Chapter 19
The afternoon was warm and sunny. A soft, muggy breeze hinted at the summer weather to be expected for southern Missouri. Mr. Pepper and Mr. Simpson were lounging in two comfortable hammocks hung on stands under giant-sized pine trees whose green boughs moved intermittently in the soft wind. As the two men snored in and out on opposite beats, Lewis and Clark came loping into this tranquil scene.
“I thought that was the smell of hot dogs, Lewis. They’ve left ‘em lying on the table so they must be done eating. What do ya think?” Clark asked hopefully, his nose sniffing at the edge of the table where three plump hot dogs rested on a paper plate.
“Yeah, let’s take care of those for the two humans. It would be a shame to see them left there for much longer. Besides, those crows who hang around here will grab them if we don’t,” Lewis added. He put his two front paws up on the table and shook it making the hot dogs roll off onto the ground. Clark was quick to snatch two, leaving the other one for his brother.
Down near the pavilion, Dale was working. The lawnmower he was using made a humming sound that added to the peaceful ambiance of the park that afternoon. With the hot dogs eaten, Lewis and Clark decided to lie in the shade under Mr. Pepper’s hammock. Soon, they, too, were asleep. A creaking from above made Lewis drowsily open the one eye not mashed against the grass. He heard a soft female voice humming, much the same way Marnie would do when she was folding clothes or making dinner. From Lewis’ vantage point, it looked like two people were lying in Mr. Pepper’s hammock. “Odd that,” Lewis thought to himself.
Lulled by the music, he let his one eye droop shut again and he drifted back to his favorite doggy paradise, a place filled with donuts, bacon, and slow squirrels.
AAAhrrrruuushhh! A blast of unnatural wind and what sounded like two angry squirrels nattering and attacking each other brought Mr. Pepper, Mr. Simpson, and Lewis and Clark abruptly out of their naps.
Whatever it was causing the tempest, couldn’t be seen, but the air around the camp was swirling and things were being tossed around in every direction. Lewis and Clark both rose up at the same time, upending Mr. Pepper from his hammock, while screeching female sounds and hostile charges were being made across the two men’s hammocks.
The two beagles, knowing when it was a good time to make their exit, flew from the disaster zone at top speed toward the safety of home. Noah Simpson managed to get out of his swinging fabric bed and made a dash for his own camper, but halfway to the door, he hesitated. Maybe being locked inside again with another unnatural entity wasn’t a good idea, so, instead, he ran for Marnie’s place.
“Stop it! Stop it!” Mr. Pepper yelled while lying on the ground. “I’m tired of being tossed about, and I’m tired of all this hullabaloo. Just stop it!”
The storm ceased around him.
“Eloise, if that’s you, I’m leaving on Sunday after the dance. I promise to get back to Canton and take care of the Jeff situation for Casey. As for whoever it is you’re having a fuss with, she needs to get on home, too. Both of you settle down, go your separate ways, and leave me be!”
Mr. Pepper finished up with an irritated ‘harrumph’ and stomped inside his camper, but before he shut his door, he leaned back outside a bit and said, “And don’t either one of you come inside. Stay out!” He slammed the door.
It was clear he’d had enough of ghostly female trouble. As for Eloise, she heard by his tone, he intended to head home in a few days and that was all she wanted from him anyway. Poppy hovered over her pit, not sure what to do with herself.
“Don’t you have anywhere to go other than that hole in the ground?” Eloise asked Poppy in an irritated voice.
“I had a home, but it burned down. That’s why I’ve been coming around here,” Poppy sobbed.
“Oh, for goodness sakes! You’ve got to pull yourself together. You may be dead, but you’re not done. Why are you hanging around anyway? I’m trying to see to some family problems with my daughter and grandchildren, so what’s your story?” Eloise said in a tough maternal tone.
“Well, I think someone killed me and I wasn’t buried,” she pointed to the pit, “in a decent way. I feel like I need to say goodbye to the people I loved.”
