A Passion for Haunted Fashion

by Rose Pressey

  I pulled up to the shop and cut the engine. “I recognized the hat that woman was wearing.”

  “You’re really good with fashion,” Peggy said, popping her gum.

  “It’s a natural talent,” I said, taking the keys from the ignition.

  “So what are you thinking? You couldn’t possibly know who owns the hat,” Charlotte said.

  I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel. “No, but at least now I know why she seemed familiar.”

  “That helps,” Peggy said.

  I wouldn’t be able to get this out of my head. After getting out of the car I headed into the shop to pick up Wind Song. As soon as I entered, Wind Song hopped down from the windowsill and ran over to the counter. She jumped up in one giant leap.

  “I think she wants to tell you something,” Charlotte said.

  “It looks that way,” I said.

  Grandma Pearl had never seemed this eager before. That was if it was her talking and not actually the cat. Wind Song liked to think menu requests were urgent, and that was the only time she came through with a message.

  “Do you want to use the Ouija board or tarot cards?” I asked.

  “How will she answer if she doesn’t have one of those?” Charlotte asked.

  I pulled the board and cards from under the counter. “We’ll just let her tell us.”

  “I can’t wait to see what she has to say,” Peggy said.

  The cat moved in front of the board and sat down, stretching her paws forward.

  “The Ouija board it is,” I said.

  “This is exciting.” Peggy moved closer.

  Wind Song placed her paw on the planchette. Soon enough I’d know whether it was the cat or my grandmother speaking. I hoped it was Grandma Pearl. With a delicate paw she moved the planchette around the board.

  The first word came quickly and it left me speechless—hat. How did she know that someone wearing a hat followed me? That had to be what she’d meant, right? Grandma Pearl hadn’t been with us. Was she really that psychic?

  “I’m eager for the next word.” Charlotte motioned for Grandma Pearl to continue.

  There was no need in pushing her though. She was way more stubborn than Charlotte. The next word started with an S. She continued with a U, and more letters followed.

  “This is a long word,” Peggy said.

  Midway through I realized what she was spelling.

  “Surveillance,” I said.

  “Check the video,” Charlotte said.

  Grandma Pearl stopped using the board and I reached for my laptop. I’d recently installed new cameras that would allow me to watch what was going on inside and outside the shop.

  “Oh, can’t you hurry?” Charlotte motioned.

  “It takes a bit to get to the screen.” My hands were shaking from the anticipation.

  After what seemed like an eternity but in reality was about a minute, I reached the time that Grandma Pearl would have been here alone.

  “Look. Here comes someone.” Charlotte pointed at the screen.

  “She’s wearing a hat.” Peggy held her hand up to her mouth after speaking the sentence.

  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing either. The woman stepped up to the window and peered into the store. She moved over to the door and tried to open it. She was wearing the exact hat and sunglasses. Since the door was locked she went back to the window, peering in as if searching for someone.

  “Maybe it’s just a coincidence,” Peggy said.

  “I don’t believe in coincidences,” Charlotte said. “She’s here for a reason, and she followed Cookie. I don’t think she wants to find a piece of vintage clothing either.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, Charlotte was right. This woman gave me a bad feeling. Now I just needed to see her face so I’d know who I was dealing with. That was assuming that I would recognize her without sunglasses. If in fact it was Patricia or Marie, I’d recognize them right away.

  “The woman is really tall,” Peggy said. “How tall is Patricia?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “Charlotte is five-seven. I’d say they’re the same height.”

  “This person is taller than me.” Charlotte pointed at the screen.

  “So it can’t be Patricia?” I asked. “Marie was even shorter, right?”

  “Maybe one of them is wearing high heels,” Peggy said.

  Charlotte gasped and I clutched my chest. “What in the world is wrong with you?” Charlotte gestured and I followed her pointing finger. The woman with the hat was walking by the window. Why now? When she’d tried to get into the shop earlier, I was closed. Now that I was open she walked on by. This was too strange. Once at the other side of the shop, she stopped and looked my way.

  “What do you think she’ll do now?” Peggy asked.

  She’d better not come in here and cause trouble.” Charlotte pumped her fist.

  The woman stepped away from the window and out of sight.

  “You have to follow her.” Charlotte gestured toward the door.

  “I suppose you’re right,” I said.

  Anxiety settled in my stomach like a heavy weight.

  “Go, go, go,” Charlotte ordered.

  “Why don’t you follow her?” I asked.

  The little wrinkle that Charlotte hated formed between her brows. “I suppose I have to do everything around here.”

  She’d never let me forget this, but if this woman killed me on the sidewalk I’d never let Charlotte forget that. I rushed for the door and out onto the sidewalk. The ghosts were right beside me. My ghostly friends and I took off following the woman.

  “It looks like this person is going back to the parking lot.” Charlotte slowed down to keep up my pace.

  “That was where Patricia parked before. I bet it’s her,” I said, trying to walk faster.

  “Don’t let her see you following her,” Charlotte said.

  “That’s why you should have followed her instead of me.”

  “Do I have to do everything around here?” Charlotte tossed her hands up.

