“Which is why I don’t think his items made from ivory are genuine. They have to be fake.”
“That is quite an operation. Making a bunch of fake ivory stuff and dressing it up to look old,” said Greg.
“Yeah.”
I sipped my tea and glanced around the room. A man with a young woman on his arm sat across the dining area. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it right then. However, I was willing to bet that the woman he was with was not his wife. “Who’s that?” I asked Greg.
Greg looked where I pointed. “That’s Kyle Kellmore.”
Kellmore! Of course, that’s why he looked familiar. Now that I thought about it, I saw his father’s jaw on him. “How do you know?”
“His face has been in the paper. You really need to read it more often.” Greg stood up and walked over to where a bunch of newspapers lay on a table for the taking. He grabbed one and handed it to me. “Here.”
I glanced at it. The headline read: Prominent Businessman Dies—Son Inherits. I glanced back at Kyle Kellmore. For a man that had recently lost his father—considering the guy died only two days ago—he didn’t seem that upset, especially with his face planted on young, hot thing on his arm. I know some people don’t get along with their parents, but you’d think that he would at least pretend to be sad.
“Doesn’t seem that shaken up,” I commented.
“Some people deal with death differently,” said Greg.
Different is right. Kyle and miss toy were sticking their tongues down each other’s throats. Something wasn’t right. They’re trying to kill me. Mr. Kellmore’s voice echoed in my head. He was adamant that someone was going to murder him and then he died. Suddenly, his accusations rang true to me.
“I want to know more about him,” I said.
“What?”
“Kyle Kellmore,” I said, “Something isn’t right. I want to know more about him and any other family he has.”
“I’ll get Jack to look it up,” said Greg, “In the meantime you can start by reading that article.”
I took the paper. Our food arrived as I read the front page article about Kyle Kellmore.
Philip Kellmore, owner of Kellmore Development, died last Monday from a heart attack. An aging man in poor health, his death came as little surprise.
Ownership of Kellmore Development passes to his surviving son, Kyle Kellmore. “We will continue in the ventures my father took before his passing,” said Kyle in an interview.
Recently, Philip Kellmore purchased the property of Joseph Bourtonson—an abandoned estate who many say is the residence of Smiley’s Ghost—with the intention of building a resort. Plans of construction have been put on hold as the family deals with their tragic loss.
“I think for now we need to amend ourselves with my father’s death,” said Kyle Kellmore, “At some point, Kellmore Development will have to decide what direction we wish to go in now that we are denied my father’s wisdom and guidance.”
For now it appears that Joseph Bourtonson’s property will remain untouched, something I’m certain the ghost appreciates.
See Property Dispute page 8A for more.
I turned to page 8A. A smaller headline read: Sister of Kyle Kellmore Disputes Claim to Bourtonson Property.
Stacy Kellmore, sister to Kyle Kellmore and daughter of the late Philip Kellmore, has filed a property dispute regarding the inheritance of Kellmore Development, but most notably of the Joseph Bourtonson Estate. “My father promised me half of that property,” said Stacy when questioned, “He was on his way to get his will changed when he died.”
Conspiracy theorists are already buzzing about how Philip Kellmore must have been murdered. Many ghost hunters claim Smiley’s Ghost did it. Rest assured, it was nothing more than a heart attack.
The court date for the property dispute is set for September 26. Mrs. Kellmore, Philip Kellmore’s widow, denied comment through her sister-in-law about this latest rift between her children—she hasn’t been seen for the last three years. I’m sure we are all interested in how this will turn out.
I folded the paper and put it down. So Kyle inherited his father’s company and all of the property that his father had purchased. But Stacy Kellmore insisted that the Bourtonson place was to be hers. All was not well in paradise. Something was up and the old man’s death still bothered me. And once again, the abandoned inn/house was in the middle of it all.
I dug into my veal savoring every ounce of it. The veal was tender and the pasta delicious. Investigations would have to wait, but Kyle was definitely on my radar.
Laughter from Kyle’s mistress echoed throughout the restaurant. I got an idea.
“Where are you going?” Greg asked as I stood up.
“I’ll be right back,” I said.
Straightening my outfit, I moseyed over to Kyle. His laughter and enjoyment stopped the moment I reached his table.
“May I help you?” he asked.
“Mr. Kyle Kellmore, I presume,” I said.
“Yes.” His agitated manner told me that he did not appreciate being noticed with his girlfriend.
“My name is Mellow Summers. I just wanted to extend my condolences about your father,” I said, extending my hand.
Cautiously, Kyle took it.
“I was there when he died. Tragic—tragic business.”
“Oh, you’re that clerk from that store,” said Kyle, becoming a bit more friendly.
“Yes, he came in to speak with me about something. Poor guy was really scared.”
“What did he want to speak to you about?” asked Kyle. His tone was too interested.
“I don’t really know,” I replied, which was true enough. “He stammered most of the time and spoke gibberish. Only moments afterward he collapsed to the ground.”
Disappointment swept across Kyle’s face. Does it really matter what his father wanted to say to me?
“Anyway,” I said, “I won’t take up too much of your time. I know things must be difficult now, but I just wanted to let you and your wife—” the woman chuckled when I said that telling me my suspicions were correct, “—know that people are thinking of you in this troubled time.”
