I bit down on my lower lip to keep from bursting out laughing.
Flapjack, not one to bother with self-control, snorted. “Pot. Kettle.”
Gwen missed his reference and raced ahead. “We really need a day to catch up on our girl talk, because it sounds fabulous! Unfortunately, that’s not what I came to tell you. ”
“There’s nothing to catch up on. I’m seeing Lucas … or, at least, seeing where things go with Lucas. I’m not interested in dating Jason. He’s a nice guy, and he does look good in his police uniform, but he’s not really my type.”
“Honey, tall, dark, and handsome is every woman’s type. Well, except maybe those women who like the surfer-boy types. Hmm. All oiled up on the beach, sand and sweat covering their chiseled bodies…”
“Gwen,” I said, clearing my throat. “You’re drifting.”
Her eyes snapped open. “Right, right. Where was I?”
“Apparently at the start of a really cheesy boy-band music video,” Flapjack replied.
Gwen held up a hand and then shook her head, as though receiving some kind of frequency from the back of her mind. “Myra! It’s about M&M. She’s missing.”
I wrinkled my nose.
“Remember how I told you that she was having weird visions, waking up in strange places. Well, now she’s gone missing. No one has seen her in two days. I have a bad feeling about it, Scarlet. We need to figure out what’s going on!” Her voice ratcheted up with each word, ending somewhere between panicked and full-blown hysterical.
“Gwen. Gwen! Calm down. We’ll find her.” I reached over as though to pat her shoulder, but stopped short just before my hand passed through her. “I’ve never heard of a ghost simply disappearing. She’s gotta be here in town, somewhere.”
Gwen gulped. “I hope so.”
“The next two days are going to be a little crazy now that I have to do Kimberly’s last-minute funeral arrangements, but once I drop them off at the Lilac property, I’ll help you find Myra. We’ll call a special meeting of the support group to see if anyone else has seen her or knows where she might be.”
“Okay. Thanks, Scarlet.”
“Can you get everyone together? Seven o’clock?”
“Sure thing!”
A missing ghost, a posthumously alimony-hungry divorcee, and a dead bridezilla. Yup, my bingo card was officially full. Can I get a prize and go home now?
Chapter 8
Knowing how unpleasant Kimberly had been in life, I was surprised to find her funeral crowded, especially considering most of the attendees had flown in from the East Coast on such short notice. Then again, from what I’d gathered, most of the Gardner’s and Schmidt’s associates were the type who had private jets on speed dial.
Originally, I’d only planned to stay long enough to set up the floral arrangements, but as I was adding a few buds to the vases framing the larger-than-life portrait of Kimberly, her mother spotted me and asked me to stay through the service and reception. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but how could I say no to a grieving mother on the day of her daughter’s funeral?
Guests filled the bed and breakfast, mingling together in clusters along the rows of white chairs arranged in rows throughout the large living room. The furnishings and decorations all were intended for use in weddings and other happier occasions and didn’t quite reflect the somber mood of those gathered. Everyone was speaking in soft voices and occasionally glancing toward the front, at the large photo of Kimberly. Meanwhile, her mother and father clung to one another as they made the rounds, addressing friends and family.
I stayed in the back of the room, halfway in the entryway, watching the heart-wrenching scene with discomfort. I didn’t belong there. I’d only known Kimberly for a few months, and I’d spent most of those wishing she was anywhere but Beechwood Harbor. Granted, I’d never gone so far as to wish for that place to be six feet under. Still, I felt like a fraud and an intruder.
“Well, well, well. Isn’t this quaint?”
I jolted and whipped around to find Kimberly herself eying the procession from the foyer of the stately home.
“Seriously, what were they thinking with these flowers?”
“That’s what you’re concerned about?” I hissed at her out of the corner of my mouth. “Oh, and PS—I worked hard on those arrangements!”
Kimberly pulled a face. “Maybe it’s a good thing I died before the wedding, then.”
I scoffed and stalked off in the other direction. Punching a ghost on the day of her funeral wasn’t the classiest move. Besides that, it would look incredibly strange to anyone that might happen to turn around and witness me karate chopping the air.
