The Ghost Hunter Next Door: A Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries Book 1)

by Danielle Garrett

  I scoffed at myself and shook the thought from my head. There wasn’t time to sit around dwelling on my lack of a love life. Or, at least, the lack of anything that lived up to the town gossip chain’s version. I was halfway to the alter, if Gwen’s version was to be believed.

  “Thanks, Gwen,” I called when she turned and caught me in her peripheral.

  “Anytime.” She threw a wink my way. “Us girls have to stick together.”

  I fired up my computer and opened up the back office for Lily Pond’s website. The entire system had cost quite a chunk of my inheritance money, but it allowed me to network with other florists and fulfill orders from out-of-towners. It also allowed my existing customers to shop online. Of course, I preferred a consultation for bigger events, especially weddings. Wedding season was around the corner and I hoped that even though Beechwood Harbor was a small town, there would be a few local weddings to get me some walking-around money.

  In my opinion, it was good that the Lilac House was being turning into a Bed & Breakfast. The fact that the renovations were being done by the Carters and would be revealed on national television would only improve things. Prior to the show actually starting, rumors spread that other properties they’d renovated were booked solid for months, even years, within days of the show hitting the airwaves. All those newcomers had the potential to really overhaul the tourist scene in Beechwood Harbor and shake things up. Granted, from what I’d been told, the summer was already booming thanks to people on summer vacation heading to the beach, but without any major hotels inside the small town, most of the business was spill-over, people driving through as they cruised down the 101 or taking advantage of the less crowded beaches for a day in the sun.

  Lucas had taken me on a brief tour and explained that the Lilac property would have six guest suites with the carriage house in the back turned into a deluxe hideaway perfect for honeymooners. I was planning to approach the manager as soon as the place was operational to see about snagging a weekly contract. They would have a dining room, continental breakfast buffet, coffee tables, guest book tables—all of which would look better with fresh cut florals!

  “Did you have a good time last night, Lady Scarlet?” Hayward asked, coming to join the conversation. He wasn’t one who liked being left in the cold.

  “With Lucas,” Gwen added, in case I might have forgotten.

  I opened my mouth to answer only to realize I wasn’t really sure.

  Gwen cooed when I sputtered to answer.

  “Before you go getting all gaga, nothing happened. Honestly, we were closer to brawling than kissing.”

  Gwen fanned her face. “Sounds like love!”

  I stared at her, my lips parted. “Sometimes, Gwen, there are no words.”

  She grinned at Hayward. “Has she always been like this?”

  “Like what?” Hayward asked, all wide-eyed innocence.

  Gwen playfully smacked at his arm. “Oh, Hayward, you’re so funny.”

  Hayward looked at me, confused.

  I laughed and hit print on my daily list of orders. Nothing earth-shattering, but a few projects to keep me busy, not to mention keep the electricity bill paid. “As you know, we went to talk to Rosie’s ex-fiancé, Calvin.”

  Gwen frowned. “What did you wear?”

  I shook my head in disbelief, and with a huff, reached for the printer tray and snatched up the fresh pages. I took the orders to the studio space and laid them out on the work table, mentally organizing my day.

  “Hayward, you were married, right?” Gwen asked.

  Hayward’s expression shifted. “Uh, well, yes, that’s correct, Lady Gwen. I was married for thirty-two years to my sweetheart, Mary.”

  Gwen sighed wistfully and floated up to sit on the corner of my table. “That’s so romantic!”

  Hayward removed his hat and passed it back and forth between his hands. “She was a wonderful woman. Gave me two sons, Edward and James. I keep telling Scarlet she should look up my great-grandson one of these days. He lives in London and is very successful!”

  “Oooh, now there’s an idea!” Gwen squealed, spinning to face me, her mile-long legs crossed. “Scarlet, why don’t you?”

  I laughed. “Oh, yeah, because blind dates aren’t awkward enough. Let’s throw in a ghostly great-grandfather playing Cupid and see how that plays. No, thank you!”

