by D. S. Butler
As soon as Molly was out of sight, all the women in the back row turned off their hairdryers.
They knew exactly where the switches were, and I had a feeling they’d done this before. Maybe it was only Molly’s presence that kept them in line.
I shifted nervously and shot a worried glance at Monty who looked terrified.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” the woman Molly had called Mrs Clarkson said. “Tell us all about it. What happened?”
One of the other women chipped in, “I heard he turned blue and foamed at the mouth.”
“They seem rather ghoulish, Harper,” Monty commented from behind me. I couldn’t help agreeing with him.
All the women in the salon were looking expectantly at me.
I shook my head. “He didn’t turn blue, and he didn’t foam at the mouth. He just…dropped dead,” I explained.
They looked disappointed at such a boring explanation.
“Well, maybe you didn’t see it close up. I have it on good authority he definitely turned blue.”
My mouth gaped open. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. They were talking about a man’s death and trying to turn it into gossip. It made me feel very uncomfortable.
Monty looked irritated. “Bunch of old gossips. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”
He floated forward, glaring at them. Of course, they couldn’t see Monty. I suppressed a smile as I imagined their reactions if they could see him. I pictured them ducking for cover behind their pink chairs.
I’m not sure whether it was Monty’s anger or just how his skills had developed over the last hour or so, but his fingers connected with a curler on one of the empty hairdressing stations, sending it spinning to the floor.
That on its own wouldn’t have been too bad, but Monty decided it was a good idea to pick it up. The women in the salon were no longer staring at me. They were watching a curler float through the air and land on the counter. I froze, dreading their reaction.
Too late, Monty realized his mistake. “Uh oh. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Did anyone else see that?” Mrs Clarkson demanded, grabbing her over-sized purse from the floor and pulling out her glasses. “I could have sworn that curler just jumped up onto the counter!”
Before anyone could back her up, I said, “No, you must be seeing things.”
Thankfully, Molly returned at that moment, but she was frowning. “I’m afraid I couldn’t get an answer, which is very strange. She told me she was going to stay at home today because she was so shaken up. I hope she’s all right.”
“If you give me her address I could go and check on her now,” I suggested.
I was in a hurry to get out of there. The women were talking between themselves and shooting me wary glances every so often.
Molly debated my request for a moment and then she reached for a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled down Laura’s address.
“I’ve put my telephone number on there as well. If there’s a problem, give me a call.”
I nodded and took the scrap of paper from her triumphantly. “I will do. Thanks again.”
I left the salon with Monty following me. Although the outside air was cold, it was nice and refreshing after the clammy heat of the salon.
We didn’t have any clues yet, but we did have Laura’s address, so at least, we were making some progress. I didn’t dare talk to Monty yet but shot him a quick smile as he positioned himself beside me.
I walked along Main Street back to the car with Monty zooming around the people passing us on the sidewalk.
We hadn’t gone too far when I heard someone shout out behind us. “Excuse me! Wait up a minute.”
I turned around to see Mrs Clarkson gaining on me. She was slightly overweight and huffed and puffed as she jogged along the sidewalk.
“I figured you might want some information about Laura.”
I frowned and nodded. I didn’t want to participate in her brand of gossip, but I did want to find out everything I could about Laura.
“Yes, have you got something to tell me?”
Mrs Clarkson nodded. “Well, I’m not one for gossip, but she has been acting very strangely lately.”
“In what way?”
“It’s hard to explain really, but I think she’d had something on her mind. She’s been very distracted.”
I nodded. That wasn’t exactly concrete information, but it did add more fuel to the fire. Another suggestion that Laura was keeping secrets.
I nodded encouragingly at Mrs Clarkson. “Do you know why she was distracted?”
Mrs Clarkson shook her head. “No. I did ask her what was wrong, but she told me to mind my own business, which I thought was rather rude.”
“Hmmm,” I said in what I hoped was an encouraging noise. I couldn’t blame Laura for not wanting to confide in a gossip like Mrs Clarkson, though.
“But she was definitely distracted, and she’d gotten even worse recently. The last time I was at the salon, when I had an appointment for a trim and to have my highlights touched up, she injured me.”
I glanced at Mrs Clarkson’s hair, which was a muddy shade of blonde. I didn’t think much of her highlights. “How did she injure you?”
“When I had my trim, she nicked the top of my ear with her scissors. It didn’t stop bleeding for five minutes! Of course, she was full of apologies and said the scissors slipped from her hand, but I know the real reason.”
“And what was the real reason?”
Mrs Clarkson tutted. “I’ve already told you. Don’t you listen? She was distracted, of course.”
“Of course,” I repeated glumly.
I’m sure Mrs Clarkson thought she was being very helpful, but she hadn’t given me any extra information. Laura was distracted, but we had no idea why or what was bothering her.
“Well, thank you very much for your help. I’ll go and see Laura now.”
I walked quickly away from Mrs Clarkson so she couldn’t start asking about Monty turning blue again.
