick in the air. “Gooooo get it!” I tossed it again. The dog raced across the parking lot.

  "Behind you," Nick warned a second before the dog’s master appeared.

  "You trying to steal my dog now?” The spook snapped from behind me.

  I stood straight up. “No one’s stealing anything,” I replied.

  “Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s wrong to lie,” the ghost shot back, not believing me for a second.

  “I’m not lying. Promise.” The ghost scrutinized me. He was an older man when he passed. He reminded me of a cowboy with the Stetson hat, button-up flannel shirt, and jeans. He had a lit cigarette perched on his lips that wobbled when he spoke.

  “I think you need to calm down," Nick said.

  "No one asked your opinion. This here is between me and the lady." The dog returned and whined. "I'll tell you like I told them boys, get off my property," he demanded.

  "But this isn't your property," I said cautiously, motioning with my arms to the parking lot. If anything, the lot belonged to Shop & Save, the grocery store that occupied the retail space across the parking lot.

  The ghost looked confused for a minute. “You stole my trees. Now get out of here!”

  "We're not going to touch your trees, but a man over there has died. We need to call the police," Nick replied, trying a firmer approach.

  The cowboy ignored him. Truthfully, I don’t think he heard Nick. He was only seeing red. “I said leave before I sick Brutus on you.” The playful pup’s loyalty was back with his master. The hellhound had returned. The dog crouched low to the ground, waiting to lung at the word and unfortunately, I didn’t have any more stick to throw.

  "One," the cowboy said.

  “Let’s be reasonable h
ere,” Nick tried to calm down the irrational ghost to no eval.

  "Two," the cowboy continued to count down. I didn't want him to get to three.

  I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay, we’re going!” I eyed Nick, hoping he would keep quiet and follow me to the car. I walked backwards the entire time, keeping an eye on the ghost and his dog.

  Once safely tucked inside Ellen's sedan, she asked, “How’d it go?”

  “Not good.” I didn't want the hellhound attacking Autumn when she got there, but I didn't want anyone else to find Connor's body either—or come face to face with ghost cowboy back there. "We have to find out where those trees came from," I said.

  "That's easy, the old Bennet farm," Ellen replied.

  "Really?" I went to school with Matt Bennet. Last I knew, he lived on his family's property, but they didn't farm anymore. "Well, to the farm we go then." If the trees did come from the farm, maybe Matt would know the ghost and how to get rid of him.”

  "I'm going to go back and check on Connor. Meet you guys at the farm?" Nick said.

  "Sounds good," I replied.

  5

  The Bennett farm was just off M-31 outside of town, closer to Traverse City than Bleu Clair Bay. Out here, the farmland was hilly, and the pine trees were plenty. I wasn't sure what I was going to say to Matt when he answered the door. I was hoping the right words would come to me by the time we got there.

  The farmhouse was set back from the road with a long dirt gravel driveway that dead-ended at an expansive front porch. It had been years since I had been out here, not since the bonfire days of high school Friday nights. Matt had grown up at his grandparent's place. It seemed natural that he had inherited the farm when his grandfather passed away. Unfortunately, it looked like the farm had seen better days. Shingles were missing off of the barn's roof, exposing a five-foot-wide gap. The barn, like the house, needed a good paint job.

  A yellow lab came out from nowhere and howled, signaling our arrival.

  Ellen slapped her hand on her heart as the dog bounded up to us.

  "I think I'll wait in the car again," Ellen said. After my encounter with the hellhound earlier, I had to admit that I, too, was on edge.

  "I'll just be a minute," I said, leaving Ellen behind.

  "Knock it off, Hank." Matt's voice came from the detached garage. He was working under his Jeep. If I wasn't mistaken, it was the same Jeep from high school twenty-some years ago. Matt rolled out from the undercarriage and grabbed a rag, wiping off his hands as he stood to greet us.

  "Claire is that you?"

  "Hey Matt, how's it going?"

  "It's going all right. Have to say I'm surprised to see you out here." Matt cocked his head to the side, waiting for me to get to it.

  "Yeah, here's the thing — and this is going to sound crazy, so hear me out — there's been some complaints of a ghost haunting the Christmas tree lot."

  "Come again?”

  I took a deep breath and attempted to get my thoughts in order. "The boy scouts said a ghost scared them at the Christmas tree lot earlier today. I had the same thing happen to me. A man who looked an awful lot like a cowboy and his dog accused us of stealing his trees and told us to get off his property." The last part of the sentence just tumbled out. I looked down at my feet, unsure of how Matt would take my confession. If kids weren't involved, and Connor hadn't died, there was no way I'd be standing there having this conversation at that moment. People tended to think you were nuts when you told them you could see ghosts, which was why I tried to keep it to myself.

  Matt laughed. The reaction was so unexpected. I found myself getting defensive. "I'm not joking. This ghost cowboy scared the crap out of a bunch of kids. Me too."

  "No, I don't doubt it. Was he smoking a cigarette?" I nodded my head in acknowledgment."What about the dog? Did he have mangy black fur and glowing yellow eyes?"

  "You've seen him."

  "More than once. He's my grandad. I thought I was going crazy the first time I saw his ghost, but now I've gotten used to it. Well, except for that mutt of his." Matt's lab whimpered. “Brutus terrified me when I was little. Pretty sure he’s part wolf.”

