by Josie Belle
“You have your dress?” Lizzie asked.
Ginger chose that moment to hit Maggie’s scrape with an antiseptic wipe and Maggie about leapt out of her chair.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow!” she yelped.
“Sorry, but timing is everything,” Ginger said.
Maggie met her gaze and knew that her friend had just saved her from confessing that she didn’t have a dress yet. That’s what best friends were for.
“What about a venue?” Trudy was clearly not going to be deterred from discussing wedding details even by a little blood.
“They are not using the banquet hall at your country club,” Lizzie said.
“Well, I refuse to see my son get married in the great room at your favorite restaurant,” Trudy argued.
They were both getting a little red and blotchy, and Maggie was afraid that things were going to go from bad to worse at any moment.
“No, no,” she said. “You don’t have to worry. Sam and I have agreed to have the reception at the new house.”
“That’s right,” Joanne said. “And my husband is providing the pig for roasting.”
“And my boyfriend has a cover band all lined up for entertainment,” Claire said.
“And my husband is getting all of the tables and chairs,” Summer said.
“Does he know this?” Ginger asked.
“Not yet, but he will,” Summer said. “I didn’t want to be left out.”
“Me neither,” Ginger agreed. “That’s why I’m taking care of the cake, which will be chocolate with vanilla buttercream and decorated with a cascade of peonies going around the side, right?”
“Yes. Really? You are?” Maggie asked.
“Absolutely,” Ginger said. “I’m pretty sure I can get help from Alice Franklin with the frosting part of it.”
“She is gifted in the frosting arts,” Claire said.
“See?” Maggie looked at the two mothers. “It’s all taken care of so you have nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about?” Lizzie squawked. “This is a travesty!”
“A fiasco,” Trudy agreed.
“You can’t have a wedding reception in a haunted house,” Lizzie said. “You shouldn’t even be planning to live there. How can your guests possibly expect to relax when they’ll be looking over their shoulders for ghosts the entire time?”
“She’s right,” Trudy said. “It’s a horrible idea. No doubt my son put her up to it.”
“Oh, Sam wasn’t alone in this half-baked idea. Some of the things Maggie has cooked up over the years, honestly, is it any wonder that my hair is gray?”
“Oh, please, you are a lovely mother of the bride,” Trudy said. “Look at all of this salt and pepper. When they first started sprouting, I used to name them after each boy who caused me a fright. I could point to my head and say, ‘Tommy, Jake, Nate, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam.’”
Lizzie O’Brien covered her mouth while she giggled and Maggie stared at the two women, who had entered enemies and were now leaving as friends.
“I think they might just be a perfect match,” Lizzie said. Both women turned to look at Maggie with matching expressions of adoration.
“Still, we’d better get moving on the decoration portion of this shindig, before it gets forgotten,” Trudy said. “I think peach linens would be lovely.”
“Yes, we could do that, or maybe a nice royal blue,” Lizzie said.
They turned and began to leave the shop, not even bothering to say good-bye to anyone.
“How about royal blue with peach accents?” Trudy asked.
“I like it,” Lizzie said.
The door swung shut behind them and Maggie leaned back against her seat and closed her eyes.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Turbo mothers of the bride and groom,” Summer said. “They are the reason some people elope.”
“Speaking of turbo mothers, how is Blair?” Claire asked.
“Still mad at me for eloping,” Summer said. Then she grinned. “That was months ago and she still isn’t speaking to me, which is a nice vacation from her constant criticism.”
“But she and Tyler are getting along?” Joanne asked.
“Ever since he saved her life and she found out he was loaded—okay, mostly after she found out he was loaded—he is her favorite person,” Summer sighed.
“Maybe she’ll meet someone soon,” Ginger said.
“You may want to trot her over to Spring Gardens,” Maggie said. “I know that both Dennis Applebaum and his brother are on the prowl and they could certainly use a firm hand from a strong-willed woman; also I heard that they’re quite well off.”
“Hmm.” Summer narrowed her gaze at Maggie. “Are you helping me out?”
“Maybe,” Maggie said. “Because I heard that friends do that sort of thing for each other, you know, like looking out for someone’s fiancé when someone is trying to break them up.”
Summer’s eyes went wide. “Did Sam tell you? I told him not to tell you.”
“Yeah, he did,” Maggie said. “And I’m glad. That was a nice thing you did and I appreciate it.”
Summer ducked her head and her hair covered her face. Maggie couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed or suddenly shy, having never seen Summer exhibit either of those emotions before.
“I’m lost,” Ginger said. “Catch me up to speed, please.”
Maggie told the rest of the Good Buy Girls what Sam had told her about Summer tailing Andy and keeping an eye on her. They all looked as amazed as Maggie had felt at the time.
“You know, I had my doubts about you, Summer, but I have to say you are certainly proving yourself worthy of the Good Buy Girl membership,” Ginger said.
“I can go one better than that,” Summer said. She glanced up and Maggie noted that her cheeks were pink with embarrassment. “I talked to Tyler about using one of his investments for your weddings favors, because I noticed you hadn’t really come up with one yet.”
