Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 07 - Two Ghosts Haunt a Grove

by Janet McNulty

  I opened another folder. In it was an autopsy report for Philip Kellmore. Doing my best not to green up at the photos, I read through the report. Cause of death: heart attack. Another autopsy report fell out. Detective Shorts must have requested another one to be done. It was dated after I had stormed in here demanding that he reopen the case. A note next to cause of death caught my attention: increased levels of adrenaline. I took out a picture of what looked like a small puncture wound; one that would be easily missed.

  I stuffed the folders back in the desk. A pile of books fell over as I shut the drawer. Picking them up, I scanned the titles. Each book dealt with heart disease and how excess adrenaline can cause heart failure. Was it possible that someone injected Philip Kellmore with it?

  I opened one of the bookmarked pages. Scanning the passage carefully, I learned that in a person with heart disease, increased levels of adrenaline can lead to heart failure. Philip Kellmore was well-known for having a bad heart. His frightened state the day he died would definitely cause an increase in adrenaline.

  But the puncture wound. Could he have been injected with something? Injecting someone with adrenaline and then giving them a good scare would make their heart go crazy. In the case of someone with a bad heart, the combination is deadly.

  I put the books back and turned off the lamp. The detective had figured it out and now he was in trouble. Carefully, I opened the door and peeked out. Still empty. Quickly, I hurried outside and to my car. I tried dialing Jackie, but her phone went straight to voicemail.

  Pulling out onto the road I started to dial Tiny when the light changed to red. I stopped. The clomping of horse hooves prickled my ears. Who would be riding a horse in the middle of the city at this time of night? I glanced around, shoving my phone in my pocket. Nothing.

  The hooves drew closer until they stopped next to my car. “Mel?”

  “Joseph!” I shrieked. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that.”

  He materialized next to me, seated atop his horse. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “What do you want?”

  “They’re back. And this time they have someone new with them, though they keep him tied up. Come on. I’ll meet you there.”

  Joseph tugged on the reins of his horse and galloped off, vanishing into thin air. Making a U-turn, I headed for the highway that took me straight to Joseph’s Bourtonson’s haunted inn.

  I inched my car towards the gate to Joseph’s property. Trails of mist hovered past it giving me an ominous feeling that I should have called someone. Too bad people weren’t answering their phones. Even though the gates were wide open I decided to park the car outside the grounds. Before entering the property, I pulled my flashlight out of the glove compartment.

  No signs of life. Cautiously, I entered the abandoned property and made my way to the inn. Where was Joseph? He said he would meet me here, but there was no sign of him. Great, a ghost with no sense of time. Deciding not to wait, I continued onward. After all, he had told me to come here. He’d show up eventually.

  I spotted a black, unmarked van parked by the inn; just like the one I had seen before. Creeping across the grass and overgrown pavement, I reached the vehicle. No one was inside.

  A clatter alerted me to another’s presence. Instantly, I scurried away from the van and ducked behind some bushes dripping with dew. Two men approached, one of them Kyle.

  “I told you to be more careful,” raged Kyle.

  “You’re the one who allowed that girl into your office. Chances are she was snooping around.”

  “Don’t play this game with me!” snarled Kyle. “It was you and your idiot brother who kidnapped the cop. Aunt Alicia is livid. Now pack this stuff up and let’s get out of here.”

  “And the cop?”

  “We’ll deal with him. One more body in the river won’t make much difference.”

  Detective Shorts was here? Kidnapped?

  Once Kyle and the other man walked back into the cellar, I hurried over to it. A window lay not too far away. Carefully, I peeked through it spotting Detective Shorts immediately—tied to a chair, his head hanging. Something poked me. Realizing that I still had my phone in my pocket, I pulled it out and dialed Tiny. Thankfully, he answered on the first ring.

  “Yo.”

  “Tiny,” I whispered into the phone.

  “Mel? You’ll have to speak up. I can barely hear you.”

  “I can’t,” I hissed, “Listen, I’m at the Bourtonson place looking in the cellar window right at Detective Shorts. They have him tied up and—”

  I never got a chance to finish my statement for at that very moment someone had spotted me. “Hey! What are you doing here?”

