by E. M. Moore
Mel didn’t want to at first. She thought her standing in for one of her friends would be in poor taste. However, the others who served were relentless—especially Eliza Penn who chaired the group. So relentless that Mel had given away Mrs. Ward’s precious library fundraiser idea. If Mel had any clue the can of worms she would open by doing so, she would never have told Eliza Penn about the Win A Date With Salem’s Finest idea. I’d wager she’d rather sew her mouth shut if she could go back in time, but the damage was already done and I wondered if I’d ever hear the end of it.
I smoothed the front my dress down as Mrs. Ward narrowed her eyes at my sister. There was no way she was forgiving her for this. Ever since she thought of the idea, she’d been touting it as the best idea since sliced bread. Literally. There was no getting her to stop talking about it. Since we hadn’t raised all the money with the online fundraiser that we’d hoped to, the next best thing was the “Win A Date” event, which was now not even our idea.
“You’re looking at me again,” Mel said.
Mrs. Ward shrugged her shoulders and kept staring. Neither one of them was going to give in so easily. I hadn’t known Mrs. Ward to be vindictive, but apparently once you steal someone’s fundraising idea, all bets were off. Her lip curled up into a snarl. “Are you sure? It may just be a figment of your imagination, Mel.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. It had been this way for weeks. Even though she was my sister, taking away a perfectly good fundraising idea was just not acceptable in Mrs. Ward’s book of etiquette.
“It’s definitely not my imagination. Your eyes are like beady, red hot, laser pokers into my side.”
Mrs. Ward stiffened. “Are you saying I have beady eyes?”
Mel twisted to look at Mrs. Ward, putting on her very own ‘Don’t mess with me’ look. “If the shoe…”
“Stop,” I called out, putting my hands in the air. There was no way that line of conversation would go anywhere good. What was I going to do with these two? They were the two closest people to me in all the world. They really needed to get over this. “Mel has already apologized for stealing your idea, Mrs. Ward. What’s done is done.”
Honestly, I couldn’t really blame my sister. I knew the people on that committee—and especially Eliza Penn—were a force to be reckoned with. When they asked for ideas, Mel said the first thing that popped into her head. It just so happened it was Mrs. Ward’s idea, not her own. “What really matters is that we’re still going to get some money for the library out of it. If anyone decides to bid on me, that is.”
Yep, you heard that right. Miss Maddie Styles, Library Director of Salem public, had been talked into auctioning herself off in the Win A Date With Salem’s Finest. In my case, it would be Win A Date with Salem’s Most Awkward. I could see the bids pouring in now.
I still had no idea what I was doing even though Mel and Mrs. Ward assured me this was the best possible thing. They each had their own motives, of course. Mrs. Ward hoped her son Jackson would bid on me. And my sister, well, did I mention Eliza Penn? Each of the members of the committee had to sign up two people to get auctioned off. I was Mel’s last hope.
As far as Jackson bidding on me, I was all for that. I did not want to have to spend an evening with someone I didn’t know. I could pretty much guarantee that my awkward factor would increase exponentially if some random person won me. I was even toying with the idea of giving Jackson the money to bid on me. At least he was the problem I did know.
“I see that look,” Mel said, her eyebrow arching. “People are going to bid on you, I promise.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t bid on anybody.”
“I can’t. I wasn’t talking about myself, I was talking about everybody else. Who wouldn’t want to bid on you, Maddie?”
Mrs. Ward smiled fondly at me as the seamstress pinned my dress, working her way around the hem. “Of course, you’ll have bidders. You’ll be the hottest commodity in that auction. I’m willing to bet this alone raises enough money for the new elevator.”
Mel gave me a self-satisfied smile. Finally, something they could agree on.
I thought they were both totally nuts.
In a shocking turn of events, Mel said, “I agree. This is it, I know it. You won’t have to win that mean old board lady over anymore. You’re going to go for the highest bid, I just know it.”
