The young man gave a hard tug and she went flying behind him, peppermint mocha spewing forth. Her last words were lost in the gasp that ran through the café. And then everyone was talking at once, shocked. People didn’t usually suggest murder at broadcast volume over coffee in this nice little beach town.
The woman and her keeper disappeared, but as I looked around, my gaze connected with Detective Roy McKnight’s silver blue eyes and I gave a start. I hadn’t seen him since the day about a week ago when they’d wrapped up the case of the murders of my aunt Bebe’s neighbor and his son. I’d been wondering what the handsome detective had been up to lately and I started to smile at him.
But there was something in his eyes that told me he wasn’t as happy to see me as I was to see him, and my smile faded. He started toward us, but I could see he was reluctant. I looked at Jill. She’d seen him, too, and she raised an eyebrow.
“Now that’s the kind of protection you ought to take advantage of,” she told me in a loud whisper.
I could feel my face redden and I wished she could learn to keep her opinions to herself. I had a feeling Detective McKnight wasn’t in a protective mood today.
“Ladies,” he said, nodding in greeting to us both. “You having a problem with Ned Barlow?” he asked me.
“Not really,” I said quickly. “I can handle it.”
“Yes, really,” Jill intervened. “It’s this new job she’s got working for the town council.”
“Activities Director?” he said, still looking at me, probably not sure if I was the same happy-go-lucky girl he’d known before, what with the grownup business suit and all.
“Hard to believe, huh?” I muttered a bit defensively, poking at my official orchid.
But Jill seemed to think the conversation was mainly between him and her.
“It’s temporary. Just for the Winter Session. That’s because Lois Green quit at the last minute and they needed a quick replacement.”
Roy shrugged. “Sounds good,” he said, his gaze drifting toward the door.
“No, listen,” Jill went on. “There’s a rub—like, a total rub. Lois quit because she couldn’t deal with Ned, and now Mele has to convince him to drop his lawsuit trying to stop the Christmas Pageant in Victorian Village.” She threw up her hands. “And the gentleman seems to take poorly to argument. She’s got her hands full and she’s hesitating about going out there to face him again.”
He nodded absently, glancing down at my orchid corsage. One eyebrow rose. “Phalaenopsis,” he muttered, then winced and added, “Uh…Okay. Good luck.” He was starting to go, but he hesitated, as though he realized he wasn’t being very friendly. “Uh…if he gives you a lot of trouble, give me a call,” he said, looking at me sideways. “I can always take a run out there and see if I can calm him down.”
I shook my head, getting truly steamed. First Jill acted like she was trying to thrust me at him, then he acted like he didn’t have time for me. Where was the super interested guy I’d known a week ago? Gone-that was obvious. This was getting to be a pattern in my life.
“Hey, don’t give it another thought,” I said, trying to sound breezy as I gathered my things for my own getaway. “I’ve got it under control.”
He nodded. “Good. See you around.” And he was gone.
I looked at Jill. Her mouth was hanging open. So it wasn’t just me thinking things had changed drastically. Ouch. No matter what, no matter why, it hurt.
“Okay, sweetie, I’m going to head on out and beard the lion in his den,” I said, standing up like the brave little trooper I wanted to be.
Jill screwed up her face, not understanding. “You’re going to pretend to be his girlfriend?”
I blinked. Now I didn’t understand. “Huh?”
“A beard,” she said, looking bewildered. “For a lion that doesn’t like girl lions?”
“Lionesses? Wait…what?”
She shook her head and threw out her hands, palms up. “I’m totally lost.”
I sighed. She was an educated girl, but sometimes my haole idioms flew over her head.
“Never mind. I’m going to see Ned Barlow, but I’ve got a few errands to run first. I’ll be out there at the man’s house by noon. Then I’ll drop by later and let you know how it went.”
Jill rose quickly and gave me a hug. “Honey,” she started, obviously thinking back to the way Roy McKnight had treated me, but finally she just shook her head, looking sorry.
