by Rose Pressey
“Oh. My. God. I’ve been dying to investigate Maple Hill Road for a long time. No pun intended. My brother and I used to walk by and look for ghosts when we were kids. He said it wasn’t haunted, but I knew it was. So, when do we get in?”
“As soon as you want. Preferably soon, because I’ve already felt cold spots and heard footsteps. Construction will start soon, so you know things will pick up then.”
“Have you researched the history of the home? If you find out what happened, then maybe you can discover who’s haunting it. Then you can possibly find out why. I bet there’s some tragic story associated with the house.”
“I haven’t researched yet. If there is some juicy history, we’d probably know by now.”
“Remember the big case in Bowling Green? The ghost of the mother was hanging around, looking for her baby. As soon as we told her she was dead, poof, the activity stopped.”
“That was a good one.” I steered down Ivy Lane, past my old high school. Glad those days were over.
“That’s so cool, Alabama, I didn’t know you knew anything about houses.”
“Yes, of course. It goes hand in hand with being an interior decorator.”
Not necessarily true, but it sounded good, anyway.
“I’m anxious to see the place. How about tomorrow morning at ten? I have something to do at night”
“Perfect. We can do a mini-investigation to start. Do you think the guys can make it? You’ll call them for me? I’m headed to Lacey’s house now. She’ll abandon me if I don’t stop by.”
“Sure, I’ll find out. Tell Lacey hello.”
One more call on my list before I made my way to the courthouse, then Lacey’s. I pulled over in the nearest parking lot and fished the number from my purse.
“Hello, Carolyn? This is Alabama Hargrove. We met at Suzie’s.”
I wanted to know more about the mysterious Carolyn Flanagan.
“Hi there, Alabama. How are you?”
“Great. And you?” She was being polite. I couldn’t unload all my worries on her. Heck, now that I’d called, I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m good. Hey, how about coming over for supper tonight? I’ll fix us a delightful dinner. I want you to meet my hunky husband and my nephew.”
Wow. She saved me from an awkward conversation. Going to her home would give be the perfect opportunity to discover more about Carolyn. But why did I get an uneasy feeling when she mentioned her nephew? Another stranger in town.
“That sounds perfect. What time should I be there?”
“How does six-thirty sound? Any later and my husband gets cranky.” She laughed.
“Sounds great, I can’t wait.”
She gave me the directions to her farm and I clicked off. My insides did a happy dance at the prospect of not cooking. Plus, since Lacey was on the crutches and not able to go up stairs well, Carolyn may just fit the psychic bill—the perfect solution for my haunted house problems. As if fate had sent her.
As I made my way down Lacey’s street, my phone rang again. Carolyn must have forgotten to tell me something. Unknown caller was displayed across the screen.
Hmmm. Weird.
I picked up the phone, then pressed the talk button. “Hello?”
The line was silent.
“Hello,” I said again into the phone this time sternly.
A long breath escaped from the other end. I smashed the off button and tossed the phone down on the passenger seat. The breathy noise echoed in my head, sending a chill down my spine. Probably kids playing a prank, I reasoned. I shook off the call and headed into the historic stone building. Its intricate cornices and stained windows gave it an almost gothic feel. After a few trips down each hallway in the building with several people providing misguided information, I located the office I needed.
Forty minutes later, I had my permit. Reed would never know about my little fib. Easy peasy. Clutching the paper in my hands made me feel as if I were that much closer to accomplishing my goal. I spun the car in the opposite direction and within a couple of minutes pulled up in front of Lacey’s craftsman.
Chapter Sixteen
She met me at the door.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“I’m okay. It’s feeling better already. I’m ready to lose the crutches.”
“Don’t rush it.”
I stepped into Lacey’s living room. It looked like a page from a Pottery Barn catalogue. Lots of sunlight filtered through the windows, mixing with the sage and beige tones. I helped select the color scheme for most of the rooms. We’d spent all last summer redecorating, while Rob complained about the amount of money Lacey spent.
“How about I make some coffee?” I asked.
“I already made it. I just can’t carry the mugs.”
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
She shrugged.
I slipped into the kitchen to retrieve the coffee. Lacey trudged behind me, the clank of her crutches echoing across the room. I poured the coffee as Lacey got comfortable at the kitchen table. As comfortable as she could be with her leg propped in a chair. I handed her a steaming mug.
“So you got someone to help with the house?” she asked after taking a sip.
I took a drink and looked down at my mug. “Um, not exactly.”
“What about hot neighbor with the hammer?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
She smiled. “I’d have him over there repairing my plumbing faster than you can say plumbing.”
“You’re seriously disturbed. What about your husband?” I grinned.
“I can convince him to share me.”
“I’m not even going to ask for you to explain your logic.”
“Who are you gonna ask for help?” She took a drink.
“I’ll find someone, don’t worry.” Not meeting her gaze, I scooped more sugar from the bowl and dumped it in my mug.
“Don’t wait too long. You know a bright patch of sunshine isn’t going to appear with a path to lead your way.”
I didn’t answer as I stirred my coffee.
“So, I met this lady at Sweet Suzie’s, right?”
Lacey nodded. “Yeah.”
