by Rose Pressey
I wondered if Heather had opened yet. She usually got there later than I did though. I hurried down the sidewalk in the direction of the men. Alice and Charlotte walked beside me.
“Don’t forget to ask him about the argument,” Alice said.
“I can’t do that,” I said out of the corner of my mouth.
The man with Preston glared at me as I approached. He stepped in front of Preston. His actions took me off guard.
“Hello,” I said. “I worked on the set of the movie with the costumes.”
The man looked me up and down. His stare made me feel like running in the opposite direction.
“I just wanted to welcome you to Sugar Creek. My name is Cookie Chanel.” I held out my hand.
“Are you serious? That’s really your name?” Preston asked, stepping around the muscular man.
“I don’t think I like this man,” Charlotte said.
“Me either,” Alice sized him up taking in every last detail of his appearance.
“Yes, that’s my name. Well, it’s Cassandra, but everyone calls me Cookie.”
He raised a perfect eyebrow. “Sure.”
“Anyway, I’m very sorry about Nicole. My condolences.”
His expression changed. “We were engaged.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“It will be hard to finish the movie without her.”
“I can imagine. Will they give you some time before you have to be back on set?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Probably not much.”
I thought back to when I saw Nicole in the water. It was a scene I wanted to erase from my mind.
Preston moved to step past me. “Well, we’re getting coffee. It was nice meeting you.”
“Try Glorious Grits down on Main Street. Their coffee’s always fresh,” I advised him.
“Is that it?” Alice asked. “Aren’t you going to ask him more questions?”
“What else am I supposed to say?” I muttered, hoping Preston didn’t hear me. “That conversation was awkward enough. I don’t think I could have asked any more questions. Especially with that big ape hovering around him.”
I went back to my shop. Heather’s still wasn’t open, so I’d have to tell her about my encounter with Preston later. She’d be sorry that she’d missed it. The air shifted as Alice and Charlotte moved around me. I could tell they were upset with the way I’d handled the interaction with Preston. I couldn’t help it. They’d have to learn to deal with it. With any luck they’d give me the silent treatment all day. I glanced back and spotted Preston and his bodyguard walking toward the coffee shop. There was something odd about Preston, but I couldn’t pinpoint it.
Charlotte shooed me away from her. “Don’t just stand there. You should go back and talk with him.”
“Don’t you want to get coffee?” Alice said.
“No, not really.” I started walking toward the café.
I knew I looked like a crazy woman talking to myself while I stood on the sidewalk since no one was around. I hoped that my odd behavior had gone unnoticed. The muscular man paused in front of the café, and I wondered if he would catch me staring at him. Without seeming to notice me, the man turned to his left.
He walked over to a black Mercedes parked at the curb, opened the door, and reached in. Preston was waiting by the coffee shop door, but not paying attention to what his companion was doing. He seemed to be studying the sign in the window that advertised a chicken barbecue at the local Methodist Church.
After a couple seconds, the man backed out of the car and closed the door. I watched as he joined Preston at the coffee shop. They talked for a moment without going inside. I thought maybe they were going to leave, but then they went into the shop. At least now I knew what car they were driving, although I guess that had little to do with anything. I could be on the lookout for them again though.
Just when I was ready to turn around and leave, I spotted something on the ground by the Mercedes. Alice and Charlotte must have noticed it at the same time.
“What is that?” Alice asked.
“It looks like a bag,” Charlotte said. “Some kind of a blue duffel.”
“Oh, you have to go check it out,” Alice said.
She was awfully bold considering she wasn’t the one who would get caught.
“Yes, you definitely have to get a closer look,” Charlotte urged.
Normally I would have said no way, but something about the situation intrigued me. After crossing the street, I tried to act causal as I strolled down the sidewalk toward the abandoned bag. If I acted normal, no one would suspect I was up to something, right? Finally I made it to the black Mercedes. Now I had no idea what to do.
“Get the bag,” Alice nudged.
“What if someone sees me?” I said out of the corner of my mouth.
Charlotte sighed. “No one is watching, just get it.”
“What if there’s something creepy in it?” I asked.
“What do you think it contains? A bunch of poisonous snakes?” Charlotte asked.
“Possibly.”
Charlotte scanned the area. “The longer you stand here, the more likely it is that someone will see you. So just act causal and pick up the bag.”
The ghosts were losing their patience with me.
“There’s a fallen branch there by the tree. Pick that up and poke the bag with it. If there are snakes in there you’ll know it,” Alice said.
I released a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
This seemed crazy. Then again, so was talking to ghosts. I reached down, grabbed the stick, and jabbed the bag. I jumped back just in case something came after me. Nothing moved or made a noise.
Charlotte looked smug. “See, I told you it was safe.”
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was coming. When I was reasonably confident, I reached down and grabbed the blue duffel. It probably just held some clothing, but I had to admit, I was interested in seeing the contents. I guess I was curious about who had killed Nicole, after all. If it contained harmless items, I could return it to Preston and talk to him some more. I wouldn’t mind another close look at those incredible eyelashes.
