by Eryn Scott
But as much as my words made sense to me, Mom was having none of it. “I’m serious, Rosemary Marie Woodmere. I don’t want you staying there. That man wanted to invest. Why would he kill himself?”
Unsure how to answer that, I said, “I don’t know, Mom. But my friend and I are getting to the bottom of it. Don’t worry. Please.”
Mom sucked in an audible breath on the other end of the line. “Friend?” she asked softly.
I smiled, thinking of Asher. “Yes, Mom. I have a friend.” Althea and Meow came to mind. “A few friends, actually. I fit in here, feel settled for the first time in a long time.” I swallowed as my voice quaked. I didn’t want her to think I had a bad childhood or that I didn’t appreciate everything she’d done for me, all the sacrifices she’d made. “I miss you, so much, but this feels right.”
“So you’re serious about staying?” Her question wasn’t angry or accusatory. Actually, that’s what made it so heartbreaking.
If she’d yelled and ordered me to come home again, I don’t think it would’ve hurt so much. But the quiet acceptance to her tone sounded like a sad rejection.
“I am, Mom.” I kept my words quiet. “I’m learning a lot about Grandma, and”—I took a fortifying breath—“we all made mistakes. She loved us so much. She was wrong, sure, but I wish I’d come and made up with her before she died.” Tears burned at the edges of my eyes. “It might be helpful for you to read the diary she left you and the letter. She gave them to you for a reason.”
A silence sat on the other end, turning my stomach in knots. Finally, Mom said, “I’ll think about it. I’ve got to close up the library. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
My heart ached. She’d shut down, like she did for a while after Dad died. “Okay,” I said, doing the only thing I knew how: be there when she was ready to open back up. “I love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, honey.” Her end of the line clicked off, and my phone dropped the call.
Darkness surrounded the car, and I ran inside, turning on all the lights I could. Somehow having lights on made it feel like I wasn’t alone. And even though I’d just convinced my mom I was okay, that I had friends, that things were going well here, my empty house made me realize all too quickly that things had changed.
“Asher, where are you?” I asked the empty library as I pulled a blanket around my shoulders. “Please, come back.”
My eyelids slid closed, but I didn’t fight sleep. Tomorrow I needed to get some information from a ghost, and even though it wasn’t the ghost I really wanted to see, I hoped she would bring me one step closer to the truth.
“Does this guy ever leave his house?” I whispered to Meow the next day as I surveyed Doc Gallagher’s blue house from the boardwalk.
Meow lay on his side in the middle of the sidewalk, blinking in the sun. While it had poured this morning, the rain had let up as I came into town. For the last half an hour, passersby had stepped on his splayed body, but their feet washed right through him. He seemed offended at first, swishing his tail in quick, agitated jerks, but not enough to get up and move out of the sun. Just like Asher, I was sure his love of sunbeams was more a habit or a memory than a feeling.
At the moment, we were alone, and I needed to talk through my plan. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a plan at all if Doc Gallagher never left his place. From the large sliding glass doors and picture windows facing the water, I could see him making coffee and reading the newspaper. Lois shadowed him during every activity. Those ghosts yesterday at the cannery weren’t kidding; Lois acted as if she and the retired doctor were married.
After forty-seven minutes, I placed my hands on my knees and stood. “Okay, Meow. I’m going in.”
The cat watched me with emerald eyes and then trotted after me as I made my way down to the doctor’s house. If the man wouldn’t leave, I was going to have to figure out some way to get Lois to come outside to me. I pursed my lips. This would be a heck of a lot easier if he didn’t already know who I was. He was less than eager to invite me inside yesterday, and that had been before I’d made him mad.
But even though the cannery ghosts had assured me he wouldn’t hurt my grandma, there was something there. What had they fought about the day she died?
Steeling myself with courage and straightening up to my full height, I poked at the doorbell next to the front door of Doc Gallagher’s house. Today there was no friendly call from inside. The door swung open to reveal a peeved-looking retiree.