  “I’d believe that. Any idea what they’re doing at the tree lot?”

  “No, I’ve only ever seen them here.”

  “Has your grandad said anything to you?" In my experience, most people couldn't communicate with ghosts like I could, but that didn't mean they didn't try.

  "No, but he's been stomping around here at night. Something's ticked him off."

  "We need to figure out what." The words were barely out of my mouth when Matt's grandfather appeared out of thin air. Brutus was right behind him.

  "Go on, tell them they stole my trees. Either you call the cops boy, or I will. That's my property."

  "He thinks we stole the trees," I said in case Matt couldn't hear him as clearly as I could.

  "Granddad, nobody stole those trees. I sold them," Matt said.

  "SOLD THEM!" The ghost roared. Even Ellen heard that from the front seat of her car. She crossed herself again. Ellen was fine with the friendly spooks that popped in the bakery, but the cowboy and his pet had her on edge. I held up my finger so she wouldn’t dial Deputy Preston or Father Thompson.

  "What did you want me to do? The farm is falling apart, and we don't have any money. The barn needs a new roof. I need a new car. The house needs new plumbing. Then you have the farm. There's no money to fix the tractor. I can't even lease out the land right now. Nobody wants it. It was either sell off some of the trees or the entire farm."

  The ghost cowboy looked shocked. He appeared to take in the farm for the first time. It wasn't in its glory days as he remembered it years ago but the dilapidated state it was in now.

  "If you needed money, you should've asked," Mr. Bennet said.

  I translated for them.

  "Ask my granddad's ghost and his freaky dog for money. Okay," Matt said incredulously.

  "Follow me," Mr. Bennet said.

  We did as we were told, following them into the house, through the foyer, and into the living room, where a portrait of the family stood over the fireplace.

  Mr. Bennet's orb buzzed around it, clearly wanting us to check it out.

  It was a lovely portrait, but I wasn't sure it was worth any money.

  Matt had the same thought. "Grandad, I don't know what you're getting it. No one's going to buy our family portrait."

  "Unless the frame's made of gold?" I asked, stepping forward to take a closer look.

  "I don't think so." Matt took the picture down from the wall and examined it. Brown paper covered the back.

  "Look inside," Mr. Bennet appeared and said.

  Matt took a pocket knife out from his jeans and tore the paper. Inside was a small wooden box. He set the painting down again fireplace and bent down, freeing the box and its contents. A palm-sized chunk of gold fell out.

  "That's enough to fix up the farm," I said.

  "I'll say. Holy cow," Matt agreed.

  "And there's more where that came from." Mr. Bennet tapped his temple with his fingertip as if he had been thinking ahead. A second later, he winked out of existence.

  Matt stood there, stunned, but I wasn't done with Mr. Bennet. "Hey, come back here," I said.

  "What did I miss?" Nick asked, reappearing in Matt’s living room.

  I ignored him while chasing after Mr. Bennet's orb. I caught up with him in the front yard under the barren apple tree.

  "I said, wait!" I shouted.

  "Are you talking to me?" Mr. Bennet asked.

  "Yes, I'm talking to you. You can't just walk away and think we're done. You scared a group of kids today, and you frightened Connor O'Reilly right to death."

  "I did?" Mr. Bennet's face fell.

  "Your dog did."

  "I didn't mean to scare anyone. I just wanted you all to quit stealing from me."

  "But we weren't stealing from you," I reminded Mr. Bennet.

  "Oh." Mr. Bennet
looked off into the distance.

  "You have to promise me you won't scare anyone like that ever again."

  "I promise." Mr. Bennet looked me square in the eye.

  "And keep control of your dog."

  "I suppose I can do that." Mr. Bennett agreed.

  I looked back at Nick. He shrugged his shoulders. I wasn't sure there was much else I could do unless I could get Mr. Bennet to cross over.

  "What are you looking at me like that for?" Mr. Bennet asked.

  I looked to Nick to see if he wanted to take this one. "I think you'll have better luck," he said, reading my expression.

  "You know, you could always head on up." I nodded with my head toward heaven.

  "I'm not going anywhere. Someone's got to keep an eye on the farm," Mr. Bennet protested.

  "What if you told Matt everything. Where your gold is hidden, your wishes for the land, he can write it all down."

  "I don't know. I don't like it."

  I twisted my face, trying to think of a way to convince him to leave. Then, seeing Nick standing beside me gave me an idea. "What about your wife? Don't you miss her?"

  "Ilene." The word rolled off Mr. Bennett's tongue.

  "She crossed over, didn't she?" I asked.

  Mr. Bennet replied with a somber nod.

  "I bet she misses you," I said.

  "I know that's why I'm here," Nick said. I gave my hubby a sweet smile.

  "You can go see her. Right now. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I asked.

  Mr. Bennet nodded.

  "Why don't we talk to Matt, and then you can head on up, okay?"

  Mr. Bennet nodded. I still wasn’t sure if he’d leave, but I had to try.

  "Do you think it’ll work?” Nick whispered to me while I ran to fetch Matt.

  "I hope so. I know he didn't mean for Connor to die, but I don't want to chance anything happening like that again. Speaking of Connor, where is he?"

  "He wanted to catch the end of the Golden Girls.”

  “Nice.”

  “I told him I’d come back and get him once we were done here.”

  “You might as well go and see if he’s ready,” I replied.