I gave her a wide smile and a jaunty wave. “No troubles, Jill. Everything’s cool.” And I headed out to my little car.
I’d barely turned out of the parking lot and turned onto the road before I realized Dante was sitting in the passenger’s seat. I glanced over at him. He was staring straight ahead and looking very real.
I guess I’d better explain Dante to any newcomers to my world. He seems to be my own private ghost. I saw him off and on in my teenage years when I lived in Hawaii. I had an adorable Hawaiian grandmother who mostly lived in the spirit world and got me poking around in it too, at least for as long as I stayed with her. My mother died when I was young, and my father was not exactly a hands-on parent. Thus, in my loneliness, I had Dante—part Hawaiian, just like I was, and more handsome than any boy in school. Was he a figment of my adolescent uncertainties? Could be. I didn’t care--he was mine.
But I grew up and headed to California for college, and childish things were left behind. It had only been recently that he’d been showing up again. Why, I couldn’t tell you. He doesn’t talk much, but he did save my life a week or so ago. So if he wants to come along on a car ride, it’s okay with me.
“Hey Dante,” I said aloud.
He seemed to stretch, but he didn’t look at me. He was dressed in jeans and a white tee-shirt, looking very James Dean-ish, but I was pretty sure that if I reached out, my hand would go right through him. Still, having him along was sort of comforting right now. Maybe I was more nervous about this meeting I was going to than I’d realized.
Ned Barlow. Ugh. The man was straight up yucky. It had only taken a few minutes with him to understand why Lois Green had quit rather than go up against him again. He wasn’t one to play fair. A nasty piece of work, that. A namecaller, too. Probably a peeping Tom. And a litterer. And the sort of person who wrote YouTube comments. I shuddered. But I was going to have to learn to let those things roll off my back, wasn’t I?
The centerpiece of my job for the Winter Session was to manage the Christmas Pageant held every year in Victorian Village. Destiny Bay proper had its festival of Lights on the Water, when everyone who had a boat decorated it and sailed back and forth around the bay. Little North Destiny Bay had Victorian Village, a two-block section of Bay Street lined with Victorian-style houses all decorated for Christmas for the month of December.
The pageant itself ran from December 18 to Christmas Eve and everyone who lived in the village was involved in special decorations and role-playing in skits and tableaus as visitors stopped to watch while walking the length of the display.
It was an ambitious festival for such a small town and our main tourist-attracting event of the year. And now it was my responsibility to make sure it came off without a hitch.
That would have been daunting enough, but when you threw a lawsuit threat from Ned Barlow into the mix, it began to take on the qualities of a Freddie Krueger nightmare. In a nutshell, Ned wanted to stop the pageant, cancel it, obliterate it, and make sure it never lifted its ugly head again.
Why? Nobody knew for sure. He spouted all sorts of environmental impact excuses, saying the lights at night in winter disrupted the mating habits of the California Thrasher—which sounds like a low-budget horror movie. California could do with less thrashing if you ask me. But those things really didn’t fly. Still, he was passionate about his opposition and he had the potential of tying things up in the courts for years.
Could I convince him to back off?
Hah! It wasn’t likely. But I had to try. After all, I had a j
ob. And an orchid.
I stopped at the bank, and then the post office. I had some things to mail to Nolan, my ex-boyfriend. We’d had a pretty rough split and I just wanted to give him back anything I still had that might have given him an excuse to drop by.
So it was almost noon as I drove up to Ned’s spooky house. Though still considered in North Destiny Bay, the house was situated almost a mile out of town, up on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, and I approached with a feeling of dread. Who knew what new tactics in bully handling I was going to have to learn to use on him?
“Too bad I never finished that course in Krav Maga,” I said chattily to Dante who was still hanging with me, giving me company in a way I’d never expected a ghost to do before. “I could use the back up comfort of knowing I had a few smooth defensive moves in my back pocket.”
Dante didn’t offer an opinion. I sighed. Maybe one day I’d be able to get an actual conversation going with the man/ghost. Maybe. But right now, I had to depend on my own wits to get me through this.
