If the Haunting Fits, Wear It

by Rose Pressey

  “It’s all over,” I said.

  “What’s over?” Danielle asked.

  “Mandy has been arrested for Ramon’s murder.”

  “You’re kidding? What happened? You look as if you’ve been in a fight.” Danielle looked me up and down.

  With the dirt on my dress and my hair rumpled, I knew I looked terrible.

  “Actually, I was in a fight. Danielle, I overheard Lewis tell Elise that he didn’t want anyone to know what they were doing. What did he mean by that?”

  She laughed. “He was just talking about the horse training. They’re doing special training that they don’t want the competition to know about. Heart rate monitors and stuff.”

  “See, I told you, Cookie,” Charlotte said.

  Charlotte had been just as suspicious as me. That was neither here nor there now though.

  I explained to everyone what had happened. The hat pin to the cheek and all. I knew the police would be waiting to talk with everyone. Even with all the excitement, I was glad that I was finally going home.

  “It’s Big Red.” Ramon pointed.

  “Secretariat?” Charlotte asked.

  I followed his pointing finger. A misty tunnel appeared beside one of the barns. It was as if the horse was waiting for someone.

  “I think it’s time for me to go,” Ramon said as he moved toward the tunnel.

  “Secretariat came for Ramon,” Charlotte whispered.

  “That’s beautiful,” Maureen said.

  “Bye, Ramon.” I waved.

  “Thank you, Cookie. Without you I would have never been able to leave.”

  Ramon walked to the tunnel. A second later, he disappeared right into it. It was as if the thing had never been there. Now it was just Charlotte and Maureen. Charlotte moved between the worlds. She had a special talent for it. She wasn’t going anywhere for long. She might go away for a while, but she always came back.

  As I stood there, absorbing all of the excitement and chaos from the event, my cell phone rang. My mother’s number popped up on the screen. She had impeccable timing. If I didn’t answer, she would just keep calling, so I picked up.

  I yelled into the phone. “I can’t hear you right now. It’s really loud here. I think that I might be on TV.”

  “I see you,” my mother screamed into the phone.

  “I’ll have to call you back.” I waved so that she could see me.

  “Wait, don’t hang up. They found Maureen’s killer.”

  “What’s that?” I yelled.

  “I said, they found Maureen’s killer.”

  “Who was it?” This time I yelled because I was shocked at the news.

  “The woman who had an affair with her husband,” my mother said.

  “Did the police arrest her?”

  “Yes, they did. I’ll explain later.”

  “Wow, I guess that was a lot of excitement for everyone. I’ll call you soon when I can hear better,” I said.

  Now I had to explain to Maureen exactly what had happened. It was just as Grandma Pearl had said. Charlotte and Maureen were staring at me.

  “Well?” Charlotte said. “We overheard you talking. Give us the details.”

  I couldn’t talk to them right there in front of everybody, and especially not on national television. I wouldn’t want to embarrass anyone like that. I’d have to explain to Danielle why the crazy woman with her was talking to herself.

  I touched Dylan’s arm. “I’ll be right back. I just need to step over here and call my mother back. I couldn’t hear her.”

  “Well, if you think it’s important, sure, you should call her back,” Dylan said.

  He probably figured my mother wanted to give me a new tofu cookie recipe or something. Normally, I would’ve thought the same thing.

  Somehow, I made my way to the edge of the track. I would pretend to talk on my cell phone so that no one would be suspicious.

  “Okay, now tell us what’s going on,” Charlotte said.

  “I’m almost too nervous to find out.” Maureen shifted from one foot to the other.

  I stared at the women. “They found the killer and arrested her for Maureen’s death. Yes, it was the woman who was having an affair with your husband.”

  “That low-down, rotten, disgusting human being.” Maureen shook her fist.

  “Let it all out,” Charlotte said. “Let that anger out.”

  “So what are you going to do now?” Charlotte asked Maureen.

