by Blythe Baker
“I sure hope so. I haven’t even tasted it yet, though. It might not be any good.” She stood up and pulled the pie out of the oven, setting it on a hot pad in the center of the table. The crust was golden brown, and the center was a gooey, rich orange. It looked delicious. “So, how was it?”
“How was what?” I asked, my mouth watering despite the fact I was stuffed from my burger and fries.
“Your date!”
“Not a date. But it was fine. Annie Colton is going to let me choose my own bridesmaid dress for her wedding, and we ran into Tucker at the diner. He may be dropping by soon for a visit.”
“Good Heavens, we’ve had more male callers in the past few months than we did the entire time you were gone. You aren’t running around breaking hearts, are ya?” Grandma looked up at me from beneath raised brows.
“When have I ever been known to run around breaking hearts?” I asked. “I never even had a boyfriend while I lived here.”
“That’s because you always had the boy next door hanging around,” Grandma said, turning her attention back to her tea and quilting magazine. “No other boy stood a chance because Billy Stone never let you too far out of his sight.”
I sighed and lifted myself out of the kitchen chair. “I’m off to bed.”
“You sure you don’t want some tea? If we stay up late gabbing long enough the pie will be cool, and we’ll be able to have a late-night slice.”
“Oh, leave the poor girl alone, Dorothy,” Grandpa said from his spot on the couch. “She doesn’t want to talk about her romantic life with her grandma.”
Grandma shot the back of his head a dirty look. “I don’t think it’s that so much as you don’t want to hear about it.”
Before they could refocus too much of their energy back on me, I leaned forward and pecked my grandma on the cheek and then spun around to plant a kiss on the top of my grandpa’s head. “Goodnight, you two.”
“Sleep well, dear.”
I was halfway up the stairs when I realized Snowball wasn’t following me, but was lying next to the couch, her furry chin on her hooves. “Are you coming, Snowball?”
She lifted her head, let out a dreary bleat, and then lowered it again.
“Guess not,” I mumbled.
I took the rest of the stairs two at a time. A full day spent in the garden with Grandma and two sightings of a spirit in the same day was enough to completely wear me out. I needed a good night’s sleep. When I reached the top of the stairs, I threw the door open and was a few steps into the room before I noted the temperature change. I stopped walking, a chill creeping up my neck. Then, I looked up and squealed.
The startled sound was out of me before I could draw it back in. It was a survival instinct, a reflex I couldn’t control. There was a ghost standing in the middle of my bedroom. Well, floating, rather. Screaming seemed an appropriate response. Sure, this wasn’t the first time I’d had a ghost in my room but it was the most unexpected.
Just as it had outside, the apparition flickered like a satellite television screen during a storm, seized up, and then flicked away in an instant.
As soon as the specter had disappeared, the rest of my senses kicked in again and I was able to hear the utter chaos happening on the first floor.
“My pie! Don’t step on it, Ed!”
“Emma, are you all right? Snowball, get out of the way!”
Within the next ten seconds, my grandpa, grandma, and Snowball were all standing in the entrance to my bedroom, eyes wide, chests heaving. Snowball scurried between my grandparents’ legs and, despite her reluctance to go upstairs with me just a few moments before, took a running leap onto my bed and huddled into the covers.
“Make yourself right at home, Snowball. Ruin my pie and then take a nap,” Grandma muttered.
“Enough with the pie,” Grandpa said, his voice unusually stern. “What is going on up here?”
They were all looking at me, waiting for an answer, and I said the first thing I could think of. “Spider.”
There was a long pause, and then my grandma tilted her head to the side. “A spider?”
“You screamed like that because you saw a spider?” my grandpa asked, mouth hanging open in disbelief.
“Your goat hurled itself across the kitchen, knocked out the leg of my kitchen table, and ruined the pie I spent all evening making because you saw a spider?” Grandma asked, clearly trying to stack on the guilt.
“Sorry,” I said, burying my head between my shoulders.
My grandpa shook his head one more time for good measure and then started down the stairs. “Girl has lost her country edge. Screamin’ at a spider. She could wake the dead with shouting like that.”
Grandma gave me a small, reluctant smile. “We’ll spray for spiders tomorrow. Goodnight, dear.”
“Goodnight, Grandma,” I said. And then, shouting a bit louder so he’d hear me at the base of the stairs. “Goodnight, Grandpa.”
He mumbled something and then I shut the door, pressing my back against it as I surveyed my room, checking to be sure I wouldn’t be surprised by another ghost. Blanche was certainly persistent. I needed to figure out what she wanted from me, and fast. All I had to go on was that when ghosts appeared to me, it always seemed to involve foul play.
As soon as I felt confident I was alone again, except for Snowball who was curled up on the end of my bed, I pulled out my hotspot, fired up my laptop, and slipped under the covers. Blanche’s son had only called me with the news of her death that day, but I was hoping there would be something online about her passing. Anything that would give me a clue as to her cause of death.
An internet search of her name brought up listings of the apartment units she had available and a few social media profiles, but there didn’t seem to be anything regarding her death. Which meant it was either very recent or not worthy of note in any local papers.