Eloise did understand. Ghosts who had bad ends tended to struggle with the afterlife sometimes.
“I see. It makes sense now. Well, I don’t have time for this, but I guess I kind of owe you one for inadvertently helping me to light a fire under Saul’s butt to go home to Casey.”
Eloise studied Poppy for a short second. “I’ll go with you to your old home and see what can’t be done to make you more comfortable. As for the goodbyes and the burial, that’s on you.”
Poppy nodded. “I think those are being taken care of by a woman. I would like to go home, though.”
The two ghosts wandered off through the woods in the direction of the Turner House and farm. It wasn’t long before they reached the place. A campfire was smoking with the homey smell of meat being grilled.
“There’s someone here,” Poppy said surprised.
“It’s a woman. A pitiful dresser, though,” Eloise added.
“Hey! That’s my mama!” Poppy exclaimed.
“Don’t go running up at her, you ninny. It’ll scare her. Trust me; I’ve scared the daylights out of my daughter. Go slow and do something gentle that lets you be close to her but not give her a heart attack.”
As Poppy walked away in the direction of her mother who was scratching around trying to tidy up her burnt-out shell of a home, Eloise disappeared. Poppy would be fine. Everyone, at some point, had to get used to being dead around the living. It was a normal rite of passage. Life goes on, just in different ways.
Chapter 20
Putting the finishing touches on his spiky, tough-cop hairdo, Deputy Kirchner gave himself a critical look in the mirror. He’d taken special care today to look his best. His shoes were buffed to a beautiful black shine, and he was wearing his uniform he kept for special occasions, which he always had laundered at the dry cleaners.
“Maybe I’ve overdone it. I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard to impress her,” he said to himself, feeling worried. Remembering Dr. Dempster, Tommy decided it was better to put his best foot forward. If Dempster was around, he’d be watching to see how Tommy handled himself.
“Okay,” he said straightening himself up to his full five-foot-eleven height. “Let’s go see Laney.” At the sound of her name, his stomach dropped a few inches. This visceral reaction was a clear indication of his true feelings.
Before Tommy headed to Dr. Dempster’s office, he needed to stop off at the police station to retrieve the forensic file on the skeleton. His drive to work was an incredibly short five minutes. For the last five years, Tommy had been living in an apartment over Mrs. Maglioni’s restaurant. It suited his bachelor needs. Plus, from the time he woke up to the time he walked into work, it was a thirty-minute turnaround. Today, though, he’d been primping for over an hour.
“Morning, Tommy,” Zeb said, watching his starched and pressed glamor-deputy walk through the reception area. “You going to a funeral today?” he teased, knowing full well, Tommy was off to see Laney at Dr. Dempster’s office about the dental records.
A bit piqued at Zeb’s teasing, Tommy gruffly replied, “Nope, you know I’m going to Dr. Dempster’s this morning. Want to look my best.”
Men give no quarter usually in the area of torture teasing their friends. So, Zeb continued his playful attempts at annoying his favorite deputy.
“Well, I think I need you to run an errand today up to Pineville instead of going to see the tempting Laney.”
Zeb lifted his eyes from the papers on his desk in time to see Tommy’s crestfallen expression at the horror of having to go to Pineville instead of Dr. D’s. It was too much fun, and the sheriff gave up trying to hold in his laughter.
“Boy! You look like my dog, Popcorn, did when I took away the chicken bone she got a hold of and was chewing
on last night. I’m messing with you, deputy. Get on over and see Laney. Don’t waste all morning over there, though. We do need to drive up to Pineville today. I’ve got a new recruit I need you to help train.”
Zeb put two fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. In came the dog he’d rescued from Ricky and Melanie’s the day before. It had been bathed, treated for fleas, and looked, at least, fifty percent better.
“Here’s your police dog you’ve been wanting,” Zeb said, his tone as excited as a parent who is giving the best Christmas present ever to his kid. “Took her to the vet yesterday and they said she’s a mix between a German Shepherd and a Labrador. Should make a great dog to train. Dr. Landon said she’s not quite two years old. Her former situation was a bad one, so you’ll need to be gentle. We’re going to Pineville to sign you both up for the classes.”