  She was quiet, as if she was contemplating her next step.

  “There’s only one thing for me to do now,” she said.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “It’s time for me to leave.”

  “What! I go in and out of this world, and so can you,” Charlotte said.

  “That’s for you, Charlotte. I could never do that. I always said when they found the killer, I would leave immediately, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  Over by the entrance to the track, I spotted the light misty tunnel. It was just like the one that had appeared for Ramon. There was no horse this time, although there were a few people.

  “There’s my family,” Maureen said.

  I nodded. “I understand, Maureen. I’ll miss you.”

  She waved and walked toward the tunnel without looking back. She was brave. Charlotte and I stood there watching the area where Maureen had disappeared.

  “Well, I guess that’s that,” Charlotte said.

  “I’m going to miss her,” I said. “Aren’t you, Charlotte?”

  She shrugged. I could read her expression. Charlotte would miss Maureen too.

  “I’m sure I’ll run into her on the other side occasionally,” Charlotte said.

  “Do you have cell phones there? Never mind.” I waved my hand.

  Sadness set in every time one of the ghosts had to leave. As much as I complained when they first showed up, they were like friends by the time they left. That was life, and I had to deal with it.

  After returning to the crowded area, I found Dylan again. As we stood in the winner’s circle, I wondered about Ken. I hadn’t seen him since I’d left the room to follow Mandy. Had he taken off? I asked Danielle, but she said she hadn’t seen him for a bit. I wanted to say good-bye before he left to go back to Sugar Creek. I hoped he wasn’t mad at me. After we were finished at the winner’s circle, everyone was going back to the barn to say good-bye to the horse. Dylan and I walked from the track to the barn together.

  As we neared the barn, I noticed a few people across the way. That was when I realized one of them was Ken. He was getting into a truck with two men. What was going on?

  I touched Dylan’s arm. “Something doesn’t seem right. Ken is getting in a truck with the two men who were following me. I think we should go over and ask what’s wrong.”

  Dylan stared at me. “Okay, let’s go find out.”

  We approached the truck as the driver was getting in. Ken was sitting in the middle, looking like a hostage.

  “Hey, you.” I yelled. “What are you doing?”

  Ken noticed me. He looked as if he was pleading for help. The guy jumped in and cranked the engine, but it wouldn’t start.

  “Get out of the truck,” Dylan yelled.

  The men had nowhere to go. When Dylan flashed his badge, the men stepped out from the truck.

  “Put your hands up,” Dylan commanded.

  “What’s the matter, officer?” the driver asked.

  Ken got out of the truck too. He placed his hands up as if he’d done something wrong. “These were the guys who were following Cookie. They were trying to intimidate me. I don’t know where they were going to take me.”

  “Do you work for Mandy?” I asked the men.

  They didn’t answer. Instead they exchanged a look with each other. I took that as a yes.

  “Turn around and place your hands on the truck. No sudden movements.” Dylan moved over to the men. “You’re under arrest.”

  Dylan called for
police backup. There certainly had been a lot of arrests here today.

  “Thank you, Cookie and Dylan, for saving me. I don’t know where these guys were taking me.”

  “Glad I could help, but it wasn’t me. Cookie is the one you should thank. I wouldn’t have even noticed you getting in the truck,” Dylan said.

  What Dylan probably meant to say was that he wouldn’t have done anything even if he had noticed Ken. Not that Dylan wouldn’t have wanted to save Ken; it was just that he wouldn’t have realized that Ken was in trouble. The cops arrived and arrested the men. Dylan said they would be charged with kidnapping. Plus, there would be charges for stalking me.

  Dylan pulled me to the side. “Cookie, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  “What’s that?” I asked. “You’re starting to worry me.”

  Charlotte stood close so that she could hear more clearly. Plus we were anxious to hear what he had to say.

  “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, but I just didn’t know how to bring it up.” Dylan ran his hand through his hair.

  He always did that when he was nervous, which wasn’t often.

