Moody knew love, however. She loved Fern dearly, as the witch had been swift to take her in and nurse her to full health. If Fern had not taken her out of that box, she wouldn’t be in that very battlefield in that very moment. It wasn’t the life she expected or even wanted as a cat, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. She loved Mazie as well, as much as she liked to tease the chubbier of the sisters. Moody liked to think they shared a certain camaraderie, even if they were usually bickering over something. No, there was no question that Moody was familiar with love.
The kind she saw in the eyes of the colonel was a sort she could not claim to be familiar with. There were ectoplasmic tears ghosting his eyes, and she realized, just by looking at the spirit, that he would give his afterlife in a heartbeat if it meant his loved one could continue on in the mortal realm. Love could be sacrifice, the cat supposed. But that wasn’t always necessary. She could see from the gestures the nurse made—the gentle stroking of his arm, the way she nestled her face into his shoulder and sobbed—it wasn’t a one sided relationship by any means. As much as she had seen these ghosts interacting in a rather intimate manner, she had perhaps never considered the fact that they could actually be in love. But here was the proof. Stranger yet, was the boy, who sat in front of the Colonel with his head buried in his own knees. The older ghost stroked Little Timmy’s hair gingerly, and in spite of being sure the Colonel hadn’t a single fatherly bone in his body, Moody was also sure that there was a sort of love there as well. As friends? Brothers? It seemed irrelevant. All that mattered was that the spirits seemed to be too wrapped up in comforting each other to notice the feline watching them from the sidelines.
It would be tragic, honestly. Moody was especially familiar with tragedy, with loss, with pain. That had been years ago, but the memories were fresh in her mind. She could see her mother walking away for the final time, could see the uncaring faces of her former cohabitants when they tossed her on the side of the road. She could see. She could feel. Which was what made the whole situation so darn difficult. The spirits seemed to be aware that they were on borrowed time, at least, until the situation was resolved. They seemed sad, yet all too prepared to say their goodbyes. Did they perhaps know the trouble they had inadvertently wrought on a young girl’s life? Moody was certain that their intent had never been to hurt anyone—simply save the field that they called home. Now, it seemed, they were ready to sacrifice what they’d been fighting so hard for. For love, for home, for togetherness.
Moody wasn’t one to hesitate. She knew she should have fetched the phone as soon as the opportunity presented itself, and taken it back to her friends. They would have known what to do from there. Yet, there was a lingering doubt. Would they truly banish these spirits? These loving souls?
She was so caught up in her own rumination that she startled when something dropped to the ground in front of her. She looked up, startled to see the Colonel staring down at her with a faint smile.
“You know, for a cat, you’re not the quietest in the world. You’ve been sniffling the whole time,” he said with a bit of a chuckle. Moody stared up at him for a long moment, wondering what they would do to her. What had been dropped at her feet? Was it some sort of trap? With bated breath, the cat looked down to see a phone with a slightly cracked screen. Her eyes nearly bulged from her head, and the Colonel laughed before reaching down to pat her on the head. A chill went down her spine, but it wasn’t altogether unpleasant. It was actually rather nice.
“You... don’t have to give this to me. I can tell them that I couldn’t find it. If you could be banished—” Moody began, but the Colonel was quick to cut her off.
“If Becky’s freedom requires that I leave this world, it is a task I will take on most willingly. Now go on. Take the thing to your friends. I’ve accepted what is to come. You should as well,” he said gently, smiling before drifting back to the other spirits.
As Moody darted back to the museum with the phone carefully held in her mouth, she mused that sometimes, doing the right thing was the hardest of all.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
When Moody arrived back in the museum, Fern and I immediately noticed the phone held in her mouth. If there is such a thing as faster than immediate, though, we saw the sad droop of her ears and the small tears pricking the sides of her eyes. Fern rushed forward—she’s always been much quicker on her feet than I have. She gathered Moody in her arms, holding the cat close to her chest.
“What happened? Did they hurt you? Did they threaten you?” Fern fired off one after another, and Moody shook her head in response to each question before dropping the phone in Fern’s hand.
“Let’s just check the phone for right now. See what’s on there,” the feline suggested, and I was swift to snatch the phone from Fern’s hand and swipe the screen. Somehow, some way, there was the teeniest bit of battery life lingering within. God, how pricey of a phone did you have to get? Just the same, it worked in our favor, and I was trying terribly hard not to resent the dead. I wasn’t quite sure where to look at first, but videos seemed the most obvious choice. If there was something on this phone that we weren’t meant to see, then it must have revealed some details of Dickney’s passing. As expected, there was a video from the night Dickney died, showing a blank screen. I gestured for Fern to step closer before pressing play. It started innocently enough, with Dickney ranting and raving to his phone about his investors pulling out. How he’d ended up in the battlefield wasn’t quite clear, but he was drunk, so perhaps that explained it away. He staggered as he walked, slurring his words as he went on and on about some sort of blog. Oh. Well, that explained the video journal, but i couldn’t imagine this guy had many followers.
