by Rose Pressey
Oversized leather chairs sat in a half-dozen groupings with four in each space, all with a large round coffee table in the middle. Trendy paintings hung on every wall. Modern art, I suppose, but looked like wiggly lines on canvas to me.
A couple of old ladies sat in the corner. Both had the same gray helmet hairstyle. Their scowls deepened as I made my way across the room. One wore a deep pink blouse and matching pants, while the other sported a lighter shade of pink outfit. Pink and even more pink. They stared, their mouths hanging open slightly. I watched them, and continued my trek to the counter.
My chest met with metal and wood.
“Crap,” I bellowed.
I stumbled and grabbed the edge of the stand.
A bit dazed from my collision with a rack of the shops finest selection of coffees and mugs, I righted myself and exhaled. From the other side of the room a round of laughter fell on my ears. I shot an evil glare in the direction of the group of teenagers. They looked the other way. The old ladies gave me a disapproving shake of their heads. For my foul language, I assumed. I straightened my clothes and pressed forward.
A smile greeted me. “Hi.”
A lady round as she was tall with very blonde hair tied up high in a bun watched me. Her bright red lipstick bled into the wrinkles around her mouth. Her fingernails coordinated with the lip color.
“May I help you?” she asked.
”Yes, ma’am—”
“No, young lady. You can call me Doris. Everyone here calls me Doris.” She scolded with the wave of her crimson fingernail.
“All right, Doris, I’m Alabama Har—”
“Oh, I know who you are.” She chuckled.
Everyone in town knew me—too bad the reason wasn’t a good one.
“Carolyn Flanagan told me all about you. By the way she described you, I knew you as soon as you walked in the door.”
I gave a half-hearted smile and glanced over my shoulder at the pink twins. They stared back.
“Don’t pay attention to those two. They love to gossip.”
“Oh. That would explain it then.” I nodded and turned for another look. Their gaze didn’t falter. I waved, then they jerked their attention away.
Doris laughed. “You’re learning.”
I giggled.
I liked Doris right away. She was full of spunk.
“Can I get you a coffee?”
Suzie’s words echoed in my mind. A large chalkboard menu hung high on the wall and I glanced up at the selection. I spotted apple cider on the board.
“I’ll take a hot apple cider, please.”
“One apple cider coming up.”
She turned and, in one fluid motion, grabbed a cup.
“Doris?” I paused, searching for the right words.
“Yes?” She paused.
“Have you seen Carolyn today?”
“As a matter of fact, I haven’t.”
My heart sank. Something was definitely amiss.
“I’m surprised, I expected to see her. The other day I ran in to her and she said she’d stop by today. But then again, she may have gotten busy and not had the time.”
“I’m not so sure, Doris.” I took the hot cup from her. “I went by her farm earlier and she wasn’t there. I just have a funny feeling something may be wrong.”
“Have you talked to her husband?”
I handed her cash.
“No, he’s out of town. At least, that’s what Carolyn said the last time I talked with her.”
“I have his cell phone number if you’d like to give him a call.”
“Yes, I would. That would be great.”
She grabbed a pen and scribbled the number on the back of a receipt. I slipped it into my purse. I’d give him a call soon.
“Thank you so much, Doris. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“You’re welcome. I wrote my number down on the paper with Frank’s, as well. Could you give me a call when you find her? Or tell her to call me?”
“Sure thing. Thanks again.”
I lifted my cup up in a thank you motion and turned to leave. I eased around the deadly rack. The old ladies watched again and I waved goodbye. They raised their snooty brows and whispered again.
A wave of anticipation took over as I drove toward Maple Hill Road. Reed would be hard at work. Progress. And I was still spinning like a hamster on a wheel. My cell rang, snapping me from my musings. I struggled to reach my phone from my pocket. Reed’s number popped up—and no, I didn’t have it memorized—I programmed it in. I prayed nothing was wrong with the house. Why else would he call?
“Hello.” Why did I sound like Marilyn Monroe? Business phone call—nothing more.
