This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Copyright © 2014 Helen Conrad
Cover Copyright © 2014 DoorKnock Publishing
Cover images from Shutterstock.com
First Edition December, 2014 published by DoorKnock Publishing
Ghost On Duty
A Destiny Bay Cozy Mystery
By J.D. Winters
Tables of Contents
Copyright Info
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
My Mailing List!
Recipe for Kalua Pig
Also in the Destiny Bay series
An excerpt from A Ghost for Christmas
ABOUT AUTHOR
Chapter One
“I can’t help it,” I admitted, talking louder than usual as the coffee shop was filled to the rafters with customers on this cold, pre-Christmas morning and every one of them seemed to be making a lot of noise. “The man scares me.”
“You?” Jill De Jong, my old college roomie, stared at me in mock amazement. We were sharing a tiny table and a couple of lattes at her coffee bar, Mad For Mocha. “Mele Keahi, aren’t you the girl who spearheaded the protest when Tony’s Meatballs started replacing their mozzarella with some sort of franken-cheese food? I clearly remember you going nose to nose with Tony’s mob-guy-looking cousin, who was obviously packing heat, in front of the whole restaurant. And now you can’t face an old geezer in carpet slippers?”
I tried to give her a baleful stare, but I’m not sure it was very effective. She was still giggling at her own humor and since she was wearing felt reindeer antlers studded with blinking Christmas lights, it was hard to take her seriously.
“Ned Barlow is not that old,” I told her sternly. “And he was only in carpet slippers because I showed up on his doorstep a bit early.”
That had been the day before, my first day on the job. Quite an initiation. I’d been tempted to quit on the spot. But I hung in there and this morning I was officially installed. The town council did the deed at a breakfast meeting. That’s why I was dressed in a nice gray linen suit with high heels and power lipstick and everything. Definitely not my usual jeans and jersey. And the council secretary had pinned a big beautiful orchid on my lapel as a sort of emblem of the hire, I guess. At any rate, I was wearing it with pride.
“That’s why I’m hanging out here,” I explained to Jill. “I don’t want to surprise him this time.”
Jill glanced at her watch. “You might as well take along some sandwiches. It’s almost noon. Old Ned Barlow will surely be hungry by now.”
She grinned at me and I scowled back, but before I could say anything, we had an interloper.
“Ned Barlow,” cried a short, older woman with a mop of grey curls and a perpetually angry look, who was standing nearby. She came over and glared at me. “You having a fight with that old reprobate?” she snapped out.
I hesitated, sorry we’d said his name aloud. I didn’t know the woman and I didn’t like gossiping about people in public like this. I was trying to think of a way to brush her off politely, but she was too fast for me.
“Listen honey,” she crowed at what seemed at the time like the top of her lungs. She waved a plastic travel cup full of peppermint mocha at me, some of it sloshing out the little drinking slit and sending a Christmas aroma into the air. “You better take protection if you’re going out to that old mausoleum of a house to face that man. He’s a collector and he’s got more guns than Fort Knox.”
Jill made her “ah hah!” face. She loved to catch people using inaccuracies like that. “Fort Knox doesn’t have guns,” she said, looking smug. “Gold is what they’ve got.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “That’s why they’ve got the guns, Miss Mensa. Follow the logic.”
Jill frowned and a young man who might have been the woman’s son or nephew took hold of her arm and tried to pull her away.
“Come on, Peg. Let’s go,” he said, giving me an apologetic smile.
She allowed him to tug at her, but she leaned back and cried, “If he gives you any trouble, shoot him right between the eyes. The world will be a better place without him, believe me! It’s high time somebody took the jerk out. I’d do it myself if…”
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 friendl
y. “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 job. 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.
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.
Ghost On Duty (Destiny Bay Cozy Mysteries Book 2) Page 1
