by Rose Pressey
“Easy, I’ll find out who chews gum.” I strolled back over to the counter.
Charlotte and Peggy laughed at the same time.
“Why is that funny?” I asked.
Charlotte waved her arm for dramatic emphasis. “Just like that, huh? You’ll find out who was chewing gum at the Sugar Creek Theater the day Morris was murdered. Even better, you’ll find out who was right there at the crime scene chewing gum. It could have fallen out of someone’s pocket days before the murder.”
“Don’t be logical and burst my bubble.”
Peggy popped another bubble at that exact second.
“At least let me check. It’ll make me feel as if I am making progress,” I said.
“All I’ll say is good luck with that,” Charlotte said, giving a little salute.
I narrowed my eyes. “I’ll show you.”
I pulled out my notepad and pen so that I could take notes.
Charlotte leaned against the counter. “What are you doing?”
“Not that I should tell you, but I’m making a list of suspects so that I can check on each one. I will find out who likes to chew gum.”
“I seriously think you’ve cracked this time,” Charlotte said.
Peggy leaned closer so she could read my list. The whole time she was twisting the gum around her index finger before shoving it back into her mouth.
“Will you stop doing that? You’re making me gag,” Charlotte said, and scowled.
Peggy continued chewing, impervious to Charlotte’s comment.
“So we have Marie, James Chrisman, Patricia his wife, and is there anyone else I’m missing?” I tapped the pen against my bottom lip.
“What if none of them is the killer?” Peggy asked.
“Then I have a problem,” I said. “I guess I’d have to start looking for someone else. I refuse to give up.”
Giving up on the list for the time being, I went about my day working. The ghosts were sitting on the settee as I sorted through a bunch of clothing I’d picked up at the estate sale. Peggy sighed, but I continued working. She exhaled again, even louder this time, and a couple seconds later she repeated the sound.
“I think she wants your attention,” Charlotte said.
I put the dress down and focused on Peggy. “Is something wrong?”
She slumped her shoulders. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about my death. I know you’ve been busy with finding Morris’s killer, but do you think there’s any hope of finding out what happened to me.”
Charlotte had told me to look into Peggy’s death and I planned on it, but I guess I’d made Heather my priority. Now Peggy’s sad face was heartbreaking.
I gathered up the rest of the clothing and placed it on the counter. “Brianna is supposed to be back in ten minutes. I suppose I could leave and do a little research about your death, Peggy.”
She jumped up from the settee. “Really? Do you mean it?”
“Of course. Maybe I can look at the library and see if there’s anything in the paper about your death.”
“Honestly, Cookie, I can’t believe it took you this long.” Charlotte waggled her finger at me.
With a sinking feeling in my stomach I dialed Dylan’s number. I’d been putting off the call. I should have done it right away. What would he say about what he’d seen? I knew what I’d think if the tables had been turned.
“Cookie Chanel, how are you?” Dylan asked.
Usually he didn’t answer the phone by saying my whole name. That meant that he was definitely upset with me. Now what would I do? I didn’t think Dylan had ever been upset with me. Not for anything other than telling me not to get involved with murder cases. After that I’d promptly proceed to ignore his request. I always had good intentions, though, so that counted for something.
“I was just calling to talk to you about earlier today,” I said.
Charlotte and Peggy were clinging on to every word, as if watching their favorite television drama.
“What about today?” he asked.
He knew exactly what I meant, but he was going to make me come out with it. Okay, fair enough. It was the least I could do.
“Well, I know you saw me talking with Ken today, and he was giving me flowers, but it’s definitely not as it seems.” I rushed my words.
“How did it seem?” he asked.
Wow, he really was upset with me.
Charlotte studied the crimson-colored polish on her fingernails. “Well, at least you have Ken to date.”
I brushed off Charlotte’s comment. “Maybe there was a romantic gesture with the flowers.”
“There’s a romantic gesture with the flowers?” The tone of Dylan’s voice changed, as if he was even more upset.
I could lie and say that there wasn’t, but I had a suspicion that Ken wanted more of a romance between us.
“I suppose that maybe Ken would like to date me,” I said.
“And what about you? How do you feel?” Dylan asked.
Dylan and I had been dating for a while, yet Dylan had always avoided the subject of Ken. It was odd, really. Now was finally the time when he’d ask. I knew it would happen sooner or later.
“Ken and I are friends. I consider him a dear friend,” I said.
“I think you’re avoiding the question, Cookie,” Dylan said.
“I think so too,” Charlotte said.
Did Charlotte and Peggy have to listen to every word of the conversation? I had to explain my feelings now, once and for all. But I couldn’t admit to Dylan that I had thought of dating Ken in the past. That was when we first met, and I hadn’t been exclusive with Dylan.
“I’m dating you now, and I hope that you feel confident with my feelings for you,” I said.
“Just tell him you love him,” Peggy said. “Trust me, sometimes it’s too late to do those things.”
She was right about that, but I was nervous to make that big step. What if he didn’t tell me in return? Maybe he didn’t have those feelings for me at all.
