“Why don’t you go somewhere else?”
“Because my body’s under that black junk in front of the place.”
“You mean you’re buried under the parking lot?”
“He’s what?” Walt said.
“Ask him about Frank,” Grandma Alma said eagerly.
“Frank who?” Walt asked.
“Ol’ Blue Eyes, of course,” she replied.
“Why would he know about him?”
“Because he told Cam that he knew him. I had the biggest crush on Frank when I was young.”
“Yeah, Frank had that effect on every woman,” Mac chuckled. “He could charm the skirts off…”
“TMI,” I interrupted him.
“What is TMI?”
“Too much information,” I told him.
“Did he know any real gangsters?” Grandma Alma said.
“Gangsters?” Walt said. “Who the heck is this guy?”
“Stop!” I said, holding up my hands. “Do you mind if I ask the questions here?”
“Where’s your father?” she said.
“In his room reading, probably.”
“Good. He wouldn’t be happy about having a ghost around.”
Mac seemed to be thrilled about all the attention he was getting. I had a feeling he wasn’t really what he pretended to be.
Leaning back and crossing my arms, I said, “You weren’t really a gangster, were you?”
“Of course I was!” Mac replied indignantly. “I was one of the most feared men around. Ask anybody.”
“I think you’re full of it,” I told him as I stood up. “Go back to the wedding chapel, go downstairs, go wherever you want. Just go away.” I looked at the newlyweds. “We’ve got a flight out in the morning, and we’re all going home together.”
“Of course, dear,” Grandma Alma said. “We already have our plane tickets. Did you think we were going to stay here forever?”
“Mother isn’t too happy with you, you know.”
“Pft, she’ll get over it. Tell her to pull up her big girl panties and deal with it.”
“Grandma!”
Mac laughed. “I like her; she’s feisty.”
I ignored him. “She’s not going to get over it. You took off without telling anyone where you were going.”
“Let me tell you something, missy,” Grandma Alma said. “I may be eighty-four-years old, but I’m not dead yet. I don’t need her, you, or anyone telling me what I can and can’t do. All this bologna about having to stay at the home all the time, not going anywhere without being checked out by someone…well, it’s going to stop. I know what I can and can’t eat; I’m also well aware of my physical limitations. But I’m still as sharp as a tack, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to spend the rest of my life sitting in that fake cheerful place, pretending everything is just fine. Walt and I are going to do what we want, when we want, and if you, your mother, Mike, or anyone else don’t like that, too bad!”
I looked at Walt, who was nodding his head. “What she said goes for me, too.”
For a moment, I wondered if Mother was going to be like this when she was eighty-four. God help me if she was. But Grandma Alma made some very valid points, and I couldn’t argue with any of them. “You’re right.”
“And another thing…wait, what?”
“I said you’re right.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“That was too easy,” she said suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”
“I might have talked to Pete about this.”
“Great, now we just have to convince your mother.”
“You’re on your own.”
“Why don’t we go downstairs and play some poker?” Grandma Alma said.
“You’re not allowed to play poker,” I reminded her, “only slots.”
“What are we going to do about you know who?” Walt said, looking around the room.
“Who?”
“Casper.”
“My name is Mac, not Casper, you old geezer.”
“Hey, hey, that’s my grandfather you’re talking about!” I glared at Mac. “Mind your manners.”
Mac put his fedora on. “You guys are boring. I’m leaving.” He walked through the room door.
I hoped that was the last we were going to see of the fake gangster.
Frankly, I hoped that was the last ghost I was going to see again, period.
Cha
pter 4
Thursday
The rest of the Las Vegas trip had been uneventful. We never saw Mac again, which thrilled me to no end. Once we got home, Grandma Alma sat down with Mother and had a long talk with her. I’m not sure what was said, but the two of them came to an understanding. The newlyweds moved into a little cottage on the nursing home grounds, and were extremely happy. There were rumors about poker games that went on for hours, which didn’t surprise me one bit. I just hoped she was letting the others win once in awhile.
On Thursday afternoon, I parked near the theatre and got out. The outside of the building was not impressive. It was hexagon shaped, painted grey, and had been built in the early 1900s. But once you stepped inside, it became breathtaking. The inside always reminded me of a circus tent in a way, with more than a dozen pillars equally spaced around the room. Handcrafted wood flooring, paneling, and ceiling, with handmade benches...it was true craftsmanship at its finest, as my father would say. Where normally there would be paned glass, there were shutters that could be removed to let in the cool spring air, or covered during bad weather. It was capable of seating nine hundred people, but with the tables set up, it could handle maybe three hundred. The benches were lined up on either side of rectangular tables, with wooden chairs at either end. Thirty tables were set around the spacious theatre, with long tables set in front of two walls in the back, where the caterer would set up the buffet.
There were three ways to get up to the stage: steps on either side, and a set of steps up the middle. The gold curtains were closed, and I could hear some hammering coming from behind it. Someone was probably doing some last minute work on the set.
