Boo Who

by Rene Gutteridge

  He liked working at the bookstore, though the pace was horribly slow. At times he prayed for at least one customer to come in needing help, even if just looking for a romance novel.

  Instead, most of his time was spent chatting with Dustin, who loved detailing the habits of his two pet snakes.

  Oh Lord, how he wanted to marry Ainsley. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. His body ached at the thought of losing her. Then he almost laughed aloud, recalling those horrid romance novels he’d been reading. Maybe they weren’t so far from the truth after all.

  As the midnight blue color of the night sky sketched itself over Skary, Wolfe felt very lonely.

  The restaurant’s electric atmosphere seemed to feed the crowd around Ainsley. She was trying to pay attention to the conversation while taking it all in.

  On her left was Chef Dante Elouise, well-known New York restaurant owner, who had not quite achieved the status of fame. Alfred had explained to her that many chefs were looking for opportunities to become the next Rocco or Emeril. On her right sat Marc Yeager, a Boston chef who had some short-lived success on the Home Shopping Network before one of the products he was touting ended up having a short in it that burned up seven kitchens across America.

  Ainsley was enjoying some of the most exquisite food she’d ever tasted. The restaurant specialized in Hawaiian food, and she tried what they called butter fish. It melted in her mouth. But her appetite waned out of nervousness, especially as Alfred was going on and on about what a superstar she would become. The two chefs seemed to buy it. They talked to her with a respect she’d never known from the professional world.

  When it came time for her to share her desired menu for Melb’s reception, the two chefs praised her selection of recipes and the way she chose all the foods to complement one another. They gave subtle suggestions, which she approved of, and at the end, she thought this was going to be the best reception she’d ever attended.

  They began discussing some of the particulars of shooting the pilot, and Alfred said, “You know, Ainsley, we are going to have to separate ourselves a bit from Martha Stewart. It will be considered old school after we’re finished with it. There’s a new show in town, and it’s going to outshine the rest. What I’m saying is that we have to be a little different. I think one way we do it is to have more of the reality aspect. Reality is hot right now. Seems like the trend will continue for a while. On our show, we’ll be set apart because we’ll actually have people eating the food. It’s not just for show, you know? It’s for enjoyment. You’ll really be cooking, not just pulling something out of the oven that’s been sitting there for an hour. Part of the show will be the real, live interaction of people. What do you think?”

  Chef Dante spoke up. “Sounds like a lot of pressure.” Then he looked at Ainsley. “Pressure I am sure you can handle.”

  Chef Marc said, “A lot can go wrong, but sometimes that’s what makes it interesting.”

  Alfred nodded. “Exactly. And we don’t always have to have the high-paced atmosphere of a wedding reception. Sometimes it will be a dinner for friends. Or a picnic with children.”

  Ainsley laughed. Already she could see how much fun this was going to be. Alfred squeezed her hand. “This is your moment, lady. Everything you’ve been working for.”

  Chef Marc said, “It will be a pleasure working for you.”

  “Indeed,” added Chef Dante.

  “I know Melb is going to be so excited about all this. It will truly bless her.”

  “Who is Melb?” Chef Marc asked.

  “It’s her wedding we’re doing,” she said, a tinge of sadness clinging to her heart as she realized these men didn’t even have a clue how special this day would be for Melb. She cheered up by reminding herself that she knew, and that was all that mattered.

  Alfred said, “I’ll call Melb tomorrow and tell her the menu. She’ll be ecstatic. I’m also going to have to tell her she’ll need to extend her guest list. We’re going to need a lot of people there.”

  Chef Marc wiped his mouth with his napkin. “All right. We’ll get to work. There will be a lot of planning on this. I’ll be making the ingredients list. Dante will put together the timetable.”

  “I can’t believe this. It’s almost like a dream!”

  Alfred laughed. “It’s going to be a lot of hard work. Are you up for it?”