“So you see, the roses were nothing romantic.”
Now I had to tell him the reason we had been at the flower shop in the first place.
“You see, Dylan, the reason we were there . . . well, it has to do with the florist. So we went in there, and of course, we had to buy flowers.”
I chuckled, but Dylan didn’t laugh in return.
“You could have told me about this and I would have gone to the florist. Why did you tell Ken and not me?”
“Oh, now he sounds mad,” Charlotte said.
“I think it was a coincidence that Ken walked by and spotted me hiding in the bushes.”
After a pause, Dylan said, “Okay, continue.”
“Well, Ken didn’t need his flowers, so he gave them to me.”
“I thought I asked you to stay out of this investigation,” Dylan said.
“People in hell want ice water too.” Charlotte scoffed.
“Yes, you asked and I simply didn’t listen,” I said.
“Cookie, you’re going to get yourself in trouble.”
I knew I could avoid his questioning by using the same tactic I always played . . . changing the subject.
“Anyway, Marie delivered flowers to the theater that day. I think maybe we should check her out. She was inside the theater right before the murder.”
“Okay, I’ll check it out.”
“He’ll thank you for this lead later,” Charlotte said.
I certainly hoped so.
“Stay out of trouble. I’ll call you soon, okay, Cookie?”
At least he wasn’t using my last name now.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Charlotte asked.
I waved off her comment and got back to work.
After Brianna arrived, the ghosts and I headed for the library. Wind Song stayed back at the shop. I wheeled into the library and found a parking space.
As we walked toward the entrance, Charlotte said, “I bet Dylan might be able to find some inform
ation about Peggy.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother him. He’s too busy,” Peggy said.
“Plus, he’s probably mad at her for flirting with Ken in the bushes.” Charlotte continued walking, looking straight ahead as she spoke.
“I was not flirting.” I glared at her, but she didn’t bother to look my way to notice.
I’d try to find details about Peggy first. If I had no luck maybe I’d casually mention it to Dylan. He wasn’t angry with me. At least that was what he’d said. He had a lot on his plate, though, with finding Morris’s killer. I hoped they really were looking for a killer. What if they were just focused on Heather and Dylan didn’t have the heart to tell me?
We stepped inside the library and I paused. The space was large and I had no idea which way to head. I spotted the reference desk and figured I’d ask the librarian for help. They’d recently moved things around when they’d remodeled. It looked as if I might be the only patron in the place. Other than the ghosts I’d brought with me.
The middle-aged, dark-haired woman peered at me from over the top of her tiny reading glasses. “May I help you?”
“Where are the periodicals?” I asked.
She focused on her computer screen again and pointed. “Down the hall and to the left.”
I stepped into the quiet room and headed over to an available microfiche machine. Okay, they were all available. I was the only one in the room. The silence was a bit spooky.
“Do you think you’ll find anything?” Peggy asked, peering over my shoulder.
“I hope so,” I said as I sat down.
I scanned through the papers for the year that Peggy had died. I stopped when I came to her obituary.
She leaned over my shoulder again. “Oh, that’s me.”
“Good catch,” Charlotte said.
There was a picture of her looking exactly as she did today.
“What does it say?” Peggy asked.
“It lists her cause of death as undetermined,” I said.
Peggy scrunched her brow. “That doesn’t make sense. Why don’t they know what happened to me?”
“Technically, there are ghosts who stay around because they were in an accident. They don’t realize they’re dead.” Charlotte offered her expertise.
“That’s not the case with me. I know I’m dead.” Peggy paced across the floor.
“Maybe you have unfinished business.” I glanced over my shoulder at her.
She tossed her hands up. “Wouldn’t I know what that was?”
“Maybe you forgot,” I said.
She released a deep breath and said, “Well, I hope I remember soon.”
“What I’d like to know is what caused your death. What kind of injury. This doesn’t say.” I continued scrolling through the film.
“It looks as if you might have to ask Dylan for help,” Charlotte said.
“I won’t give up just yet,” I said.
“I think that dress is somehow related to my death,” Peggy said.
“A dress?” I asked. “What dress?”
“The one I can’t stop thinking about,” Peggy said around a sigh.
“The dress you’re wearing?” Charlotte looked Peggy up and down.
“No, it’s a special occasion dress.” Peggy smirked, as if Charlotte should have known this little detail.
Charlotte’s eyes widened. She wasn’t accustomed to sass in return.
“Where is the dress? Was it in the trunk at the theater?” I asked.
“Yes, I think it’s still there.” Peggy twisted the bubble gum around her finger.
“Maybe we should go have another look at this dress,” I said.
Charlotte lifted an eyebrow.
I knew that sounded crazy, but it was worth a shot. Besides, I needed to go to the theater and work on the costumes anyway. As much as I hated going in that building, I had to finish the job. The longer I stayed away from the theater the more it made Heather’s guilt look more likely. I had to let people know that by me being at the theater I knew Heather was innocent. Never mind that I got goose bumps every time I thought about the place.