“Cam, I need you to put the silverware on the tables, please,” Mother said as she walked over to me. “One of the girls had an emergency at home and had to leave.”
“Happy to help, Mother.”
I picked up the large basket of silverware and carried them into the dining room. Fifteen tables were covered with red tablecloths, the other fifteen covered with green. White cloth napkins sat next to white plates with gold edging. I sat my basket in a chair at the nearest table and got to work.
“No, my dear, the smallest fork goes to the outside, not closest to the plate,” a female voice said next to me. I looked up to see a young woman, about thirty-five-years old, standing on the other side of the table. Standing about five foot six, she had short, curly blonde hair and blue eyes. She was wearing a short-sleeved, royal blue dress, with a double strand of pearls around her neck. The skirt of the dress was pleated, and she was wearing royal blue heels. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and I felt a tinge of jealousy. There was no way I could ever look that good in a dress.
“You mean like this?” I said, rearranging the forks.
“Exactly,” she said.
She followed me from table to table, making sure everything was set correctly, from the napkins to the glasses. With her help, it didn’t take me very long to finish. “Thank you so much,” I said, giving her a grateful smile. “If my mother had seen the mistakes I was making, I’d have to start all over.”
“It’s easy once you get used to it,” she told me. “I love giving dinner parties. It’s so much fun.”
I wasn’t sure about the fun part, but I certainly didn’t mind going to one. I bent over to pick up the now empty basket, and when I looked up, the woman was gone. Whistling, I went over to Mother for my next assignment. “Thank you for sending your friend to help me,” I said, putting the basket on the table next to her.
�
�What friend?”
“The woman who just helped me set the tables. She never told me her name. I just assumed you sent her in to make sure I did everything right the first time.”
“Cam, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t send anyone in to help you. The florist left the floral arrangements in the box office building. Would you please put them on the tables?”
I went outside, grabbed a couple of arrangements, and carried them into the theatre. On my second trip, I saw someone sitting at one of the tables and groaned. “What are you doing here?”
“Just checking the place out,” Mac said with a grin. “Who’s the dame with the pearls that I saw earlier?”
Suddenly, I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I sat the flowers down in the middle of the table with a thump, and did the same thing to the next two arrangements. “Go away, Mac,” I growled quietly as I left the room.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he replied as he popped up beside me in the hallway. “Looks like this is where all the action is, anyway. You having some big shindig or something?”
“Or something,” I said, picking up three more arrangements.
“Come on now, don’t be like that,” Mac said, following me like a lost puppy. “I haven’t seen much since I’ve been in this rinky dink little town. The most fun I’ve had is watching your grandmother cleaning up at the poker table. Are you sure she didn’t work in Vegas when she was younger?”
I started to deny it, then stopped myself. I really didn’t know what my grandmother did before she married my grandfather. “Why do you want to know about the woman?” I said, changing the subject.
“Because I’m interested, and she looks familiar.”
“I don’t know who she is.”
“You mean you don’t know all the ghosts in your own backyard?”
That sick feeling turned into a giant block of dread. “How do you know she’s a ghost?”
“I’ve been a ghost for fifty years. Don’t you think I’d be able to recognize another ghost when I see one?”
I rubbed my hands over my face. Two ghosts. What has happened to my life?
########
“I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this whole dinner theatre thing,” I told Randy an hour later at his bookstore.
“Why? Because of your ghosts?”
“They are NOT my ghosts.”
“Well, you’re the only one who can see them, so that makes them yours,” Randy said.
“You’re not helping.”
He grabbed a stack of paperbacks off the counter and headed for the mystery section. “Let’s look at this from a different perspective,” he said, putting the books on a shelf. “The last time you saw a ghost, there was a murder to solve, correct? So maybe you’re seeing these two ghosts for the same reason.”
“So you think they’re here for me solve their murders? That’s assuming that I want to go through that again, after what happened the last time.”
“Your Vegas ghost is obviously a victim of a mob hit.”
“What?”
“You said yourself he admitted to being connected to the mob.”
“No, I said he made it sound like he was involved with the mob. I don’t believe he was, regardless of what he says.”
“That hurts,” Mac said from behind me. I jumped, knocking some books and pens to the floor.
“What’s the matter?” Randy said. “You look like something just scared you to death.”
“Leg cramp,” I said, rubbing an imaginary ache on my calf.
“A leg cramp made you knock all this off the counter?”
“It caught me off guard,” I replied, bending down to pick up the merchandise.
“Drink more water, then you won’t have that problem.”
“You’re exactly right. I’ll do that.”
Randy looked at her. “All right, what’s really going on?”
“Nothing.”
“I mention the mob, and you freak out.”
“I did not freak out.”
“Yeah, you did,” Mac said.
It took everything I had not to respond. But the next time I got him alone…
The bell over the door rang, and I turned around to see Mike walk in. “I thought you were going to call me when you got back,” he said, giving me a warm embrace.
