Maybelle's Affair

by Terri Reid

  She sighed softly and nodded. “We’ve returned quite a bit of money,” she explained. “So, if there were only twenty clients, I would think that at least one of those chairs would now be empty. But, since they are all still filled, according to Gilbert, I have a feeling there’s a line out there somewhere and as soon as one chair becomes empty…”

  “There’s another ghost waiting to fill it up,” Bradley replied, nodding. “That makes perfect sense.”

  “The only question that would be good to know is how long the line is,” Dave said. “Is there any way to get access to all of the files, all at once?”

  Mary shrugged. “So far Maybelle has only been willing to hand them to me one at a time,” she said. “But maybe we could convince her to show us the whole stash.”

  “Maybe Gilbert knows,” Alex suggested. “He was the assistant, after all. He probably has a better idea than Maybelle.”

  “I’m assuming Gilbert keeps office hours too,” Dave said.

  “Well, he was here last night,” Bradley inserted, and then he smiled. “Unless he was working overtime.”

  Alex looked over to the sign and then pointed. “Look, they had late nights on Tuesday and Thursday,” Alex said. “He was working overtime.”

  “Well, tomorrow is Thursday,” Dave said. “So, I guess we know when we need to come back for our appointment.”

  Alex nodded. “And in the meantime, we can talk about the murders,” he said.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Ghosts and murders,” Dave said, as they walked down the steps of the mansion to their cars. “You are a fun group to hang around with.”

  “Why don’t we take my cruiser,” Bradley suggested. “The house we’re going to search is now a crime scene, so we’ll be more official.”

  He turned to Mary. “Do we still have enough time?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Mikey should be good for another ninety minutes,” she replied. “And Rosie and Stanley know how to get in touch with me, in case he wakes up early.”

  They drove a few blocks over to a nice little split-level house that was close to the community college. Bradley pulled up into the driveway and parked.

  “I knew people who lived in this area when I was growing up,” Dave said, as he got out of the car and looked around. “It looks like nothing has changed while I was away.”

  Alex nodded, as he stood next to his friend, and looked around too. “You’re right,” Alex said. “But it’s changing now as some of the owners are getting older and moving to assisted living or just smaller houses.”

  “Why do we want everything to stay the same, even though we’re changing?” Dave asked Alex.

  “Because the same is more familiar and therefore, more comfortable,” he replied.

  Dave nodded. “And it makes you feel safe,” Dave added.

  “Safe is just an illusion,” Alex said.

  Dave turned to him. “Well, that’s surprising, coming from you,” he said.

  Alex shook his head. “The more I do my job,” he replied. “The more I realize that the world is a scary place to live.”

  “Hey, are you guys coming?” Bradley called from the concrete porch of the house.

  Dave nodded. “Yeah, sorry, we were just reminiscing a little,” he replied, and he and Alex hurried over to catch up with Mary and Bradley.

  Bradley unlocked the door and turned on the light.

  “Whoa, someone’s done some remodeling,” Dave said.

  “How can you tell?” Mary asked.

  “Smells like new stuff,” Dave said with a smile.

  Mary sniffed the air. “You’re right,” she said. “It does.”

  “Damn right. I spent good money on this place. Wait until you see my leather recliner.”

  Both Mary and Dave turned around to look at the elderly man standing in the middle of the living room. “Hi,” Mary said, moving across the room to put her hand on Bradley’s arm. “I’m Mary.”

  Bradley’s eyes widened when he was able to see the man, and he nodded slowly.

  “These are my friends,” she continued, and then she nodded towards each man as she introduced them. “This is Police Chief Bradley Alden, District Attorney Alex Boettcher, and Dave Reid.”

  The old man looked at Dave and grinned. “No special title for you, young man?” he asked.

  Dave grinned and shrugged. “No, just plain Dave,” he said. “What’s your name?”

  “There’s a ghost is here, right?” Alex whispered to Bradley.

  Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I’m guessing it’s…”

  “Markus Harrington,” the old man replied to Dave. “But you can call me Harry.”

  “Harry,” Dave replied with a smile. “Great nickname.”

  “You got any nicknames?” Harry asked.

  Dave grinned. “Yeah, but none that can be mentioned in mixed company.”

  A shout of laughter erupted from the old man’s lips. “I like you,” he said, once his laughter had died down. “Now, why are you in my home. Did I invite you and forget?”

  A curtain of sadness covered Dave’s eyes, and Mary felt the same sorrow. Harry didn’t know he was dead.

  “Harry,” Mary said softly. “What the last thing you remember doing?”

  Harry stopped and thought for a moment. “Well, now that you mention it,” he said, rubbing his chin with his hand. “I believe I was sitting in my brand-new recliner and enjoying one of those fancy coffee drinks.”

  Dave nodded. “Those are great,” he said. “Then what happened?”

  “I was thinking about how proud Sophie would be of me,” he said.

  “Sophie?” Mary asked, startled to hear the same name Mike had mentioned earlier. “Why would she be proud?”

  He turned to Mary, his eyes filled with memories. “She was my sweetheart,” he said softly. “We would have been married fifty years this June. We worked so hard, but it was okay because we worked together.” He sighed and nodded, pulling out an old handkerchief and wiping his eyes. “Anyhow, I recently got some money, and I found this group that helped me invest it. We meet every day, and they give out these fancy drinks for free. I was thinking that Sophie would get a kick out of her old Harry hanging around with those highfalutin banker types.”

  Dave chuckled. “I bet she would,” he agreed. “So, then what happened.”

  Harry pondered for another moment, and then a look of confusion came over him. “I started getting a pain,” he said slowly. “It was real powerful, shooting up my left arm. And then…” He shook his head. “And then…” He looked up at Dave, and his eyes were wide with shock. “And then I think I died.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I think he’s gone for now,” Dave said, looking around the living room.

  “What do you mean, he’s gone?” Alex asked.

  “Often, when someone doesn’t realize they’re dead, the shock is overwhelming,” Mary said.

  Dave nodded. “And they kind of go away, like licking their wounds, for a while,” he added.

  “But he’ll be back?” Alex asked. “So, we can ask him questions, right?”

  “He should be back,” Mary said.

  “Should be?” Alex asked.

  Mary shrugged. “I don’t know if there are rules and regulations that ghosts are supposed to follow,” she said. “That’s just been my experience in the past.”

  “There need to be rules and regulations,” Alex replied.

  Dave grinned at Mary and then turned to his friend. “Yeah, I’ll see what we can do about that,” he said. “In the meantime, I think we’re probably done for the night. In my experience, Harry isn’t going to be coming back here until tomorrow.”

  Bradley nodded. “Let’s go back to our place and just look at what we’ve got so far,” he suggested.

  “Good idea,” Dave agreed, as they left the house and walked back down the steps toward the cruiser. “I’d like to hear more about these murders.”

  “At this point,” Bradley said. “
It’s more of an exploration than anything else. It’s just a hunch…”

  “It’s more than a hunch,” Mary interrupted.

  They stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Really?” Bradley asked. “How?”

  “When Mike was in discussions to get my abilities back, he said someone else was also asking for me to get them,” Mary said. “Her name was Sophie, and she said that her husband had been murdered.”

  “Yeah, I guess that would move it from a hunch,” Alex said, shaking his head. “Just don’t ask me to use that testimony in court.”

  Mary smiled and nodded. “I promise,” she agreed. “But now we need to discover why anyone would want to murder a sweet old man like Harry.”

  Dave nodded, his face grim. “And we need for them to pay for it,” he added.