“What are you even doing here?” Kimberly asked, following after me. “It’s not like we were friends or anything.”
“For your information, your mother asked me to stay,” I whispered.
“She probably felt sorry for you. You look all pasty and thin, like you haven’t had a good meal in a while.”
I ignored her and sped forward to tend to a drooping rose in one of the arrangements near the door. I was going to fix it, make one more pass through the space as the last of the guests were arriving, and then I was leaving. No one would notice one way or the other.
Kimberly followed after me like a lost dog, though for the life of me, I didn’t know why. She’d made it clear she didn’t care for me. I fixed the rose and fluffed a couple neighboring arrangements. Satisfied, I headed for the door, ready to leave.
“No one even looks sad,” Kimberly finally said, her voice quiet and small.
I stopped walking and glanced back at her. “What? That’s ridiculous. Of course they’re sad!” I looked around and considered the cluster of people nearest to us. They were talking, well, more like chatting, with one another. No one was outright smiling but—
The tallest man in the group chuckled.
Heat rushed over my cheeks. “Kimberly, this is totally normal. Everyone has a different way of coping with—”
More laughter.
I cocked an eyebrow. What was going on out there?
Kimberly seemed bent on finding out for herself. She surged forward toward the group. I lunged after her, but of course there was nothing for me to snag or pull on. She was gone.
I drew in a deep breath and slid my eyes back toward the front doors. Three, maybe four feet and I’d be free. I could run for my newly-repaired delivery van and race back to the safety of my shop. I started for the door and had one hand on the handle, but something stopped me. I turned and watched Kimberly. She hovered outside the group of friends who were talking, and her face fell a little more with every passing moment. After another round of quiet laughter, she pivoted away and floated to observe a new group. Then another. And another. Each one left her more deflated.
She came to a stop in front of her parents and sister. They were standing with Sonya, speaking in quiet, respectable tones.
“Mom! Dad!” Kimberly bellowed, inches from their faces. “Look! I’m right here!”
My chest clenched as I watched her, and my fingers slid away from the door handle.
“Please! Hear me! I’m right—” her voice broke and dissolved into sobs.
“Damn it,” I cursed.
Then, something ran across my mind, a flicker of a realization. I quickly scanned the room and my jaw dropped as I put my thumb on the reason behind the sudden apprehension.
Casper, Kimberly’s fiancé, wasn’t in attendance.
Where was he? What could possibly keep him from her funeral? Something wasn’t right. Sonya had told me there was trouble in paradise, but to skip out on the whole thing? That was cold. Ice cold.
Kimberly was sobbing at the front of the room, reduced to a silvery puddle at her parent’s feet.
“Oh dear.” A familiar voice sounded over my shoulder. “What’s going on?”
I turned my head to look over at Gwen. Of course she would be in attendance. Weddings and funerals were always the best watering h
oles for gossip. She couldn’t help herself. Moth to a flame. “Can you go get her? Bring her to the meeting tonight. We’ll figure something out.”
“Of course.” Gwen floated past me and went through the throng of attendees to help pick Kimberly up from the floor. The women exchanged a few words and I headed to the exit.
I didn’t want to deal with Kimberly, but what choice did I really have? Flapjack would mock me endlessly for being such a marshmallow, but I couldn’t just leave her there, crying on the floor.
“Scarlet!”
Drat. So close.
I turned and saw Sonya hustling across the space, weaving around a crowd of people to reach me. She raised a finger when our eyes met and I released my hold on the door handle for the second time. “Is something wrong with the flowers?” I asked when she caught up to me. If her mother was anything like her daughter, then pickiness was embedded in their DNA.
“Oh, no. No. The flowers look great.” Sonya cast a glance behind her. “Between you and me, no one is paying much attention to the flowers anyway. Casper’s no-show has everyone talking.”
“He really isn’t coming?”
“No one can reach him. He’s not picking up his phone and his hotel says he checked out late last night.”
