Gossamer Ghost

by Laura Childs

  Fast as a snapping turtle, Carmela whipped around, tore off her stiff white shroud and snapped it at Ricky. The stiff, hardened material caught him across the forehead and, as he batted it, like an unsuspecting bug suddenly trapped in a spider’s web, Carmela spun sideways and quickly wound it around him. Then Ava got into the act, too, hastily ripping off her shroud and wrapping Ricky up completely, as if they were circling a maypole.

  Then, as the train slowed slightly to round a curve, Carmela planted her foot directly against Ricky’s backside and gave a mighty shove. Flailing and helpless, Ricky went tumbling onto the tracks as Mavis continued to shriek at the top of her lungs.

  “Waaaah!” was all they heard from Ricky as the train chugged away.

  “Ouch!” said Ava, scrunching up her face. “That looks like it might have hurt.”

  “I sincerely hope so,” said Carmela. She spun Mavis around and shoved her back inside the train. “You shut up,” she ordered. And to Ava, “Better hang on tight. This isn’t going to be pretty.” Then Carmela reached up and yanked the emergency cord as hard as she could. The smile hardened on her face as she braced herself with all her might. Beneath them, the train shuddered dangerously. The antique cars rocked and careened from side to side as their wheels locked tight and the entire Ghost Train ground to a screeching halt.

  “JUST think,” Ava beamed at Carmela. “You have the power to stop a train.”

  “Excuse me,” said Jekyl. He was standing nose to nose with Carmela, wildly flailing his arms. “Did you really need to rip on that emergency brake? Was it necessary to bring the entire train to a screeching halt?”

  They were standing in a narrow patch of weeds next to the waiting, belching train. Carmela had made her call to Babcock, while Ava was happily pointing the gun at a cowed and greatly subdued Mavis Sweet.

  A terrible situation had been defused and a pair of killers had finally been apprehended. But Jekyl remained upset.

  “You couldn’t have resolved this problem any other way?” Jekyl asked. “I mean, stopping the Ghost Train is a disaster of epic proportions! What if all our customers demand refunds?”

  “Are you insane?” Carmela shouted back at him, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. “For the great show we just put on? Turn around and take a look, Jekyl. And while you’re at it, wave to all the nice people on the train who are hanging out the windows—because they’re waving at us!”

  Carmela gestured toward the halted train, where everyone really was hanging out the windows. Smiling faces looked on with laughter and encouragement, and there were shouts of “More, more!” and plenty of applause. Clearly, all the passengers had enjoyed the rather unorthodox “show” that they’d just witnessed.

  Then Babcock arrived in a blast of sirens and blaze of red and blue lights.

  “Uh-oh,” said Ava, “you’re gonna have some ’splaining to do, Lucy.”

  But Mavis, still smeared with fake blood, was promptly put into handcuffs. And Babcock kept his words and temper in check as Carmela laid out the entire story for him. At one point he even held up a hand and demanded that Titus Duval be brought out to join them.

  When everything was explained and unraveled—and Carmela had made a formal apology to Duval—the episode appeared to be over.

  Except for one thing.

  “Who is that jackhole, anyway?” Carmela asked as a uniformed officer marched a limping, trembling Ricky toward them. She was happy to note that his green alien costume was shredded beyond repair and he sported a couple of enormous red welts on his forehead.

  “That sorry sight is Ricky Bumgard,” said Babcock, recognizing him immediately. “He’s a known thief and sometime arsonist. Needless to say, he’s got quite a record.” Babcock threw Ricky a nasty smile. “From everything I’ve heard tonight, it looks like we can add murder, too. Am I right, Ricky? Did you overstep your smarts and get a little too greedy, Ricky?”

  Thankfully, Ricky was still too shaken to muster an answer.

  “Ricky, the green alien,” Ava said in a challenging voice. “Now he’ll have to trade his green costume for an orange jumpsuit. Then he’ll be Ricky the jailbird.”

  “Uhrrhmm,” said Ricky, shaking his head.

  “So where is the death mask?” asked Titus Duval.

  “I’m guessing it’s probably stashed at Mavis’s house,” said Carmela. “She probably tucked it away all nice and neat until she had a chance to sell it.”

  “You’d have to sell it on the black market,” said Jekyl. He pursed his lips. “Although underground art sales seem to be flourishing these days.”

