"Heeeeey Eliana, what's going on?" I added with a false sense of casual outlook. She stopped, eyeing me up and down confused.
"Who are you talking to?" she hissed. I could practically hear the self-entitlement. She was almost smiling at the thought.
"Huh? Oh. I was...on the phone...yeah."
A palpable vibration rung out from my pocket. I looked down at it. Ugh. Terrible timing.
"You know me, so popular right?"
"You sure you don't want to get that?" she asked.
"Don't you have some civil war gossip to dish out?" I replied. The sassy in that statement surprised even me a little, but I stood tall against her highness. Eliana's lips pursed in disapproval. The faster I could get rid of her, the less likely I would find myself accused of insanity.
"Oh I believe so, something about bloodshed. I wonder who did it?" she snapped back casually.
"Yeah. I wonder."
We paused a moment in a stare off.
"Look, I can see it in your face. You're trying to go full Sherlock Holmes and I don't know why. You should just let the police do their jobs," she added.
"Jenny was my friend. Things seem rather amiss here. I mean, why now?"
I wasn't feeling so great and needed some air. My phone kept buzzing in my pocket again. Had to be Harriet, but I wasn't ready to answer it. I needed a moment.
"Like I said, you may want to get that," she added, gesturing at my phone.
She glided off around the corner out of sight. Calinda and Matthew left the lounge. Matthew breezed ahead of his wife around the corner of the hall. Calinda stopped, noticing me slumped against the wall.
"Shelby, are you alright?" she asked. "You're as pale as a ghost."
All things considering, that was hilarious.
"No. I just can't stop thinking about who killed Jenny."
"I know it's hard to comprehend, but we are doing our very best to bring justice to the situation. We'll know the answers soon."
Calinda walked onward. As much as everyone kept promising answers, I wanted the situation on a clear path. Jenny kept silent next to me through much of our exchange, but I supposed I should have been getting back to work as well. Tomorrow would be another eventful day.
Chapter Six
"Just...be careful out there today. No one's been caught yet," Harriet told me over the phone. "I don't want to have to come down there."
"I'll be fine. We've had a whole crowd of people come in yesterday and nobody's died. Police are still hanging around. No wrath of Harriet required."
"Are you sure? I've got all kinds of hammers and nail guns down here you can protect yourself with!"
"Goodbye Harriet!"
I ended the call and put my phone down on the table next to me. Harriet was a nice distraction to speak with as I prepped my completed weaving blanket samples for the day over the display rack. It had been a long Thursday on the opening weekend and I was ready to tackle Friday head on.
Jenny had not visited me yet today so I was able to focus on some of the tasks. I valued time getting to complete work. Sometimes even just grocery shopping became a process when you had people from the other side constantly distracting you, although most of the time it was here at Mad River Old Town.
Yesterday had gone rather smoothly for me given the commotion. I had Jessamine and Phineas in my corner shouting out answers if I was unsure about something mid demonstration, or if I came across a far too smart and sarcastic nine year old who had a question I didn’t expect. Sometimes my sixth sense was really a blessing in disguise.
As I began to thread strips of cotton on to the gin, the birds chirping and spring breeze I usually heard from outside the window was interrupted by loud talking. I couldn't really make out what was said so I tried not to think much of it.
"What's going on?"
Jenny appeared in the doorframe across the room. The talking had attracted her attention.
"I'm sure it's nothing."
The sound grew to an audible commotion. Talking escalated to shouting with additional voices coming in. I could vaguely make out the word "Stop".
"We should probably-"
Jenny nodded back to me and we rushed out the front door of the mill together. Out on the path at the bottom of the hill, Mark and Jimmy Gordon had gotten into an altercation that turned physical. Mark had pinned Jimmy beneath him on the ground. Jimmy, despite being a good ten years older than Mark could hold his own. Mark's strength was unparalleled for someone his age so I had to stop him before someone got hurt.
Jimmy's wife Nancy happened to be passing by at the time the fracas came about and was the one who called out for the fight to quell. Something told me she was not interested in getting her fresh French-manicure dirty. She shuffled from side-to-side unsure of where to go while the men wrestled.
I rushed down the rickety front steps of the mill, still dressed in a rather large set gown and tried my best to dive between the two men for the fighting to stop. It was a wonder I didn't just trip into the situation. I imagined Mark was shocked that a woman was the one to intervene. He’d given up easily, walking backward, allowing my arms stretched out between both their bodies to separate them. This caused Mark to fall backwards into the lower side of the hill. He grabbed for his lower back as it was hit the hardest.
I stood up, my skirt fringe dirtied up pretty good from my dive, but I knew I could fix that later. I was the textiles expert after all. I looked down on the two of them as if I were a parent lecturing children.