  Gwen harrumphed. I was clearly ruining all of her fun.

  Pity.

  “How did you meet your wife, Hayward?” she asked, turning her back on me once again.

  Hayward spun the tale while I moved back and forth between the walk-in cooler and the work table. I picked up most of Hayward’s recollections and was able to fill in the gaps, as I’d heard him tell it a few times before. It truly was a sweet love story; there was no denying him that. Judging from the way Gwen hung on his every word, she agreed. Hayward and Mary had met as children because their families ran in the same social circles and had lots in common—mostly money. Oodles and oodles of money. When they grew a little older, they each went on with their own social circles, never paying much attention to each other, until one night a terrible storm hit while Mary’s family was attending a dinner at the Kensington’s. Hayward’s parents insisted they all stay the night and not risk the storm. Mary couldn’t sleep because she’d been afraid of the thunder, and ended up in the library, looking for a book to pass the time. Hayward happened to wander in and that was it. The night ended with an unexpected kiss and they were married the following summer.

  Gwen swooned—literally—when Hayward finished, her eyes glittering with silvery tears.

  Despite hearing it before, the crescendo of the story melded with the longing look in Hayward’s eyes even had me sniffling as I worked through removing the thorns from a dozen long-stemmed roses.

  “Lady Scarlet, are you all right?” Hayward asked.

  I gave a quick nod and muttered something about getting stuck by a thorn.

  “I wish I had a story like that,” Gwen said, her voice distant. “I had lots of boyfriends but none of them were special. Not like your Mary. Even if they were, I probably wouldn’t have noticed. I was too busy having fun.” She scoffed. “Look how far that got me. The biggest lesson I learned in life was the one that came too late.”

  “That stage diving and copious amounts of hallucinogens don’t mix well?”

  I cringed at the mocking voice.

  “Flapjack!” Hayward bellowed. “You take that back right now, you insensitive buffoon!”

  Gwen whipped around and locked her eyes on Flapjack as he sauntered into the room with the lazy grace only a cat could manage. “Why are you always such a meanie?” she hurled at him.

  I frowned at the smiling feline. “That was unkind, Flapjack.”

  He rolled his head back. “Fine, fine. I’m sorry.”

  “Very sincere,” I muttered under my breath.

  Days like this, I wondered what I’d done in a past life to warrant my cranky childhood pet coming back to haunt me. For some people, that might be a dream come true. For me, it was more curse than blessing.

  Flapjack groomed his face, licking his front paw and rubbing it over his slightly flat face. He didn’t have a Cheshire grin, but I was sure that if he did, it would have been turned on full blast. “You’re quite the hot topic around town, Scar. I was just wandering through the grocery store and heard all about your new romance.”

  “Great,” I groaned. “Listen, guys, the rest of town might think there’s something going on, and I can’t help that, but for the record, nothing is going on between Lucas and me. Besides, he’ll be gone in a little over a week. It’s not like it would ever work out even if that’s what I—we—wanted. All right?”

  Hayward perked up. “Oh, come now, Scarlet. It’s the digital age. Long distance relationships are easier than ever before!”

  I shrugged my shoulders and then crossed my arms. “Since when did you turn into a relationship expert? Have you been reading Cosmo again?”<
br />
  Hayward flushed. “It was one time and it was Flapjack’s idea!”

  I held up my hands. “Hey, no judgment, but I don’t need your half-baked advice, all right?”

  It was Gwen’s turn. She floated closer, her eyes pleading. “But, Scarlet—”

  “No! Enough, all right? I have a lot of work to do today and in case any of you have forgotten, I still have to figure out how to shut down Rosie’s reign of terror before she snaps.”

  Chapter 15

  “Overall the whole night was a little pointless.”

  “I’ll say,” Gwen muttered.

  I ignored her and continued. “I managed to get Calvin to admit that maybe there was something strange going on at the Lilac property, but as soon as I brought up the possibility that Rosie’s spirit was still in residence, he basically threw me out of his hotel room.”