  “That’s why I was so suspicious of James Stanger,” said Carmela. “And Johnny Sparks.”

  “They may be clear of this,” said Babcock. “But if they are guilty of art fraud we’ll get them eventually.”

  “And I’m still not sure if the countess is on the up-and-up,” said Carmela.

  “She’ll be right next door to you,” Babcock smiled. “So you can keep an eye on her.”

  “If you ask me,” said Ava, “that death mask is bad luck. Bad juju.”

  Babcock gazed mildly at Ava. “You’re imagining things. A simple object can’t possess the powers of good or evil.”

  “Sure it can,” said Ava. “Look at the curse of King Tut’s tomb. Or the Hope Diamond. Those things carry well-known curses!”

  “Excuse me,” said Titus Duval. He looked thoughtful and very interested in their conversation. “Is there any possibility that stolen mask might be for sale?”

  “No!” Carmela and Ava cried together.

  “We need to return the mask to its rightful owner,” said Carmela. She gazed at Babcock. “And the sooner the better—don’t you think?”

  “Absolutely,” said Babcock. “It’s the law.” He pulled Carmela closer to him and beamed at her. Then, throwing caution to the wind, Babcock leaned forward, dipped Carmela over backward, and gave her the kind of kiss that definitely made for a Hollywood ending.

  Once again, the passengers on the train clapped and cheered loudly. Their evening, crazy as it had been, had enjoyed a perfect ending. Besides riding the Ghost Train, they’d witnessed a wild chase, apprehension of a dangerous criminal, and an old-fashioned romantic ending.

  Smiling, a little embarrassed at all the fuss, Carmela regained her footing and gave Babcock a subtle nudge. “We should take the mask back to Dallas as soon as possible. Deliver it in person to that poor man, Mr. Pitney.”

  “Oh no,” Babcock laughed. “You’re not roping me into going.”

  Carmela turned toward Ava and said, “How about you, girlfriend?”

  Ava grinned happily. “Road trip!”

  Scrapbook, Stamping, and Craft Tips from Laura Childs

  Scrap Your Scraps

  If you have scraps of paper left over (and who doesn’t?) you can turn them into bookmarks. Trim and layer your leftovers on top of each other in fun combinations, then punch a hole and thread in some ribbon or raffia. Just be sure to finish both sides!

  Got Game?

  If you have tokens, poker chips, or small pieces from old board games (Monopoly or Scrabble, anyone?) they can be reworked in lots of different ways. Drill your Scrabble letters and use jump rings to create a necklace. Or drill a poker chip to use as a key fob. Most of the jewelry findings you need can be found at your local craft store.

  Wine Labels

  You can make your own wine labels the same way Carmela does. Measure your wine bottle and create a label template. Then get creative with rubber stamps, transfer letters, stickers, and ephemera. When your label design is finished, simply color copy for however many bottles you want to decorate. Vampire Wine, Christmas Cabernet, or Valentine Blush Wine, anyone?

  Design Your Own Guest Towels

  Use your favorite rubber stamps to create your own unique guest towels. Just paint your rubbe
r stamps with fabric ink and stamp carefully—you can use one signature stamp or create an entire border. Because you’re stamping on terry cloth, the image is likely to be a little fuzzy, so keep that in mind when selecting your rubber stamp.

  Collage Backgrounds

  Create unique backgrounds on your scrapbook pages by using strips of leftover paper that are all in the same color or design family. The strips need to be as wide as your page and torn so they are 2"–3" high—and distressed edges always work best. Glue your strips onto your scrapbook page, add a glaze layer to preserve them, then go ahead and add your photos.

  The Sweet Smell of Sachets

  Create sachets the way Carmela did, using cheesecloth tied with ribbon. Or you can even use fabric bits that you have on hand. Cut 2 squares, about 5" x 5", using a pinking shears. Seal them on three sides using fusible bonding tape such as Stitch Witchery. Fill your sachet with dried lavender, dried rosebuds, eucalyptus, or even your favorite spice. Now simply fuse the remaining edge.