“Wow.” I shook my head slowly. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“No one did.”
I tilted my head. “Kimberly didn’t either.”
“Excuse me?” Sonya said.
Heat flushed my cheeks. “I mean, I’m sure she would have expected him be here. You know, to say goodbye.”
Sonya exhaled as she gave a short nod. “I’m sure. She must be steaming in her grave!”
I glanced past her at Kimberly, clinging to Gwen like she was the last life raft in shark-infested waters. Then it hit me. She was worried that people didn’t look sad enough, but hadn’t said a word about Casper being MIA. Shouldn’t that have bothered her more than keeping a tally of how many tissues were being used in the course of the afternoon?
“Sorry.” Sonya placed her fingertips at her temples. “It’s been a long six weeks. I think my brain is fried. Please don’t tell anyone I said that.”
I dragged my attention back to her and gave her a tight smile. “I won’t.”
She sighed. “This whole fiasco has me rethinking my plans to hire a partner and expand my business. Part of me wants to go back to making coffee at the local Starbucks.”
“You were a barista before becoming a wedding planner?”
“That’s right. Feels like a hundred years ago.” She smiled slightly. “I’m good with people and I’ve always loved weddings. Well, at least until now. This one had everything I hate all rolled into one massive mess! I would have quit, probably half a dozen times, but to be frank, I really need the commission check. I’m trying to expand my business and can’t get a loan if I don’t pay off some of my existing debts. I’ve been putting out feelers to get a partner on board, but so far, I’m coming up empty. The commission from Kimberly and Casper’s wedding will be enough to get me in the black in one fell swoop.”
“Will be? You mean you’re still getting it?”
Sonya nodded. “Oh, yes. They were past the point of getting a refund on any of it. I feel bad, but that’s just how this business works. If you ask me, Casper and Kimberly were on the verge of implosion anyway. I don’t know that they would have made it to the alter one way or the other.”
I flinched at her bold statement but kept my mouth shut.
Gwen was speaking with Kimberly off to one side of a large table set up at the front of the room. There was no body present, as her parents had opted to have her sent back to their family plot in Upstate New York. Instead, two large floral arrangements flanked a huge framed picture of a younger Kimberly. I had no idea what the occasion had been, but she wore a formal dress and a ton make-up. I wondered if it was from her debutante debut.
“Speaking of, are you all set? Do I owe you a check?”
I shook my head, still trying to wrap my mind around the jumbled thoughts. “I’m fine. It was no problem to do the flowers.”
If only that were the end of my obligation.
Gwen shepherded Kimberly into the meeting at seven o’clock, only a couple of hours after I’d last seen them at the funeral. As it turned out, Kimberly wasn’t the only special guest at the emergency ghost pow-wow. Ruthie joined the crowd filling Lily Pond’s retail space a few minutes after Gwen and Kimberly. The two women exchanged icy glares across the room but didn’t address one another. Small mercies.
At ghost get-togethers, there was no need for snacks and cocktails, so things tended to dive right into the action, and Ruthie didn’t waste a single moment. “My ex-husband has brought in a different voodoo chick,” she complained, stamping her foot against the floor. “She’s fairly incompetent, but did manage to get some kind of lock put in place on his bathroom door. No more messages in the mirror.”
I winced. Dr. Barnes hadn’t even mentioned that detail of the haunting.
“You write on his mirror?” Gwen stammered.
Ruthie flashed a conniving grin. “They’re more like drawings. Atomically correct renderings of his tiny little—”
“Enough!” I barked, holding up a hand. “Ruthie, what do you want?”
I fished out the iron frying pan in case I needed back-up.
“I’m ready to make a deal,” she said. “If you can get him to fork over half of the alimony, I’ll leave him alone. You can even teach him the frying pan trick if that will make him feel better about me holding up my side of the bargain. He might need a little convincing to trust me.”
“Gee, I wonder why,” I muttered.
The bell attached to the front door jingled and I groaned. Lucas was early.