“Thank you,” said Kyle, “I am at the office most days. You are welcome to stop by anytime you wish to discuss my father.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Evening.”
That invitation was odd. Why would he invite me over to his office. One short glance behind me told me why as Kyle’s eyes roamed every inch of my figure. Scumbag.
I went back to my table.
“What was that about?” demanded Greg.
“I just wanted to see how he would react,” I replied,
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you think it’s odd that he is at a fancy restaurant with that tramp on his arm at a time when he should be with his family?”
Greg mused over my statement. “Come to think of it, it does seem strange.”
“Yeah, and he’s a horny little bastard too,” I muttered.
“Excuse me?” Greg gawked at me.
“He invited me over to his office while picturing me without my clothes.”
Greg slammed his fork down and started to stand up. “Why that dirty—”
“Sit,” I said yanking him back down. “There is no point in causing a scene. Besides, you can’t stop people from thinking it.”
“You’re not going down there,” said Greg.
“Well—”
“Mel, I mean it. I don’t want you around that guy.”
“But there might be important information in his office. His sister has filed an inheritance dispute.” I showed him the article.
“You’re not going alone.”
“What if I take Tiny with me?”
Greg relaxed some. “That I could live with.”
We finished our meal and left.
Greg dropped me off back home. He had an early morning at work and would be there all day. Jackie had already gone to bed so I
decided to call Tiny and set up tomorrow’s snooping. He answered on the first ring.
“Tiny, I need some help breaking into some guy’s office.”
“Really? Where at?”
That’s what I love about Tiny. He doesn’t care if you want to break the law just as long as you include him in your schemes.
“Kyle Kellmore’s office.”
“You’re investigating that haunted place aren’t you?” accused Tiny.
“No,” I lied, “His father’s death doesn’t feel right and the creep came onto me anyway.”
“He what? I’ll send my boys over.”
This was not going the way I wanted it to. “Tiny, I need to snoop around his office. His sister has filed a lawsuit of sorts and I need more info, the kind people don’t willingly give.”
“Where’s it at?”
“Kellmore Development. He invited me over. I figured I could use the invitation to my advantage.”
“Yeah, I think I know what we can do. Three thirty work for you?”
“Yeah. See you then.”
I hung up. Even though I had to work tomorrow, I’d figure some way to get off before three thirty. I glanced at the clock and noticed that it was midnight. Time for bed.
Chapter 6
Morning came a bit too early for my taste. I grudgingly rolled out of bed as the morning sunlight peeked through my curtains and hit me in the face. If only I could have had a few more minutes—or hours.
“Rise and shine, sleepy head,” came Jackie’s voice from the hallway. Boy was she perky this morning. Knowing that I had little choice but to get up, I hopped in the shower and dressed. Jackie had coffee already brewed by the time I ambled into the kitchen. I poured myself a cup and a bowl of cereal.
“And how are we this morning?” sang Jackie.
“You’re a bit too happy this morning,” I said. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing,” replied Jackie, “It’s just that I know you got in a bit late last night and probably didn’t get much sleep, so I thought I’d rub it in, Miss I’m Going To Be Late For Work.”
I glanced at my watch. Goodness gracious, I was going to be late. I wolfed down the rest of my cereal and chugged my coffee before rushing out the door. My feet pounded down the stairs I rushed to the parking area and my car. Why is it I’m always late?
I arrived at the Candle Shoppe just in the nick of time. How many tardies is a person allowed before they’re fired? Luckily, Mr. Stilton didn’t see me sneak in through the back. I plopped my stuff in my locker, straightened my shirt, and walked over to the cash register.
“Hey, Mel!”
I looked up. Tammy stood right there
“Slow start this morning?” she asked.
Leave it to her to notice that I was a bit late. “A bit of one, yeah.”
I finally took in her outfit. It nearly blew me away. The woman wore a skirt that looked like it was made out of doilies—at least she had a slip on underneath—a tangerine orange blouse with yellow lettering—though I couldn’t make it out—a green head band holding back her curly hair, and bright pink sandals, the kind that wrap up your leg. I started to wonder if maybe she was colorblind besides having no sense of fashion taste. Yuck! Tammy looked like a walking neon sign.
“That is an interesting outfit,” I said.
“You think so?” Tammy whirled around, “I made the skirt myself and the rest I got at a thrift store. They have so much interesting stuff. I don’t know why people throw things away.”
Because it’s awful, I thought to myself. “Well, only you can pull it off,” I said with a smile, while secretly wanting to vomit. “Well, we better get back to work.”
The store remained mostly quiet that day. I guess the heat made it where people did not feel like shopping as they frequented the pool and waterpark. Can’t blame them. A part of me wanted to be there as well. The only customers we had were those looking for a way to escape the heat. They didn’t purchase anything or even pretend to browse our shelves. Talk about a long and boring day at work.
I checked my watch. Three thirty was almost upon me and I had yet to think of a way to get off an hour early. What excuse could I use? We didn’t have much business, so I could just ask to be let go.