  Bradley opened the car door for Mary and helped her in. Then after shutting her door, he looked across the car to where Dave stood. He appreciated Dave’s anger towards the unknown assailants and his determination to make them pay. He met Dave’s eyes and nodded slowly. “I think I’m going to like working with you,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Dave replied, meeting Bradley’s gaze directly. “I know that admission doesn’t come lightly.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Bradley admitted.

  “I get it,” Dave said. “You’ve got a family to protect, first and foremost. That’s a top priority.”

  Inside the car, Mary turned around to look at Alex. “What are they doing out there?” she asked.

  “Male bonding,” he replied with a smile.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I think Bradley has finally figured out he can trust Dave and he’s letting him know,” Alex said.

  “Why wouldn’t he trust Dave?” Mary asked. “He’s a good guy. Anyone can see that.”

  Alex shook his head. “Bradley’s priority is protecting you and his family,” he said. “He’s going to be slow to trust anyone he doesn’t know, especially where you’re concerned.”

  Mary sighed and rolled her eyes. “I can take care of myself,” she replied.

  “Well, yeah, I know that, and you know that,” he said. “And deep down inside, I think Bradley knows that. But he still has this primitive need to protect the people he loves.”

  “I guess that’s a good thing,” she admitted.

  Alex nodded. “Yeah, it’s a very good thing.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Mary jogged down the stairs the next morning, showered, dressed and ready for the day. She felt amazing. For the first time, Mikey had slept through the night, and she got a full seven hours of uninterrupted sleep.

  “I can do anything today,” she exclaimed as she walked into the living room.

  Bradley looked up from his computer and smiled at her. “You look great.”

  “I feel great,” she admitted. “Mikey slept through the night and so did I. I’m pretty much ready to take on the world.”

  “Well, we probably won’t be taking on the world,” Bradley said. “But we’re going to be meeting in about an hour about Harry’s death.”

  “So, about that,” she said. “Are you going to be here at the house until everyone comes?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, there’s no use in me going to the office. Why?”

  “I thought I could run across the street for a little while,” she said. “Check out the waiting room and see if I can get Maybelle to release any more files.”

  “You want to do that alone?” he asked, surprised.

  “Well, if you’re okay with it, Mike can come with me,” she said. “Mikey’s sound asleep and will be for at least a couple of hours.”

  Bradley shrugged. “Sure, no problem.”

  She hurried across the room, gave him a quick kiss and then grabbed her coat. “Okay, I’m off!” she said.

  He nodded. “Yep. I knew that one already,” he teased. “But I still love you.”

  “Funny. Funny,” Mary replied and then she chuckled. “Good one.”

  She hurried across the street and paused for a moment in front of the wrought iron gate. “Mike,” she whispered. “Mike, are you around?”

  Mike appeared next to her. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked with a yawn. “You’re up early this morning making pancakes for Clarissa, dancing along with the radio, and now you’re ready to go ghost-hunting. Are you back on caffeine?”

  She grinned. “Nope, I had a whole, entire night’s sleep last night,” she said with a wide smile. “And I feel amazing. So, ready to go hunt some ghosts?”

  He shrugged and smiled back. “How could I resist?”

  They entered the gate and then walked up the steps. They both waited for a moment on the top step, and when the door didn’t open on its own, Mary nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”

  “You weren’t talking,” Mike pointed out.

  She turned to him. “It’s an expression,” she said. “It means something like; I showed you.”

  “But you didn’t show anyone anything,” he inserted.

  “Mike,” she replied sharply. “Let’s not ruin the good mood, okay?”

  “Yes ma’am,” he responded with a soft chuckle.

  Turning to him, she stuck out her tongue and then pulled the key out of her pocket.

  “I’m glad we’re being professional here,” he commented drily.

  She giggled. “There’s professional, and there’s professional,” she said.

  “And then there’s you,” Mike added.

  Still laughing, they entered the house together, and their laughter immediately stopped. The parlor door was wide open, and the room was crammed with the spirits of the investors, waiting to see Mr. Finders.

