If the Haunting Fits, Wear It

by Rose Pressey

  “What’s in that trunk?” I pointed.

  “How should I know,” Charlotte said.

  I reached down and examined the latch. “It’s not locked.”

  “That’s not an invitation to open it. There’s probably a mouse in there.”

  Just in case Charlotte was right about the vermin, I eased the lid open. So far, no rodents. However, I’d found some seriously fabulous vintage clothing. Who left these wonderful pieces? A 1950s fitted black cocktail dress with a low back. A 1940s sleeveless sweater in a gorgeous cream color. Everything was from the 1950s, with exception of a few pieces from the 1940s.

  “Is that cashmere?” Charlotte leaned closer.

  Now Charlotte was interested.

  “Did you see this trunk yesterday?” I asked.

  Charlotte tapped her foot against the dinged-up floor. “With all this junk, how would I remember? Now let’s go.”

  “I think that dress is beautiful.” The female voice carried across the room.

  I jumped, tossing the dress in the air. When I spun around, I saw a young woman standing by the door. She was probably about five years younger than me, around twenty-five. She had brown hair cut into a bob, with bouncy curls that framed her round face. Her mint-colored dress looked like it had been made in the 1950s. A large bow adorned the neckline, and the fitted waist flowed into a gathered full skirt. I was almost sure the dress had been handmade by a talented seamstress. Maybe my style was having an influence on people around town. Where had she come from? It was as if she’d appeared out of nowhere.

  “The trunk belongs to me,” she said. “I’ve been stuck in this building for years.”

  Oh no. Another ghost?