“Where are you?” He rushed his words.
“Wow, thanks for the friendly greeting. I had a few errands. What’s wrong?”
“Uncle Oscar—that’s what’s wrong.”
“Uh-oh. What’s wrong with my uncle? Is he all right?” I panicked.
“Define all right? Physically, yes. Mentally, the jury is still out.”
“What? Why would you say such thing?” I turned a corner.
“Never mind that. Just please come here now.” His voice rose.
“Excuse me. Don’t tell me what to do.” I huffed.
“You’re right. You’re right. I’ll ask again. Calmly this time. Would you please come and get your uncle out of here?” His tone was as sweet as honey.
“That’s more like it. I’m coming home right now. And do try to calm down.”
He snorted. “See you soon.”
I headed for Maple Hill Road, dreading what waited for me. What the heck had Uncle Oscar done this time? After hanging up with Reed, I dialed Lacey’s number.
“The guy at Nick Patterson’s apartment said Payne Cooper’s wife had been there. I think Nick and Julia are involved in her husband’s murder,” I said without saying hello.
“What? Why in the hell are you over there? Have you lost your mind? This sleuthing business is out of hand. Do I need to watch you twenty-four hours a day? Damn these crutches.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“I’m not even going to comment on that. Have you shared this little tidbit with the police?”
I didn’t say a word for several seconds, then finally, I said. “Have you met Sheriff Bass?”
“Um, okay, point taken. That’s it, after class, I’m coming over there.”
“No, way. You’re busy. You have papers to grade and stuff.”
“I have time.”
“I’m getting another call, gotta go.”
“You are no—”
I clicked the phone off. If the killer didn’t kill me, Lacey would. She hated when I hung up on her.
Before I put away the phone, I tried Carolyn’s number again. It rang and rang, but still no answer. Maybe she fell at her house? No, her car hadn’t been there. Maybe she had an accident? Why was I so worried about her? She was a grown woman—more than capable of taking care of herself. She had plans for the day, that’s all. Maybe she went to be with Frank? After all, she did say she was missing him badly. I needed to stop jumping to conclusions and assuming the worst. But something just didn’t seem right. Call it a gut instinct, I guess.
Chapter Thirty-Five
When I pulled in the driveway, Reed greeted me at the Volvo door. Uncle Oscar followed close behind. Men stood by the porch; I’d never seen them before, but figured they were Mr. Fix-It’s helpers. Reed opened my car door, and then stepped back allowing me room to get out. He crossed his arms in front of his chest as he waited for me to step out from behind the wheel. At any moment, I expected him to say, Lucy, you’ve got some splainin’ to do!
“What’s going on?” I looked at Uncle Oscar. He stood in from of me with a worried look across his face. His pudgy face softened the lines around his eyes, concealing his age. “Are you all right?”
He nodded. “Fine, Bama.”
“Is he all right? I’m the one who was stranded on the r
oof for two hours.”
I covered my smile with my hand. “You were stuck on the roof?”
“For two hours.” He looked toward the house. “Two hours.” He felt up two fingers.
“Couldn’t you call for help?”
“My phone was in my truck.” His lips thinned.
“You should keep your phone in your pocket.” I snickered.
“I’m sorry, Bama. I didn’t realize anyone was up there.” Uncle Oscar brushed his tufts of hair back over the bald spot.
Reed turned to him. “The ladder wasn’t a clue?”
“I’d never do something like that on purpose.” He looked at me.
“It was a mistake. You all right now, Reed?” My grin widened.
Reed cracked a smile. One side of his mouth twitched, but he wanted to laugh, I could tell.
“What happened?” I placed an arm around Uncle Oscar. His puffy jacket made a swoosh sound as I squeezed.
“The ladder was in front of the spigot I needed to reach, so I took it down.”
“Well, now, that is unfortunate,” I said.
I headed for the porch with Reed and Oscar right on my heels. All I heard was blah, blah, and blah as they bickered. I tried to tune them out, but they moved with me inside the house. I needed a cookie, chocolate, or liquor. Perhaps, all three.