  She nodded. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Alfred checked his watch. “We better get you two to the airport. Wish we could meet longer, but I know you’re busy, and I appreciate your time here.” All four stood and shook hands. Then Alfred said, “Ainsley, I’m going to go hail them a cab.”

  “Okay. May I use your cell phone?”

  “Sure.” He smiled and handed it to her. After the gentlemen left, she dialed Wolfe’s number, excitement building with every ring. But his answering machine picked up. “Wolfe? Wolfe? Are you there? It’s me … Hello?”

  Only silence answered back.

  “Okay, um, I just wanted to tell you about my evening. It was incredible. I was afraid I’d be home too late to call you tonight, so I’m using Alfred’s cell phone. I miss you. I’ll call you tomorrow. You’re not going to believe some of the stuff that’s going on! It’s so exciting. I love you. Bye.”

  Wolfe sat in his living room, listening to her voice over the recorder. The cell phone static emphasized his feelings of disconnection. He didn’t want to talk with her. He didn’t want to hear her exciting news. He just wanted her back in Skary, planning their wedding, loving him.

  He closed his eyes as she hung up the phone. Part of him wanted to jump up, grab the receiver, and talk with her. But mostly he was disgruntled and angry. Admittedly, he was still feeling betrayed that she’d agreed to plan Melb’s entire reception without telling him. As far as he could tell, she didn’t have a thing planned for theirs.

  Goose and Bunny whimpered their request to go outside. He sighed, wishing for an ounce of their eagerness. Instead his body felt heavy, burdened. He got up and let them outside, and decided to make some hot tea. While his tea steeped, he glanced over to his bookshelf and saw the copy of Black Cats that Missy Peeple had brought by at Christmas. He shook his head, holding the little tea string and bobbing the bag up and down in the cup. It was an odd thing to say there was a secret message in something you wrote and you didn’t even know about it. Common sense told him this was a bunch of nonsense. But the imaginative side of him wondered if it could be true.

  He added cream and sugar and took his tea to the bookshelf, thinking of the story of Black Cats and wondering if there was any kind of significance to it. Sure, he’d gotten the idea by living in a town filled with cats. But that’s where he’d thought the similarities ended. Everything else had come straight from his imagination, or so he thought. Could he have been influenced by some unseen circumstance that had caused him to write a book about the mysteries behind a town?

  The warm tea he sipped seemed to melt away these crazy theories. He smiled. It would make a great plot for a novel, though.

  He took the book off the shelf, looking at the cover. It was the last book he’d written, one of his best. He’d enjoyed the process of it so much. As he sat back down, the blinking red light of his answering machine caught his attention, pulling his thoughts back to Ainsley. He flipped the pages of the book with his thumb. He didn’t want to feel this way about Ainsley, but these days it seemed the only way out of it was to not think of her at all.

  Staring down at the book, he decided to flip it open. It was rare that he even looked through a book of his once it was published. It was satisfying to see it in print. But he knew the book so well, there was never a need to look through it once it arrived between hard covers.

  When he opened it, though, shock electrified his body. His jaw dropped and he let out a surprised laugh. There, in the middle pages of the book, was a small space cut out, just large enough for a … key. A key! It was taped to the inside of the hole.

&nb
sp; Wolfe jumped up from his chair and hurried to the kitchen. He set the book down and carefully untaped the key. It was no bigger than his thumb. He checked the time. It was just after nine. He looked up Martins phone number and dialed it.

  “Hello?”

  “Martin, it’s Wolfe.”

  “Hi Wolfe. What’s the matter? You sound—”

  “Can you come over right now?”

  “Sounds urgent.”

  “It is.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  CHAPTER 27

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE IT,” Martin said. He stood in Wolfe Boone’s kitchen staring at the tiny key.

  “So let’s go confront Miss Peeple about this. She’s given us some key, now let’s find out what it means.”

  Martin grimaced. “One problem. She’s, well, sort of … possibly dead.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She had to be rushed to the hospital this afternoon.”