  Favorite New Orleans Recipes

  Down-Home Chicken Corn Casserole

  ⅓ cup butter

  ⅓ cup flour

  ½ tsp. salt

  ¼ tsp. black pepper

  2 cups milk

  2 cups cooked chicken, cut up

  1 (11-oz.) can whole kernel corn, drained

  ⅓ cup bread crumbs

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Melt butter over low heat, then stir in flour, salt, and pepper. Cook until smooth and bubbly. Remove from heat and gradually stir in milk. Then cook to boiling point and let boil for 1 minute. Stir in chicken pieces and corn. Pour into a greased 1½-quart casserole dish. Top with bread crumbs and a few dots of butter. Bake for 30 minutes. Serves 6.

  Super Simple Seafood Bisque

  2 (10-oz.) cans potato soup

  1 cup milk

  ½ cup cream

  2 Tbsp. butter

  1 (5-oz.) can shrimp, drained and rinsed

  1 (5-oz.) can crabmeat, drained and rinsed

  Heat potato soup, milk, cream, and butter together. Add in shrimp and crabmeat. Stir, season to taste, and serve. Serves 4.

  No-Bake Peanut Butter and Cornflake Bars

  ½ cup sugar

  ½ cup corn syrup

  1 cup peanut butter

  5 cups cornflakes

  Heat sugar and syrup together until sugar dissolves. Add peanut butter and mix well. Gently stir in cornflakes until mixed. Press mixture into a 9-by-13-inch baking pan. Cut into squares using a buttered knife while still warm. Cool until firm. Eat!

  Carmela’s Crazy Dump Cake

  2 (21-oz.) cans blueberry pie filling

  2 (20-oz.) cans crushed pineapple, about ¾ drained

  ½ cup sugar

  1 Tbsp. cinnamon

  1 box yellow cake mix

  6 Tbsp. butter

  Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Pour blueberry pie filling into 9-by-13-inch dish. Pour crushed pineapple over blueberries. Mix sugar and cinnamon together and sprinkle on top of pineapple layer. Pour dry cake mix on top, breaking up any lumps. Melt butter and drizzle on top. Bake for approximately 40 to 45 minutes. Top should be bubbly and golden brown.

  Southern Shrimp and Black Beans

  8 Tbsp. butter

  juice of 2 limes

  1 tsp. garlic salt

  1½ lbs. raw shrimp

  1 Tbsp. hot sauce

  1 (15-oz.) can black beans, drained

  Melt butter in frying pan, add in lime juice and garlic salt. Add shrimp and sauté quickly until cooked. Add in hot sauce and black beans, then stir. Serve over cooked rice or in pita bread pockets. Serves 4.

  Baked Pork Chops in Creamed Corn

  4 pork chops

  2 Tbsp. oil

  1 can creamed corn

  ½ onion, chopped

  ¼ cup milk

  salt and pepper

  Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Brown pork chops in oil, then place in baking dish. Mix together creamed corn, chopped onion, milk, salt, and pepper. Pour over pork chops and bake for about 2 hours or until fork-tender. Serves 4.

  Party Shrimp Dip

  1 3-oz. pkg. cream cheese, softened

  ¼ cup chili sauce

  1 tsp. grated horseradish (or prepared)

  1 tsp. lemon juice

  ¼ tsp. garlic powder

  1 (5-oz.) can shrimp, diced

  Mix all ingredients together, adding shrimp last. Chill for about 2 hours, and then serve with crackers or chips.

  Baked Porcupines

  1 lb. ground beef

  ½ cup uncooked rice

  ½ cup water

  ⅓ cup chopped onions

  1 tsp. salt

  ⅛ tsp. garlic salt

  ⅛ tsp. pepper

  1 (15-oz.) can tomato sauce

  1 cup water

  2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce

  Heat oven to 350 degrees. Mix ground beef, rice, ½ cup water, onion, salt, garlic salt, and pepper together. Using a large spoon, take scoops from mixture and shape into round balls. Place balls in ungreased baking dish. Stir together tomato sauce, 1 cup water, and Worcestershire sauce and pour over porcupines. Cover with foil and bake for 45 minutes. Remove foil and bake for an additional 10 minutes. Serves 4 to 6.

  Southern Spoon Bread

  2 cups water

  1 cup cornmeal

  1 cup milk

  2 eggs

  1 Tbsp. melted butter

  2 tsp. salt

  Mix water and cornmeal in pan. Heat to boiling point and cook for 5 minutes. Beat eggs well, adding in butter, salt, and milk. Add egg mixture to cornmeal mixture. Beat well and bake in a well-greased pan for approximately 25 minutes.