“I thought you learned your lesson with Max?” Reed asked, as I leaned against the wall. “You need licensed workers.”
“I don’t think I hired you to insult me all day long,” I spat.
“Insult you? I’m just trying to give you shrewd advice.” He measured his words.
“Maybe you should butt out.” I glared at him.
He blew out a breath, then raked his hand through his hair. We bickered worse than an old married couple.
After a moment of silence, I asked, “How’d you get down?”
He cut his gaze to my uncle. “I finally got his attention when he removed his iPod headphones.”
“I really am sorry, Bama,” Uncle Oscar said again.
“That’s all right, stop apologizing. You didn’t know.” I patted his hand.
“By the way.” I looked at Reed. “Have you talked with your aunt?”
“No, why?”
“I’ve tried calling her repeatedly and she never answers. I even went to the cabin and she wasn’t there.”
“Carolyn’s been known to wander around to different little towns looking for antiques. I’m sure she’s fine.”
“I suppose.” I shrugged.
Something told me she hadn’t wandered off, but I didn’t know her like her own family did, so who was I to question?
“I gotta get home now. Do you want me to come back?” Uncle Oscar asked.
“Yes, of course. You’re my favorite uncle.” I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed.
Never mind I hardly ever saw my other uncles. I looked at Reed and smirked. My house—my employees. I’d hire whomever I wanted.
Uncle Oscar trudged away, leaving me alone with Reed. I moved into the dining room and Reed followed. Moving over to the window, I watched as my uncle hopped in his old white van and pulled out of the drive. When I didn’t have the excuse of watching him anymore, I turned away from the window and picked at the chipping paint.
“Alabama?”
I spun around. “What?”
“Sorry about your uncle. He kind of caught me off guard.” He grinned.
“It was funny.” I smiled.
His grin widened, then he laughed. “Yeah, it was funny.” His gaze traveled the length of my body, lingering over the cleavage that my black sweater provided. My heart sped up. “You look beautiful.”
I glanced down at my jeans and sneakers. Obviously, he saw something I didn’t. When I looked up again Reed stood in front of me. My emotions spiked and I swallowed the lump in my throat. He leaned in, placing his hands above me against the wall. My heart pounded and my insides quivered from the tension.
He looked me straight in the eyes. “Alabama, you are sassy, hardheaded, stubborn, and adorable. Since the first day I saw you, I can’t get you out of my head. I don’t know what made you decide to flip this house, or why you hunt ghosts, but I certainly would like to find out.”
He pressed his lips on mine. Reed kissed me and I let him. His lips were warm and soft and he sent a tingle down my body. I wrapped my arms around his waist and let the moment linger. He let out a soft sound, then lifted his lips from mine. After receiving the best kiss I’d ever had, I stared at him. Without notice, he turned and walked out, not saying another word. I heard the click of the front door.
I stood frozen for what seemed like an eternity. A roar from outside made me move. On autopilot, I walked to my car—Reed was nowhere in sight—hopped in and took off. His truck was gone.
***
I called Frank and he confirmed he hadn’t spoken with Carolyn. The worry in his voice broke my heart. I hated that he had to deal with something like this. He said he’d call Sheriff Bass, but I decided to, as well.
“Sheriff Bass?” I asked sweetly.
Maybe I’d catch more bees that way.
“Oh…not again. What is it this time?”
I could avoid calling the police when it came to suspicions about murder suspects, but this was serious. The police were supposed to help, or was I imagining that? This guy didn’t like me, or he didn’t like anyone, I wasn’t sure which. Perhaps I shouldn’t take it personally—he’s probably just grumpy with everyone.
“I want to report someone missing.”
“Strange things seem to happen a lot lately where you’re involved. What not another dead body? Or perhaps another stalker?”
Okay, the guy truly was a jerk.
“No, my friend is missing.” I let out a sharp lungful of breath.
“And who’s your friend?”