If Tommy hadn’t restrained himself, he would have crossed the short distance between him and the sheriff to give the former a massive hug. Having never had a dog before and wanting one for so long, the joy of it nearly made him tear up. He’d kept himself from having one simply because of his job. It would be unfair to any dog not to spend time with it.
He went over and offered his mentor a handshake. Upon reflection (and because no one else was around), he went ahead and gave Zeb a hug.
“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down. I’d like to name her Sheba,” he said.
“I know you won’t let me down. That’s a good name for her. Heck, those boys in Pineville, after looking at you today, will think I’m running a top-notch program down here.”
Zeb watched the young man rough-up the dog’s fur, which sat slavishly at his new human’s feet.
“Don’t spoil her too much, and she needs to live with you. If Mama Maglioni won’t let you have her in your apartment, you’re going to have to find other arrangements. Got it?”
Tommy’s smile stretched from one ear to the other, “Not a problem. Mrs. Maglioni loves me because she thinks no one will rob her if I’m living up above the restaurant. With this dog’s hearing and fierce barking, she’s gonna feel that much safer.”
“Okay, better be going, deputy. Leave the dog here until you’re done at Dr. Dempster’s. She can help me do paperwork.”
Tommy grabbed his computer and the forensic files and headed out to his car after petting the dog one last time. As he settled himself in the car seat and put on his safety belt, his mind snapped back to his conversation with Mrs. Caruthers on her front porch the day before.
“She couldn’t have known, could she…about the dog?” he said under his breath. “It’s a female and Zeb said it came from a difficult situation.”
Tommy shook his head, but a smile creased the corners of his mouth. If Mrs. Caruthers was right, maybe he had a shot with Laney, too. He backed the police vehicle out of the parking spot, took one last look in his rearview mirror to see Sheba peeking out at him through the station’s windows watching him pull away.
Sonya, home from her fact-finding mission, watched Willard roll around in her back garden determined to remove the soap smell from the bath they gave him at La Pooch Salon. The pretty bow was hanging loosely to the side of his head. She shook her head and went inside.
It had been a busy day and she wanted to take off her shoes, make a cup of coffee, and relax. Halfway to the fruition of her dream, Fritz blew in with a fury. He made the copper pots hanging over her range rattle and clank together inharmoniously.
“I’m glad you’re finally home, Sonya. I’m not living under this roof a minute longer with that clingy, whiny female from the dirt pit. She won’t leave me alone and I tossed her out of the house.”
Fritz called Sonya by her given name instead of Sunny only when he was truly upset.
“Fritz!” Sonya exclaimed. “Where did she go?”
“Back to her hole, no doubt. I could care less. It was like wrenching myself free from an eight-legged Caoineag.”
“A what?” Sonya asked.
“A Caoineag. It’s a whining Scottish banshee who brings gloom and death,” Fritz said with an overstated bored irritation.
“Oh for Pete’s sake, Fritz, it hasn’t been that difficult. Poppy can’t kill you; you’re already dead. Let’s go find her and bring her back. She needs to be at peace, or you know how this can go.”
Half materialized, Fritz sat on top of the kitchen cabinets looking gloomy for a minute, not responding to Sonya’s call for action. She saw by his face, he wasn’t going to help her.
“What is it, Fritz? Did something happen that’s upset you?”
He hemmed and hawed while fiddling with the saltshaker that sat on the stovetop. Finally, he said, “I can see something you can’t and it…” he shook his head like he was trying to chase the image from his mind.
“What? What can’t I see?” Sonya demanded.
Fritz compressed his lips together in a gesture of disgust.
