by Blythe Baker
“Right, but what’s weird is that this ghost has been dormant for years. Why has she come back all of a sudden?” Bliss asked.
“That’s the crucial question, isn’t it?” Aunt Candace asked.
“I wish I could ask Mrs. Bickford,” I said. “But she won’t speak to me. Not since I stole her gift…”
“Even if she was speaking to you, she might not know anything anyways,” Bliss said. “Some ghost speakers only ever speak to a handful of ghosts, and don’t care about the others.”
“Would any of your spell weaver friends be willing to share some information?” I asked.
Bliss shook her head. “No. Spell weaving and ghost speaking don’t really cross paths ever. In fact, I don’t think any of the spell weavers can see or speak with ghosts. Not unless the ghosts make their presence known, but that’s a totally different branch of magic that I haven’t even studied yet.”
I started to repeat the path that Bliss had been pacing. “So this ghost somehow reappears after a long time. She’s wandering between the forest and the cemetery, restless. Olivia Foster goes to the cemetery for some unknown reason, and ends up dead.”
“Does this mean her husband is no longer a suspect, then?” Aunt Candace asked.
“No, definitely still a suspect,” Bliss said. “You didn’t talk with him, Mom, but I’m convinced he’s Gifted in some way.”
A sudden icy thought stabbed my mind. “You don’t think he’s another faery, do you?”
Bliss and her mother exchanged nervous glances. “I mean…I guess it’s possible,” Bliss said. “I don’t know anything about faeries or how their magic works, but I guess it’s not totally unlikely that if you came back, that other faeries might be resurging or something…I don’t know, though, so don’t quote me on that.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip, my mind racing. “But what I still don’t understand is how this ghost could’ve killed her. Aren’t they ethereal beings? How could they touch someone made of flesh and bone?”
“Maybe it frightened her to death…” Aunt Candace said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms for warmth.
“I don’t know how it’s possible, I just know it is,” Bliss said. “Even still…I think that if Evan knows anything about this ghost in town, he could be using that to his advantage to cover his own tracks. How convenient is it that regular humans are seeing this ghost? He could claim that she was, like Mom said, frightened to death.”
I went home that night with my head buzzing with questions. How did Olivia die? Did it have anything to with her husband? Was the ghost responsible in some way?
I needed to find the answers. No one was going to give me information about Evan, and no one was going to be able to answer my questions about ghosts, not when these different factions in town held their cards so close to their chests.
No, I was going to need to play the sleuth again and figure this out on my own.
Even if I had no idea what that meant.
11
“You are never gonna guess what I heard!”
I stood up straight, my hands stained with ink from the newspapers I’d been wrapping some glassware up in. “Bliss? Is that you?”
She appeared around the corner of one of the shelves in Abe’s antique shop, her green eyes wide and bright as she hurried across to me. “Yes, of course it’s me,” she said.
I set the newly wrapped glass gently inside the box with the others and walked over to the counter, dusting my hands off. “What’s going on? You never come see me at work.”
“I know, shame on me,” she said, sparing the area around her one sweeping glance. “Listen, I just heard something from one of the other spell weavers down at the guildhall. Something that might really interest you.”
“What?” I asked.
“Evan Foster is moving out of his house,” she said, her eyes wide with delight.
My eyes narrowed. “Okay? Why is this relevant?”
“He’s having an estate sale,” Bliss said. “Trying to get rid of all his and Olivia’s things.”
My heart skipped. “Wait, he must be trying to cover his tracks – ”
“Exactly,” Bliss said. “But this might be the last time we can actually prove it, so we need to go there and see if we can find any evidence.”
“That’s a great idea,” I said. “And if we find anything, we can tell the sheriff that we just happened to see it in their house.”
“Genius,” Bliss said. “Okay, when do you get off work? We need to go before their furniture is all bought up.”
I glanced at the clock. My heart sank. “I’ve still got three hours before the shop closes.”
“Can’t you ask Abe to close up for you?” Bliss asked.
Mr. Cromwell hadn’t looked so well that morning. It made me worry that it would be too much to ask him to close down the store.
“Let me go see,” I said.
I wandered up the stairs to his apartment above the store, and knocked on his door a few times. “Mr. Cromwell? It’s me,” I said.
“Oh, yes, what is it?” he asked from inside.
“Um…” I started, my face flushing. “I was wondering if I could leave a little early today…maybe close up the shop? There is something that I really need to take care of, and today is the only chance I’ll have to do it.”
The door opened and Mr. Cromwell stood there, smiling down at me. He was holding onto his cane rather tightly.
“Of course,” he said. “You’re here nearly every day. And I don’t think you’ve asked for a single day off yet. So go on, do whatever it is you need to do. This is the slow time of day, anyway.”
“Are you sure?” I asked nervously.
“Yes, yes. Now run along. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, alright?” he said.
“First thing, I promise,” I said with a wave over my shoulder as I headed back down the stairs.
After turning off all the lights and locking up the shop, Bliss and I threw my bike into the back of her car and I hopped into the front seat beside her.