“I did call a couple of times, but I just got your voicemail.”
“You could have left a message.”
“I figured you were busy.”
“You aren’t avoiding me, are you?”
“Of course not!”
“I’d avoid him if I were you,” Mac said disgustedly. “He’s a cop. They cause nothing but problems.”
“I saw Grandpa and Alma this morning,” Mike said, unaware of Mac’s presence. “They seem to be settling into married life at their new house. How did you manage to get that for them?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with it,” I said. “They did that all on their own.”
“You mean this guy is related to that cop who married your grandmother?” Mac said. “I haven’t been around this many cops since the last time they raided our hideout in ’53!”
“We need to get them some housewarming gifts,” Randy said. “Is there anything that they need?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. But I’ll ask them,” I replied. “Anything exciting happen while I was gone?”
“Not really,” Mike said, leaning against the counter. “Another protest at Ingram Properties.”
“What was it about this time?” Randy asked.
“Ingram wants to buy some property in a residential area, with plans to build some retail stores with residential lofts above the stores. People in the neighborhood aren’t happy, because it could raise their property taxes, not to mention the area isn’t zoned for businesses.”
“Something I’m sure Joey Ingram will take care of, I’m sure,” I said.
“He’s already talking to the city council,” Mike confirmed. “But that’s not the worst part of it.”
“What’s the worst part?”
“It’s in your neighborhood.”
“What? Tell me you’re joking.”
“Afraid not. Sorry.”
“What part of my neighborhood is he looking at?”
“I believe it’s down the street from your house, on the side that is facing Brown.”
“That’s a couple of blocks from me!” I said, shaking my head.
“You’re not the only one who’s upset. But don’t join any of the protests. I would hate to have to explain to your mother why I arrested you.”
“Could this day possibly get any worse?” I said, turning around and putting my head down on the counter.
Mike looked at me, then at Randy. “What’s her problem?”
I jerked my head up and glared at my best friend. “Don’t EVEN…”
“She’s having some ghost issues.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “You just can’t keep a secret these days, can you?”
“What does he mean, ghost issues?” Mike asked me. “Have you seen another one?”
“Maybe.”
“What kind of answer is that? You’ve either seen one or you haven’t. Which is it?”
“Actually, she’s seeing two of them.”
“Oh my god, will you shut up? What is it with you?”
“He already knows you can see ghosts, Cam. He saw the last one, remember? You cannot build a healthy relationship if you start keeping secrets from each other.”
“What are you, the honesty police? Besides, you’re the one that told me not to date Mike, remember?” Two could play at this game.
Mike whistled, which made both of us look at him. “Time out. What is going on? And did you really tell her not to go out with me, Randy?”
“Maybe once or twice,” he muttered.
“More like every day for three months,” I said.
Mike looked like he wanted to punch Randy
in the face, but he controlled the urge “What is this about ghosts?”
“Nothing, not a thing,” I told him. The last time I had gotten involved with a ghost, Mike hadn’t been able to see Stanley until the night Amelia Ashton, Mike, and I were held at gunpoint by Stanley and Amelia’s son, Artie, at the Ashton house. We never figured out why Mike could see Stanley. I hadn’t wanted to say anything about Mac at all. Walt, Grandma Alma, and I had all agreed not to say a word about him to the rest of the family. Granted, I had told Randy, but that was out of sheer frustration. Was I paying for it now! “You’re still coming with me to the dinner, right?”
He nodded. “I’m looking forward to it. Informal?”
“Oh, definitely. I wouldn’t have agreed to go if I’d had to wear a dress.”
Mike’s radio crackled. “Chief, we’ve got a problem at the tire place. Some kids swiped a couple of the big tractor tires, and they’re rolling each other down the street, blocking traffic.”
“I’m on my way,” he replied. “Sorry, duty calls.”
“I’ll see you after work?”
“Definitely,” he said, giving me a quick kiss before walking to the door. “Then you can tell me about these ghosts you’ve seen.” He waved as he left.
I spun around and stared at Randy, who had plastered his innocent “I didn’t mean to say anything” look on his face that I was more familiar with. “Why did you tell him?”
“Honesty is the most important thing in a relationship,” Randy said.
“I can think of a few things that are more important,” the ghost replied.
“Shut up, Mac.”
“Ooh, you mean he’s here, right now?” Randy said, looking around. “Where is he standing?”
“Behind me, making snarky comments.”
Randy glanced over my shoulder. “I don’t see him. Is he cute?”
“He’s not bad, although I prefer the strong, silent ghost.”
Mac snorted. “That’s not going to happen. I’ve never been one to keep my mouth shut.”
“That’s probably the reason you’re dead,” I retorted.
“That was uncalled for.”
“Truth hurts.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Randy said, holding up a hand. “Would you mind not arguing with the ghost in front of me? I’m only getting one side of this conversation, and I have to say, Cam, you’re being very mean.”
Who Invited the Ghost to Dinner: A Ghost Writer Mystery Page 3