Maggie felt her smile freeze. Given that Summer’s style was a bit more flamboyant than Maggie’s—as in a bit more slutty—she was afraid to find out what sort of investment would yield favors for her wedding.
“Here, I’ll show you,” Summer said. She reached into her voluminous handbag and pulled out a cube-shaped box. She popped the top and lifted out a clear ball-shaped glass jar with a cork for a stopper and a small wooden honey dipper tied to its neck. The jar was filled with a pretty amber liquid.
Summer held it out to her. “It’s a jar of honey from Tyler’s beekeeper business. I figured we could tie on a tag with your names and the date and use them as favors. I mean everyone likes honey, right?”
Maggie took the jar and felt her throat get tight. If anyone had told her that there would be a day where she felt compelled to hug Summer and not in a choke-her-out sort of way, she would have thought they were crazy.
She glanced up at the woman who had been a thorn in her side since she first sucked air. Then she stepped close and hugged her.
“It’s perfect,” Maggie said. “Thank you.”
After an awkward second, Summer hugged her back. “You’re welcome.”
When they broke apart, they gave each other sheepish grins.
“That is absolutely perfect, Summer,” Joanne said. She gave her a hug and Ginger did the same. Claire, not being a hugger by nature, left it at a fist bump.
“Maggie, I don’t want to jinx it but I can’t help but think you are going to have the best wedding ever,” Ginger said. Maggie didn’t want to jinx it either so she said nothing, but just nodded, hoping that her silent agreement did not invite mayhem into one of the most important days of her life.
Chapter 26
When she thought about it, Maggie knew she didn’t need the best wedding ever, she just needed a non–ghost infested event that would find her married to her first love Sam Collins at the end of it. She had to admit life sure was full of surprises. If someone had told her five years ago that this was how it
was going to play out, she would have thought they were demented. Now she couldn’t imagine her life going any other way.
Shortly after the mothers left the shop, the Good Buy Girls all left to carry on with their own days. It took some pushing, but Maggie convinced Ginger that she was fine. She had a call in to Sam as he was still out looking for Ruth.
She wanted to tell Sam about the diary but not over the phone. And truthfully, she wanted to finish reading it before she turned it over to him.
Maggie figured as long as she stayed alert, she really didn’t have to worry that Ruth was going to make another move to hurt her. After mulling over the incident, she knew that if Ruth had really wanted to kill her, she could have easily run Maggie over. It seemed she just wanted to scare Maggie, so in that regard, mission accomplished.
When Sam called to check on her, Maggie promised to keep her phone on her person at all times, which seemed to put him at ease. Maggie mentioned that she needed to talk to him, and he said he would be stopping by as soon as he finished running down the lead that Ruth’s car was in the lot at the hospital.
While Maggie was ringing up a pretty sundress for Megan Pritchard, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. It was an incoming text from Tyler Fawkes. He wanted to know how many tables he should pick up for the wedding party at the house.
Maggie frowned. She had no idea. They texted back and forth until Maggie knew the size of the tables and how much room they would take up with chairs. She knew she was going to have to stop by the house and do some measuring before she could answer Tyler’s question.
Wanting to get it done before she forgot, Maggie decided to stop by the house on her way home. As she closed and locked the shop door, she called Sam to let him know what she was doing.
“Hi, darling,” Sam answered. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Maggie assured him.
“How’s the knee?”
“Better. Have you had any luck finding Ruth?”
“We found her car parked on her street, not at the hospital, but there was no sign of her,” he said. He sounded grim. “I want you to be extremely careful until we do.”
“I will, I promise,” Maggie said. “I’ve been in touch with Tyler about the tables for the reception. I need to stop by the house and measure the main rooms to figure out how many we can fit in there.”
“Don’t we want to set up outside?” Sam asked.
“What if it rains?”
“We can put up big tents,” he said.
“All right, but I still need to measure the backyard and figure out how we’re going to lay it all out.”
“I don’t want you at the house by yourself,” he said.
“So meet me,” Maggie said. She thought about the diary, hating to give it up before she had read the whole thing, but still she knew it was the right thing to do. “I have something to give you.”
“That sounds promising,” Sam said.
“It’s got to do with Jasper Kasey,” Maggie said.
“Now I’m intrigued,” he said. “I can be there in half an hour.”
“Perfect,” Maggie agreed. “I’ll meet you on the front porch.”
“Do not go into the house or the backyard without me,” Sam said.
“I promise,” Maggie said.
They ended their call with their usual I love yous and Maggie put her phone back in her pocket. She had forgotten to call Sal at the garage, so she was going to have to walk across town to get to the house, which would take most of the half hour. She figured if she cut through the town green, she would be safe enough; besides if she got there early, she’d have a few minutes to look through the diary.
She locked up the shop and set out toward the center of town. She loved June. It was warm but not yet sticky with humidity. Hanging flower pots bursting with rainbows of vibrant petunias hung from the lampposts that lined the streets in the center of town. It was hard to feel afraid when the world was so fresh and green and full of beauty and optimism.