My comfort level with the situation didn’t get better as I walked up the path to the front door. I noticed there were no cars in the parking area to the side of the driveway. That meant there was no housekeeper, no cook, no gardener here today.
“Nobody there to hear you scream!”
That was my first, irrational thought on the matter. Then I gave myself a quick snarl of contempt.
“Don’t be a baby!”
This was a real life job and it was time to be an adult. I squared my shoulders and shot a look back at Dante for moral support. Okay then. I was ready.
A seagull shrieked into the air above the entryway, making me jump. Something eerie I couldn’t identify called from the forest behind the house. I looked in that direction and I thought I saw a flash of something red. But I looked again and it was gone.
Maybe a woodpecker? Maybe nothing. I probably imagined it.
Meanwhile, out over the ocean, fog was rolling in. I did a little deep breathing, trying to calm down as I went energetically up the wide stone steps, cursing the high heels that I wished I’d changed before coming out there.
And then I got to the front door and found it wide open, standing there, not moving. There was no sound coming from inside the house—no radio playing, no television filled with happy talk, no opera on the stereo. Not even a curse or two from his nasty parrot. Nothing but the sound of the surf against the cliffs, and a seagull’s cry here and there in the distance.
I looked back at the car, wishing Dante had come with me to the door. From this distance, I couldn’t even tell if he was still there. Maybe I really was on my own.
Oh well. C’est la vie.
Chapter Two
I looked in at what I could see from the doorway. Persian rugs. Tall windows. An entry table that seemed to hold a pile of mail. A long, winding stairway to the second floor. Paintings of ancestors on the walls. All things that had been there when I’d come out before, but I’d been too petrified by the man himself to really notice them.
Leaning in through the doorway, I called, “Hello? Mr. Barlow? Anybody home?”
No one answered. Not a sound changed. The only thing I could hear now was the thumping of my heart in my chest.
This was so not comfortable. Should I just walk in? And maybe catch the man walking around in his underwear or something? No. I didn’t like the thought of that picture. Was I going to have to go back to the council and tell them I’d chickened out?
Arrgghh! No way. I gave myself another boost of courage and stuck with it.
“Mr. Barlow?” I called again. My voice seemed to echo through his halls.
And suddenly—movement! A large, silver cat came dashing down the central stairway and swept out right past me, down onto the driveway.
“Meow!” it said, turning to look at me. “Meow!”
“Hi Kitty,” I said. I thought quickly. I had met this cat during my first visit to Ned Barlow, where he yelled a lot and I didn’t have time to take in much of the scenery. But I did remember this one.
“Hi Silver,” I said, recalling the cat’s name at last. Looking at the beautiful animal, it wasn’t that tough. “What’s wrong? Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Meow!” Silver took off down the driveway, heading for the cliff side over the ocean.
I hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. What the heck. I might as well see what Silver could tell me. My experience with cats was usually pretty good. They liked me and I liked them. My Aunt Bebe-who I was staying with- had a big black cat named Sami and we were great pals. So off I went, following a cat.
He circled back and rubbed against my ankles, then dashed off again. I followed—a bit wobbly on my heels, but game. What else was I going to do?
Mr. Barlow had done one thing right—he’d had a patio built at the edge of the cliff, a wide, flagstone-lined expanse that jutted out over the edge, giving a wonderful view of the surf below, crashing on the rocks, sending huge sprays of sea water surging up the face of the cliff. It was a spectacular view and I lingered, pulling my suit coat in against the cool breezes, staring out at the sea and thinking of eighteenth century galleons sailing past, sails full of ocean wind. A strong, handsome captain, nimble sailors hanging from the ropes, pirates, brigands and pieces of eight and a captured maiden dressed in a satin gown. All that stuff that romantic historical novels were filled with. I sighed.
But the cat was still crying, jumping up to run along the edge of the railing on a very precarious path, rubbing against the risers.
“What is it, kitty?” I asked him.