“Unzip it and see what’s inside,” Charlotte said.
“This kind of gives me the creeps,” I said. Nevertheless, I carried the bag toward my shop and set it down on the hood of my Buick.
“You can’t let a little feeling like that stand in our way,” Alice said.
No, of course not. She wasn’t the one intercepting the bag.
As I stood there with my hand on the zipper, I knew that I shouldn’t look through the duffel, but I had to make sure it belonged to Preston, right? I unzipped it and rummaged through the contents. There were a few self-portrait photos of Preston flexing his biceps. A few articles of clothing, like T-shirts and gym shorts, and some protein bars.
“It must be Preston’s gym bag,” I said.
The words had barely left my mouth when I saw the other item. It was a jewelry box.
“What’s that?” Charlotte asked, standing on tiptoes to peer over my shoulder.
I opened the little black velvet box. The diamond ring was huge and sparkled more than I remembered. I’d seen the ring before, when it had been on Nicole’s finger. At least I was pretty sure it was her engagement ring.
How had Preston gotten it back? Had she given it back during their fight? Had they broken up? Preston didn’t mention it today. He had acted as if their engagement was still on when she’d been killed. Now that I had seen what was in the bag, I didn’t know what to do with it. It contained the expensive ring, so I couldn’t just put it back on the sidewalk next to the Mercedes.
“What do I do with it?” I asked.
“See if the car is unlocked,” Charlotte said.
“It probably has an alarm.” I walked over to the vehicle and peered in.
I couldn’t tell if the doors were locked unless I tried to open one. I doubted that the man would leave t
he car unlocked. Sugar Creek seemed like a safe town until dead bodies started showing up. With my adrenaline high, I reached out and grabbed the handle. When I pulled the door, it opened and no alarm sounded. Whew.
“That was a touchy situation,” Alice said.
“You’re telling me.”
I tossed the bag onto the seat and slammed the door shut. I couldn’t believe Preston had been so careless with the ring. At least it was out of my hands now. Maybe I should have told him I’d found it and that his car was unlocked. Then again, I didn’t want him to think I was a celebrity stalker. I’d just leave it where it was.
“Now we know that he doesn’t really care about that ring,” Charlotte said.
“That’s true, or he would have taken better care of it,” Alice added.
I thought back about meeting Nicole. She’d briefly stopped in the store with several other women the other day. One woman—I thought—was her agent, and the other was an assistant. I’d sold Nicole a Dior floor-length blue dress from the seventies that she said she might wear to the premiere of Moonlight and Magnolias. I’d been excited because that would have been great publicity for the shop. I wished I’d asked her more questions when I’d had the chance, but I hadn’t wanted to bother her. I had wanted her experience in my shop to be a pleasant one so that she could tell others how much she liked it.
I slipped into my store and tucked my purse behind the counter. The ghosts walked in as though they owned the place.
“They were fighting,” Alice said.
“Well, we already know that,” I said as I turned on my computer.
“That just means he had the motive. I wonder why the police haven’t arrested him already.”
I straightened a pink Suzy Perette silk gown on its hanger. “I suppose they have their reasons.”
Charlotte moved toward the front of the shop. “I suggest you find out what those reasons are.” She waved and disappeared out the front door.
“Yes, that’s exactly it. You have to call the handsome detective and ask him.” Alice tapped her finger against the counter.
After flipping the sign to OPEN, I worked on changing the dress on the mannequin in the window. I’d decided on a summer picnic theme in both display areas. This one would be from the fifties and the other window would be from the seventies. My mother had found a pristine condition vintage wicker picnic basket, so I placed it in the window with a red-and-white checkered tablecloth. I also placed small bottles of Coca-Cola next to the basket. I dressed one of the mannequins in red-and-white-checked high-waist cotton capri pants with a white halter that had tiny red flower buttons on the front. The other mannequin wore a handmade blue-and-white polka-dot dress. The neck and hem had red ricrac trim.
Wind Song looked up at me.
“Do you like the dress I picked out for the window?” I asked her.
She meowed, so I took that as a yes.
“You didn’t answer me,” Alice said.
“That’s because the answer is no. I can’t ask the detective any questions.”
“Can’t or won’t?” she said.
“Both,” I said.
Alice’s voice took on a wheedling tone. “I just want to help you and the dearly departed Nicole. She was wearing my dress, for heaven’s sake. It’s like fate that I should help solve her murder.”
“You have a strange idea about fate,” I said and returned to my work. After several hours, I’d redesigned the windows and placed recently acquired items on the shelves and racks. Only a few customers wandered in, looked around, and wandered out.
When five o’clock finally arrived, I was more than ready to head home. Alice was with me, of course, but Charlotte had disappeared again. Maybe someday she’d tell me where she was going all the time. It had only been a short time ago that she couldn’t move away from me; now it seemed she could go where she wanted.
Chapter 8
Charlotte’s Handy-Dandy Tips for Navigating the Afterlife
Walking through walls may be strange at first, but it’s a pretty nifty trick.