She thought about what she knew about Ruth Crenshaw. Always a bit odd, Ruth had worked at the historical society for as long as Maggie could remember. She had never married or had children. She had lived in her family home her whole life, staying to take care of her parents as they aged. As far as Maggie knew, an occasional shopping trip to Dumontville was as far as Ruth had ever ventured from home.
Could it be that Ruth’s mother Violet held the key to what had happened to Jasper Kasey? They had been engaged and in the diary, she talked all about her plans for a big wedding and how exciting it was to be marrying a pilot. What had happened? Had Jasper thrown Violet over for Ida? Had she killed him and put his body in the Dixon house to frame Ida? Was that what had been written in the missing pages?
Did Ruth know what her mother had done and was she trying to hide it? Ruth’s devotion to her parents might cause her to try and hide something shameful in their past, but it was hard for Maggie to believe that she would harm Maggie in the process. Then again, if her mother had killed her fiancé, the family could be prone to violent behavior.
Maggie left the town green and walked down the side street where her new home sat nestled amidst the other historic homes of St. Stanley. She liked this street. It was wide and lined with trees, the houses had big front yards and most had wrought iron or white picket fences. She thought about the garden she wanted to plant and the porch swing she planned to have installed. Spending her days here with Sam would be lovely, assuming they could evict their ghost and deal with Ruth.
Maggie walked up the gravel drive. She liked the sound of the crunch under her sneakers. A lilac bush in the corner of the yard was heavy with blooms and she could smell its sweet bouquet in the breeze. She paused, wondering if they could use the front yard for the wedding, but she doubted any of her new neighbors wanted a pig roast in their line of sight.
She climbed the steps to the porch, checking for a trip wire just in case. There was nothing, which made her shoulders fall back down from around her ears. She hadn’t even realized she’d been that tense until she felt herself relax.
She checked the door. It was locked. She paced the length of the porch but nothing seemed amiss. Her phone buzzed and she looked at the display to see a text from Sam. He was running late but would be there in ten minutes.
Maggie sat back down and began to listen to the crickets. She glanced at the tall trees in the yard, anticipating a light show from the fireflies that seemed to enjoy flitting through the branches.
She remembered when her daughter used to catch jarfuls of the bugs and she’d let her keep them just until bedtime but then they always let them go. It had been magical to watch them fly back out into the world. She wondered if she would feel that same sense of freedom when Ruth was caught and her house was specter free.
She opened her purse and pulled Violet Crenshaw’s diary from it. She had just a few minutes before it would be too dark to read. She knew she had told Sam she wouldn’t go inside the house but surely putting on the porch light would be okay.
As she rose from her seat, she glanced along the side of the house and noticed a glow coming from one of the basement windows. That was odd. She was sure that Sam and the officers had shut everything off when they left the basement and as far as she knew he hadn’t been back.
She walked over to the window just above the ground. She peered in through the dirty glass and her breath caught in her throat. There was a light on in the basement, but more importantly, she saw Ruth Crenshaw.
Ruth was sitting on the dirt floor with her hands and feet tied in front of her and a gag tied around her mouth. Maggie didn’t pause to think about what she was doing; she banged on the window, bringing Ruth’s attention to her.
Ruth’s eyes went wide and she shook her head wildly back and forth as if warning Maggie away. Maggie tried to pry open the window to let Ruth know she was coming, but she couldn’t get the old painted frame to budge.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and
dialed Sam’s number. He answered on the second ring.
“He—” he began but Maggie interrupted.
“Ruth, I found Ruth,” she said. She stared at Ruth through the window as if afraid to take her eyes off of her for a second.
“What? Where?” Sam demanded. “Maggie, are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I’m at the house,” Maggie said. “She’s in the basement.”
“Where are you exactly?” Sam demanded. Maggie heard a siren over the phone and knew that Sam was racing to get to her.
“Sam, she’s tied up. Ah!” Maggie gasped as the lights in the basement went out. “The lights just went out. I’m going in.”
“Maggie, you can’t,” Sam yelled. “You don’t know what’s happening.”
“I know Ruth is tied up in the basement and it just went dark,” Maggie yelled back. “I have to go in.”
“Wait for me!” Sam said.
“What if she gets killed?” Maggie argued.
“She won’t,” Sam said.
Maggie could hear the doubt in his voice and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was. She had to go in.
“I’ll stay on the phone,” Maggie said. She used her key to unlock the door and pushed it open.
“Maggie.” Sam’s voice was a low, growled warning.
Maggie ignored him. She listened to the house, trying to determine if anyone was near her. She couldn’t hear anything.
“Ruth! Sam and I are here!” she shouted, hoping that whoever had tied Ruth up had heard her and opted to run rather than face her and phone Sam.
“Maggie, don’t go in there,” Sam said. He sounded frantic.
“I have to,” Maggie whispered. “You know I do.”
She heard him emit an anxious exhale on the other end in unspoken reluctant agreement.
Maggie stepped into the house, keeping close to the wall. She reached for the light switch that she knew was to her right. Her fingers had just found the switch when a loud thwack rang in her ears and a burst of pain exploded in the back of her head. Before Maggie could flip the switch and see who had hit her, she was out cold, falling to the floor in a heap.
