The Haunted Heist

by Angie Fox

  Until the ghost halted. “Balls. I need a drink.”

  “No!” I shouted as she smoothed her hair and turned to Henry.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she said, wrapping both her arms around one of Henry’s and kissing him on his scarred cheek. For the first time, I saw the gangster smile. And I watched in horror as he led her away.

  We were alone when Ellis broke through the last of the seal.

  Chapter 22

  “Open it,” Carla ordered.

  Ellis shoved against the thick stone barrier and it fell inside the grave with a mighty thud. This was it—the end. I braced myself for the gunshot when suddenly, a flash photograph snapped off to our left.

  Carla pinned me to the vault with her gun and turned. “Show yourself! Now! Or she’s dead!”

  “Do it, please,” Ellis urged, hands raised.

  For a breathlessly long moment, no one emerged.

  Then Em stepped out from behind the large tombstone. She wore dark jeans and a black shirt, and had her blond hair pulled back into a tight ponytail.

  “You’re the one going down, Carla,” Em said, a little too confident for her own good. She held up her iPhone. “I have a great shot of you breaking into mom’s grave. And holding a weapon on a townie.” Carla sneered and Em froze, as if she suddenly realized the bank VP could turn the gun on her next. The younger woman blinked hard. “I have the picture addressed and ready to text to a girlfriend in Chicago,” she warned. “One move and it goes to her, and she goes to the police.” Em’s expression darkened. “I know you killed my dad.”

  Carla stared her down. “Prove it.”

  Em flinched. “I’ve been trying.”

  “By following me here the other night?” Carla demanded. “I was ready to slit your throat until I found Verity and Lauralee in your house instead of you.”

  Em appeared shaken at the threat. Nevertheless, she took one step forward, then another. “What do you want with Mom’s grave?”

  “Your dad’s money,” she said, relishing Em’s added surprise. “He promised me my share. And if you work with me, I don’t see any problem giving you yours.”

  Em halted. “How much is in there?”

  “Everything he took from you,” she said, “plus more.” Carla pressed the gun hard against my chest. “I don’t need it all. But if you want me to turn over your part, you will need to prove your loyalty.”

  “Hit send on the picture,” Ellis urged.

  “She won’t,” Carla said, with too much confidence for my taste. “We all know what’s important to EmmaJane, and it certainly isn’t any of you.”

  And she was right. Em didn’t push that button.

  Instead, she seemed to be considering Carla’s offer. “You killed my father and you want me to work with you.” Her words were halted, her tone stiff, but she didn’t say no.

  Carla saw it too, and the corners of her mouth turned up. “You can build a new life,” she reasoned, as if this were what should have happened in the first place.

  “Don’t do it,” I warned.

  “Oh, why not?” Em glared at me. “So I can stay here and survive on Lauralee’s chicken dinners? Play a little bingo at the VFW Hall?” She glanced over Carla’s shoulder. “He’s getting away.”

  Ellis had begun moving toward his gun. “Stop!” She shoved the gun barrel against my chest once more, pinning me to the grave. Ellis, breathing heavy, stayed where he was. “Back here,” Carla ordered, motioning until he stood in her sights once more. “Good girl,” she said to Em.

  Em slicked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. “Seems like you need me.” Her face went cold, calculating. “If I’m going to work with you at all on this, I need you to admit what you did to my dad.” Her voice iced over. “I want to hear you say it.”

  Carla gave a slight nod. “I killed your father.”

  Tears formed in Em’s eyes. “Say his name.”

  “I killed Reggie Thompson,” Carla stated, her voice betraying hurt. “But admit it. You wanted him dead, too. He promised everything and then took it away. But you’re free now. And you can be a very rich woman.”

  “If I kill these two,” Em said, guessing Carla’s angle.

  “Just one,” Carla couched. “We’re a team, right?”

  “You can’t even be considering—” I began.

  “Shut up,” Em ordered.