  “This isn’t what I wanted to see,” Mary said.

  “Yeah, but it’s what you expected, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Let’s go see if we can find Gilbert,” she suggested.

  They walked into the parlor, and all eyes turned to them. They looked like regular middle-class residents of Freeport, but they also all still looked the way they had when they died.

  “Farming accident,” Mike whispered to her when they passed one man who looked like his middle had been run over by a very large tire.

  “Drowning,” Mary whispered back when they passed a woman who was dripping wet, with seaweed hanging from her clothing and a complexion of purple-blue.

  They quickly hurried past the assembled group and grabbed hold of the doorknob to the office.

  “Wait,” one portly ghost in a business suit and tie called out, pulling a thick cigar from his mouth. “It isn’t your turn.”

  Mary opened her mouth, then closed it and turned to Mike.

  “Auditors,” Mike said to the man.

  “About damn time,” the man said with satisfaction, then he nodded and popped the cigar back in place.

  “Quick thinking,” Mary whispered, as they went into the office.

  “I was trying to think of something scary enough to frighten a ghost,” he replied softly.

  Mary nodded. “That would do it.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Gilbert sat at the old desk in the office, slowly and deliberately looking down the columns of an old ledger book, a wooden pencil clutched in his hand.

  “Gilbert?” Mary asked once they’d closed the door behind them. “Are you the only one in here?”

  Startled, he dropped the pencil and stared at them.

  “I didn’t hear you,” he stammered and then his eyes widened. “You can’t come in here. The others will follow.”

  “We told them we were auditors,” Mary replied, trying to calm down the ghost. “It seemed to work.”

  Taking his spectacles off his nose, he wiped on them with a handkerchief and shook his head. “If they find out that Mr. Finders isn’t here and I’m the only one in the office,” he whispered. “Something awful will happen.”

  “What will happen?” Mary asked.

  “Yeah, you’re already dead,” Mike added.


  Gilbert placed his glasses back on his face and slowly shook his head. “They will be very, very angry with me,” he said, his voice shaking. “And I can’t handle that kind of confrontation.”

  “You’re afraid of confrontation?” Mike asked. “That’s it?”

  “You may think it’s no big deal,” he said. “But I don’t want to take the blame for something I had nothing to do with.”

  Mary shook her head. “You had nothing to do with this?” she asked skeptically. “I thought you worked with Mr. Finders. Aren’t you a part of this whole scheme?”

  He shook his head. “No! No, I told him what he was doing was wrong,” he insisted. “I told him that we betrayed their trust.”

  “Then why didn’t you stop him?” Mary asked.

  He dropped his head and looked down at the ledger on the table. “I can’t answer that,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I just can’t.”

  “You can’t, or you won’t?” Mike asked.

  Gilbert didn’t look up. “I can’t,” he whispered.

  Mike look at Mary and shook his head. “What now?”

  Mary studied Gilbert for a long moment and then looked closely at the ledger. In the lower corner, where the yellowed pages were slipped into the leather case, several hearts had been doodled with a pencil. Then she remembered Gilbert’s reaction to Maybelle in her dream. She smiled slowly and then shrugged. “Well, I guess we’ll have to get Maybelle involved in all of this mess,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “I mean, after all, she is the Finders heir.”

  Gilbert looked up, his ghostly face even paler, his face shaking so rapidly that his glasses slid down his nose and landed on the ledger. “No. No, you can’t involve Miss Maybelle,” he exclaimed. “She had nothing, absolutely nothing to do with this scandal.”

  “And if she had, the scandal would have ruined her,” Mary said. “Isn’t that correct, Gilbert.”

  His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. “I didn’t say that,” he finally stammered.

  Mary shook her head. “No, you didn’t,” she agreed. “But that’s the truth, isn’t it? And that’s what Mr. Finders held over your head when you wanted to tell the truth. If you brought him down, he’d make sure that Maybelle went down with him.”