"What on Earth is going on? Are you two men or twelve year olds?" I exclaimed.
A crimson shade of red spread into both their cheeks. They were both guilty of something, and it was obviously too embarrassing to share.
"Well?" Still nothing. Unbelievable.
Nancy finally intervened, helping Jimmy to his feet. I gave Mark an equal hand so he didn’t have to sit there. At best, he probably would have needed a gatekeeper from preventing him from throwing another punch. Jimmy could hold his own, but he was still much older than Mark. Another punch would have escalated an already tricky situation.
"Whatever it was, I'm sure it was uncalled for on one side," Nancy said, eyeing Mark up and down. "The violence around here sure is telling."
"Oh don't pull that card, Nancy. We're all hurting from what happened," Mark snapped.
"Why were you two fighting anyway?" I asked both the men again. The silence was deafening. Jimmy began to walk backwards as if to escape the confrontation.
"Really? Now we can't even use words to solve this?" I put myself between the two of them, watching Jimmy more closely as he backed away. "Somebody say something. This isn't going to fix itself. Whatever it is."
"Why don't you mind your own business, Shelby? You seem to be getting into other people's situations quite a bit these days," Nancy exclaimed. She turned her attention to Jimmy, "Dear, you should probably go get yourself cleaned up."
"Well if a fight breaks out Nancy, someone should probably do something about it." I stood squarely opposite her, hands on my hips, giving the most determined stare I could muster up. Wow,…I was on fire. Nancy wasn’t going to dampen the flames if I could help it.
Jimmy brushed the dirt off his pants and nodded. He could barely address Nancy for whatever reason. The one time I could’ve used a ghostly witness would’ve been right now. Surely, my ghostly friends would have heard something before I arrived on the scene.
"Nice to see one of you has respect in your relationship," Mark muttered.
I turned my head sharply to look at him. What did that mean? Mark shot me a look back that insinuated now was not the time to take things further. He knew something. Jimmy knew something. I had more work cut out for me than I realized.
"Ask her!" I heard Jenny mutter behind me. The preserves. Right.
"Where were you when Jenny was murdered, Nancy?" I asked. Oh no…so much for being subtle. I could almost hear the silent forehead smack Jenny made as she watched my big fail.
Nancy's head turned slowly. Like a viper ready to strike.
"If you're really trying to play detective, you're obviously barking up the wrong tree. I mean would your first guess not be Annabelle?"
"She doesn't seem like she'd be at fault. Did you see the way she reacted having to take over baking and cooking by herself?"
"Annabelle? But ...why?"
I turned briefly to see Jenny pondering this one hard. It was difficult to picture anybody I worked with having killed Jenny and this one seemed out of the question. You always want to think the best of people, but as much as I detested Nancy, her point was fair.
"Only a theory a smart person would think of," she said. I watched Nancy take hold of Jimmy's shoulders, guiding him off down the path without addressing me again.
"Give it some more thought, Shelby. Nancy seems bitter," Jenny said. I could feel a cold chill spread out along my shoulder as Jenny's hand touched it out of support.
"It's a tough game now, Jenny. We keep finding reasons as to why we aren't having success and it's not making our situation easier."
"I just...you know when you know right? I'm a ghost now. Matthias was right. I feel like I sense things...better. Give it some more thought about Annabelle."
I turned back the other way to see Mark heading down the path. He’d made quite a distance already and I had a lot of work to do, what with this freaking dress and all.
"Mark!"
He ignored me. I ran to chase up with him. Jenny sped ahead of me. The one thing that always seemed incredibly appealing about the afterlife was the increased speed you had access to. No gravity hiccup there. I guess when released from your earthly body, anything is truly possible.
I finally caught up with him. Mark seemed reluctant to talk again after I’d cornered him before. I could tell that little fist altercation made him upset.
"Okay, we're alone. What happened?" I asked.
"Nancy's kind of right. You’re snooping around quite a bit these days," he said. His tone was not as snippy as the other accusations had been, more joking, but I wasn't prepared or interested in dealing with quips.
"Seriously Mark, what happened? There's never been so much unexpected violence in the span of the weekend. I’ve worked here a year and not once did a fight ever break out, let alone a murder."
Mark stopped and looked down at his feet.
"Jimmy says things...and I wonder how he still has a wife. Some things were tame, but I have to wonder what his deal with Eliana is. Plus he likes his job and things always seemed fine with him and Annabelle. You just..."
Mark was talking, but none of it made sense. It was as if he had to say his words aloud to figure out what it meant for himself, but his voice trailed off. It seemed he had no idea how to continue his own sentence. I wasn't sure what he was getting at.
"Were you trying to defend someone?" I asked.
His cheeks flushed a deep red again. That was my answer. Given how I knew some males to react upon such instances, the fight made sense, as childish as it was. I had to wonder why he felt the need to do that and whom exactly it was for.