  “It’ll be easy and quick. The cop’s gun is over in the grass,” Carla said. I watched in horror as Em went to retrieve it.

  She came back, holding Ellis’s service revolver out in front of her.

  Carla observed Em’s every move, calculating. “Choose one. He’s wearing body armor, so you’d have to plug him in the head. Pick her and you can shoot her wherever you want, as long as she’s dead. We store them in the grave…after we take the money.”

  “They’ll blame us,” Em said tightly.

  Carla pulled off the clip-on earrings she wore. “These came out of the same safety-deposit box as the hit man’s watch.” She deposited them in her pocket. “We’ll plant them on the bodies and blame it on the ghost again.”

  “The ghosts will get angry,” I warned. “The hit man knows what you did to him.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure he’s rolling in his grave,” Carla said flippantly.

  “I’m serious,” I said, desperate, as Em pointed her gun at me. Always me. “I talk to ghosts. That’s how Ellis and I have solved murders before.” Carla smiled, backing away to give Em a clean shot.

  “It’s true,” Ellis said. “Every word of it.” He took one slow step forward, then another. “Your father would never have wanted this for you,” Ellis warned.

  “My father and I never could agree on anything,” Em said, firing.

  Her shot went wide.

  I ducked and fell to the ground.

  “Shoot her again!” Carla ordered.

  But Em turned the gun on Carla. “Psych,” she said as flashing police lights lit up the night. I saw them speeding through the cemetery toward us. “I called 9-1-1. They’ve heard and recorded our entire conversation.” Em grinned. “It means you’re caught, bitch.”

  And so was I.

  Chapter 23

  Carla made a full confession the next day. She didn’t have a choice. She’d already admitted to murder in front of me, Ellis, Em, and the entire Sugarland police department.

  It seemed Carla had gotten into banking for the money, and Reggie had offered her the promised land if she did what he wanted, but he’d yanked the prize at the end. Instead of making her a rich mortgage lender in Chicago, he’d brought her down to Sugarland to change them both.

  She’d gone for the payoff instead.

  Reggie had lost his life, along with Jeb, who had caught her following us.

  The next afternoon, on a cold and blustery day, I gave in and wore my monstrosity of a coat as Ellis and I stood outside the Thomson family vault with Lauralee. The three of us stood vigil as workers resealed the tomb.

  “I can’t believe he hid all this money in my aunt’s grave,” my friend said, her voice small. “Reggie did tend to act quickly, but still…” she trailed off.

  “His mistake was telling Carla,” Ellis said. “She admits she came down to Sugarland to get the money. Only Reggie would know if she took it, so she decided he had to die as well.”

  “And his death would get the grave open,” Lauralee said woodenly.

  I hugged her. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  Lauralee wiped her eyes. “Em was too smart for Carla. I wish she would have let us help her.”

  “So do I.” Em had suspected Carla all along, but she’d had no proof. “But Em didn’t trust us.”

  Dead leaves crunched under Em’s polished boots as she walked up to join us. “I still think you all are a bunch of crazies,” she said somewhat fondly. “I didn’t know who to trust. But I knew Carla was way too anxious to put my dad in the ground. I thought that meant she was hiding evidence, not uncovering cash.”

 
; “But you followed her to the cemetery anyway,” I said.

  “I had to know what she was doing,” Em agreed. “She’d come over again, insisting I bury him. I lied and told her I’d already turned him over to be cremated. Then I followed her.”

  “She was hell-bent on getting the cash one way or another,” Lauralee said, heartbroken. “She’d already destroyed him. And for what?”

  “About twenty million dollars,” Em said, wiping a tear. “We had our problems, but I miss him so much.” She didn’t even flinch when Lauralee embraced her. And a few seconds later, Em even hugged her back.

  “You were brave,” I said. Em investigated despite her grief and when she had no one to back her. At least I had my friends. And Frankie.

