Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 02 - Frogs, Snails, and a Lot of Wails

by Janet McNulty

  The head waiter seated us immediately and despite the chill in the air I found myself relaxing. We ordered our usual. Greg got the triple bacon burger with fries. I settled for the slightly more healthy option of a chili burger with a salad. Yeah, I know. But I love my burgers.

  Our waiter came over with a bottle of wine. “We didn’t order that,” said Greg.

  “It’s for the lady. From him.” The waiter pointed out a man sitting at the bar. Jeremy. Couldn’t that guy take a hint?

  “Take it back,” I said.

  “You don’t want it?” asked the waiter, confused as to why I would turn down free wine.

  “No,” I said firmly.

  He shrugged and took it away.

  “Why’d you do that?” asked Greg.

  “That guy is Jeremy,” I said, “The one I told you about.”

  “Oh,” said Greg. “He doesn’t look like much.”

  Jeremy may not have looked like much, but he certainly gave me the creeps. To my consternation, he got up and walked over to us.

  “Hello, Mellow,” he said waving his drink.

  “Good-bye,” I replied. A part of me wished that Rachel was still around. She knew how to handle guys like him.

  “Now, that’s no way to talk to me,” said Jeremy.

  “Hey, fella,” said Greg, “She said to leave.”

  “I’ll leave when I’m good and ready,” replied Jeremy. A dark expression covered his features.

  “Mel has made it clear that she doesn’t want to talk to you. Now leave.”

  Jeremy took a swing at Greg. Greg blocked and socked him in the face. Jeremy swung again knocking Greg onto the table forcing me to jump out of my chair. The two wrestled knocking down more tables and chairs. Platters of food went everywhere. People screamed as they tried to get out of the way.

  Suddenly, a couple of cops appeared. They pried Jeremy and Greg apart.

  “What’s going on here,” said one.

  “He started it,” said Greg.

  “Your slut girlfriend started it,” snapped Jeremy.

  Greg lunged at him. Others within the crowd held him back.

  “Enough,” said one of the cops. “Either one of you want to press charges?”

  They shook their heads.

  The owner of the café stormed out of the kitchen in a huff.

  “Do you want to press charges?” asked the same officer.

  “No,” said the owner, “But I want them out. Now.”

  We had little choice but to obey. Greg and I took our food in to go boxes, since it had already been cooked and the head chef brought it out. We went home.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning Jackie and I both had the opening shift. I was glad. It had been awhile since we had the same shift and I needed something to take my mind off of Timothy and the string of robberies. We reported early for work and got everything set up for opening.

  The spring collection display had been taken down. Thank goodness. I couldn’t do another day of peppermint. I was equally glad to find that Tammy wasn’t scheduled to work. Little Miss Perky was too much to handle.

  The Candle Shoppe was unusually busy today. Customers showed up right at opening. We maintained a steady flow. I wondered why so many people had shown up for candles and incense. Then it occurred to me that the recent theft might have something to do with it. People are always drawn to such things.

  Once again I had to restock the shelves with incense, candle, and the like. I calmly spent the afternoon placing products on the metallic shelves arranging them in a way that was pleasing to the eye. I sniffed one of the candles. Its citrusy scent was pleasing.

  I loved the smell of the shop. All of our candles were scented. Add the aroma therapy oils and you had a place basking in different fragrances. Some people thought the smell overwhelming, but not me. But especially not after the peppermint fiasco.

  “A present for my lady.”

  I looked up from my work. Jeremy stood next to me holding out a bunch of flowers. Warily, I took them. They smelled lovely, but I remained unsure of his intentions.

  “Jeremy,” I said. “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you flowers,” he said as though it should have been obvious.

  “You know what I mean,” I replied, “I told you, I’m already am seeing someone. I cannot accept these.”

  “Why not,” challenged Jeremy. “They are only flowers.”

  “You know that it is more than that,” I said. “Take them and go.”

  “I’m trying to say that I am sorry for last night,” said Jeremy. “I was a little drunk.”

  “Look,” I said, “I don’t care about last night. I told you more than once to leave me alone. Now, please, go.”

  Jeremy grasped my arm tightly. His grip was too tight for my taste. I felt his nails digging into my skin. “You know that you want them.”

  I yanked my arm out of his grip. “Get out,” I said. I pushed my way past him heading back to the counter.

  “I am only asking for one date.”

  “I said ‘no’.” I moved away from him.

  Jeremy closed the distance. He had a crazed look in his eye. It made me extremely uncomfortable and all I wanted to do was get away from him.

  “Is there a problem?” Mr. Stilton had come out of his office.

  “No,” said Jeremy.

  Mr. Stilton looked at me and then back at Jeremy. “I must ask you to leave.”

  “What?”

  “I cannot allow anyone to harass my employees. Now, unless you are here to purchase something you must go.”

  Jeremy stepped toward me getting close enough to whisper in my ear. “This isn’t over.” He threw the flowers on the floor and stomped out of the store.

  Jeremy’s ominous warning spooked me. After last night, I believed anything was possible. He just might make good on his threat. But then, what could he do to me?

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Jackie when I told her my fears. “He can’t do anything. Guys like him are all smoke and mirrors.”