  “He’s going to ask her to marry him,” Charlotte practically squealed.

  “The other day, I know I heard you talking to someone in your hotel room.”

  “Oh no, he thinks you’re cheating on him. This is terrible.” Charlotte twisted her hands. “I can’t watch.”

  “And that’s not all,” Dylan said. “Apparently, you left me a voice mail without even realizing it. I heard a conversation. Who were you talking to when you were in the office barn?”

  “Oh no. He must have heard you talking to us. There’s only one thing you can do, Cookie,” Charlotte said. “You have to tell him the truth.”

  My anxiety rose, and my heart sped up.

  “You mentioned the word ‘ghosts.’ What did you mean by that?” Dylan studied my face.

  Charlotte was right yet again. I had to tell Dylan the truth. The time had finally come. I couldn’t lie to him any longer. If that meant he never wanted to talk to me again, then so be it. What was the point if he didn’t like me for me?

  Charlotte stared.

  “Well, here goes,” I said.

  Dylan quirked an eyebrow.

  “Oh, I almost can’t listen. Almost,” Charlotte said.

  “Dylan, something strange happened a while back. I saw a ghost.”

  He didn’t laugh, and he didn’t smile. His expression didn’t change.

  “I don’t think he believes you,” Charlotte said. “He probably thinks you’re joking.”

  “It happened with the ghost of Charlotte Meadows. It’s been happening with other spirits too.”

  “That’s why you were asking about Maureen’s death,” he said.

  I nodded. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth.”

  “Wait until you tell him that the cat is actually your grandmother,” Charlotte said with a chuckle.

  Dylan took my hands into his. “I believe you.”

  My mouth dropped. “You do?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I believe in the paranormal.”

  “As sure as corn bread goes with greens, he’s the man of your dreams,” Charlotte said.

  An Excerpt from Cookie’s Blog

  Vintage Clothing You Need Now!

  When shopping for vintage, here’s a quick look at items that should be on your “must have” list.

  • Cigarette pants

  • Pedal pushers

  • A-line skirts

  • Pencil skirts

  • Cardigan sweaters

  • Hats

  • Slips

  All of these items are considered timeless and classic. They can be incorporated into your modern wardrobe. The items can be casual or worn for work, even formal events. Imagine how versatile your wardrobe can be by adding just a few vintage items.

  For example, pedal pushers can be worn with heels or flats . . . even sneakers, for a super casual look. The same can be said about the cigarette pants. Pencil skirts can be worn to the office or for date night. With the right blouse, a pencil skirt could even take you to that glamorous cocktail party.

  Acknowledgments

  Many thanks to my husband for his insight into the world of thoroughbred racing. Also thank you to my editor, Michaela Hamilton, and my agent, Jill Marsal.

  Don’t miss Rose Pressey’s next delightful Haunted Vintage Mystery

  A Passion for Haunted Fashion

  Coming soon from Kensington Publishing Corp.

  Keep reading to enjoy a sample excerpt . . .

  Chapter 1

  There were rumors that the Sugar Creek Theater was haunted. Most of the lights had stopped working in the basement of the building years ago. Fixing them wasn’t a top priority for management. Against my better judgment, I headed toward the costume room. It was located down in the dungeon. At least that was what I called the space. The floorboards creaked with every step I took. Every time I came down here, I felt as if someone was watching my every move. That was why I hadn’t come alone today.

  I’d never given much thought to ghosts until they started talking to me.

  I’d brought a ghost with me today. Charlotte Meadows wouldn’t miss out on tagging along. She was bossy and loved telling me what to do. Charlotte had been with me for a while now, ever since I’d found her at an estate sale. She’d been attached to her clothing. We’d been through a lot together in a short amount of time. Now she refused to move on from this dimension.

  “Cookie, don’t forget to put Heather in bright colors. She’s always so blah.” Her gold bangles clanged together as Charlotte talked with her hands.

  “I’m glad Heather can’t hear you say that.”