“You just can’t leave it alone, can you?” he grumbled, sneering at me through the gap in the door. “And now you’re sitting outside my house watching me?” He gestured to the bench I’d occupied until a few moments ago.
Cringing, I said, “You saw me there?”
He rolled his eyes. “You were only short a pair of binoculars, and you would’ve been a genuine stalker.” A sigh heaved his fishermen’s-wool-sweater-covered chest up and down. “What do you want, Miss Woodmere?”
My mind raced with ideas of how to get Lois to come out and talk to me. Short of yelling her name and running away, I didn’t have much. Remembering the sticky notes all over Grandma’s house, I got an idea that might work.
“Well, as you know, my grandmother died.” Hey, it couldn’t hurt to remind him of my recent loss. “And I’ve been going through her belongings, but she left a note …” I widened my eyes as my brain latched on to an idea. “And I can’t figure out what the note means. So I wondered if you could help me figure that out.” I waited for his reaction.
The doctor’s face paled like he might be sick. “A note? Why do you think I would be able to help? Is is about me?” He asked the three questions in such quick succession that it reminded me of my mom whenever she had a difficult time with a situation.
My face heated at his odd reaction. It looked like I’d been right not to discount him as a suspect. The man was hiding something.
A little smug about flustering him, I leaned in close, narrowing my eyes. “It is.” But my cockiness quickly dissipated as I realized I had no idea what this nonexistent note might’ve said about him.
Just then, I saw Lois flit behind him, across the hall, visible through the open door.
“Uh—the note said, ‘Lois, I know you’re in there! I need to talk to you. It’s very important. Please come outside and meet me, Lois!’” I projected my voice into the house in hope she would hear me. Waves of heat rose in my cheeks as I took in Doc Gallagher’s confused expression. “Weird, huh?”
Please don’t ask how that has anything to do with you, I pleaded, not having thought through my plan that far. At the same time, I listened, hoping for a response from Lois.
“How does that note have anything to do with me?” he asked, his upper lip curling.
I almost groaned.
Pressing my lips together for a moment, I said, “Your address was on the note.” I gave him an I-don’t-know-either shrug. I craned my neck to see inside, around him, but he stepped in my way, closing the door even more.
He clenched his teeth in frustration. “That’s because Lois Butler used to live in this house before I bought it,” he said, biting out the information like he recognized it was the only way to get rid of me. “She and your grandmother were friends back in the day. That’s probably all it was. It must’ve been an old note.” He raised an eyebrow as if asking if that was all.
I was about to slump my shoulders and slink away in defeat when I heard someone yell out from inside, “Were not! We were not friends! I hated Helen.”
Eyes widening at the surprising outburst, I took one last stab, throwing any remaining hope of coming out of this looking sane out the window.
“Okay, well, thank you, Doctor Gallagher, for your time and information. And as my grandma said in her note, ‘Lois! Come outside, please! We need to talk!’” I paused, hoping she’d heard my plea.
The doctor’s features creased in a way that, had he still been practicing medicine, would’ve made me worried he might have me committed to a
psychiatric ward.
“So weird, right?” I said before jogging away from his house. I swear Meow shook his head at me as we left. “What? It’s not like you had a better plan,” I told the cat.
He licked a paw and flicked his tail.
“I’m fully aware that she won’t come out now and what I pulled was crazy. But she wasn’t coming out in the first place, so we’re in the same spot we were before.”
And just as I turned to leave, I walked right through a middle-aged woman.
“Bah!” I jumped, grasping at my heart.
Lois scoffed, “Great, you ask me out here and then act like I’m a surprise. Who is this woman?” The ghost asked Meow as if he might answer.
He yawned.
“Lois, I’m so glad you came outside. Thank you,” I said as the success of my terrible plan settled into my awareness.
“What other choice did I have?” She crossed her arms in front of her. “I’m naturally curious.”