  “You’re probably right,” I said.

  “Though, if you want, you can have Tiny take him for a ride.”

  I gaped at her. That was the first time my sweet, little Jackie recommended such a thing. Though, Tiny would gladly do it.

  “I’m kidding,” said Jackie when she saw my face.

  “No you weren’t,” I retorted.

  “Of course I wasn’t.”

  An old lady cleared her throat reminding us that we were both still at work. “Hey, Mrs. Fields,” I greeted ringing up her stuff, “How are you today?”

  “Oh I’m fine dear,” she replied. Mrs. Fields was a regular. She came in twice a week to buy incense. Though why she needed so much incense was beyond me.

  “Twenty-five even,” I told her.

  She handed me a twenty and a five. I loved how she always gave exact change. She’d count out pennies if she had to.

  “You should have beaten the snot out of that guy,” she said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I mean it. A strong woman like you. You could have taken him.”

  “It probably wouldn’t have been proper,” I replied not sure where this was going.

  “What do you mean? When my fourth husband got out of line I buried him in the backyard.”

  Now I was getting a bit concerned. For a woman who usually said nothing, she was being quite talkative. “Fourth husband?”

  “Yes,” said Mrs. Fields, “I’m on my sixth now. I seem to keep going right through them.”

  “What happened to number five?” asked Jackie.

  “Oh, he died,” said Mrs. Fields in a very matter of fact tone.

  “Of natural causes?” Jackie asked. I knew what Jackie thought. She thought the same thing I did: this woman is nuts.

  “Well what else would he have died of,” said Mrs. Fields. “Though, my Charlie hasn’t been looking to well lately. I guess if he goes, I’ll just have to move on to number
seven.”

  I handed Mrs. Fields her bag. “You have a good afternoon, Mrs. Fields.”

  “Oh, I will, dearie. Good-bye.”

  Jackie and I watched her leave. Six husbands? Just move on to the next one? Yikes.

  “Do you really think she killed her husband,” I whispered to Jackie.

  “At least now we know why she needs all that incense,” Jackie whispered back.

  I had gotten off early and decided to stroll around town for relaxation. A small plaza with green grass lay in the town’s center. It had a fountain with running water that helped add to its park like atmosphere. I often went there to relax when I felt stressed. There hadn’t been any thefts lately, and my break from classes would soon be over.

  I hadn’t seen Timothy since I had found out that he had lied. I didn’t concern myself too much about that. I figured he felt guilty for what he had done. The question that plagued my mind was why would he lie to me? It didn’t make any sense. If he knew he wasn’t murdered, then something else kept him here.

  Ever since Rachel, my life has definitely been more interesting. Though, not necessarily the good kind of interesting. What can I say? Sometimes I wished I had never been introduced to the idea of talking to ghosts. But then, her murder would have remained unsolved. I decided that at some point I would have to seek Timothy out and get the truth from him. He had to have had a reason for doing what he did.

  Besides, there was definitely something weird going on in town. All those robberies. Only small, but extremely valuable items being taken. This wasn’t being done by one or two people. My guess is that there was a group of people participating in them. Working together to take certain items. Ones easy to heist and hide.

  I kept thinking that there was another reason why they chose this place. This was a medium sized town and not exactly one that was rolling in wealth. Like every town it had its one or two people that were rich, but most of the people here were middle class. Unless of course you were a college student. Then you were guaranteed to be broke.

  A white van drove past me. I recognized it immediately. It was the same van. I jumped to my feet and ran after it down the sidewalk. It didn’t go very fast. Eventually I found it parked on the side of the road. I looked in the window. No one. That means that they had already decided on a target and were there. But what would they steal next?

  I stood there wondering what to do next. I could really use a ghost right about now. “Timothy, I need you,” I whispered. Maybe on some existential plane he could hear me. Though, I didn’t hold my breath.

  A sound above me caught my attention. I looked up. On the telephone pole was a workman. He turned away from me the moment our eyes met and pretended to be busy. Strange, I thought. Though it’s not unusual for a repairman to fix a phone line either.

  I didn’t have time to think about it.

  “Hey you!”

  Greg walked toward me. “Hey,” I replied, “What are you doing here?”

  “Nothing,” said Greg, “OK, well, I was talking with Jack and had him look some stuff up for me.”

  We walked down the street. “What did you have him look up?”

  “The items that have been reported missing,” said Greg. “Most of the items that have been stolen are small. Jewelry, computer parts, antique type things. All easily fenced. They are small enough to fit in a suitcase, yet valuable enough to sell.

  “Someone is always willing to buy an engraved thing dating back two hundred years, or jewelry. Most of these can be sold on the black market or overseas. Basically, all of these things cobbled together will make anyone rich.”

  “But no one person could steal all this stuff. And the museum incident was done by at least two people,” I said.

  “Yes,” said Greg, “That Is what Detective Shorts thinks. According to Jack, Shorts believes that it is about six people and that they are holed up some place.”

  “Where?”

  “He doesn’t know. My guess that it is probably a place that is a bit remote and away from prying eyes. But close enough for them to continue their robberies.”