  Charlotte eased down the hallway beside me. She watched every step she took in her black four-inch Christian Louboutin heels, as if she thought she might take a wrong step on the old floor.

  “Charlotte, it’s okay if you fall . . . you’re already dead. What can it hurt?”

  “Why do you insist on reminding me of that every day?” Charlotte asked.

  “It’s just a fact,” I said.

  “Besides, it could hurt my ego,” she said.

  As usual, Charlotte’s chestnut-colored hair fell to her shoulders in perfect waves, as if she’d just stepped out of a salon. Her makeup was photograph-ready, and her white Chanel blouse and black Louis Vuitton skirt were the latest off the runway. Charlotte knew fashion, no matter if she was dead. She didn’t go for vintage like me though.

  We continued down the hallway. Footsteps sounded from behind me. A cold breeze drifted across my skin.

  “Charlotte, stop goofing around. I’ve noticed your shoes. There’s no reason to exaggerate your footsteps.”

  “That’s not me,” she whispered.

  I froze. If the sound hadn’t come from Charlotte’s feet, then who was making the noise? I eased around, completely expecting to see someone else behind us. No one was there.

  “This place really is haunted. I don’t like ghosts.” Charlotte rubbed her arms, as if fighting off goose bumps.

  That was hilarious considering Charlotte was a specter. I refrained from reminding her of that once again.

  At the end of the hallway was the room reserved for all the costumes. Racks and racks of vintage clothing, handmade costumes, and various props filled the space. As soon as I entered the area, the sense that someone was watching fell over me again.

  “Why did they stick you down here in this creepy space? There are no windows. One of these nights they will forget you’re down here and lock you in.”

  “Thanks, Charlotte, as if I wasn’t scared enough already.”

  The spookiness was forgotten when I started sorting through the clothing. Vintage always made me feel better and eased my troubles. Clothing from bygone days was my thing. I owned a boutique in Sugar Creek, Georgia, called It’s Vintage Y’ all. When I got my hands on a 1950s hoop ski
rt or a 1940s party dress, all my stress oozed away. A gorgeous Dior cocktail dress made all my troubles vanish. Anything Chanel made my heart go pitty-pat. Considering my name is Cookie Chanel, I suppose that was fitting. When, as a child, I ate an entire package of cookies, my Grandma Pearl gave me the nickname Cookie. The moniker fit so well with Chanel that it stuck.

  Charlotte sat on an old trunk in the corner of the room. “What do you need for the costume? Let’s get this going so we can get out of here.”

  “You know, Charlotte, you didn’t have to come down here.” I pulled out a bright fuchsia and black floral-print dress and examined it.

  It had spaghetti straps, a full skirt, and a fitted waist, and the cut and fabric would be fabulous on my best friend, Heather Sweet. The director had put me in charge of costumes for Sugar Creek Theater’s production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Heather had the role of Maggie.

  “I can’t leave you alone down here. What if a ghost gets you?” Charlotte studied her red-polished fingernails.

  She didn’t seem all that concerned.

  “I suppose I’ll talk to the ghost, just like I do with you,” I said.

  Charlotte pinned me with a frosty stare. “You just had to get in the fact that I’m dead, didn’t you?”

  I moved away from the rack and closer to Charlotte. “I’m just sayin’ . . .”

  She jumped up from the trunk. “Pick out a dress, and let’s get a move on. How about that one?”

  “Which one?” I asked.

  Charlotte gestured with a flick of her wrist. “The one that looks like the dress you’re wearing.”

  I pulled the frock from the rack. The fabric was similar to the dress I’d worn today. The butterflies on the fabric were smaller than the ones on mine. The colors were the same hues of lilac and yellow. The V-neck bodice had a nipped waist, and the tea-length skirt was full.

  I placed it back on the stand. “Heather already has a dress with these colors.”

  Charlotte massaged her temples, as if ghosts could really have headaches. “Just pick something already.”