  “You two need to quit arguing,” Peggy said. “You’re giving me a headache.”

  I was pretty sure Peggy had heard Charlotte say that. Peggy was picking up Charlotte’s bad habits. We reached the end of the building. Around the corner was the parking area. I paused and slowly eased forward so that I could see down there. Charlotte and Peggy stood at the end of the building, not hiding behind the wall. They didn’t need to conceal themselves behind a brick wall. The person had stopped by the car. It was the same car that had followed me. Now I knew for sure it was the same woman. Not that I’d had any doubt.

  “I wish I could read the license plate. Why don’t you go down there and read it?” I looked at Charlotte.

  “Don’t say that I don’t help you,” she warned.

  Charlotte had only taken a few steps when I said, “Wait.”

  Charlotte stopped in her tracks.

  The person took off the sunglasses.

  “Now she’s removing the hat,” Peggy said. “It’s like a striptease out here.”

  “It’s not a she,” Charlotte said.

  “It’s a man,” Peggy said in a loud voice.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. The person I’d thought was a she was in fact a he.

  “I know who that is. Remember? That’s Mike Harvey. He worked with Morris,” I said. “He was looking in Dylan’s car. Why was he following me?”

  “Now we need to know why he’s dressed like a woman and following you,” Charlotte said.

  His long hair looked like Patricia’s. With the sunglasses, woman’s clothing, and hat, I’d assumed the person was female. There had to be a reason why he was dressed like this. Did he do this all the time or was this so that no one would recognize him?

  “This gets stranger by the minute,” Peggy said.

  “Welcome to Cookie’s world,” Charlotte said.

  “What do I do now?” I asked.

  “You should go over the
re and ask why he’s following you,” Charlotte said.

  Yes, that would be Charlotte’s advice. That was why I didn’t always follow her guidance. She could get me into a real pickle that I wouldn’t be able to escape.

  “Since he could be the killer, I’m not sure it’s a wise idea to confront him in a secluded alleyway,” I said.

  Charlotte frowned. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Mike climbed into his car and turned on the engine. I wished I could have confronted him.

  Chapter 22

  Cookie’s Savvy Tips for Vintage Clothing Shopping

  Depending on the piece of clothing you purchased,

  you might want to have a professional remove any

  stains you find. You don’t want to chance causing

  irreversible damage to the great vintage find.

  The following day while waiting for further information about Mike Harvey, I’d decided to track down some of Peggy’s boyfriend’s relatives. At least attempt to track them down. Someone related to him had to still be in town. If he’d been twenty at the time that meant he could still be living in town too.

  “Peggy, do you remember your boyfriend’s name yet?” I hoped she remembered.

  I knew her memory was still spotty, but I crossed my fingers that she would remember today. A lot had been coming back to her in the last twenty-four hours. It was like someone had opened the floodgate to her memories.

  “His name was Steve Walker.” She spoke the name as if she had been waiting forever for me to ask. Her eyes widened. “I can’t believe I remembered. It just slipped right out like I’d always known.”

  Charlotte beamed. “I told you everything would eventually come back.”

  “I’ve been dead for years. Why did it take so long?”

  “Probably because you had no one to talk to,” Charlotte said.

  “So Cookie is the reason?” She stepped closer to me. “I wish I could hug you. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. Thank whatever or whoever gave me this ability to see ghosts. I still don’t know why it happened,” I said.

  “Well, until you find out I will just have to thank you,” Peggy said.

  At least I had a name now. I’d hoped for a less common name so the search would be easier. What if I found multiple Steve Walkers in Sugar Creek?

  “What are you up to?” Charlotte asked while peeking over my shoulder.

  I’d turned on my computer. “I’m going to search this ancestry site and see if anyone lists his name.”

  “Why not just search his name?” Charlotte asked.

  “I suppose that would be the best way to start.” I typed the name into the search engine with Sugar Creek as well.

  “What did you find?” Peggy asked with excitement in her voice.

  “I’m surprised, but I actually found an address for a Steve Walker. Don’t get too excited though. This might not be the right Steve Walker.”

  “See, I told you to look for his name first,” Charlotte said.

  “Yes, but is this information accurate? I guess we’ll have to go there and find out.” I shut off the computer.

  “You mean I might actually see him again? I’m nervous.” Peggy’s voice wavered.

  “Nothing to be nervous about,” Charlotte said.

  “Just remember he will look different than he did in the fifties. It’s been sixty years. He’s not a young adult anymore,” I said.

  Peggy pushed her shoulders back and stood a little straighter. “I understand.”

  I knew she’d agreed, but it would still be a bit of a shock for her.

  After Brianna showed up for work we piled into my car and headed over to the address listed for Steve Walker. The small ranch-style brick house was located on a quiet cul-de-sac. Tall trees lined the streets and colorful flowers popped along the backdrop of the homes. I pulled up in front along the curb and cut the engine. Peggy remained silent as she peered out the window.

  “I wonder if he lives here alone?” Charlotte asked.