  “Makes sense,” I said, “But why stay so long? They’ve been here at least a week and the longer they’re here the greater the chance of being caught.”

  “According to Jack,” said Greg, “There has been a string of thefts all around New England. Mostly in towns the size of this one. The same sort of items go missing, but no one ever sees anything. The thieves only stay for about a week and then move on.

  “However, Jack believes that they are still here because of the Rose Pendant.”

  “But that has been missing for over a century.”

  “True, but like all stories, almost everyone knows about it. Every so often someone attempts to find it. Mostly, it’s people seeking glory, fame, or fortune. My guess is that is what they are after. It would certainly bring them a fortune.

  “Maybe that is why they chose this place. “

  “But why commit the other thefts?” I asked.

  “Habit,” said Greg, “According to Jack, that is the pattern of these thieves. Besides, a lot of people have sought the Rose Pendant and came up empty. The chances are great that they will have the same outcome. So, why not steal some other stuff to make up the difference?”

  “Makes sense,” I said. “But they can’t be staying here much longer.”

  “No,” said Greg, “They’ll probably leave within the next couple of days. The longer they’re here the greater the chance of being caught. And Detective Shorts is determined to catch these people.”

  “So how are we to find them?”

  “Find them? Oh no. You are staying out of it.”

  “But Timothy—”

  “Jackie told me that he lied. My guess is he’s disappeared for good.”

  I looked at my feet.

  “You miss him, don’t you?”

  Guilty. Despite the fact he lied, I missed that little nerd. I wondered if maybe he had accidentally ran into them before he died, or even after he died.

  “Grew on you didn’t he?” asked Greg.

  “Yes,” I said. “So where are we off to next?”

  “You’re going home,” replied Greg. “I have to get to work.”

  I frowned at him. He kissed me good-bye and I headed for my car. Jackie waited for me.

  “Where were you?” she asked.

  “Just wandering around,” I said. “You ready to leave?”

  “As long as we pick up something to eat first.”

  Food. Sometimes I think that was all Jackie thought about. I sometimes wondered how she managed to stay so thin considering all the food she ate.

  I pulled into a place that served Mexican food. They had a carry-out section. Jackie went in and ordered for both of us. Ten minutes later, she came out with bags of food. We decided we would get our drinks at home.

  It wasn’t long before I drove into my parking space at the apartment complex and we had carried our food inside. Jackie grabbed some plates and set the table while I pulled out the Styrofoam boxes of food. One had opened a bit and as I took it out of the plastic bag it squirted some red sauce onto my shirt.

  “Damn,” I grumbled.

  “What?”

  “I spilled some stuff on my shirt. I’m going to go change.”

  I went to my room and pulled out a simple t-shirt. At least it had missed my jacket. I ripped it off. Something clinked on the floor. Quickly, I picked it up and studied it. It was the key from the mansion. I remembered I had placed it in my jacket pocket and then left it there.

  I thought it strange that it was hidden in a candle holder. No one puts anything of value in a place where it will get damaged. Unless they wanted to keep it from being found. Or were in a hurry and hadn’t time to find a better place to keep it secret.

  Forgetting about the food, I knew I had to get back to the Pen Mills Estate. There was something we missed when we were there earlier.

  Wrenching my jacket back on, I ran into the kitch
en and grabbed Jackie.

  “Ready to eat,” she said.

  I seized her wrist and yanked her toward the door. At the same time I snatched my phone and keys. “Come on.”

  “Wait,” cried Jackie, “What about the food?”

  “Later,” I said, “We need to get back to the mansion.”

  “Oh no,” said Jackie pulling her arm from my grasp. “I’m not going back to that place.”

  I showed Jackie the key. “This belongs to something in there. And I think it might be what the thieves are looking for.”

  “I don’t want to go back there,” said Jackie.

  “Fine,” I said in frustration, “I’ll go myself. And if some ghost kills me it will be your fault.”

  “Fine,” groaned Jackie, “But only if we make it brief.”

  I agreed. I didn’t want to be there any longer than necessary anyway.

  Chapter 9

  Dusk had settled as we pulled up in front of the mansion. I parked well away from the street. I made certain that my lights were off. In my car the headlights will remain on even if the engine is off, unless you flip off the switch. Such is the joy of driving an older car.

  I made certain to grab my spare flashlight from the glove compartment. Considering how quickly the sun was setting we would definitely need it.

  “How many flashlights do you have?” asked Jackie.

  “A few,” I replied.

  We paused on the front steps of the entranceway.

  “It’s a bit ironic that we are entering a haunted building at night,” said Jackie.

  “There’s no such thing as hauntings,” I said trying to summon up my courage. Let’s face it, the entire place looked spooky and still sent chills down my back.

  “Says the girl who speaks to ghosts,” snapped Jackie.

  “Come on,” I said.

  Before we reached the heavy oak door, it swung open. We stood there gaping at it. A burst of stale air escaped the house’s interior blowing around us.

  “Still don’t believe in haunted houses?”

  I didn’t answer. The door with a will of its own unnerved me. It was as though the house had been expecting us. I moved inside flipping on my light. Jackie ran up behind me grasping my arm tightly in agitation.