“I think you know her, Carolyn Flanagan.”
“Yeah, I’m on a bowling league with Frank. Good guy.”
I couldn’t believe he actually admitted to liking someone. Guess it was maybe only me he wasn’t fond of, after all.
“I haven’t heard from Carolyn and I’m worried.”
“Just because you haven’t spoken to her doesn’t mean anything is wrong. Maybe she’s avoiding your calls.” He snorted.
“Yeah, that’s probably it,” I snapped.
He really did burn me up.
“What makes you think she is missing?” His undertone of meaning was unmistakable.
“Nothing for sure I guess, just a fee—”
“Look, Ms. Hargrove, I am way too busy to take calls from people who have a ‘feeling’ something is wrong. Now if she was missing don’t you think Frank would call me?”
“That’s the thing, Frank is out of town, and I just talked to him. He hasn’t spoken to her either. He is really worried, too.”
“Well, I suppose Frank needs to give me a call himself.” His tone changed.
“I’ll tell him to give you a call, but I think he’s going to anyway.”
“As a matter of fact, Ms. Hargrove, that’s Frank calling on the other line now.” The line went dead. He hung up without as much as a good-bye. He lacked manners—a gorilla had more.
That night, after a stern lecture from Lacey about letting the police handle the murder, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned. After an hour awake in bed, I decided to go to the house on Maple Hill Road. I could work and maybe then, I’d be so tired I’d want to sleep.
Beneath the immense black canopy, filled with tiny twinkling lights, I felt small and insignificant. The half-moon light cast creepy shadows around the yard. A tingling shiver ran up my arms. It felt as if someone may be behind me, but when I turned around, no one was there. The idea someone watched me grew stronger, so I raced toward the house. As I rushed up the steps, I noticed a light on at Reed’s. There was no way I wanted him to know I was there. With the door safely closed behind me, I walked through the bottom floor of the house, guided only by the light f
rom the kitchen. I hadn’t made a lot of progress on the place. Uncle Oscar took out the old sinks, I noticed. Reed was working on the roof and I’d stripped wallpaper from the dining room, plus repaired the wall. There was a lot to do still.
My stomach sank at the thought of not being able to sell the place. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have spent every penny I owned—and some of my parents’ cash—on this project. Sometimes you have to take chances, though. At least, that’s what I tried telling myself to soothe my nerves. I prayed luck would be on my side for this one. As I walked through the dining room into the parlor, a strange sensation took over. A feeling as if someone watched me. Had the ghost returned? After encountering the spirit several times, I’d started to recognize the energy change when he came around, but in a way, this time felt different. I stood in the middle of the room, thinking back to the first day I saw this place. Had I been naïve or just plain stupid?
A cold chill engulfed the room and my breath whipped in front of me. The air outside was nippy, but not as cold as it was in that room. Nights were getting cooler, but not that freezing. The brisk air was just enough for a sweater and warm liquids to thaw your insides. The foyer remained shrouded in darkness. A single ray of light from the kitchen shone across the floor. I wasn’t sure at first what lured me to the room, but something beckoned me to look in the direction of the door.
Chapter Thirty-Six
At first, the misty form appeared as a blob. The same shape I’d seen before, but it was no longer merely a mist or a shadowy form. This time the spirit appeared, he took on a human-like shape, and soon he had a face. Actual features appeared, although somewhat translucent. Since I was a kid, the paranormal had fascinated me, now I was getting more than my share of it. It was hard to grasp what I was seeing.
Dressed in a suit, the apparition was from a different era. Sometime from the 1800’s, I guessed. Although I’d never been a good judge of that sort of thing. Sam suggested that if ever I saw a spirit, I should confront it to see if it would communicate. That was always her specialty, but I’d never talked directly to a ghost before. If I talked to this one, maybe I’d discover why the apparition was hanging around. He stood in the doorway, raised his arm, and pointed toward the front lawn. Then, in the blink of an eye, he slowly turned and glided away. Without giving much thought, I followed him. I had to know what he wanted.
