Joanna stopped crying and looked up at Emma. “I went upstairs and got the gun Lin kept in his dressing room. Lin was coming up the main staircase as I was coming down. Before he could say a word, I drew the gun and shot him—twice. Bonita heard the shots. She came running and screamed when she saw Lin’s body. I walked downstairs. When I got to the kitchen, I called 911.”
“I was there, Emma. She’s telling the truth.” The spirit of Max Naiman materialized next to the railing. In the sunlight, with the ocean behind him, it was difficult for Emma to make him out at first, but soon his image came into view. “Lin was making arrangements to have Lainey killed.” He shook his head. “Too bad ghosts can’t testify.”
Joanna looked at Emma with a mix of relief and fear. “Max is here with us, isn’t he? I can feel him.”
“Yes,” Emma confirmed. “He’s here, and he says he was there when you shot Lin.”
“I thought he might have been. I felt that heavy weight I always get when he’s around.”
Joanna twisted her head from side to side, struggling to make out her dead husband.
“He’s over there by the railing,” Emma told her.
Joanna fixed her eyes on where Emma indicated, her face contorted with emotional pain. “I am so sorry, Max.” She started to cry. “I should have protected Lainey better. I failed both of you.”
Max moved to stand in front of Joanna. “I forgive you, Joanna. For us it’s too late, but it’s not too late for you to make it up to Lainey.” He turned to Emma. “Make sure you tell her what I said.”
Emma nodded to the ghost, then relayed his message. Joanna put her head in her hands and quietly sobbed.
As Max’s image began to fade, he leaned down, putting his mouth close to Emma’s ear. “It wasn’t entirely Addy’s influence that caused Joanna to shoot Lin.” He spoke in a conspiratorial voice, as if someone else might hear. “I could have stopped it, as I stopped Lainey, but I chose not to.”
Emma jerked her head to stare at the ghost as he made his confession, but she said nothing.
“Instead, Addy and I joined forces. Joanna didn’t have a chance against us, especially with the emotional state she was in that day.” Max stood up, his image almost gone. “And I have no regrets. Lin needed to pay for what he’d done, and he needed to be stopped from hurting Lainey ever again.”
“Max,” Joanna began, straining to see him. “I am so very sorry,” she repeated, choking out the words.
“I’m sorry, Joanna, he’s gone.” Emma reached out and patted the distraught woman’s hand. “And I don’t think he’ll be back.”
Seeing Joanna shivering, Emma suggested they go back inside. Getting Joanna on her feet, she steered her back into the house and onto the large white sofa. Joanna looked beaten and frail after telling her story, and Emma wondered how she was ever going to make it through a full trial.
“I was going to leave Lin, you know?” Joanna said once she was settled comfortably. “Long before all this started.”
Emma was surprised. “I didn’t know that.”
“That’s probably what you picked up on when you said I was different around him. I’d even visited a lawyer on the sly. That’s when I found out he was in a lot of trouble and owed a lot of money. He’d gone through his own fortune and most of my money. I’m sure it was his motivation for trying to get his hands on Lainey’s inheritance.”
“Is that why you tried to pay Keith to marry Lainey sooner than later?”
“Yes. If she were married, I thought Lin might quit dogging her, because her money would be lost to his manipulations. I wanted her taken care of before I filed for divorce.”
Emma looked around and saw a cashmere throw laid across the back of a chair. She retrieved it and arranged it across Joanna’s lap, pulling it up high on her chest. Joanna clutched at it like an invalid.
“I was a fool to give him authority over my accounts, but I thought he could expand them as he claimed he’d done with his own. After all, look at the house he owned—it screamed fabulous wealth, didn’t it? Turns out it belonged to a business associate of his who lives in the Middle East. I lived there for several years and never knew that. Turns out his money problems were starting about the time we started our affair.”
Her coral-stained lips were dry and cracked. “I was so enthralled by Linwood Reid when I first met him. It was at a party in Beverly Hills, some charity thing Max didn’t want to attend, so I went alone. Max may have been an action hero onscreen, but in real life he was a simple, laid-back guy who wanted nothing more than to spend time with his family, drive fast cars, and catch an occasional wave. Lin, on the other hand, was a powerful man with friends who made international headline news. Being with him was heady stuff. It blinded me to what he really was, and by the time I found out, it was too late to save myself, but it wasn’t too late to save Lainey.”
On the drive back to Pasadena, Emma thought about Joanna’s ill-fated attraction to Linwood Reid even though she already had a solid, dependable man in her life. Emma compared Phil to Quinn. She was pretty sure Quinn was not after her money and was nothing like Linwood Reid, but still he was an adventurer and his life was exciting, while Phil was a laid-back guy like Max.
After receiving the news about Lin’s murder, Quinn and Emma had run back to the inn, where they turned on the TV in Emma’s room looking for news reports about it. While Emma called her mother back, Quinn used his laptop to search for the next flight back to California for Emma. When he found it, he waved her over to the computer.