“Mel,” said Mr. Stilton as he walked out of his office, “I need both you and Tammy to stay a bit late today so we can do inventory.”
Well there went that idea. Of all the times to want to do inventory. Why now?
“But, Mr. Stilton, I really—”
“I knew you wouldn’t mind,” he said as he walked off staring at the sheet of paper on his clipboard. I don’t think he even heard the words coming out of my mouth.
I checked my watch again. How was I going to get away?
“Got somewhere to be?” asked Tammy; she had noticed me checking my watch repeatedly.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” I replied.
“Oh, is it another case?” She bounced up and down on her tippy toes with excitement.
Since I had nothing to lose, I decided to just tell her the truth. “Yes.”
“Really?” Tammy leaned closer resting her chin in her hands.
“Remember when Mr. Kellmore came in a few days ago? Well, he insisted that someone was trying to kill him.”
“But the paper said it was a heart attack.”
“I know, but he was insistent. Anyway, I just learned that his son inherited all of his property and business, but his daughter has filed a dispute over it claiming that she was to receive a portion too. Also, last night, his son was out with some tramp at a time when most would be grieving the loss of a family member.”
My story intrigued Tammy. “So why do you keep looking at your watch?”
“Because some friends were going to help me investigate Kyle Kellmore at three thirty.”
“Can I come?” Tammy’s face brightened.
“No, they already have a plan worked out.”
Her face fell.
“But,” I continued, “you could help me get away from here. The smallest amount of help could catch a murderer.”
Tammy’s face beamed again. “I got an idea. Lean over that garbage can and pretend to vomit.”
“Wha—”
Tammy had darted off to Mr. Stilton’s office. Getting an idea of what she planned, I pulled over the waste basket and leaned over it making retching noises, while hoping that I really didn’t bring anything up. Footsteps approached.
“Mel?” said Mr. Stilton, with a note of concern.
“I’m sorry, sir,” I said, doing my best to sound sick, “I don’t know what came over me.”
Mr. Stilton frowned, but he seemed to be buying the story. “It has to be this heat,” he said. “It’s been making everyone sick. You go home. Tammy and I can finish up the inventory.”
“Thank you, sir.” I stood up slowly pushing the waste basket back under the counter.
“Don’t worry about it. You just go home and get some rest.”
Thankful to be getting out of there, I walked to the locker room and grabbed my stuff taking one last look behind me. Tammy dumped some orange stuff in the trash can while putting her index finger over her lips. I had to hand it to her. She had actually thought this one through. If Mr. Stilton did look inside the trash, he’d see that orange stuff and just assume I had coughed it up.
I jumped in my car wishing I had waited to let some of the hot air out. What an oven! Cranking up the AC, I sped down the road to where Kyle’s office was. The place wasn’t difficult to find since it was right off the freeway with a gigantic sign and the company’s name in big, bold letters. The crowd of parked motorcycles meant that Tiny and his gang had already arrived.
I decided to leave the windows rolled down when I parked the car. I knew no one would steal it; Tiny had put his signature mark on it and no one stole anything with that mark. Running over the blistering asphalt, I hurried toward the lobby door. Suddenly, a hand snatched me and pulled me aside away from prying eyes.
Tiny’s voice stopped me from struggling.
“You’re late,” he said.
“I had a little trouble getting my boss to let me go.”
“Well, you’re here now,” said Tiny. “Here’s the plan. You walk in there and introduce yourself saying that Kyle Kellmore invited you over. Which he did. Once you have gone into his office, my boys and I will create a distraction which will force him to come down here. You’ll only have minutes, so make the best of it.”
“Got it.” I suddenly realized how lucky I was to have run into Tiny that time Rachel took me to Zappy’s. Just think, if I hadn’t broken his nose, I wouldn’t have gained such a loyal friend.
I smoothed my shirt and brushed dirt off of my pants before walking through the revolving glass doors. The lady at the desk chatted through a Bluetooth while painting her nails a garish shade of red. She glared at me in my simple slacks and blouse as though I had no business being there.
“Excuse me,” I said.
The woman held her hand up. “Yeah, I know…I couldn’t believe it either.”
Oh, give me a break. She’s talking to a friend when she was supposed to be working. It would only take a few seconds to answer my inquiry.
“Excuse me,” I said again.
She held up her hand again while giving me a nasty look. I wanted to smack her painted face. “Oh, and he thought that she would actually go for him. I mean, can you believe it?…Oh, don’t waste your time with him, honey.”
“Look—”
“Excuse me, ma’am, but I am on the phone. You are just going to have to wait.”
Wait? She had to be kidding me.
“Oh, some lady is here being all rude,” the woman continued talking to her friend.
I was being rude? That was it. I snatched the Bluetooth from her ear forcing her to hang up with her friend.
“Hey!”
I slammed the Bluetooth down on the desk; an irate expression etched on my face. “Look lady,” I said, “I am here as a customer and you need to quit chatting with your girlfriend. A few seconds of your time is all I need. Now, I am here to see Kyle Kellmore.”
The woman glared at me, but was too frightened to do anything. “Mr. Kellmore isn’t seeing anyone today.”
Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 07 - Two Ghosts Haunt a Grove Page 5