I looked down at the scrap of paper that contained Laura’s address and realized she didn’t live very far from the salon. We could have walked, but because it was cold today, I figured it would be easier and cozier to take the car.
Once Monty and I were inside the vehicle, I glanced up the side street and saw there was no one around. So, I dared to turn to him and said, “It seems Laura has some problems. Can you think of any reason why she was so distracted recently?”
“Not really,” Monty said tentatively. “But, I did hear her laughing the other day, saying something about a new man in her life.”
I thought that over for a minute. A new man in Laura’s life didn’t necessarily have anything to do with why Monty was murdered. Laura’s strange behavior recently could be completely unrelated. But, I couldn’t rule out her involvement in Monty’s death just yet. I needed to talk to her first.
Chapter 15
The address Molly gave me for Laura was Thirty-Six Cherry Avenue. It was close to the center of town, and when we pulled up outside, I took a look up and down the well-kept street. Cherry trees were set out at regular intervals. The branches were still bare at the moment, but I knew they would look incredibly pretty in the spring. I checked there was nobody watching me, and when I saw the coast was clear, I turned to Monty. “Ready?”
Monty nodded and looked determined.
We got out of the car and looked up at number thirty-six. It was a three-story townhouse, and I thought it was rather big for a woman living on her own. But I figured maybe she’d inherited it from family.
There were three stone steps leading up to the front door, and I climbed them quickly before rapping on the dark green, wooden door.
I waited for a while, but there was no response.
I took one step backwards and looked up at the windows. There were no lights on, but it wasn’t dark yet. Was Laura inside? I wondered if she was sleeping.
I stepped forward and knocked again,
standing close to the door so I could listen and hear any movement inside. I heard nothing but silence.
Surely, Laura wouldn’t be able to sleep through my knocking so loudly on her front door. Had she gone out? If so, where? She was supposed to be working this afternoon and had told Molly she was too upset and needed to go home. If she wasn’t at home, it looked like she’d lied to her boss.
There was definitely something strange going on with Laura.
I exhaled a long, disappointed breath and thought about what to do next. I figured we could wait in the car for a while and see if she showed up.
I trudged back down the steps and Monty said to me, “I have an idea.”
I turned to him but didn’t dare speak. Although I couldn’t see anyone around, I had no idea who might be gazing out of the houses lining the street.
“Why don’t I float up there and peer into the windows?” Monty suggested.
I thought about that for a minute. Although, in most circumstances, I thought spying on someone when they had no idea you were there was a bit creepy, I was getting desperate and had started to think Laura was involved in subterfuge.
I nodded and quietly mumbled, “Okay.”
I stood by the car and looked up, watching Monty zoom through the air to the windows on the top floor. He peered into each one, turning to me when he was finished and shaking his head.
He then set off around the back of the house to do the same to the windows on the opposite side.
A few seconds later, he appeared on the roof. He shook his head, and I sighed. Great. What a waste of time.
He leaned against the chimney and then grinned. Then to my bemusement, he began to tap dance on the top of the roof. He was playing the fool and hamming it up. I couldn’t resist grinning back at him.
I had to hand it to Monty. He was certainly the most cheerful ghost I’d dealt with so far.
Unfortunately, in the next instance, his foot connected with a roof tile and it shot out, spinning through the air and landed with a crash on the sidewalk just in front of my car.
Monty’s eyes widened, and he slapped a hand over his mouth.
He was developing the skills that enabled him to interact with solid objects, but obviously hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it yet.
I groaned as Laura’s neighbor’s front door opened and a short, skinny old man stomped out onto his front step. “What was that noise? And who are you? Why are you hanging around here outside my house?”
“Um, I was visiting your neighbor, Laura, but she didn’t open the door.”
“No kidding, Einstein. Of course, she didn’t open the door. She’s gone out.”
The man was like a little tornado of anger, and it took me a while to get my thoughts in order to ask a question. “Um, do you know where she’s gone?”
“What am I? Her keeper? Why are you bothering me with silly questions? I’m trying to watch my Jeopardy rerun. Clear off.”
And with that, he went back inside and slammed the door.
Wow. They weren’t very friendly around here.
I waved for Monty to come down from the roof. We now knew that Laura was out, and I didn’t want him up there causing more damage.
Monty floated down to join me on the sidewalk. “I’m so sorry Harper. I didn’t mean to do it. I can’t seem to control when or where I interact with solid objects. You just looked so miserable, I thought I’d try and cheer you up. When I was up there by the chimney, it made me think of Mary Poppins, so I thought I’d do a little Dick Van Dyke tap dance.”
I wrapped my scarf around my mouth so if the little man next door was still glaring at me, he wouldn’t see me respond to Monty.
“That’s sweet of you, Monty. But I think we need to get out of here. Laura’s next-door neighbor doesn’t seem too happy with us hanging around.”
We got back into the car, and I drove a little way out of town before pulling over to the side of the road. There was nothing around us but trees and the sound of birds chirping.
I turned to Monty and asked, “What now?”
Monty looked at me, surprised. “I don’t know. I thought you were the expert. You’ve done this sort of thing before, haven’t you?”