  “I wasn’t going to shoot you,” Em said, wiping her eyes. “I’m a good shot. If I meant to hit you, I would have.”

  “I believe you.” It was all in the report. “Although it would have been nice to know at the time.”

  “You were perfect,” Ellis agreed. “You had me fooled.”

  “So what are you going to do now?” Lauralee asked her cousin. “I hope you realize that despite…everything, you always have a home here.”

  Em sniffed, and judging from the shadow of a smile, it appeared as if she almost considered it. “Thanks, but I don’t belong in Sugarland. I don’t know where I fit in. But I’m going to find out.”

  “I can help—” my friend began.

  “No.” Em held up her hand. “I mean, please don’t,” she said, lowering it. “I’m going to travel, study, take courses and see what I like, what I can do for people.”

  “For people. I like that,” I told her.

  “It’s a good start,” Lauralee agreed.

  Em gave a weak smile.

  My friend wrapped an arm around her cousin and started talking about how Em used to love to teach other kids to dance when she was small.

  Ellis and I attempted to slip away.

  “Nice to see you two,” Lauralee called after us. “I’m glad you’re giving it a go. You both deserve to be happy,” she said, with the wisdom of a woman who knew what that was like. “Although if you hurt her, I’ll remove your intestines with a fork.”

  Spoken like a true friend.

  We strolled through the graveyard, along no particular path, but one that led to Rosie’s place all the same. I’d already told Ellis what had happened on the ghostly side during our ordeal at the cemetery, and how I’d hoped for Rosie’s or Henry’s help.

  When we reached her vault, it hurt me to see the lichen-encrusted tomb appeared even more run down in the light of day. Rust caked the metal entry grate, and sparse grass struggled against ugly bare dirt that made up the path to the once-lovely space.

  “Let’s fix it up,” Ellis said. “It’s the least we can do.”

  “Even after she left us?” I did appreciate rational ghosts, but it would have been nice to have some poltergeist support when we needed it.

  “I respect the way she handled herself,” Ellis admitted. “She had some nice things that survived the years, and when she found out Carla stole them, she didn’t let her anger consume her.”

  He had a point. “Who knows what else she took from those abandoned safety-deposit boxes.”

  We knew she’d found Henry’s gun and his watch, along with the earrings. She’d also stashed her murder weapon in one of the old boxes. That made it easy to kill Reggie, then walk out without the murder weapon.

  “I still don’t get how Carla blew out the security camera,” I said.

  Ellis shook his head. “Jeb was outside smoking. She used a simple surge booster.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Reggie had been in the middle of getting bids to upgrade the security system, and she’d been reviewing them. She knew exactly how to blow the existing system. Her boss had done studies.”

  “She didn’t need to kill him. She could have just quit and earned more money.”

  “She felt like she had earned it,” he said quietly. Ellis wrapped an arm around me. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  I kissed him on the shoulder. “You’re the one who got shot.”

  He pulled me closer. “Good thing I’m the police.”

  I couldn’t help but smile up at him. “Yeah, good thing.”

  Carla had made her confession to the world, and so had I. The newspaper printed the transcript of Em’s 911 call in its entirety. And it seemed every radio station in the county had broadcast excerpts. I was out of the closet.

  The next morning, I uncovered the rosebush in my parlor and prepared for my interview with Ovis Dupre. He wanted to know all about my ghost-seeing abilities and my thoughts on Handsome Henry, as well as the gangster tunnel under the bank, for a Sugarland Gazette exclusive article already titled The Haunted Heist.

  It would be a whopper of a story, even if most people didn’t believe it.

  I borrowed Lauralee’s green silk shirt for the occasion. Ovis never went anywhere without his camera, so I might as well look nice.

  Frankie shimmered into view behind me. He’d regained most of his body, save for his arms and a portion of his left shoulder.

  “Tell him to find some old pictures of me, preferably with my favorite gun. There should be lots of them.”