I shrugged, earning a scathing glare from the seamstress. Blushing, I looked at my sister. She didn’t fool me. She was just trying to butter up Mrs. Ward. I didn’t know where these two were living nowadays but here, in the real world, who would want mousey old me? This would be a tragedy, solidifying my reign as the most awkward person in Salem history.
I stared at myself in the three-way mirror poised in front of me. The dress was simple, green. A dress one would wear for a garden party, and that was as fancy as I was going. Mel tried to talk me into an evening gown for the bidding ceremony, but there was no way I was going to subject myself to that. Especially the ones she picked out. I couldn’t pull off a strapless with a high slit. Nope. Not ever. Even now, I stared at the hem in the mirror and chewed over my bottom lip. “Do you think we should let the hem out a little more?”
Mel rolled her eyes. The seamstress dropped her hands to her side as she kneeled in front of me. Well, it wasn’t my fault I’d asked her to take the hem out and redo it several times. I was just trying to find the fine line between pride and auctioning myself off.
For the record, there was no fine line. There was a six-foot gaping hole with razor-sharp teeth.
“I don’t want people to get the wrong idea. You know,” I sighed, “that I’m going to give the goods away for free,” I explained, whispering the last part and looking around for any witnesses to share in my embarrassment.
Mel burst out laughing. She laughed so hard she could barely say the next sentence. With her hand over her chest, she kept having to start and restart after another laugh bubbled up from inside her, interrupting what was sure to be a funny retort. “First of all, don’t say goods. Second of all, I’m sure, as a librarian, you have nothing to worry about as far as that goes. No one looking at this dress will think the evening promises something else.”
“Good. Then, I’ve done my job.”
Mrs. Ward shot my sister another lovely glance. “You’re perfect just as you are, Maddie. I’m not kidding, you are going to be the talk of the auction despite the fact that we didn’t plan it. If we had,” she said, crossing her legs away from Mel and jutting her chin into the air, “you know it would’ve been done right.”
I had to agree with that. Exceptional organization and planning skills were my bread and butter.
Mel sent daggers in Mrs. Ward’s direction. “Can you just tell me when you’re going to get over this? I’d like to mark it in my calendar under ‘Thank the Goddess, pigs have flown’.”
In the bright light of the shop, Mel’s eyes glistened. The last few weeks had been tough on her. She’d lost one half of her coven, been afraid for her life, and put up with me worrying about her. She would never admit it, but Mrs. Ward’s not-so-subtle attacks on her were wearing her thin.
Since that night in Mel’s apartment when Rich, the crazy security company guy who tried to singlehandedly take out Mel’s coven, was apprehended, everything had been going relatively fine. Despite this little hiccup with the Win A Date With Salem’s Finest fiasco, the library and the fundraising for the new elevator had been progressing nicely. Mel and I had started to spend more time together like we used to. Mrs. Ward was performing her librarian assistant duties as well as she ever had, and her son Detective Jackson Ward, did his detective work thing, which, at no time, did I have to intrude in at all. I kind of liked it that way.
It was almost as if life was back to normal in my small world. No magic, no spells, definitely no witchy stuff. For the auction tomorrow, if I even got one bid, I’d count myself a lucky librarian. And, as soon as this latest fundraising scheme was over, I�
��d make sure to find time to just relax. I’d even contemplated taking a couple days off from the library. It would be a gift to myself for raising enough money for the new elevator.
The seamstress put the last pin in the dress and moved away. I turned and twisted in the mirror and Mrs. Ward ‘ooh’d and aah’d’ at just the right moments. At least I wouldn’t make a fool out of myself. The dress did look nice, whether anyone bid on me or not. All I had to do was stay on my feet when I walked across the stage and try not to be humiliated when no one’s hand raised after the bidding started. “I think we…”
The seamstress stared at me, her eyebrows halfway up her forehead. I’d really have to send her a thank you card for all the hard work I put her through. When she took me on as a new client, she had no idea who she was dealing with.