  Gwen sank down to sit at the consultation table. “Bummer.”

  “Yeah.” I swigged back another mouthful of coffee, already planning for another cup. “In hindsight, maybe I should have left that part out of the conversation, but I wasn’t sure how else to get him to talk about what happened that day.”

  “Did he seem guilty?” Flapjack asked.

  “I don’t know.” I’d wrestled with the question for the better part of the night—hence the massive mug of coffee. “Is it ever really clear-cut like that? Without evidence? I don’t know if my gut feeling is enough to base anything off of.”

  Gwen straightened. “So your gut says he is guilty?”

  “My gut says there’s something he isn’t telling me. I’m just not sure what that thing is yet. And now my one shot is gone.”

  “Take heart,” Hayward said, gliding in from the studio space. “It wasn’t likely he was going to spill his secrets to you in the first place. What motive would he possess for such a confession?”

  “Hayward’s right,” Gwen said.

  Hayward beamed and grabbed a hold of his lapels.

  “If Rosie is telling the truth and Calvin pushed her down those stairs, he’s not just going to burst out and tell someone that. Especially when it’s been over two decades. For all we know, he believes that it was an accident.”

  I frowned into my mug, realizing I’d hit a dry well. “Or, it really was an accident, and the thing he’s hiding is something completely unrelated. Or maybe I misread him. Maybe he’s just a nervous kind of guy. Who knows.”

  “Well you’d better find out before that woman blows the whole place up!” Hayward told me with a sharp eye.

  “Gee, thanks for the reminder, Hayward.” I threw my free hand into the air and then stomped back to the four-cup coffee maker in my tiny office space and set about brewing a new pot. Normally one was enough, but with my recent extracurriculars, I wasn’t getting a lot of shut-eye and needed all the help I could get.

  With a growl, I realized I’d run out of coffee beans.

  “Everything okay in there, hun?” Gwen called from the front.

  I clenched my jaw. “Just dandy.”

  My idea machine was running on fumes. I needed a nap but I was going to have to settle for coffee, so at half past ten, I caved and announced I was stepping out to get a latte. I grabbed up my keys, wrote a sticky note, and stuck it to the fresh glass panels. I still needed to order a new vinyl decal to adhere to the top portion, but at least I looked like a proper business again, instead of something you’d see after taking the wrong turn in a sketchy neighborhood.

  I was a few feet away when Flapjack appeared at my side, trotting to keep pace with me.

  “Where are you going?” I asked him.

  “I was going to follow you to the coffee shop.”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  He glanced up, a wicked look on his furry little face. “I like heckling that witch who works there.”

  I stared at him, mouth open. “You mean Holly?”

  Flapjack’s whiskers twitched. “She can’t acknowledge that she sees me, so I like to go and talk to her when she’s making drinks.”

  “Flapjack!”

  “Last time I popped in, she shot whipped cream all over the floor. What I wouldn’t give for a set of taste buds …”

  “I’ll have to remind her about the lemon trick,” I said, giving him a caustic look. “You’re a real piece of work, Flapjack.”

  “A masterpiece!” Flapjack replied with a swish of his fluffy tail.

  He vanished before I could correct him and I grumbled. “Nasty little thing.”

  There were days I think I might actually miss Flapjack when, or maybe if, he ever crosses over into the next world. Today wasn’t likely to be one of them.

  A light drizzle followed me to the coffee shop, which was several blocks away from Lily Pond. I hadn’t ran upstairs to get my rain jacket before leaving and ended up damp and shivering by the time I opened the door of the coffee shop. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and heavenly pastries went a long ways toward reviving me.

  I stepped up to the counter when the line in front of me cleared. Holly smiled at me as she finished wiping down the espresso machine. “How’s the week treating you?” she asked.

  I lifted one shoulder. “Not much to report.”

  It wasn’t a total lie. There honestly wasn’t much that I could say. Sure, the whole ghost thing wouldn’t have thrown Holly off her game. She was used to them. But the cold case maybe-murder would probably be a little heavy for a morning coffee chat.