I observed her for a moment. Her brown hair bore streaks of gray, but she had it tucked into such a tight bun I swear it would’ve given her a headache had she still been alive. Her clothes were conservative, but the small, colorful brooch she wore on the pocket of her blouse gave me hope that she might have a less reserved side hidden away.
Literature was usually my standard for relating to people, and this situation was no different. Lois Butler seemed like a terrible mix of James’s Aunt Spiker from before he found the peach and that awful Havisham woman who played around with Pip’s heart. But there was also that brooch and a hint of quiet sadness behind her eyes akin to Beth March’s character that gave me pause.
“Well?” She snapped in front of my face. “What do you need to talk to me about?”
“You’re not surprised that I can see you?” I asked first. Asher’s reaction to me had been so intense, so flabbergasted, it was odd to see this woman acting as if she talked to living people all the time.
“Honey,” she said, placing a hand on her hip, “James Colin Gallagher and I chat all the time. You’re not so special.”
My head jerked back. “He can see ghosts too?”
This was amazing! I mean, he wasn’t the friendliest person I’d met in town, but hearing there was another person out there like me made me feel so much better somehow.
Lois’s countenance fell a little before she caught it and schooled it into a thin smile. “Well, he doesn’t know we’re having conversations … technically. The man talks to himself a lot, and ... well, I answer back.” Her features sank. “Sometimes I forget he doesn’t know I’m there.”
Any excitement I felt fizzled like a candle after someone spat on the wick. “Oh …”
She pointed at me. “Listen, I still have a better chance with that man than your grandmother did.” She said the word grandmother as if it were the name of a terrible flesh-eating disease.
I took a step back. “Whoa, I didn’t even know my grandma wanted a chance with him. I thought they hated each other. Honestly, I came to ask if you’d heard what the fight they got in a couple of weeks ago was all about. He might have something to do with her death.” I let the last part of the sentence out reluctantly, but who was I kidding? I needed her to have the whole truth, and who was she going to tell that I thought my grandma was murdered?
She flinched then bit at her cheek for a moment. “Like I would tell you anything that could get my James in trouble.”
I leaned in close. “Meaning whatever they were fighting about was bad enough that you think he had something to do with Helen’s death?”
She froze as she realized she’d given away too much.
Before I knew what had happened, she was gone.
22
“Oh, she’s not getting away with that,” I muttered, turning back in the direction of the doctor’s house.
And I would’ve walked over there to find her if it weren’t for running into another person. This one, however, was very alive and solid. I stumbled backward, blinking up at who I’d walked into.
“In a hurry?” Police Chief Clemenson asked, stepping back to steady himself from my collision.
“Uh—no, no hurry.”
Still surprised by Lois possibly admitting the doctor had something to do with my grandma’s death, my words were just about as unsteady as my feet at the moment. I glanced over at Doc Gallagher’s house, trying to glimpse that slippery ghost, Lois.
Chief Clemenson followed my line of sight. He cleared his throat. “You’ve been here, outside Doc Gallagher’s house for a while.”
I scoffed. The man called the police on me? I saw him in the sliding glass door, ducking behind a curtain.
“He said you’ve been talking to yourself,” Chief Clemenson continued. “Thought you might’ve threatened him earlier, but in code?” The policeman crossed his arms over his chest as he said this part.
Ugh. The extent to which he was trying to get rid of me told me I definitely threatened the doctor in some way. Which meant he had something big to hide.
“Look, Chief Clemenson, I need you to listen to me.” I turned my back on the doctor’s blue house. “The doctor and my grandmother got in a huge fight the day she was killed. He called you to get me in trouble because he knows I’m close to figuring out what he did, and he wants you to look the other way.”
The chief cocked his head. “Killed? Again with this? She died of a heart attack, young lady. As for looking the other way and distractions, I’m pretty sure you’re making up this whole someone killed my grandma bit, so we won’t look too closely into your connection with Frank Mastronardi.”