“It’s always like this with the murdered ones, Sonya,” he said in a softer voice. “For some reason, the living can’t see the damage done to them like we can. They live a half-life and they’re haunted. To make it right, they need to ascend to God. While she was in the ground, she wasn’t likely to shift, but unless she finds someone to cling to soon, she may go bad. It’s disturbing for the rest of us. They pull on our energy. I can’t have her so close.”
Sonya understood Fritz’s concern. Spirits like Poppy needed immediate action to save them. They were incredibly difficult to help because they could lose all sense of time, connectedness to their real lives, and for some, they became too dark to save. Black energy holes that lost all semblance of their souls.
For some reason, murder victims, if they didn’t take their first opportunity to ascend, might wander for eons as perpetual victims or begin to descend into a spiritual madness. Other ghosts might try to help, but it was like trying to communicate with an infant. Sonya realized time was short for Poppy. She’d been buried and the ground had kept her safe, perhaps, but the minute she was unearthed and her home removed, time started ticking for her.
“Okay, Fritz. I know you can’t have her too close, but I need you to tell me where you think she is. If I’m going to help her, I need you to find her.”
“I’ll do it for you, love, but afterwards. I’m off to see my kin for a while. My wife has invited me for a walk along Loch Lomond. I’ll be taking the low road, for sure, but as for her, she’s already there and it’s not for me to keep her waiting. You understand don’t you, Sunny?”
“Of course, and it’s the right thing to do, Fritz. All good Scotsmen go home.”
Fritz sat quietly with no disturbance from either Sonya or Willard, who trotted in carrying in his mouth one of the legs from his favorite rubber chicken. The soft patter of rain tapped on the kitchen windowsill, breaking the silence of the room.
“She’s gone home, Sunny, not the dirt hole where they buried her, but her house. Better get cracking on finding her lover, he’s the one she needs to say goodbye to. She won’t budge until that’s been done. Better get her buried, too. When I get back, I promise to help round up her killer. He’s got a mark. They always do.”
Fritz sang a familiar tune as he dematerialized and left on his journey home. Sonya could hear it as if it came from somewhere far away.
By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond,
Where me and my true love were ever wont to go,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond.
O ye'll take the high road, and I'll take the low road,
And I'll be in Scotland afore ye,
But me and my true love are meant to meet again,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond.
The wee birdies sing and the wildflowers spring,
And in sunshine the waters are sleeping.
But the broken heart it can, never second spring again,
Though the woeful may cease from their grieving.
> Sonya listened as the tune faded, becoming indistinct and more like the wind than a song. The last stanza was the most heartbreaking, and she thought about how appropriate the verses were for poor Poppy and her lover, Ryan. They would never be together again on this plane. The best way to give them both peace was to help bring their grieving to an end. Sonya knew what she had to do, and it meant getting sideways with Sheriff Walker. There was no time to wait.
Chapter 21
In May, Missouri can be a delightful place. Cool mornings, followed by warm days, provide the perfect weather for flowering trees like redbuds and crabapples to grow colorful blooms of pink, purple, and white. It was a heady time when all living things took an opportunity to show off their spring finery. They say ‘in spring a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of love’ and this was definitely true of Tommy Kirchner. Since talking with Laney Bodwell on the phone, the deputy had been in a bit of a dither, thinking about Dr. Dempster’s office manager.
He’d found it difficult to keep his mind on his work. What if she was dating someone? This last thought he always tried to banish from his mind with a quick shake of his head. Parking the car in front of Dr. D.’s office, Tommy was careful not to look at himself in the rearview mirror. He didn’t want to look like he was primping. Instead, he used his cell phone’s reverse camera. It looked all good.
“If she is dating someone, fine,” he told himself, realizing he’d spoken out loud and immediately scanning the parking lot to make sure no one saw a Willow Valley officer of the law talking to himself.
“Get it together, man,” he chastised himself mentally.
Opening the car door and reminding himself one more time to act professionally, Tommy grabbed the laptop and the forensic file and shut the door. This time, when he saw the wobbling hair bun shoved through with a pencil, he was ready.
The Ghost in Mr. Pepper's Bed Page 11