However, around halfway through the rambling video, Dickney came to a complete stop. His expression shifted to one of fear, and he seemed to take a staggering step back. He shook his head frantically, as if to clear his mind. Perhaps he blamed his own drunkenness. Either way, in a few moments, he began to speak again. It seemed nonsensical at first, especially considering the fact that the camera was dark in the direction he pointed it.
“I know you’re there! I’m getting you on camera, so don’t you dare come any closer,” he announced, obviously trying to carry an air of authority in his voice. It fell short when a girlish scream erupted from his throat and he began to run. The phone screen bounced, and the camera was turned back to Dickney’s panicked face. “I don’t care what you say or do! I won’t give up my plan! I’m not scared of some little drummer boy and his grandparents,” Dickney snarled, and I glanced to Fern with a raised brow. She frowned, but continued to watch the video. He continued running for several moments, his expression turning almost victorious for a moment. “Stop!? Why should I stop!? You’re just upset that you can’t catch m—,” he stopped mid sentence, his expression twisting into one of pain and shock. He looked down, just as blood began to spill down his chin. “Oh... oh God,” he muttered. The phone was dropped to the ground, face up towards the sky. All that could be heard was a brief moment of Dickney panicking and then a soft gurgle that indicated he had succumbed to his injuries.
I stared at the phone for a long moment, glancing towards Fern. Her expression was torn, and I had no idea what was racing through her brain in that moment. After a beat, she nodded quietly to herself and slipped the phone in her pocket. She allowed Moody to jump on the ground, and I couldn’t help staring at her, a bit concerned by her silence.
“Seems to be a pretty cut and dry case. He was obviously drunk—apparently to the point of hallucinating. I’m sure Sheriff Bailey will come to the same conclusion, given the video evidence. I’ll take it down to the station, and hopefully wrap things up. Obviously, Becky, nor Fang had anything to do with Dickneys passing. Hell, even his jerk of a business partner is innocent..,” she trailed off, staring at the ground for a moment. I reached out to rest a comforting arm on her shoulder, and she looked up at me with a faint smile.
“Fern... what do we do about�
��,” I began, but she was quick to interrupt.
“Dickney was drunk. It was obviously an accident. I’ll leave you and Moody to start getting the museum ready for customers. I should probably get a move on,” she hummed, pulling me in for a brief hug before striding out of the museum. I watched her go, realizing that she had been making sure our story was straight in case anyone asked questions. Well, that seemed easy enough. It wasn’t like anyone would believe a trio of ghosts would scare him into impaling himself. Speaking of...
I walked out the back exit, not surprised to see the three spirits I had come to know and love lingering near the statue. I smiled sympathetically, vaguely aware of Moody walking alongside me. As I approached the spirits, Colonel Augustus immediately stepped forward, as if protecting the others from me. I tilted my head curiously, not quite sure what he was doing.
“A proposition, if I may. The whole fright was my idea. These two just played along to please me. If anyone should be banished from the mortal realm, it is I and I alone,” the Colonel said valiantly, dropping to one knee in front of me. I stared at him for a long moment, not sure how to reply. He had actually expected to be banished. I parted my lips to reassure him, but before I could get the words out, Mary Jane stepped up beside him and dropped to one knee as well.
“Where Augustus goes, I follow. You may not understand, but when you’ve loved someone for hundreds of years, you can’t even picture your afterlife without them,” she said meekly. The Colonel teared up, looking as if he would argue. Instead, he drew her into his arms and gave her a solid kiss. Sighing in exasperation, I tried to speak once more, only for the third of the trio to take what he probably assumed was his rightful space.
“I... don’t have much to say, really. I’m sorry that guy died, and I’m really sorry Miss Becky was going to take the fall for it. If these two are gone, there’s no reason for me to stick around. It’d be pretty lonely, ya know?” The teenage ghost said with a sad smile, and I was stricken by just how young Little Timmy was. Probably barely a day over sixteen when he’d been killed. I couldn’t imagine the grief he must have felt, especially at the idea of losing the only people he could call family. He dropped to one knee as well, and the three all joined hands, looking up at me with the most comforting expressions they could manage.