“Mother,” she said into her cell phone while checking out the flight Quinn indicated, “there’s a flight leaving here around eight o’clock tonight. It connects through Washington, DC, and gets me into LAX around twelve thirty in the morning. I’ll be on it if I have to stow away in the bathroom.”
“What about your research, Emma?” her mother asked. “You really need to get to the bottom of that ring or no one will be at peace. Dad and I can help Lainey.”
“I did that today, Mother. I don’t think Addy’s going to be bothering anyone else again.”
After hanging up with her mother, Emma called the airline and booked her return trip for that night. She had an open-return first-class ticket and had no problem getting on the short flight to DC. On the second leg of her journey, she snagged the last available seat.
Quinn wanted to go with her back to Los Angeles, but Emma had told him no, things were complicated enough. While he watched and Granny chaperoned, Emma threw her clothes and toiletries into her small suitcase. If she left soon, she’d make the flight in plenty of time.
“Wow,” she said to Quinn as they said their goodbyes. They were in the back parking lot of the inn, standing next to Emma’s rental car. “It feels like I’ve been here a week instead of just one day.”
He reached out to touch her hair. “You’ve been one busy ghost hunter. You should come back when you have time to relax. There are lots of great things to do around here. Or maybe I should come visit you in California.”
Without thinking, Emma blurted out, “You’d love Julian. I’m sure of it.”
“Is that an invitation?”
Emma looked away. Around them, slender trees swayed in the breeze like a chorus of dancers. “I don’t know what it is, Quinn.” She turned back to look at him. “And frankly—”
“And frankly, my dear,” Quinn said, cutting her off, “you don’t give a damn?”
“No, not that at all,” she insisted with a frown. “I was going to say, frankly, I don’t have time to think about my personal life right now.”
She started to get into the car but stopped and turned back to look again at Dr. Quinn Keenan. She started to say something else but wasn’t sure what it was. Perhaps it had all been said.
Surrendering one last, small smile, she climbed into the driver’s side of the rental car, buckled up, and turned over the engine. Granny was perched in the passenger’s seat. Emma started backing the car out of the tight parking spot
.
“You gonna make that flight?” Granny asked with concern.
“I have plenty of time as long as I don’t have any car trouble between here and the airport.”
“Good. I can’t wait to get you home where you belong.”
A sharp retort was on the tip of Emma’s tongue, but she swallowed it. She wasn’t in the mood to spar with Granny at the moment.
Once out of the parking spot, Emma turned the car toward the narrow exit. It spilled onto Broadway. A left onto Broadway, then a right at the corner, and she’d be on her way to the airport.
She took one last look in her rearview mirror. Quinn was standing a few feet behind her car, watching her leave. His left hand was stuffed into the pocket of his jeans. His right hand was against his heart.
Emma stopped the car and stared at him with heavy eyes.
“What’s the matter?” asked Granny. “Did the car break down already?”
Without answering, Emma unbuckled her seat belt and climbed back out of the car. She stood for a moment looking at Quinn but not moving. He didn’t move either. Taking a deep breath, Emma quickly covered the steps between them and threw her arms around his neck. Their kiss was deep and hard, finally interrupted by the honk of a horn.
Breaking apart, they saw another car coming through the tiny parking lot, heading for the exit. Emma’s car blocked its progress.
Emma raised a hand to the other driver. “Just a minute.”
She cupped Quinn’s face in her palm for a second, then spun on her heel and did a swan dive back into her car. A second later she was on Broadway, waiting for the light at the corner.
“Humph,” Granny huffed. “Was that a goodbye kiss or a see-ya-later kiss?”
“God help me, Granny,” replied Emma, wiping tears away with the back of her left hand, “I don’t know.”
the end
author’s note
As with all my Granny Apples novels, I enjoy weaving the past with the present and fiction with reality. The Pennsylvanian town of Jim Thorpe (formerly known as Mauch Chunk) is a real place, and many of the spots Emma visits or talks about—such as the Old Jail Museum, the Dimmick Library, and the Inn at Jim Thorpe—are also real.
The Molly Maguires and their trials and executions are also a part of the history of the town of Jim Thorpe. The hanged men I mention in the book—Alexander Campbell, Edward Kelly, John “Yellow Jack” Donohue, and Thomas Fisher—were real, though I took quite a bit of liberty with Edward Kelly, the youngest of the bunch.
Feel free to visit the charming town of Jim Thorpe and the Old Jail Museum. Betty Lou McBride, the actual owner of the museum, will be happy to show you the gallows, the dungeon, and the handprint on the wall of cell number 17.
Visit www.jimthorpe.org or www.theoldjailmuseum.com for more information about Jim Thorpe, PA, and the Molly Maguires.
Table of Contents
Cover
About the Author
Title Page
Dedication
Copyright Information
Acknowledgments
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Author’s Note
Gem of a Ghost: A Ghost of Granny Apples Mystery Page 25