"Can't totally trust a politician, Shelby," he said with a laugh. "You're young, but you should know that now. I really should get going. Got to go clean the firearms."
Jenny stood next to me again, watching him head down the path. There was likely another layer to the reason why Jenny was murdered and someone was hiding something.
"He's defending Annabelle," she said. "I think with good reason."
"Really? Would he cover up something for her?" I asked.
"No. I think this one's different. We need to do a bit more investigating."
I had a demonstration to tend to soon. Any more inquisitions would have to wait until after my break.
Chapter Seven
After eating a meal, I strolled down the battlefield which lead back to my post with Phineas and Jessamine following. There wasn’t much left to do but prepare for the carding demonstration. I first used carding tools in the third grade for a pioneer project and had way too much fun with them. It was a clearly only a sign of things to come. The day could have only picked up from there. One-hour left then I could pack up for the day.
Jenny had briefly disappeared on me, but I think she could sense I needed a bit of a break dealing with numerous different thoughts at once. Despite the earlier physical altercation I was caught between, my day was going rather smooth and I was thankful for that.
"Say Miss Shelby, who's that going into your mill?" Phineas asked.
I looked over towards the door and could make out a figure underneath the outdoor awning over the door, but the shade had cast a shadow to hide the person’s face. She was wearing a skirt so it was evident it was a woman. She dipped inside the front door quickly and I assumed to hide. We continued onward across the grass, despite me being unsure of what was happening. When we reached the door, Jessamine and Phineas decided to stall my advances.
"Shouldn't you be careful Miss Shelby? A murderer still walks among us," Phineas said.
"Yeah we like you, but you don't need to join us so soon," Jessamine added.
"Don't be silly. This could end up being a complete misunderstanding."
I didn’t bother being careful regarding the trespasser. I entered the mill confidently through the front door, opening it without hesitation. It creaked open loudly.
"Are you going to ask who it is?" Jessamine asked.
I ignored Jessamine. Someone was in there, but it was peculiar as to why. I walked through the hall that connected to the various rooms. With each step, the floor had grown louder in creakiness. If someone were to move, there was simply no way of hiding around here.
"In the storage room."
A voice I hadn’t recognized called out. Through the bathroom door, out jumped a much older woman with a fantastic updo of curls piled high on her head. She looked at me eagerly with her tiny eyes pointing with her spindly fingers ahead of me.
"Gladys! Who is it?" Jessamine asked.
"In the storage room," she repeated with a chuckle.
The new spirit's story I would have to figure out later. I passed her by in the hall, choosing to follow her instructions with my ghost team at hand. I tried my best to tip toe into the storage room. A loud crash rang out. I turned to see behind me that Phineas had somehow managed to knock a picture off the wall. His guilty face could not help but fade into a laugh, which Jessamine joined in. The frame had cracked in half, with broken glass spilled all over the floor. Way to go ghost! You blew our cover real fast. The sound was enough for the trespasser to let out a surprised yelp.
I made my way closer and saw in the doorframe a woman going through my blanket, linens and wool collection. When she turned around, I realized it was Nancy. I couldn’t understand why she would come here.
"Hi... Nancy, what can I do you for?" I asked.
She looked around confused, dropping a blanket of wool on the floor.
"What was that loud noise?" she asked.
"Picture fell. Old nail. What's up?"
"I...I needed something to help clean material and I was wondering..."
"If I had something? You're looking in the wrong place for that. You should have just asked me directly and I would’ve helped. My cleaning tools are at the bottom here."
I bent down to retrieve a large crate near Nancy's feet under a shelf. I opened it and looked up at her. Here I had offered her help and she didn’t want to give me the time of day. Her eye daggers shot at me once again as if I’d insulted her. Nancy was so strange sometimes. I gave up.
"No, no, that's fine. I'll make due," she said.
She hurried out of the room, darted right through Jessamine and Phineas who watched in the hall and disappeared out of sight to avoid any further conversation. I could hear her slam the front door on her way out. I wished she hadn’t done that. The door was beyond rickety on a good day.
"Well that was weird," I said aloud. I put the box back underneath the shelf
.
"Not as weird as the people who linger around here."
The voice of the new spirit spoke again. She was standing with Jessamine and Phineas. They all seemed to know each other quite well.
"I'm sorry, but who are you?" I asked.
"Gladys Simmons. I had to stop in here for a little piece and quiet. All these tourists can be so noisy sometimes, especially the little brats!" she exclaimed. "Plus I was on a search for something."
"What were you looking for?"
"Oh nothing important." The way she was snooping, I didn’t believe her for a second.
A Wicked Whack: Mad River Series (Prequel) Page 4