  I placed my order and then shuffled to the end of the counter to wait for my drink. Holly handed over a paper bag and I dove into the double-chocolate-chip muffin without apology. Mouth full, I turned away and surveyed the quaint coffee house. I stopped cold when my eyes landed on the occupants of the farthest table.

  Calvin Harrison was sitting opposite a dark-haired woman dressed in a green polka-dot parka. They were leaning in close, speaking in a way that suggested they didn’t want any part of their conversation to be overheard.

  I swallowed hard and whipped back around before Calvin spotted me.

  What was he doing at Siren’s Song? Was he in town for filming? Why hadn’t Lucas given me a head’s up? And, more importantly, who was he talking to? Their body language wasn’t that of a couple of old friends catching up. They both looked uncomfortable and tense.

  “Here’s your vanilla hazelnut latte,” Holly said.

  I gave her a quick smile as I reached across the counter to take the drink. “Thanks.”

  With a quick glance over my shoulder, I leaned in closer. “Holly, do you know who that woman is? The one in the polka dots?”

  Holly peeked past me. “Yeah, actually. She’s a regular. Wendy.”

  I stiffened. The Wendy? How many Wendys could Calvin know?

  “Thanks,” I told Holly.

  “Sure.” She shrugged. “Is everything all right?”

  “Uh huh. I’ll see you later,” I mumbled, trying to make everything click together.

  “Okay?” Holly replied, her tone edged with concern. She didn’t press the issue though, and I wandered over to the intricate driftwood table near the front door to put a dash of cinnamon on the rich foam of my drink. I capped it and slipped a cardboard holder around the cup.

  It was still raining, so I made a show of standing near the doors, watching the rain. People would assume I was waiting for a break in the downpour and it bought me a few minutes to figure out what to do. The next time I looked over at the corner table, Calvin was standing up and shrugging into his water-resistant overcoat. Wendy hesitated a moment but then joined him, and the two of them shared what looked like a painfully awkward embrace. Calvin pulled away first and even though I was twenty feet away, I could see something flicker across Wendy’s face.

  When Calvin moved toward the door, I twisted away, not wanting to have a reunion.

  Wendy went back to the counter and ordered something else, then went back to the table. I watched her for a long moment. She stared out the window, watching the rain drops streak dow
n the panes. Her hand was wrapped around her fresh coffee, but she hadn’t taken a drink yet.

  My heart hammered, but I forced myself to ignore the overwhelming anxiety and crossed the room.

  “Wendy?” I said, stopping at the end of her table. “Mind if I sit here?”

  She snapped around, startled, and then quickly scanned the room. There were plenty of other seats available. Her thick brows knit together. “Um … sure? I’m sorry, do I know you?”

  I slipped into the chair opposite her and set my own drink to the side. “Not really,” I answered, searching for my next words. “I’m here to ask you about Rosie March. You were her best friend, right?”

  Wendy reeled back but then her eyes narrowed. “How did you know Rosie?”

  It was a fair question, especially as I would have been a little girl when she died.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself,” I replied, trying to sound flustered and scattered. I reached for Wendy’s hand. “I’m Gwen,” I said, throwing out the first name on the tip of my tongue. “I work for the production studio. I help organize the historical voiceover and I recognized you from pictures taken at the Lilac House. It looked like they were from a party of some kind, maybe a—”

  “Rosie’s bridal shower!” Wendy exclaimed.

  “That must have been it.” I snapped my fingers and flashed a relieved smile. I hadn’t seen any pictures. The whole bluff was a risk, but one that paid off big time. I wouldn’t have to drag Wendy into my little dead people docu-drama after all. “You two were thick as thieves, huh?”

  I watched her debate whether or not to ask a follow-up question. After a moment, her expression shifted and she gave a slight nod. “We met in high school. We shared a locker, actually. We stayed local after graduation and ended up going to community college together.”

  “She was a hygienist, is that right?” I asked, sprinkling in another factoid.