“…we’re done,” I finished. The visible relief on not only the seamstress’s face, but on Mrs. Ward and my sister, pulled at my subconscious. It was possible I’d been a little nuts about this whole thing. I could be difficult when I wasn’t doing things myself. “Thank you so much,” I tacked on. “Now, if one of you will just get the zipper, I can change out of this and get ready for tomorrow.” My stomach flipped over just thinking about it.
“Does getting ready for tomorrow involve drinking?” Mel asked. “Because if it does, I’m down for that.”
“I’ve got a new bottle of wine at my house,” Mrs. Ward offered.
Mel looked at her warily. No doubt she was contemplating whether getting a few free glasses of wine would make up for the fact that Mrs. Ward was bound to bring up that the Win A Date With Salem’s Finest was her idea, and often. I didn’t care what they decided. I just wanted to get out of this dress, relax, and not think about tomorrow until tomorrow. Wine would help, but so would a nice, hot bath and some Maxie snuggles.
I turned so Mrs. Ward could unzip my dress. Then, I walked into the dressing room, leaving them to figure out what we would do tonight on their own. I took the dress off carefully, peeling it off my shoulders and down as gingerly as I could so as not to get any more pins in me. I couldn’t be sure, but I was almost positive the seamstress, on more than one occasion, stuck me on purpose.
As soon as the dress was safely on the hanger, I dressed in my normal clothes and ran a brush through my hair. Just as I was about to put my brush back in my purse, the air behind me started to shimmer. I stilled, and a cold chill ran up my spine. Goosebumps sprouted and ran down my arms. No. This couldn’t be happening. Another…
I leaned forward, my hands on either side of the mirror, and stared behind me. The feeling didn’t go away, it only intensified and lingered. A few strands of my hair wisped over my face in a burst of freezing wind. I was frozen in place, not able to move. Then, the air shifted again. Yep. Just as I feared.
Behind me, in the corner of the dressing room, the cream wall distorted and then became clearer and clearer—a figure taking shape. Soon, I stared into the eyes of Mrs. Paladino. Dead Mrs. Paladino.
Chapter 2
I narrowed my eyes at the corner of the dressing room as if I had trouble seeing the small letters in an eye exam. This couldn’t be right. Mrs. Paladino, my old science teacher? Oh no…
I blinked, but sure enough, she still stood in the corner of the room. She was a shorter woman with a bit of a hunchback. Her short-cropped hair with a style straight out of the 60’s had ribbons of silver running through—and not the kind of gray that made some seniors look distinguished. It was an old, wiry gray, the kind that couldn’t be tamed and stuck out in a frazzled mane. Her hair framed the one feature I would recognize anywhere: her unforgiving eyes.
The world worked in mysterious ways because my old science teacher was the last person I wanted to see. She’d had it out for me since high school.
Mrs. Paladino sighed behind me, a frigid reminder of all those years ago. I turned and found myself pressed against the mirror to look at her square in the face.
A pale outline of herself, she was merely a caricature of her old body like some teenager had placed a cadaver photo filter over her to be funny. Still, her eyes trolled over me, appraising me like she did in that smelly old classroom of hers. “You?” she sneered. “This has got to be a terrible mistake.”
You’re telling me, I thought. But with my witchy side, nothing was a mistake. Now I just had to figure out why she was here.
“Of all the people…,” she trailed off, shaking her head. “I felt a pull, like a magnet, and I just knew it was taking me someplace that would bring me help. The universe has a way of biting right in the buttocks though, doesn’t it? Instead of help, it brings me here. To you.”
“We’ve established that it’s me,” I deadpanned. Dang. Dead for five years and she was still giving me a hard time. We needed to hurry this up so she could leave me alone. I really didn’t need the added stress of the most horrendous teacher at Salem High showing up the day before the auction.
A small smirk turned the corner of her mouth up. “I don’t know what you can do for me. You can barely dissect a frog, let alone help me with this problem. If I remember correctly, you gag at the smell of formaldehyde, don’t you?”
I closed my eyes, remembering that terrible day in Biology. That poor, dead frog, and those instruments of torture. My mind literally rebelled at the idea of cutting it open. It wasn’t the formaldehyde, it was the putting the poor creature through anymore tragedy that had me running from the room.