I pushed to my feet and headed out the door with the ghosts right behind me. The librarian eyed me as I walked by, but she didn’t speak. I’d love to see her face if she’d seen the ghosts trailing along behind me. As I headed out of the building and hurried into the car, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me.
Chapter 15
Charlotte’s Tips for a Fabulous Afterlife
Wear gorgeous shoes because your feet never hurt.
What’s that saying?
The higher the heel the closer to heaven.
A short time later we arrived at the theater. Once again I parked in that back lot. It was just as spooky tonight as always. Dark clouds rolled in and settled over the once blue sky. The only sound was the chirp of insects and a hooting owl in the distance. Soon the thunder would boom and lightning would streak across the sky. Just what I needed, inside a spooky building with a thunderstorm outside.
“Are you going in?” Charlotte asked.
I scanned the surroundings. “Yes, of course, as soon as I get up enough nerve.”
Inhaling a deep breath and blowing it out, I opened the car door. Once the door was open I had a short amount of time to get to the building’s back door. It was like a race against time. Kind of like at night when you have to go to the bathroom but you don’t want the monsters from under your bed to get you. Okay, I sounded like a four-year-old. Get yourself together, Cookie, I thought. I was a grown woman. I could handle this. Nevertheless, I hurried across the parking lot, not bothering to glance over my shoulder. If I didn’t look that meant nothing back there could get me. I knew it didn’t work that way, but wishful thinking, I suppose.
If the back door was locked I’d be in big trouble. I had no idea where Charlotte and Peggy were. I assumed they’d already passed through the closed door and were waiting for me. At least I hoped that was the case. What if they’d gone back to the car and left me all alone? Charlotte needed to open the door for me if it was locked, but like I said, she wasn’t always the best at channeling energy to move things. Though she would claim she was the best. I yanked on the door and thank goodness it was unlocked.
I hurried inside the building. The kitchen was quiet and I assumed everyone was onstage practicing. I rushed through the room and over to the steps that led to the basement. Of course it was dark down there. I flipped the switch on the wall. The dim light came on, but it was little help. Why couldn’t they add brighter lights down there? It was almost as if they wanted everyone to be afraid. Once at the end of the hall I reached the costume room. The room was a pitch-black void. Anyone could be hiding in there and I wouldn’t see them. I eased into the room just a bit so that I could reach the light switch on the wall beside the door.
After fumbling for several seconds and starting to panic, I flipped the switch. The fluorescent light added an eerie glow across the room. It felt as if someone might be hiding behind any number of objects in the room. The mannequins always made me think I spotted someone out of the corner of my eye. I was definitely more afraid of the living than the ghosts.
“Where is the dress?” I asked Peggy.
“Over in the trunk.” She pointed.
I rushed over to the trunk and popped open the lid. The beautiful clothing was just as I left it. Now to find the dress.
“There it is . . . the red one right there,” Peggy said.
I pulled out the dress. “It is beautiful. I can see why it would be your favorite. I bet it looks gorgeous on you.”
The halter-style dress had layers of red tulle around the skirt. It was cocktail length and had a silk sash around the waist.
Peggy stared at the dress as I held it up. “I just can’t figure out what it is about it.”
“Maybe it’s just your favorite dress,” I said.
She shook her head. “I think there’s more to it than that.”
“Oh, I know. Maybe someone gave it to you,” I said.
Peggy nodded. “That’s true, but sadly, I don’t remember.”
“Maybe it will come back to you.” I placed the dress back on top of the trunk. “I hate to leave the dress in this trunk.”
Charlotte eyed me disapprovingly. I knew what she was thinking. She thought I wanted the dress for myself. That wasn’t the case. Sure, it was beautiful, but I didn’t have to take all vintage pieces I found. If that was the case I would already have taken all the items in this trunk.
“I suppose I could take it back to the shop. Maybe if you see it more often it will trigger a memory,” I said.
“Good idea,” Peggy said.
Charlotte shook her head. “How sweet of you.”
Voices carried down the hall to the costume room. I froze on the spot.
“Is someone coming?” Charlotte asked.
“It sounds like someone is coming down here,” Peggy said.
Peggy and Charlotte went to the door and peered out.
“I don’t see anyone,” Charlotte said.
Another ghost? I hoped not, although that would be much better than a potential killer. The ghost of Morris would certainly help right about now. I gathered the dress and hurried over to the door. No one was in the hall, but the voices carried from somewhere nearby. People were arguing, but I couldn’t make out what was said. I was almost afraid to find out. What if the killer had come back to the theater?
I eased out of the room and down the hall. I’d turned off the light in the costume room so it wasn’t as lit as before. Still I moved up the stairs. The arguing had stopped, but the silence was just as scary. I almost reached the top of the stairs and paused. Anxiety pulsed through my body. I tried to steady my breathing so I wouldn’t hyperventilate.
“We’ll go look for you,” Charlotte said, motioning to Peggy.
I was hoping they’d say that. Sometimes it was nice having ghosts around.
“It’s James Chrisman,” Charlotte whispered as if he’d hear her. “He’s just standing out there, but he looks mad. His fists are clenched like he wants to punch someone.”