He looked up and his smile slid off his handsome face. “I’m going to assume that was an ‘I’m so hungry I could eat a rubber shoe’ kind of growl, not a ‘this guy again?’ kind of sound.”
He held up a pair of white paper bags, each sporting a fair amount of grease stains. My mouth watered just imagining the fried delights they might conceal. The smell of chili-cheese fries wafted my way and I nearly drooled down the front of my t-shirt. “Though, if you need some convincing, these oughta do the trick.”
“Actually, it was a ‘crap, there are ten ghosts in here’ kind of groan.” I cast an apologetic glance around the room. It was awkward ignoring them as they stood there in a semi-circle, blinking and uneasy. Gwen was used to Lucas being around—maybe a little too used to him—but the others were wary of strangers and probably even more so when I blurted out their presence. “We’re having a bit of a last minute meeting. There’s a ghost missing.”
“Missing? How does that even happen?”
“I’ll explain later. Give me ten minutes?”
Lucas nodded as he rounded the front counter. He paused when he reached me and dropped a kiss to my forehead. He might look special-ops, ready to jump out of a helicopter, but inside, I was learning just how much of a romantic he was underneath the layers of sheer, rock-hard manliness. It was rapidly becoming my favorite thing about him.
“I’ll take this upstairs and find a movie.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I watched him go with an appreciative eye, momentarily forgetting my audience. “Not RoboCop again!”
He laughed as he tugged open the metal security door and started up the steep set of stairs that led to my apartment. When the door clanged shut, I turned back to face the group. “Sorry about that.”
Twenty pairs of eyes blinked in unison.
“He knows about us?” one ghost in the back of the crowd asked.
“Can he see us too?” another asked, though the answer seemed obvious.
I lifted both hands, palms out to the small crowd. “Lucas knows about my gift. That’s as far as his involvement goes.”
I was going to make sure of it.
“Now, let’s get back on track. My fries are getting cold.” I sighed and swiveled
my gaze to one end of the room. Ruthie, I’ll speak to Dr. Barnes, but I can’t make any promises. In the meantime, leave him alone, okay? I don’t think turning up the temperature is going to get you anywhere. Next time, he might find himself someone who can actually get you kicked out and you’ll be lucky if you just end up expelled from the house and not from the entire plane.”
A collective chill went through the ghosts gathered.
Apparently, there were things worse than death.
Chapter 9
Ruthie departed, satisfied at least for the time being, and I attempted to bring the meeting back to order. “Now, the real reason I’ve called you all here is to discuss an emerging situation about Myra, or M&M, as most of us know her. Has anyone here seen her since Tuesday?”
I waited, clinging to the hope that Gwen was simply being over dramatic, but when the crowd was quiet, my heart sank.
“Wait!” Kimberly surged forward, planting herself front and center. “I thought this meeting was about me?”
My eyes slid shut. This is what I get for trying to be nice.
“Kimberly, we’ll get to your concern in a—”
“Concern? Are you kidding me? I just came from my funeral! My funeral, people!”
I cocked my hip and crossed my arms. “You do realize that, excluding myself, everyone in this room has had a funeral? You can’t really pull rank among the dead. The spirit world doesn’t work like that. There is no rich or poor, important, not important, or any other classification that applies in the human world. So, while I’m happy to help, you’re still dependent on my generosity and discretion, and right now, I’m more worried about the fact that a ghost who has lived here for years has suddenly up and disappeared.”
Kimberly’s expression soured as she mirrored my closed off posture. “Then why bother bringing me here?”
I glanced around the room and wondered the same thing. For some reason, watching her crumple and fall apart at her mother’s and father’s feet had awoken my compassion for the woman. Naturally, I felt compelled to help ghosts, to the point that the spirit world had eclipsed my participation in the mortal one during various seasons of life. At first, all I’d wanted to do was get Kimberly’s spirit away from me and the entire town of Beechwood Harbor if possible, but that had shifted. Though the question remained: what could I really do? Her sole focus was on getting back into her body. An impossibility.
Ghosts Gone Wild: A Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries Book 2) Page 7