Jay Wilkins had proven himself unhelpful on the phone. I had no reason to expect he’d take my call, and if he did, he’d likely hang up when he realized I was calling in regards to his mother’s passing. And despite having lived in the New York City apartment for two years, I didn’t feel comfortable calling a single one of my neighbors. I had never been known for being very outgoing, so we waved to one another when we passed in the halls, but that was it. Anyway, I couldn’t live with Blanche Wilkins popping up unexpectedly forever. I needed to figure out what she wanted now.
One thing was for sure, if Blanche had come all the way from New York City to the middle of nowhere, Missouri, there had to be a good reason. And I intended to find out what it was.
6
I tossed and turned all night. Every time Snowball pressed her cold nose against my leg, I imagined it was a ghostly finger. Every flash of light from my computer charger or my phone charger or my alarm clock sent me shooting bolt upright in bed, prepared for another show from Blanche’s persistent spirit. My lack of sleep gave me plenty of time to think, so by the time the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, I knew what I had to do.
I had to go to New York.
The idea seemed crazy at first. I’d only been in Missouri a few months, and I was just beginning to find my footing again. In fact, I was starting to enjoy life away from the city more than I ever thought possible. However, the more I thought about going back to the city, the more it made sense. I would be able to ask around about Blanche, find out how she died and figure out why she kept showing up in my bedroom. Plus, I would have much better luck shopping for a bridesmaid dress in New York City than I would in Hillbilly Hollow, or even Branson, for that matter.
So, it was settled. I was going to go to New York, and there seemed to be no time like the present. I didn’t want Blanche to become even more bold than she had been and suddenly appear in the laundry room while I was bathing in the old clawfooted tub, so I once again turned on my hot spot and began searching for flights to New York from Branson that same day.
My stomach began to growl as I spent the next thirt
y minutes searching for the best deal, finally booking a flight through National Airlines. Although I was still doing freelance design work, it had certainly taken a backseat to farm work, and my budget was growing a little thin. I couldn’t afford the luxury of extra leg room or priority boarding. My grandpa would have balked at even the suggestion of flying anything other than coach. In fact, he would have balked at the suggestion that he fly instead of drive his ancient, reliable farm truck halfway across the country. Maybe he was right and I had lost my country girl edge.
I had just finished plugging in my debit card information and confirming my flight for that afternoon when I heard tires rolling down the gravel driveway. I’d been up in my room later than I expected and it was already past seven, but it still seemed much too early for Grandpa to be leaving or for anyone else to be coming for a visit. I threw my hair into a messy bun, traded my flannel pajama pants for my trusty jeans, and threw a cream sweater on over my white night shirt. I made it downstairs just in time for my grandma to open the door and usher in Larry Tucker.
Once again, he was wearing street clothes instead of his sheriff’s uniform, and he was holding a bouquet of white daisies.
“Good morning, Mrs. Hooper.”
“Is everything all right?” Grandma asked, clearly concerned at the sight of the sheriff knocking on her door so early in the morning.
“Oh, yes, ma’am. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare ya. I’m here on personal business.”
My stomach plummeted. Personal business? I thought it was supposed to be friends catching up.
“It’s a bit early for personal business,” Grandpa said, coming in the back door, a handful of fresh eggs from the coop bundled in his right hand.
Tucker looked up at the sound of Grandpa’s voice and then noticed me standing at the bottom of the stairs. He held out the flowers towards me. “Hi, Emma.”
I sighed and suddenly wished I’d taken more care to prepare myself for company. I still had morning breath and my face was always an oil slick before I washed it in the morning. “Good morning, Tucker.”
“Sorry if I’m here too early. Guess I was a little eager for our date,” he said.
Grandma spun around, mouth puckered into a tiny ‘O’ of surprise, but I was already shaking my head. “I’m sorry, we had a date?”
Tucker blinked a few times and lowered the bouquet. “I asked ya at the diner last night. You said I could come by the farmhouse whenever.”
“I thought you meant to catch up.” This was excruciatingly awkward, and I was regretting ever getting out of bed. If I’d still been in bed, my grandma likely would have sent him away. Or, she would have let him into my bedroom and this moment would have been even more uncomfortable than it already was.
“Well, yeah,” he said, nodding slowly. “But I’d originally come ‘round to ask you on a date before I found out ya were already at the diner. So, when you told me I could come by the house anytime, I thought you meant I could come by anytime to ask you on a date.”
Tucker was a good-looking man. Anyone with eyes could see that. The trouble was that he could walk down a straight hallway and get turned around. The man wasn’t bright. How he had become a sheriff, the world might never know. What was more, he’d never shown any romantic interest in me before. Where was this even coming from?
“But I didn’t know you wanted to ask me out,” I said.
“But you said I could come by the farmhouse,” he repeated.
I realized I could never fully explain to Tucker that I couldn’t read his mind and therefore, when I’d told him he could come by for a visit, I hadn’t understood what his intentions were. So, instead, I just nodded. “You’re right, I did say that.”
He smiled wide, showing me all of his pearly white teeth. “So, you ready to go, then?”
“Go where?” I asked.