Athena popped her head out of my backpack as soon as I set it down on my lap.
“Hey, girl,” Bliss said, grinning at Athena. “Doesn’t it get awfully hot in there for her?”
Stifling, Athena said, looking up at me with her curious black eyes. I knew Bliss couldn’t hear her, so I conveyed her words to Bliss.
So where are we off to? A sale of some sort? Athena asked.
“Evan Foster is selling his things, most likely trying to get rid of any possible evidence,” I said. “And that’s another reason to suspect him. What sort of man would get rid of his wife’s things so soon after the funeral?”
“A sick and twisted one, that’s what sort,” Bliss said.
“Do you know where he lives?” I asked.
She tapped her phone which was sitting in the cup holder. “Got the address online.”
We made our way through the main part of town and continued on through to the surrounding suburbs. It was a beautiful summer day with the sun shining overhead and the clouds puffy and white, scattering the landscape with pale shadows wherever they passed.
Bliss rolled down the window for Athena, who promptly stuck her nose outside and sniffed at the air.
“You know, I can’t tell if she acts more like a dog or a cat,” I said, stroking the soft fur on the fox’s back.
“I’d say both,” Bliss said. “Depends on the day, right?”
We crested a hill and Bliss slowed the car, glancing at her GPS again. “Okay, left here,” she said, pulling onto the road.
It was one of the wealthier parts of town with mansions that gave Delilah Griffin’s a good run for its money. They were behemoth stone structures, with beautiful bay windows and enclosed back porches. Most boasted pools surrounded by tall fences in their large backyards, and most had more than two cars in their driveways or garages.
“I didn’t realize so many wealthy people lived in Faerywood Falls,” I said.
“I know most of these families,” Bliss said. “They’re all really sweet people. They give a lot back to the community. One of them donated enough money for the daycare facility the church runs to be completely rebuilt. But I had no idea that people like Evan Foster lived here…”
Her nose wrinkled as we came to another T intersection and turned right. At the end of the street, in the cul-de-sac, we saw almost a dozen cars lining the street.
“That must be it,” I said. “I just hope we can find something.”
I’m going to stay in here, Athena said, pulling her nose back inside, and turning to jump over my shoulder into the backseat. I don’t think it would be wise for me to come inside.
“Yeah…” I said.
Bliss cracked the windows for Athena before we hopped out, and she locked the car with a resounding beep.
Her car stood out from the others. Most of them were high end luxury cars that looked like they belonged in Dr. Valerio’s collection.
The Foster’s home was like a cookie cutter of the others on the street. It had to be double the size of the house I grew up in back in Hillbilly Hollow, maybe even three times as large. A large window over the door boasted a chandelier hanging inside the foyer. The garage was open, and there were people looking over some of the furniture that had been dragged out there.
Bliss and I walked up to the front door and pushed it open, stepping inside.
It smelled like pine cleaner and bleach.
A woman in a black suit approached us with a tight smile on her face. “Welcome to the estate sale,” she said. “If there’s anything you like, please come to me and I’ll let you know if it’s already been purchased.”
“Great, thanks,” Bliss said with a broad smile. “Oh, and is Mr. Foster home?”
“No, he isn’t, I’m sorry,” the woman said.
“Thanks anyway,” Bliss said. She waited until the woman had turned around before raising her eyebrows at me.
We were in.
There were other people wandering through the house, examining some of the gorgeous furniture for sale. Desks, couches, leather chairs, bookcases, armoires. It was almost as if Olivia’s husband was ready to get rid of everything he owned and start fresh.
“Wow, three thousand dollars for a china cabinet?” Bliss said, arching an eyebrow up at a glass-doored piece. “Are the handles real gold or something?”
“Okay, what should we look for?” I asked. “It doesn’t look like normal people live here.”
“There’s still got to be something around here…” Bliss said. “Let’s go check upstairs.”
We wandered back through the foyer and headed toward the staircase.
“Just be aware that some of the rooms upstairs are off limits,” the woman with the black suit and tight smile called after us. “Please stay out of those for the family’s privacy.”
“Of course,” Bliss said politely.
As soon as we reached the top of the stairs, I headed down a hallway where other people weren’t gathering.
A handwritten note said DO NOT ENTER on one of the doorways.
My heart was pounding in my head as I stared up at it. “Are we really going to do this?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Bliss said. “Why?”
“What if we get caught?” I whispered.
“Then we just say that one of us really had to use the bathroom and couldn’t find it. This place is big enough, they should buy it,” Bliss said.
I took a deep breath before putting my hand on the knob…and opening the door.
It was a bedroom, with a large, lush king bed in the center of the wide space with windows flanking it on either side. Clothes were strewn about on the floor, and piles of paper and receipts covered the dresser beside the door.
“Bingo,” Bliss whispered, slipping around me and into the room.
“Wait – ” I said, glancing over my shoulder. No one was looking at us, so I hurried in after her, closing the door behind me as silently as I could.
“It smells like sweaty men in here,” Bliss said, wrinkling her nose, looking around.