His answer was piteous and distressed, as though I just wasn’t listening. I got on my knees on the seat that ran around the perimeter and leaned out over the ocean, looking down.
And then, I saw it.
“Oh no.” I gasped, pulling back as though I could erase what I’d seen if I didn’t acknowledge it. But I knew very well that wasn’t going to work. What I’d seen was the owner of this property lying at the base of the cliff, stretched out over the jagged black rocks. I leaned out again, looking harder. Yes, it was Ned Barlow and he looked very, very dead. I reached for my cell phone but my hands were shaking so hard, I couldn’t operate it at first.
“Come on, come on,” I muttered as I worked at it.
Silver had stopped meowing. His task accomplished, he needed a break and took some time for a bit of a bath. I watched him seriously begin to attack the fur on his back leg as I waited for my 911 call to go through.
“Hello. Yes.” I gave them the address and told them what I’d seen. “Yes, it’s Ned Barlow’s home. I…I’m afraid it might be Ned Barlow on the rocks.”
I winced as I realized how that sounded, but it was too late to retract it now.
“Yes, please hurry.”
I closed my eyes and waited. It seemed like forever before I heard the sirens coming my way, and then I rose and walked toward the parking area to meet them. I knew what was coming next. I’d just gone through it before with a body in my aunt’s front yard.
“Here we go again,” I murmured to myself. And then I turned to greet the first car.
“I can’t believe you’ve gotten yourself involved in another …incident.”
My aunt Bebe was apoplectic. I was hanging out at her house until I got together enough money to get a place of my own. In fact, she was the one who’d wrangled the job for me. As a local businesswoman, she had contacts in town government places. Lucky for me.
“What are people going to think? You’re going to get a reputation. They’re going to avoid going to places where you’re seen, just in case you have murder on your mind. They’re going to begin crossing the street when they catch sight of you. A harbinger of doom!”
“You’re the one who got me this job,” I said back, being just as wildly illogical as she was. “I can’t help it if people in this town tend to keel over when they see me coming.”
Bebe glared at me, then sighed, her shoulde
rs sagging, and we both calmed down. I knew I should give her some room and a bit of understanding. Her relationship with Mark, a local high school teacher who used one of her warehouses for projects by the 4H kids he was advising, was stumbling a little from what I could see—and she was definitely upset about it.
I had nothing but sympathy for her. I knew how it felt.
“At least you got a cat out of the deal,” she grumbled, sounding sarcastic. “Just what Sami always wanted. A live-in pal.”
I looked over at the patch of floor Silver had taken over for himself. He blinked at me, his baby blue eyes shining. I couldn’t help it—I did like that cat-even if he did put Sami’s nose out of joint.
“I couldn’t leave him there with all the forensics going on and all. Nobody else stepped forward, so I did.” I gave her a half-hearted smile. “Just be glad I didn’t volunteer to take the parrot as a bonus.”
Bebe frowned, leaning toward me and searching my eyes. “Mele, I’m sorry. I haven’t thought about what you’ve been going through today. Really honey…” She reached out and squeezed my hand. “Are you okay? What did they ask you? Was your handsome detective there?”
That gave me a quiver. “The man isn’t ‘mine’ in the first place. And in the second, he’s cold as ice these days. I don’t know what I did to turn him off, but he’s definitely not interested any longer.”
“Oh.” She made a face. “That’s too bad. I thought he was really cute.”
“Me too. Kind of. Cute is as cute does, though,” I said, downgrading the detective in my mind. “Oh well.” I frowned, thinking of what he’d said about my corsage. I’d thought it odd at the time. Maybe Bebe could clear it up. “So what do you call this orchid?” I asked her, pointing to it.
She glanced at it. “Uh…that’s a Phalaenopsis. Why?”
I bit my lip. “Because Detective McKnight named it when he saw it. Seems like a funny thing for a man like that to know, doesn’t it?”
A Ghost for Christmas (Destiny Bay Cozy Mysteries Book 1) Page 11