“She claims to be psychic.”
Lacey scoffed. “Oh, Bama. Lots of people claim that.”
“I know, but here’s the thing, she seemed real.”
Lacey’s right eyebrow rose. “So there’s a new psychic in town.”
“I suppose.” She wasn’t going to like this next bit of info. “She invited me to dinner tonight. I thought it might be good to ask her about the ghosts in the house.”
“I told you I can help.” Lacey frowned.
“I know, I know. I just want your ankle to get better and those stairs are killer. You can’t climb them right now.”
“Whatever you say.” Lacey looked down at the newspaper on the table and remained silent, so I changed the subject.
An hour later and full of coffee and gossip, I jumped back in my car. All that was left for me to do was a trip to the grocery, then home to change before meeting Carolyn and company.
As I cruised through the historic district, I passed by Sweet Suzie’s. Suzie stood in front, unloading boxes from her car. I turned my Volvo around and pulled up beside her. She didn’t notice, so I honked my horn.
“Hi.” I rolled my window down.
“Hi, darlin’. What brings you by today?”
“Errands.” I frowned. “I saw you out and thought I’d say hello. How’s business?”
“I got new stock in, so there are lots of boxes to unpack.” She frowned.
“I’m on my way to the grocery,” I offered. I’d rather unpack her boxes then make a trip down the supermarket aisle. I’d never enjoyed that task.
She set a box down on the sidewalk and walked over to my car. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m all right, I suppose. Did you get those candle holders in that I asked about?”
“I expe
ct them next week. We’re a little slow to get deliveries around here.”
“Oh, good. I didn’t really expect you to get them so soon. I’ll stop by next week then, maybe Thursday. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.”
“Alabama, there’s something I need to tell you.” She leaned close to my window. “My daughter’s boyfriend is a Rosewood police officer.” She paused. “He said they have a list of persons of interest.”
Not surprising considering what I’d heard of Payne Cooper. He hadn’t appeared the most likeable person in town.
“Really?” I said, trying to sound somewhat surprised. “Did he tell you who they were?”
Her face was solemn. “As a matter of fact, he did. He wasn’t supposed to share details with anyone, so please don’t say anything. I just wanted you to know… Um…,” she stammered. “You haven’t been ruled out as a suspect,” she blurted out.
“What! So I am a suspect, or person of interest, or whatever the heck they call it. They’re interested in me all right, interested in taking me to jail. It’s crazy. Why would I kill the man? I didn’t even know him. I could never kill anyone—I don’t even like killing ants.” I fought back tears.
“Oh, honey, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought you should know…if you didn’t already.” She patted my shoulder.
“Suzie, I’m sorry.” I wiped my eyes. “Don’t worry about me. You did the right thing by telling me. Sticking my head in the sand won’t make the situation go away. I want to know.”
“You aren’t the only suspect, by any means.” She leaned in closer.
“Who else?” I asked, hoping she would tell me.
“For one…his business partner. He’s a silent partner in the company, his name is Ron Spencer. Then there was the custodian, Nick Patterson.”
“Really?” I asked. “I didn’t know he had a partner. He wasn’t at the closing.” I sniffled.
She shrugged her shoulders. “There’s another name…Mrs. Cooper.” Her eyebrow arched.
“Oh, my God. She called me this morning. Can you believe it?” I pulled a tissue from my purse and wiped my nose.
“What in heaven’s sake for?”
“She wants me to decorate her house.” I rolled my eyes.
“The day after her husband was murdered?”
I nodded. “I thought the same thing, but I’m serious. She said she got my name and number from a detective, which I find kind of odd.”
“Odd is an understatement. She’s nuttier than a can of mixed nuts.”
I chuckled. “I’m quickly discovering that. Thanks for telling me everything, Suzie. Most people wouldn’t be as kind as you are.”
“No problem, darlin’.” She patted my arm again. “Don’t worry they’ll find the killer in no time at all. I don’t think they seriously suspect you. Heck, Payne had a temper from what I’ve heard. There’s no telling who killed him.”
“Thanks, I hope you’re right.”
Should I call a lawyer? Tears ran down my cheeks again. No, they hadn’t arrested me. Suspects weren’t arrested. Until they did, I’d continue with what I was doing. I rolled up the window and watched her walk away. As I pulled off, I waved goodbye. I didn’t feel like grocery shopping now. That’s one way to lose those extra five pounds, become a murder suspect. Or, “person of interest.”
Blinking through my tears, I pointed the car toward Maple Hill Road. After a couple of miles, I reached a difficult section of the highway. A big yellow sign with a winding arrow came into view making me grip the wheel a little tighter. I eased my foot off the gas when I reached a curvy section of the road, navigating through the twists and turns.
A loud rumble from another car engine caught my attention. When I glanced in my rearview mirror, a blue sedan followed so closely I felt as if I was towing it. Any nearer and the car would have been in my backseat. My speedometer read twenty-five. With the posted speed limit of twenty, I was already driving over the limit. The street was two lanes with no shoulder, so I couldn’t move over. The vehicle sped along behind me. Too close for comfort.