Behind her, I saw a hallway into a bathroom. The countertop beside the sink was cluttered with unfolded towels and a pair of socks lay crumpled on the floor underneath. “It’s obvious that he hasn’t had anyone in here to clean since her death…”
I winced as the sound of some kind of thump out in the hall reached me, but after a few frantic seconds of staring at the door, I realized that no one was going to come in and bother us. At least not at that moment.
I moved over toward the dresser and started to look through some things scattered there. I saw a pile of change, a remote to the television hanging on the wall, and a stack of clean dress shirts, half of which had toppled off onto the floor.
“Nothing in here…” Bliss said from some muffled place. “Wow, he already got rid of all her clothes? That’s insane!”
A jewelry box sat on a vanity table. When I walked over and opened it up, I saw it was filled with nothing but cheap costume jewelry. “He sold all her nice jewelry, too,” I said.
“What a loser,” Bliss said.
I went over to the bed. There were end tables on either side. The one on the left was clearly his, with nothing more than a charging station for all his electronics.
The end table on the other side, however, was completely empty.
I pulled open the top drawer and found nothing. Second drawer also didn’t hold anything.
I sighed and looked around.
Was there nothing left of Olivia Foster in this house?
I knelt down and checked underneath the end table and found nothing again. But a bright pop of blue did catch my eye.
There was a book underneath the bed. It had slid almost halfway under. I knew I never would’ve seen it unless I knelt down like this.
I reached under the bed and pulled it out…and my heart sank.
The Pain of Trying to Conceive; What to do when you’ve tried everything.
“She wanted to have children…” I said, opening the first page of the book.
A note that had been tucked inside it fluttered out and onto the ground.
Stooping to pick it up, I saw a few words scrawled across the bright pink sticky note.
I know things have been stressful lately. Why don’t we take time to just be together? Let’s take a walk in the cemetery tonight, just like we used to when we were dating. There’s still a chance for us. I love you.
Evan
I gasped, clamping my hand over my mouth.
“What? What is it?” Bliss asked, appearing from the bathroom.
“I found it,” I said, staring down at the note. “I found the proof.”
12
“You’re insane. You know that, right?” Bliss asked as we drove back through town.
“Hush,” I said, glaring at her. My phone was pressed to my ear and I was listening to the call that was trying to go through.
It rang once. Then twice. Then a third time.
“He’s not picking up,” I said. “Is there no one down at the station?”
“Faerywood Falls PD,” came a voice on the other end of the line.
“Finally,” I said. “I need to speak with Sheriff Garland. It’s important.”
“Name?” said the man on the other end.
“Marianne Huffler,” I said. “Tell him it’s about – ” Then I held my tongue. This was likely an Ungifted person I was speaking to. He wouldn’t know anything about the Gifted. “Can’t I just speak with him?”
“I’m sorry, he’s out at the moment,” the man said.
I groaned internally. “Alright, fine. When will he be back?”
“Soon, I think,” the man answered. “He just stepped out for his lunch break.”
“Can I leave him a message?” I asked.
“Sure, hold on a second. I’ll put you through to his machine,” the man said. There was a click, another ring, and then the sheriff’s automated message answered.
<
br /> “Hi, Sheriff Garland? It’s Marianne Huffler. I found something interesting that is connected to the death of Olivia Foster. If it would be at all possible, I’d like for you to come out and meet me at the scene of the crime, where I’d like to discuss a theory with you. I’m heading there now, so maybe you can just meet me there? Please call me back on my cell phone. Thanks a lot. Bye.”
“I still think you’re nuts,” Bliss said, rolling her eyes.
“Maybe I am, but I want this case to be resolved,” I said.
“How are you going to tell him about the ghost, huh?” Bliss said.
“What does the ghost have to do with it now?” I asked. “We found the note incriminating Evan. There isn’t anything about a ghost.”
“I thought we were sure the ghost had something to do with it,” Bliss said.
I glanced out the window. It was still daylight, but it was definitely going to start getting dark in a few hours.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe I can look around her grave again until Sheriff Garland gets there.”
“Because all we have is that little piece of paper,” Bliss said. “And for all we know, he wrote that letter years ago, and Olivia just held onto it. I mean, there’s no date or anything on it, is there?”
“Well…no,” I said in defeat. “There isn’t a date, but this has gotta be it, right? I mean, what are the chances that she dies in the cemetery on a different occasion than that note suggests? And that book was practically brand new. It’s not like she’s had it forever.”
“That isn’t proof,” Bliss said, scratching her chin. “We’ve got nothing.”
“Why don’t we let Sheriff Garland determine that?” I asked.
“Why don’t I just take you down to the station so you can talk to him there?” Bliss asked. “Wouldn’t that be easier than going back to the cemetery?”
“I need to be able to point it all out to him,” I said. “I need to show him where I was standing, what I saw, everything. Maybe I can convince him to look for more clues with me if we’re already there.”
“Listen, I want this scumbag caught as much as you do, but unless Garland takes the bait and somehow Evan ends up in court, I don’t see how any of this makes any sense,” Bliss said.