  “What?”

  “I was breaking into her house at the time,” Martin said quietly. “Don’t tell anyone. But I had to know why she sent the note. I was trying to find clues.”

  “You broke into her house?”

  “I didn’t think she was home,” Martin emphasized. “I had knocked several times, and nobody answered. The front door was open, so I went in.” He threw up his hands and shrugged. “How was I to know she was actually lying incapacitated in her bed? I probably saved her life,” he said, trying to convince himself. “She was alive when they were wheeling her out.”

  “Well, let’s go. Let’s go to the hospital,” Wolfe said, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. “That woman has been at death’s door before and come back.”

  “It’s a forty-minute drive to the county hospital.”

  Wolfe turned to him. “Martin, aren’t you the least bit curious about why she went to all this trouble to hide a key in a book and give it to me? And then when I didn’t find it, drop a hint to you?”

  “Of course I’m curious,” Martin replied. His fingers tore through his hair, and he closed his eyes. “It’s just been a hard day. I’m not sure I can stand any more surprises.”

  “Surprises?”

  Martin opened his eyes and rolled them, exhausted at the thought of even trying to explain what else had happened. “Can I trust you not to spread what I say around?”

  “Sure,” Wolfe said. “What is it?”

  “Oliver caught one today.”

  “Caught what?”

  “I don’t really know what to call it. Ghost doesn’t seem right. Goblin, well, I don’t even know what a goblin is, really. Heck, you’re the expert on these things.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oliver caught one of those people that are wandering around the outskirts of town. You know? Screaming every now and then? Looking like the walking dead. Technically, is there a difference between the walking dead and ghosts?”

  “Martin, I make ghost stories up. They’re not real. And what do you mean Oliver caught one?”

  “Had him tied up in the shed when I got there. I interrogated him—”

  “You interrogated him?”

  “Yes. Real weird. Eyes wide,” Martin said, his fingers and thumbs circling his eyes in an O shape. “Shaking. Sweating. Claims he’s from Kentucky. How bizarre is that?”

  Wolfe had covered his mouth with his hand, as if holding in a thousand questions that wanted to escape. His hand slid down to his chin, where he scratched it in thought. Then he said, “Where is he now?”

  “Oliver?”

  “No … the … the …”

  “Oh. Escaped. Chair fell over. Rope slid off. Up he jumped, and out he went.”

  Wolfe zipped up his jacket. “Come on. Were going to see Missy Peeple.”

  It was a little hard to decide, there were so many to choose from, but Dr. Hass decided on a black cat with white paws that he named Blot. Blot had been hanging around his porch for several days now, since the first day he’d arrived, in fact, and they’d seemed to have a certain connection. For some odd reason, the cat really wanted in his house.

  Thrilled to finally be invited inside, Blot had hardly left his side. She’d tangle her tail between his legs, circling each ankle with a soft meow. Only once did she leave the room he was in to go investigate an owl hooting nearby. She returned only minutes later, though, and was now curled up on the corner of his desk, where he busied himself with back paperwork in the late evening. All this therapy was putting him behind! He’d spent an hour with Melb Cornforth and her weight-loss saga. To her astonishment, she’d been losing weight and believed it was because of their twice weekly sessions. He didn’t dispute her, but instead pocketed the $150 and told her he’d see her the next week.

  He was just closing a folder when he heard his front door crash open. Blot hopped to her feet, but Dr. Hass froze in his chair. He could hear footsteps stomping across the floor. He wished suddenly that Blot was not a cat but instead a pit bull.

  Just as he was about to scream for help, a man came around the corner, bundled in his coat, emotions scrambled on his face. His eyes were pleading, his mouth in a tight, angry grimace. Overall, it was clear that he was not a very happy man.

  “Dr. Hass!” his voice boomed through the office. Blot’s tail sprang toward the ceiling, and she moved a few steps closer to Dr. Hass. It was Leroy Hurgison.