Thoughts swirled in my mind. A lump the size of a boulder formed in my throat. Sweat trickled on my forehead. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I pounded my foot on the accelerator, hoping to put some distance between us. It looked like the same car that had tried to run me down. The darn tinted windows blocked my view of the driver. The make of the car wasn’t discernible.
As I steered the car around a curve, the mysterious sedan continued its pursuit. I didn’t think it was a coincidence that these strange events started after I had found Payne Cooper. I’d lose control of my car if I sped up. Maple Hill Road was near, if I could make it there, I’d be safe.
Another small curve appeared and I maneuvered around it. My hands ached from clutching the steering wheeling so tightly. I glanced in the mirror for the hundredth time, then the car bumped mine from behind—hard. My head lurched forward, narrowly missing the steering wheel and I swerved. My car left the road, bounced over the sidewalk and onto a lawn. My poor Volvo was still moving at a decent speed, although I’d lifted my foot off the accelerator. I jammed both feet on the brake and careened to the left before coming to a screeching halt, landing in a line of shrubs.
Chapter Seventeen
My thoughts whirled and my mind was dazed. The blue mass of steel and chrome zoomed past in a blur. I whipped my head to the side and glanced over my shoulder for a better view of the car, but all I managed to make out of the license plate was one letter. Better than nothing. I needed to get the heck out of there before my pursuer returned. Of all the luck, I landed in someone’s yard. It could have been worse, I supposed. I might have ended up in a ditch. The yard was large—maybe an acre—and I’d just missed the two deer statues. The older stone house was surrounded by similar homes, all with the same spacious acreage. As I tried to remain calm, I twisted the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. I twisted again. This time, my car roared to life. The old clunker may not be much to look at, but it came through when I needed it.
Thoughts of the maniac driver returning played in my head. I needed to hightail it out of there. The driveway of the small ranch house whose lawn I occupied was empty and a large dog barked at me from the fenced-in backyard. I’d come back later to pay for the mailbox and the damage done to the landscaping. It didn’t look as if anyone was home, anyway.
Glancing back again, I didn’t spot the hostile driver. In fact, no cars were in sight. I switched on the windshield wipers to knock the twig fixed across my window off, and slowly steered back out onto the road. I punched the gas and headed for Maple Hill as fast as I could legally go. Maybe I should have driven to the police station and filed a report, but the mini mansion was closer. And my legs shook too badly to drive too far. But, thank goodness, I was still alive and not bloody and broken in a crumpled up car. Things could have turned out horribly wrong if I had not veered off the road.
Within a few minutes, I pulled into the driveway. Reed sat on his front porch, sipping from a coffee mug. When he noticed me, he stood, placing his hand above his eyes to block the glare from the sun and get a better view. A look of astonishment spread across his face. How badly did I damage my car? His eyes grew wide as he placed his cup down and stepped from his porch. He saw me watching him and pointed to the car, shrugged his shoulders, and held out his hands.
“What the hell happened?” he mouthed.
Not only was my car wrecked on one side, but now I had managed to smash the front, as well. The red paint gave way to visible metal. It had its fair share of scratches in other areas, too. I shut off the ignition and clambered out, glancing over my shoulder for the blue sedan. My hands still shook. I was pretty sure my cheeks were flushed from the stress.
“You’ve got an extra dent or two,” Reed said. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” His gaze was on me, I felt it, but I walked past, never returning his stare. “I hit a mailbox.” I hurried down the ston
e pathway.
As I reached the veranda, I glanced back. All right, I didn’t last long, but with a smile like his, who could blame me?
Reed stood in the middle of his lawn with his mouth agape, trying to form words. Nothing came out. He glanced from me to the car and back again.
Finally, he asked, “How did it happen? Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine, but I’m a lousy driver.” I sifted through my purse for the house key.
“I can’t help it, I’ve always been bad. I barely passed the driving test,” I said matter-of-factly.
My purse overflowed and I couldn’t spot the key. I knelt down on the porch and emptied the contents, sorting through until I finally retrieved it. I needed to add it to my car keychain to avoid this scenario in the future.
“You know this porch would be great for some rocking chairs.”
As I stood, I turned to find Reed standing on the porch at the edge of the steps. He nearly took my breath away. I hadn’t expected him to join me. I gave him a long look. “Yes, it would.” I smiled.
He leaned on the large porch pillar and folded his arms across his chest. He wore the usual jeans and a T-shirt. “This porch is great. I could see spending every evening out here. Listening to the birds and enjoying the breeze.” He gazed out into the distance.
His sexy drawl drew me into his vision; me sitting on a rocker beside Reed, the breeze caressing my face. I’d get lost in Reed’s smile. We’d rock in the chairs side by side until the stars appeared, and then we’d retire to the…okay, that fantasy had quickly gotten out of hand.
“Here’s the estimate.” He stretched his muscular arm toward me and startled me out of my reverie.
I took the folded piece of paper, but my thoughts wandered to what it would feel like to touch his tanned, toned arm.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome. Just give me a call when you decide.”
I nodded. “I will.” My knees felt like rubber around him. No way. I would find another handyman tomorrow. He wouldn’t do. Someone could do just as good a job, maybe better, and not cause distractions, either.