  New Orleans–Style Beignets

  ½ cup water

  ¼ cup butter

  ½ cup flour, sifted

  2 eggs

  1 tsp. vanilla

  oil for frying

  powdered sugar

  Heat water and butter in large saucepan until water boils and butter is melted. Add flour all at once and stir until mixture forms a soft ball of dough in center of pan. Remove from heat and let stand 5 minutes. Add 1 egg to dough and beat well. Add second egg and vanilla and beat well again. Drop medium-sized spoonfuls of dough into about 1 inch of hot oil. Brown on both sides. Drain on paper towels and sprinkle generously with powdered sugar. Makes about 18 beignets.

  Carmela’s Homemade Cajun Seasoning

  2½ Tbsp. salt

  1 Tbsp. dried oregano, crushed to a fine powder

  1 Tbsp. paprika

  1 Tbsp. cayenne pepper

  1 Tbsp. black pepper, fresh ground is best

  Combine all ingredients, and then use mixture to spice up your meat and poultry!

  Turn the page for a preview of Laura Childs’s next Cackleberry Club Mystery . . .

  Scorched Eggs

  Coming December 2014 in hardcover from Berkley Prime Crime!

  SUZANNE didn’t know how she felt about Blond Bombshell No. 4 as a hair color, but she was about to find out. Especially since she was sprawled in a red plastic chair roughly the size of a Tilt-a-Whirl car, bravely enduring her “beauty experience” at Root 66, downtown Kindred’s premier hair salon. Silver foils that looked like baked-potato wrappers were crimped in her hair, while a sparkly pink ’50s-era bubble-top hair dryer hovered above her head, blasting a constant stream of hot air.

  Yup, the foils were bad enough, but the droning dryer made Suzanne feel as if her head were being sucked into a jet engine.

  Jiggling her foot, tapping her fingers, Suzanne knew she should try to regard this as “me time,” as so many women’s magazines advocated.

  But, all cards on the table, Suzanne felt restless and a little guilty about duck
ing out of the Cackleberry Club, the cozy little café she ran with her two partners, Toni and Petra. She’d dashed away this Friday afternoon claiming a dire personal emergency. And when you were a silvered blonde who was a tad over forty, the emergence of dark, scuzzy roots all over your head definitely qualified as an emergency.

  But now, after all the rigmarole of mixing and tinting and crimping and blow-drying, Suzanne just dreamed of sweet escape.

  She glanced around at the five other women, customers in the salon, who seemed perfectly content to sit and be beautified. But scrunched here, paging through an old copy of Star Whacker magazine and reading about the questionable exploits of Justin and Miley, didn’t seem like the most productive way to spend an afternoon.

  “How you doin’, gorgeous?” cooed Brett. He bent down and flashed his trademark pussycat grin. Brett was her stylist and co-owner of Root 66. A man who wore his hair bleached, spiked, and gelled. “Are you in need of a little more pampering? Should I send Krista over to do a French manicure?” He cast a slightly disapproving glance at Suzanne’s blunt-cut nails.

  “No thanks, I’m fine,” Suzanne told him as she balled her hands into tight fists. What she wanted to tell Brett was that she had working-girl hands. Every day she muscled tables, swept floors, hauled in boxes of groceries, and then wrangled two unruly dogs when she finally arrived home at night. In her free time, she stacked hay bales, mucked stalls, and guided her quarter horse, Mocha Gent, through his paces at barrel racing. Oh, and last week, on an egg run to Calico Farms, she’d manhandled a jack and changed a flat tire on her Ford Taurus. Lifestyles of the rich and famous? Here in small-town Kindred? Like . . . not.

  Suzanne poked a finger at an annoying tendril of hair that tickled the back of her neck. Ten more minutes, she told herself. Gotta white knuckle it for ten more minutes. Then I’m outta here.

  She knew she should relax and let herself be coddled, but there were things that needed to be done. Kit Kaslik’s vintage wedding was tomorrow and she had to figure out what to wear. Toni was babbling about launching a new book club. Her horse, Mocha Gent, still wasn’t ready for the Logan County Fair. And Petra was all freaked out about the Mystery Dinner they had planned for this coming Sunday night. And what else? Oh man. She’d gone and invited her boyfriend, Sam, over for dinner next week. And hadn’t he promised to bring a bottle of Cabernet if she grilled a steak for him? Yes, she was pretty sure they’d struck that particular deal.