As a librarian, it’s not hard to guess that science was never my thing. Mrs. Paladino knew this. She once commented—in front of the whole class, mind you—that she was surprised I could walk and chew gum at the same time based on my recent quiz grade. Forgive me for liking books, words, and imagination more than anything else. A small boil started in my lower stomach.
I shook my head, knowing if I said anything snarky to her, we would never get anywhere. If she didn’t listen to me when she was alive, I was sure death made her that much more stubborn. The only reason why she would be showing herself to me now was if she truly did need something. Since I was one of only a handful of people in Salem who could actually see ghosts, she didn’t have many to choose from. There was Mel, though my sister had the same experience and opinion of her as I did.
I wouldn’t wish her on Mel anyway, even if she did give away Mrs. Ward’s fundraising idea. We’d always had a sneaking suspicion Mrs. Paladino didn’t like our witchy side. Funny that was the reason why I could help her now though. I kept my mouth shut about that. She was already staring me down as if I was a teenager again. If I wanted to get rid of her, and I did want to get rid of her, I needed to figure out what she wanted. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to look as menacing as possible. After all, I belonged here and she didn’t. “Why are you here, Mrs. Paladino?”
“Even you should be able to figure that one out. I just told you I needed help, Madison Styles. Are you incapable of listening to anything I say?”
The same, small feeling washed over me as it always did in her classroom. It was as if I was shrinking right there in front of her. I would never understand why some people used words to tear people down instead of building them up. Good thing I was different now. I was an adult, who had a good job—my dream job. My worth wasn’t based on an old, dead science teacher’s opinion of me. I straightened my shoulders and tipped my chin in the air. “You do realize I’m the Library Director of Salem Public? I’m certainly capable of thinking for myself and I believe, even capable of walking and chewing gum at the same time. Not that I chew gum, it’s terribly bad for your teeth.” I grimaced. I hadn’t meant to go off on a tangent. “I meant only to ask what problem you’re having currently. Since I’ve never seen you before this, I can only guess that something recently changed.”
Despair filled Mrs. Paladino’s eyes, and she looked away. Her whole body almost caved in on itself. Her shoulders slumped forward, making her hunchback that much more pronounced. She spoke, her voice broken and frayed at the edges though she trie
d to hide it. “It’s my husband, Victor. He’s dead.”
A small gasp freed itself from my throat. Though Mrs. Paladino and I had never gotten along, her husband was another story. He was such a nice, gentle man. I’d never understood how they’d made it all those years together. I’d even remarked once or twice that Mrs. Paladino was so mean she’d killed herself off. It was all the hatred she’d built up inside her over the years that finally took her out.
But her husband…oh no. My chest hurt with all the memories of his smiling face. In fact, I’d just seen him yesterday outside their house on Chestnut Street when I was on my way to work. He seemed alive and well, watering the planters hanging off their porch. “Just now? Is he okay?”
“Yes, just now, and no, he’s not okay. He’s dead.”
Well, of course, I hadn’t mean it like that. People died all the time and their previously deceased loved ones didn’t come find me.
“He’s at the Danvers Hotel in the walk-in freezer.” She pulled herself to her full height, which was more than a few inches shorter than myself. Surprisingly, her hunchback all but straightened itself. “No one’s found him yet, and I can’t believe I’m asking you this, but you have to do something.”
Even as a ghost, she was incapable of asking for help even when she said she was. Her last remark was just that, a sentence, a demand. No question in sight. Either way, I would do this for Mr. Paladino.
A loud rap came on the door, and I jumped. Mel’s voice came from the other side as she tapped her foot just under the dressing room stall. “I hope you’re hurrying. She’s brought up the event tomorrow no less than five times since you’ve been changing. Five times, Maddie. Five.”
Yeah, she was at her limit. I stared at Mrs. Paladino who hadn’t moved. How was I going to deal with this and that at the same time? “Is that your sister?” she whispered. “I have to see this.”