  “Leroy. Hello. Good to see—”

  “This town is crazy! You know what happened to me today?! I got tied up in a shed, and these people were claimin’ I’m a ghost! I swear I thought they were going to kill me, except then they were discussin’ how one might kill a ghost. I’ve never seen two crazier people in my life. They looked at me like I was some sort of vampire. I don’t know what kind of crazy town this is, but I’m leaving! Do you hear me? There ain’t nothin’ here in this town that’s worth my life, and the last thing I’m gonna allow to happen is getting’ myself murdered by a bunch of townsfolk who think their town’s being haunted!”

  Dr. Hass stood up, nervously stroking Blot. “Leroy, I certainly understand why you’re upset. You have every reason to be. But—”

  “Don’t even try to convince me I need to stay. You should’ve seen the looks in their eyes. ‘Oliver, what should we do, kill him?’ ‘Why, I don’t know, Martin. Can you kill a ghost?’ I can’t believe I’m standing here alive to tell you about it. I can live with who I am and what I have wrong with me. What I can’t live with is the fear of being hunted like a deer. I’m scared to death! Good-bye!”

  Leroy marched out of the office and left without closing the front door. Dr. Hass fell into his chair as Blot leapt onto his lap. “Good grief,” he mumbled. Coming from the city, he hadn’t realized how much small-town folks paid attention to things. In the city, nobody even noticed when something was different. Everyone was into their own business and nothing more. But it was not the same out here. Business was fair game, no matter whose it was.

  Blot nuzzled her face into his shoulder. “Wait!” he shouted. “Oh! Oh!” He carefully set Blot down and stood, clasping his hands over his head and laughing. He had just realized something, something astonishing! Leroy didn’t even notice because he was so mad!

  “Blot! This is amazing! Amazing!” Blot’s slit eyes indicated she was far less impressed. But it didn’t matter. Something huge had happened tonight, something unforeseen.

  He scrambled back to his desk and flipped open his calendar. He was still two weeks from Phase Two, but his gut told him it was time to proceed. Phase Two would begin the day after tomorrow—and include an added twist.

  It was past ten when Ainsley unlocked the front door of her house. Alfred had dropped her off about ten minutes ago, but instead of going in, she’d decided to drive over to Wolfe’s house to see if he was still awake. Not being able to speak with him while she was in Indianapolis had disappointed her. And his tone had been less than enthusiastic when she’d phoned him at work to tell him she’d have to cance
l that evening.

  She was hoping that with all the good news from the day, he’d be able to understand and join in her excitement. But to her astonishment, even this late at night, he was still out. So now thoughts of where he might be plagued her mind.

  At home her father was awake, sitting in the kitchen with a ball of yarn.

  “Ainsley! Watch this!” Her father rolled a yarn ball across the floor, and Thief tackled it with charisma. “Can you believe it? Thief’s back! The therapy worked!”

  Ainsley smiled, unloading her stuff on the couch and joining her father in the kitchen. “That’s terrific, Dad.”

  “Amazing, if you ask me. I always thought shrinks were a crock of you-know-what.”

  “Aunt Gert’s stew?” Ainsley smiled.

  Her father laughed. “No, but close. Anyway, I just thought those guys didn’t know what they were talking about, you know? I figured they were just there to rake in the money. But this shrink fixed my cat! I followed all the steps he told me, and it worked.”

  “I’m so glad. It’s good to have Thief back on his feet.”

  “So how was Indianapolis?”

  “Fine. A lot of fun. I’m a little in awe of all of this, to tell you the truth. Dad, did Wolfe call, by any chance?”

  “Nope. Haven’t heard from him today. But your cake lady called.”

  “Nita?”

  “Can’t remember, but the one who is doing your wedding cake.”

  “Yeah, that’s Nita.”

  “Well, she said you waited too late to give her your cake choice, and that she’s going to have to special order something-or-other, and it will take about a month to get in.”