“A couple of times. I’m hardly an expert. I don’t know what to do next. If Laura doesn’t want to speak to us, I can’t force her. It’s not like I’m law enforcement. As far as she’s concerned, I’m just some nosy young woman from Abbott Cove.”
Monty reached out to pat my shoulder, but his fingers traveled right through it. “Sorry, I keep forgetting about that,” he said with a sigh. “We can’t give up now. We’ve still got John Gastineau to question. He might know something to help us.”
I nodded. Monty was right. I was giving up too easily.
I’d decided to leave John Gastineau until last because he’d been so shaken up by Monty’s death. Of course, that was probably largely because he’d blamed himself. It was his sword that had come crashing down on Monty’s helmet, and that was what we originally thought had killed Monty.
“Okay, do you know where John lives? We’ll go and speak to him now, and if we don’t get any useful information from him, we’ll wait for the toxicology and post-mortem results tomorrow before we do some more digging.”
Monty smiled. “That sounds like a good plan to me.”
Chapter 16
Monty gave me directions to John Gastineau’s house. It was about half a mile out of town, and I was surprised that it had a long, private driveway.
“This is a bit fancy,” I said to Monty.
“Just wait until you see the house,” Monty said. It was only built a couple of years ago, but it’s huge.”
That surprised me. I hadn’t realized John Gastineau was so well-off. “What does John do for a living?”
“Nothing,” Monty said with a shrug.
“Do you mean he made his fortune like you and then retired in Cherrytown?” I teased.
I wondered what it was about Cherrytown that attracted all these young retirees to it like moths to a flame.
Monty shook his head. “Not as far as I know. It’s his wife who has the money. She owns a number of fashion boutiques in New York and Boston.”
“So, John is a househusband? That’s rather modern.”
Monty grinned. “I suppose it is.”
When the house came into view, it took my breath away. Monty said the house was huge, but I had no idea he meant on this scale. It was enormous. It was hard to judge from the front, but I guessed the property must have been at least twenty square feet. Goodness knows how many bedrooms it had.
It was contemporary in style, with large windows to let in plenty of natural light even on a dreary day in winter. The house was shielded from the road by a thick line of beech and aspen trees, giving it privacy. Without traveling up the long driveway, a passerby would have no idea the house was there.
We pulled up on the gravel just outside the house, and I started to feel a little nervous. I wondered if John and his wife had a butler!
“How many times have you been here?” I asked Monty as I switched off the engine.
“Just twice. Once to pick John up on the way to a re-enactment, but I didn’t go inside. The only time I saw the interior was during a party John threw here in the summer.”
“Was his wife at the party?”
Monty shook his head. “I’ve never met her. I think her name is Lucy or Lucille. Something like that. She isn’t often in Cherrytown and spends most of her time in New York and Boston, I think.”
“Right, let’s hope John can give us some useful information.” I reached for the door handle but turned back to look at Monty. “Remember, I won’t be able to talk to you outside of the car.”
Monty grinned. “I’ll try to remember. It’s not easy, but I am getting better at it.”
I smiled at him and then got out of the car.
I looked up at the massive brick mansion and felt intimidated as I walked towards the double front door.
I rang the elaborate, brass doorbell and waited. There was no sound from inside, but I waited for quite a while before I rang the doorbell again. The house was so big. If John was upstairs when the bell sounded, it might take him some time to get to the front door.
But when John didn’t answer the door after the third ring and I’d been waiting outside in the cold for five minutes, I resigned myself to the fact he must have gone out.
I turned to make my way back to the car but realized Monty was no longer hovering beside me. I quickly looked around, panicked, wondering where he was.
But it didn’t take long for me to spot him hovering above a flower bed and peering into one of the windows on the ground floor.
I was pretty sure nobody was around to overhear me, so I hissed at him, “Psst. Monty, what are you doing?”
Monty turned back to me and said, “John is at home. I can see him. He’s watching a film and…”
Monty trailed off, frowning. Intrigued, I made my way over to him, tiptoeing my way through the muddy flowerbed, and hoped I didn’t leave footprints behind.
I peered into the window and saw that Monty was right. John Gastineau was sprawled out in a leather recliner in front of a huge television screen. And he was laughing. Not just quietly chuckling to himself but full on belly laughing.
I’m not sure why that struck me as odd. Probably because the last time I’d seen him he’d been a wreck, in tears and incredibly upset. It was hard to reconcile that character with the John Gastineau watching an Adam Sandler film and laughing hysterically.
“John seems to have perked up a bit,” Monty commented dryly.
I was just wondering if I dared to rap on the window to get his attention when we heard the sound of tires over gravel. We quickly turned and saw a black Bentley rolling up the drive towards us.
“Uh-oh. You should probably get out of the flowerbed, Harper. I think that’s John’s wife,” Monty said.
Great. Just great. She’d caught me red-handed peering into her house and trampling all over her flowerbed.
I quickly dashed back over to the path and hoped she had bad eyesight and hadn’t noticed.