I had a simple but tasty dinner of breaded baked chicken and sautéed greens. Alice was pacing the living room floor, but at least she was being quiet. I welcomed the chance to do a little work on my blog. Wind Song was sitting in her favorite spot on the back of the sofa again. Her eyes were closed, but I didn’t think she was really sleeping.
After blogging about the fun of providing vintage items for the film, I closed my laptop and headed toward my bedroom. It was time to turn in for the night, and I was looking forward to the comfort of my bed. I’d almost made it to the room when my phone rang.
I raced back to the living room and grabbed my cell. I was expecting it to be either my mother or Heather. They were the only people who called me at that time of the night. Why did Dylan pop into my mind? Of course it wouldn’t be him calling me.
“Cookie?” the female voice asked when I answered.
“Yes?” I said.
I wasn’t sure I recognized the woman.
“This is Shiloh Northcutt. I wanted to discuss returning the clothing when the movie wraps up. Can you meet me at the Plaza Hotel tomorrow morning at nine?”
“Sure, I can be there,” I said.
“Great, I’ll see you then. I’m on the fourth floor. Room 408.” Shiloh hung up.
This would make Alice and Charlotte happy. I headed for bed, and Alice followed me into the room. This was becoming her routine. This time I was ready for her though. I’d purchased earplugs, which I hoped would drown out her incessant chatter enough for me to get some rest.
The next morning, after a much better night’s sleep than my previous one, I dressed in a forties taffeta black skirt with a delicate red-and-white floral pattern. My white cotton blouse had a Peter Pan collar and tiny pearl buttons down the front. Red pumps completed my outfit. I grabbed a white purse and was ready for the meeting. I’d drop Wind Song off at the store and then go to the hotel from there. That meant that I would be opening the store a little later than usual.
While I drove, I called Heather and asked if she could open my shop for me. We often looked after each other’s businesses.
“Are you kidding?” Heather had asked when I explained why I’d be delayed. “If you’re meeting with Shiloh, I’m coming with you. I don’t want to miss out on the action. We’ll both open late.”
Since I didn’t want to disappoint Heather, I said, “I’m on my way to your house.”
I was thankful that I would have another living person coming with me.
After dropping off Wind Song and picking up Heather, I drove us toward the hotel. Alice and Charlotte rode in the backseat. Heather simply wouldn’t allow a ghost to call shotgun and make her sit in the backseat. There was something I wanted to ask Alice, so I figured what better time than when I had her in the car.
“Alice, you’ve never explained how you can move objects.” Her image was still visible to me in the rearview mirror.
“I don’t know, it just comes naturally. I think if you want it bad enough it will happen,” she said.
I supposed that made sense.
Charlotte studied the scenery out the window. I knew she wasn’t happy that she hadn’t mastered that otherworldly talent yet.
The hotel was on the outer edge of town. It had a large lobby with several conference rooms on the first floor. Shiloh had said her room was on the fourth floor. So the four of us stepped on the elevator and headed for her room. I wondered what Alice and Charlotte would have done if the elevator had been full? Would they have floated up to the fourth floor? I wouldn’t have been able to ask other passengers to move over because I had two ghosts that needed a ride.
We walked down the hallway and stopped in front of room 408. I knocked on the door.
“I hope she doesn’t mind that I came along,” Heather whispered.
“I’m sure she won’t care,” I said.
Movement sounded from the other side of the door. Shiloh opened the door wid
e. She looked at me and then over at Heather.
“Glad you could make it.” She motioned for us to come inside.
“This is my friend Heather.” I gestured.
“Nice to meet you.” Shiloh didn’t seem to care one way or the other if Heather was there. Shiloh wore beige dress slacks and a white blouse. Her hair fell to her shoulders in soft waves.
“I guess you can imagine that the set has been chaos since Nicole’s death.”
I could imagine. “It is terrible to lose her that way,” I said.
“Ask her what she thinks happened,” Alice pushed.
Shiloh sat in the brown leather chair by the window. “We have to postpone the movie for a few days while we figure out what to do.”
“Well, that’s not as long as I thought it would take,” I said.
Shiloh scowled. “It’s longer than I have. Time is money.”
I glanced at Heather, but she didn’t say anything.
“I don’t like this woman,” Charlotte said.
Charlotte probably said what Heather was thinking.
“Does this mean you’ll need to keep my vintage costumes longer than we had planned?” I asked. “I’m afraid I would have to charge an extra fee for that.”
“There’s just a few more scenes with a couple more outfits and then I can return them,” she said. “Just send your bill to the accounting department.”
I wondered if I would get back the dress that Nicole had worn when she drowned. I guessed not—Dylan would have to keep it as evidence, right? At least I hoped so because I wasn’t sure that I wanted it.
Shiloh’s phone rang. She looked at the screen and then said, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to take this call out in the hallway.”
I nodded. “No problem.”
When she left the room, Heather said, “Wow, she is a bit odd. She doesn’t seem to care in the least that Nicole is dead.”
“I’m just ready to get out of here,” I said.