I crossed my arms over my chest, looking at each of them in turn. To these three, being banished from the mortal world would be worse than ceasing to exist at all. At separate times, they’ve all told me that this is their home, where they want to stay. They were humans once and the human world was their home. Which was why it was so difficult for me to believe the three were willing to make this sacrifice. I teared up a bit, and all of them looked immediately concerned, offering me words of comfort that all blurred together.
“Stop. Stop. All three of you, that’s enough now. Fern is taking the phone to the police station right now, and she assures me that it will be ruled an accidental death. He was really drunk, you know. Probably seeing things, hearing things...” I trailed off for a moment, smiling a bit at their collective expressions of confusion. “It was an accident. This is your world as much as it is mine,” I said gently.
“You’re... not banishing us? Not any of us?” Little Timmy prompted, hope in his eyes.
“Nope. Now get off the ground, all three of you. We’re going to throw a welcome back party for Becky and I’m going to need help hanging the streamers up high. Do you think you’re up for the job?” I smiled. The three exchanged a look.
“Yes, ma'am!”
Thanks for Reading
I hope you enjoyed the book and it would mean so much to me if you could leave a review. Reviews help authors gain more exposure and keep us writing your favorite stories.
You can find all of my books by visiting my Author Page.
SIGN UP FOR CONSTANCE Barker’s New Releases Newsletter where you can find out when my next book is coming out and for special discounted pricing.
I NEVER SHARE OR SELL your email.
Visit me on Facebook and give me feedback on the characters and their stories.
Catalog of Books
The Grumpy Chicken Irish Pub Series
A Frosty Mug of Murder
Treachery on Tap
A Highball and a Low Blow
Cursed With a Twist
THE CHRONICLES OF AGNES Astor Smith
The Peculiar Case of Agnes Astor Smith
The Peculiar Case of the Red Tide
The Peculiar Case of the Lost Colony
OLD SCHOOL DINER COZY Mysteries
Murder at Stake
Murder Well Done
A Side Order of Deception
Murder, Basted and Barbecued
THE CURIOSITY SHOP Cozy Mysteries
The Curious Case of the Cursed Spectacles
The Curious Case of the Cursed Dice
The Curious Case of the Cursed Dagger
The Curious Case of the Cursed Looking Glass
The Curious Case of the Cursed Crucible
The We’re Not Dead Yet Club
Fetch a Pail of Murder
Wedding Bells and Death Knells
Murder or Bust
Pinched, Pilfered and a Pitchfork
A Hot Spot of Murder
WITCHY WOMEN OF COVEN Grove Series
THE WITCHING ON THE Wall
A Witching Well of Magic
Witching the Night Away
Witching There’s Another Way
Witching Your Life Away
Witching You Wouldn’t Go
Witching for a Miracle
TEASEN & PLEASEN HAIR Salon Series
A Hair Raising Blowout
Wash, Rinse, Die
Holiday Hooligans
Color Me Dead
False Nails & Tall Tales
CAESAR’S CREEK SERIES
A FROZEN SCOOP OF MURDER (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book One)
Death by Chocolate Sundae (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Two)
Soft Serve Secrets (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Three)
Ice Cream You Scream (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Four)
Double Dip Dilemma (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Five)
Melted Memories (Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Six)
Triple Dip Debacle(Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Seven)
Whipped Wedding Woes(Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Eight)
A Sprinkle of Tropical Trouble(Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Nine)
A Drizzle of Deception(Caesars Creek Mystery Series Book Ten)
SWEET HOME MYSTERY Series
Creamed at the Coffee Cabana (Sweet Home Mystery Series Book One)
A Caffeinated Crunch (Sweet Home Mystery Series Book Two)
A Frothy Fiasco (Sweet Home Mystery Series Book Three)
Punked by the Pumpkin(Sweet Home Mystery Series Book Four)
Peppermint Pandemonium(Sweet Home Mystery Series Book Five)
Expresso Messo(Sweet Home Mystery Series Book Six)
A Cuppa Cruise Conundrum(Sweet Home Mystery Series Book Seven)
The Brewing Bride(Sweet Home Mystery Series Book Eight)
WHISPERING PINES MYSTERY Series
A Sinister Slice of Murder
Sanctum of Shadows (Whispering Pines Mystery Series)
Curse of the Bloodstone Arrow (Whispering Pines Mystery Series)
Fright Night at the Haunted Inn (Whispering Pines Mystery Series)
MAD RIVER MYSTERY SERIES
A Wicked Whack
A Prickly Predicament
A Malevolent Menace
-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share
Hoodoo and Just Desserts (The Witch Sisters of Stillwater Cozy Series Book 1) Page 12