I froze. “Wait … didn’t my mother call? She was supposed to call you today.”
He rubbed a hand across his chin. “Oh, she called all right, which only added more questions to my lists about you. We never take too much stock in the word of family members who love our suspects. They’ll often say anything if they think it’ll help. That and the fact that she called so many days after his body washed up seems a little convenient.
I felt like sinking onto the nearby bench in defeat. Mom’s admission should’ve helped me, not hurt my case.
“I promise I didn’t know him,” I said quietly.
“I’ve worked this job too long to believe the promises of suspects, Miss Woodmere.” He folded his arms in front of his large chest.
I groaned. I wasn’t going to change his mind. I also wasn’t, at the moment, in handcuffs. Which meant that as much as Chief Clemenson thought I’d done this, he didn’t have the evidence against me.
I shifted my gaze back to the doc’s house and caught Lois peeking out at me through the window. I needed to talk to her more than ever. How was I supposed to get her out here now?
Glancing up at the police chief, something he said clicked in my brain. I’ve worked this job too long …
“Chief, did you know Lois Butler?” I asked.
He stared down at me for a second. “The one who used to live in that house?” he asked, gesturing to the blue house.
I nodded.
“Well, sure.” He inclined his head.
“What happened to her?” I asked. Because under that tough cop exterior, the man was a small towner at heart, and I banked on him not only having information but wanting to share it.
He scratched his jaw. “Awful story, actually. It happened my first or second year at the station when I’d just come back from the academy. Her husband was very abusive. One night, we got a call from him saying she tripped and fell down the back porch steps.”
We both gave the porch a once-over, perched on the large boulders making up that section of beach. I swallowed, knowing right away anyone tripping and falling on that wouldn’t survive.
“Many people thought her husband pushed her, given his history of abuse, but as much as we could prove he’d hurt her in the past, we couldn’t get enough evidence to pin the murder on him.” The chief's shoulders sagged. “It didn’t end up mattering though. He killed himself a month l
ater.”
I gawked at the house. “In there?” A shiver ran up and down my spine.
“No,” the chief said flatly. “Desperation Cliff, out your way.”
It was a sad story, but his association of me and that cliff made my teeth clench. When I looked back up, he was staring at me.
“Do me a favor, Miss Woodmere?” he said after a moment.
I wet my lips.
“Let your grandma rest in peace.” He stuffed his notebook back into his front pocket, and he walked away.
Balling my hands into fists, I muttered. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”
And to do that, I needed to talk with Lois Butler. As much as I wanted to storm back up to the house and tell her what I thought of her attitude, the police chief’s story had actually given me an idea.
If Lois’s husband was abusive and possibly a killer, that must be why she’s so attached to Doc Gallagher—her James, as she would say. He was a companion who would never tire of hearing her talk, never tell her to go away, and most importantly, never lay a hand on her.
But by living out her faux-domestic-bliss fantasies with Doc Gallagher, Lois wasn’t moving on to the other side. I wasn’t sure if she wanted to, but I was pretty sure I knew how to convince her to live her afterlife.
Facing the doctor’s house once again, I noticed both him and Lois staring out at me from the sliding glass door. I tried to find something white to wave as a makeshift white flag. The only thing even resembling a flag was the thin cream-colored scarf I’d wrapped around my neck before leaving the house.
I pretended to walk away, hoping that would convince Doc Gallagher to go back to whatever he needed to be doing. Meow trotted next to me. I needed to get Lois’s attention without getting more of Doc Gallagher’s. I banked on the fact that she would stay at the window long after he left. The only person with more time on their hands than a retired person was a ghost.
Glancing over my shoulder, I smiled. My gamble had worked. Lois glared at me through the glass. I grabbed the end of my scarf and waved it in her direction, three long passes in front of my body. Then I turned and kept walking down to the next bench. As if he knew my destination, Meow raced forward and leaped onto the bench.