  “I’ll ask him to give it a try,” I promised the ghost as Lucy struggled out from under a blanket on the couch and made a beeline for the kitchen. “You’re sure you want to go forward, with…everything?” I asked.

  The gangster shrugged. “If it’s the only way I can get you to take me out for a little fun, then yes.”

  I tried not to dwell too much on what Frankie meant by fun. “Then we’re ready for our announcement to the paper.”

  We’d even spiffed up Frankie’s final resting place for the occasion. Ellis had gone back down into the speakeasy and recovered the small brass lid to Frankie’s urn. He also replaced Frankie’s trash can with one of the original whiskey barrels from the Southern Spirits distillery. It may have even been one of the barrels that the gangsters had emptied themselves.

  He’d repacked the dirt and now the rosebush stood tall.

  “That’s nice,” Suds said, materializing next to his friend, nodding in approval. “It even matches the rose carved in your urn.”

  “Where?” Frankie asked, and I couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t make out the god-awful drawing Suds had made on his urn, either.

  “It’s right there on her dress,” Suds pointed out.

  “Ah,” Frankie said in admiration.

  Ellis strolled into the room, all sweaty from his labors and definitely comfortable in my space. “While I was outside, I fixed your brake light.”

  “I’d forgotten all about it.” But he hadn’t. Ellis was always watching out for me. I went to him and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”

  He gave a slight grin. He wasn’t used to me fussing over him.

  “Say,” I asked him, “do you happen to know of any preachers who have passed recently? Maybe one that has unfinished business?”

  He pondered the question. “No. Why do you ask?”

  “Hey.” Suds waved a hand. “I’m a preacher.”

  “You?” I asked, too surprised to be polite.

  He made an iffy sign with his hand. “I got it out of the back of a magazine, but I’m licensed.”

  “Good enough. I’m going to host a wedding,” I told Ellis.

  “Right here?” he asked, looking around.

  Yes. “If Matthew and Josephine approve. Suds as well.”

  “I’d better dust off my tux,” Ellis said.

  The snub-nosed gangster whistled under his breath. “I’d better get myself a Bible. Anyone we know die with a Bible?” he asked himself, disappearing.

  I’d leave that to him. I took Ellis’s hand and together we walked over to Frankie, who stood admiring his new resting place. “It looks nice,” I told him.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “For now. You know I’m getti
ng out of here soon.”

  “Right.” We’d figure this out.

  “We just need to keep trying,” he told me.

  Because our plans always worked out so well.

  “Frankie’s strategizing his escape,” I said to Ellis.

  He wrapped an arm around my waist. “Oh good. Just let me know what I need to do.”

  “That’s a promise you may live to regret,” I said, handing him the design I’d started for my new business: Verity Long, Ghost Hunter.

  Ellis grinned. “You may have found your calling.”

  “Maybe,” I said, giddy at the prospect of trying. There was so much more to learn, an entire world to discover. “It’s exciting and scary at the same time.”

  “All the good things are,” he said. And I had a feeling he was talking about us as well.

  I smiled up at him. “We’ll figure it out,” I promised. “Together.”

  He planted a sweet kiss on my forehead. “Together.”

  No doubt it would be a wild ride.

  From Angie Fox:

  Thanks a bunch for dropping in on Verity, Ellis, and the rest of their friends in Sugarland. I’m humbled and grateful for the wonderful reader response this series is receiving. In the next book, Verity is “out” as a ghost hunter. She takes on her first big assignment and gets in over her head in ways she’d never imagined. Meanwhile, Frankie and Suds are starting their own gang...with interesting results.

  The next book is slated for release in fall 2016. If you’d like an email when it is available, sign up for my new release update newsletter at www.angiefox.com. You’ll see the signup at the top right corner of the page. I keep all information private and emails only go out when a new book hits stores.

  I also give out ten free advanced reading copies of my next book in each email. So if you do sign up, be sure to check for your name on the winner’s list!

  Happy reading,

  Angie

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