  What if he’d lived his life mourning for Peggy and remained alone in that small house? She was acting surprisingly calm. I figured I was more nervous than she was based on how relaxed she seemed. Back at the shop she’d been fidgeting. Now she stayed perfectly still as she peered out the car window. Almost as if she were in a trance. Maybe she was in shock.

  I opened the car door. “I suppose I should get to it.”

  Charlotte got out of the car, but Peggy remained in the backseat.

  “Uh-oh,” Charlotte said.

  “We shouldn’t make her go if she doesn’t want to,” I whispered.

  Leaving Peggy in the car, Charlotte and I walked up the path to the front door. I glanced back to see that Peggy was standing right behind me. I smiled. It would be hard for her, but she’d found the courage to see him. After ringing the doorbell someone opened the door. A petite woman in her early thirties with dark hair answered.

  “My name is Cookie and this is . . .” Oops. I’d almost introduced Charlotte.

  “Watch what you’re doing, Cookie,” Charlotte said.

  “Uh, I’m looking for Steve Walker.”

  “That was my uncle. He passed away about six months ago.” She searched my face, clearly intrigued as to why I was asking.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  When I checked over my shoulder I realized Peggy was back at the car. I guess she didn’t want to listen after hearing the sad news. That was completely understandable. Charlotte was still beside me.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” the woman asked.

  “You’d better hurry up, Cookie; I think this woman is losing her patience. She’ll probably close the door soon,” Charlotte said.

  She seemed fine to me. Curious, but fine. Regardless, I’d do as Charlotte suggested.

  “Do you know if your uncle had any connection with the Sugar Creek Theater?”

  She frowned. “Yes, he worked there for a number of years.”

  “Well, that would explain why Peggy might be there,” Charlotte said.

  That was an interesting turn of events. I had to press for more answers.

  “Do you know a woman named Peggy Page? He might have been friends with her back in the fifties?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “He never mentioned anyone by that name. Is there some reason you are looking for him?”

  I hadn’t planned for that question. I should have, though, because it would be natural for her to ask. Now my anxiety had increased. The more nervous I became the more suspicious I would sound.

  “You’d better say something fast. And make it good,” Charlotte said.

  Charlotte always told me what to do, but rarely offered suggestions on what to say.

  “I’m working on costumes for the theater and found a piece of paper with your uncle’s name on it in the basement. Peggy’s name was on it as well. I was just curious about the history of the theater.”

  Charlotte held her hand up to her forehead as if she might faint. “Cookie, you should stop talking now because nothing you’re saying is making any sense. That sounds like a made-up story.”

  Charlotte was being overly dramatic. I thought the story sounded completely plausible and that the woman would totally believe me.

  The woman’s brow pinched together. “What was the paper?”

  Okay, maybe I had been wrong. She did look suspicious after all. That thing about my nerves making me sound suspect was right. What would I say now? I had to think of something. My mind was blank.

  “Oh, it was just his name,” I said nervously.

  I’d tried to hide my apprehension, but it wasn’t working. Perhaps it was time for me to get out of there.

  She eyed me up and down.

  “Don’t just stand there with your eyes bugged out. Tell her you have to leave now,” Charlotte said.

  “Well, anyway, thanks for the help.” I turned and hurried away from the house.

  “You’re not good under
pressure, are you?” Charlotte asked as we hurried to the car.

  “Is she still watching me?” I asked.

  Charlotte looked over her shoulder. “Yes.”

  Peggy was already in the backseat. She’d been leaning against the car until she’d seen Charlotte and me rushing toward her. I suppose she figured out we were trying to make a quick getaway. Releasing a breath of relief, I slipped behind the wheel and cranked the engine. The woman watched as I pulled away from the curb.

  Charlotte brushed the hair out of her eyes. “The things you get me into.”

  I wouldn’t even respond to that. It was the other way around. Charlotte was the one getting me into trouble.

  “Whew. I’m glad to be out of there.” I peeked in the rearview mirror.

  Peggy had a stunned look on her face. “Now I remember.”

  “Remember what?” I asked.

  “I was at the theater with Steve,” Peggy said.

  Charlotte looked back at Peggy. “What happened?”

  Peggy frowned. “That part I can’t remember. It’s something, though, right? I mean, at least I remember that I was actually there.”

  I stopped at the red light. We had almost arrived back at my shop. “Yes, that is something. Maybe more will come back to you.”

  “We could try to do something to spark your memory,” Charlotte said.

  “Like what?” Peggy asked.

  “Going back to the theater would be a start,” I said.

  “I don’t know. She was there for years and nothing came back to her,” Charlotte said.

  “Good point,” I said. “Nevertheless, now that this memory has returned, it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.”

  “I’m willing to give it a try,” Peggy said.

  “I suppose I do need to go back and finish up a few things with the costumes anyway.”

  I’d been putting it off because every time I thought of the theater my anxiety increased.

  As I pulled up to the shop, I spotted Heather coming out of her place. She locked the door and headed down the street without even looking in my direction.

  “I suppose she didn’t see me,” I said as I cut the ignition.

  “Yes, I guess that’s it,” Charlotte said with doubt in her voice.

  I got out of the car and rushed down the sidewalk to catch up to her. “Heather, you’re leaving early. Is everything okay?”