“On our date,” he said, holding up the flowers to me again. “I have a picnic packed in the cooler. I figured we’d go down to the river and do some fishin’.”
My grandma was pressed against the wall, trying to make herself as small as possible while still ogling the encounter before her. She was snapping her head back and forth between me and Tucker like she was watching a tennis match.
“I’m so sorry, Tucker, but I can’t today. I’m busy.”
His brows pulled together. “But you said I could come by the house today.”
“I know I did, but I completely forgot that I’m going out of town today. It’s a last minute trip,” I said, deciding to lie about having pre-planned the trip, rather than explain to him why I’d booked a flight that morning when he had so clearly and obviously asked me out on a date the night before.
“Out of town?” Grandma asked, unable to remain a quiet observer. “Where are you going?”
“New York. I have a few things I need to take care of and I’d like to do it before winter arrives. I don’t want to be flying in a snowstorm.” Again, skimming over the truth seemed to be my best option.
“I didn’t know you were leaving,” Grandma said.
“Sorry.” I winced. “I should have told you sooner. I hope it doesn’t ruin any plans?”
She shook her head. “No, it just seems so sudden. We just got you back a few months ago.”
“It’s only for a few days,” I assured her. “I’ll be here again before you know it.”
“Well, that settles it then,” Tucker said, clapping his hands together.
Somehow, I had completely forgotten Tucker was standing in the doorway. I turned to him, head tilted to the side. “Settles what?”
“I’ve always wanted to see New York in the fall, and I’ve got a lot of unused vacation time. This is perfect.” Tucker was beaming at me, but I was just squinting back at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “When does your flight leave? I probably can’t get a seat on the same flight, but I bet I can work it out so we arrive in New York around the same time. My dad has a lot of frequent flier miles he can loan me.”
The reality of his words began to sink in, and the urge to both laugh and cry overwhelmed me. “Tucker, are you saying you’re going to come with me?”
He nodded. “Yep! Like I said, I’ve always wanted to see New York, and what better way to see it than with a true-blue New Yorker?”
I just shook my head, unable to think of a polite way to explain to him how much I didn’t want him to accompany me.
“That sounds like a great idea,” Grandpa said from the kitchen. He was cracking eggs into a large mixing bowl for scrambled eggs. “I never liked the idea of you running around that city by yourself, Emma. Now, you’ll have someone to look out for you.”
“I lived there for years without any problems, Grandpa,” I said, glaring at the back of his head.
“Didn’t you say just yesterday that your landlady was murdered?” Grandma asked.
“No, I’m not sure how she died,” I said exasperated.
“All the more reason to take Tucker with you,” Grandpa said.
Tucker grinned cheerfully. “Sure enough. I’ll be your bodyguard in the big city, Emma. I don’t have jurisdiction there, but I’ve been trained in hand-to-hand combat. Keepin’ you safe won’t be a problem.”
“There won’t be any need for any kind of combat. And really, Tucker, I’ll be fine. I can go alone.”
“I know ya can, but now ya don’t have to,” he said.
“Then, it’s settled,” my grandpa said, whisking his eggs, still having never turned around once.
“Then, it’s settled,” Tucker repeated.
I looked at my grandma, putting as much emotion into my eyes as possible, hoping she would help dig me out of this hole. Instead, she smiled at me, a wide, mischievous smile, and clapped her hands once in front of her, interlacing her fingers. “It’s settled.”
Her words were the last nail in the coffin. I was going to New York City with Larry Tucker. It was settled.
7
BILLY: When were U planning 2 tell
me U and Tucker skipped from dating 2 taking trips together?
I read Billy’s text and groaned. I didn’t know why I thought it would be possible to get through the trip to New York City without anyone finding out Tucker was tagging along. In Hillbilly Hollow, it was hard to keep what you ate for dinner a secret. The gossip network in the town was well-refined and efficient. I had barely managed to finish packing my suitcase before he’d found out the news.
ME: I was waiting 2 tell U at me and Tucker’s wedding. I’m thinking orange and purple for the colors.
BILLY: That’s so not funny. Seriously, what’s up?
ME: I have 2 go 2 NYC to take care of some things and Tucker invited himself. My grandparents encouraged it. Blame them.
I was staring at my phone, waiting for Billy’s response when my phone began to ring. It was Billy.
He started talking before I could even say hello. “Do you need me to talk to him for you? Because you shouldn’t have to go with him if it makes you uncomfortable. I can tell him to back off.”
Where was this protective side of Billy coming from? He used to splash me with ditch water and run ahead to try and leave me in the woods when we were kids, but now he was my bodyguard?
“It’s fine, really. He’ll have his own hotel room and he hasn’t been to the city before, so he’ll be busy sight-seeing. I doubt we’ll even see each other all that much.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “Why did your grandparents encourage it? Do they like him or something?”
“I don’t think there’s anyone who doesn’t like Tucker,” I said with a nervous laugh.
He hummed. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Besides, their problem was me going to the city alone. They just want someone there to look out for me.”
“You lived in New York for years by yourself,” he said.
“I know but try explaining that to them. They’re stubborn, and this was the easiest way to pacify them.”