  I dropped my phone into my jacket pocket hoping that it would remain connected to Tiny. I took off. Though I knew my chances of getting away were slim, it was still worth a try. I crashed through some brush as I darted around a corner only to run right into one of the cousins. His strong hands seized my wrists yanking me to a stop; my flashlight thudded in the dirt. Despite my efforts, I was no match for him. Another reached us, dressed in the black cloak and hat that I had seen previously.

  “Stop your struggling or we’ll knock you out,” growled the one holding me.

  Knowing I’d never get away, I went limp.

  “That’s better,” he said as he dragged me to the cellar door and down the rotting wood steps. The harsh grip on my arm began to hurt. My captor thrust me into a chair and before I knew it, rope had been tied around my ankles and wrists. A soft moan forced me to glance to my left. Detective Shorts sat next to me.

  “Detective?” I whispered. “Detective are you all right?”

  Slowly, an eye popped open focusing right on me. As though an electric shock had struck him, Detective Shorts’ head snapped upright as his full attention concentrated on me. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “Long story,” I said.

  I glanced around the cellar and the tables coated with plaster covered items. So this is what it was all about? Selling fakes and making money? Where did Philip Kellmore come in?

  “So this is where that flea market guy was getting his ivory,” I said.

  “Yeah,” answered one of the cousins. I didn’t know which one as I could not tell them apart. “We were sitting pretty for the last five years making these items look like the real thing. The guy at the market was more than willing to sell them for a cut.”

  “Would you shut up?” roared another, “Just tell her everything why don’t you.”

  “Not like it’s going to matter. They won’t be talking to anyone once we’re through.”

  I glanced at my pocket hoping that my phone was still connected to Tiny’s. “So what really happened to Philip Kellmore? Did you guys kill him?”

  “You are nosy,” said Kyle as he approached. “I should have known better than to allow you in my office, but I thought it worthwhile to find out what you knew. I must say, you did an excellent job of pretending to be clueless.”

  “Did you murder your father?” I demanded, my voice turned to ice.

  “I didn’t have to. That was Aunt Alicia’s doing. It wasn’t hard. My father had a heart condition. Everyone knew that. A little injection of extra adrenaline, a man dressed as a ghost, and—poof!— he had a heart attack. Too bad you had to go snooping around. I was hoping—” Kyle ran his index finger down my arm “—to know you better.”

  I jerked away as best I could. Kyle just laughed maniacally, clearly enjoying the entire episode. His phone rang. “Aunt Alicia,” he said upon answering, “I know…We’re cleaning up right now…About an hour…Understood.”

  “Well,” he turned back to me after hanging up, “looks like you and your detective friend will be swimming later. You really should learn to mind your own business.”

  The sound of thundering hooves echoed outside as it approached and then stopped. A horse whinnied before charging off again.

  “What was that?” asked one of the cous
ins.

  “Nothing,” said Kyle; a slight tremor in his voice betrayed him.

  “That wasn’t nothing. There’s been weird stuff going on at this place ever since we arrived.”

  “Oh, quit your crying,” said Kyle. “Get this stuff cleaned up and let’s get out of here.”

  The lights went out.

  “What was that?”

  “Probably the generator.”

  I just listened to the exchange between my captors.

  “Go check it out,” ordered Kyle.

  “Why me?” challenged the one he spoke to.

  “Because you’re the biggest sissy among us.” Kyle shoved his cousin up the steps.

  Grudgingly, the man crept up the stairs poking his head outside. I watched as he cautiously walked out disappearing into the night. Suddenly, the hooves thundered again as they pounded the earth making it sound like a stampede took place. The man’s screams pierced our ears. It stopped.

  “Kyle, man, there is something strange going on,” said another of the cousins.

  “Let’s go,” said Kyle.

  Together, the four crept up the stairs and went outside. I watched in anticipation expecting the hooves to start galloping again. I was not disappointed. Instantly, the ghost horse returned in a rage chasing Kyle and his cousins around as they frantically tried to escape.

  Soft steps made their way down. I strained my neck to see. Stacy had arrived. She ran for Detective Shorts and me with a knife in her hands. “SHHH,” she said.

  “Stacy, how did you get here?” I asked.

  “Joseph came and got me when he noticed you being taken by my cousins.” She sliced through the ropes around my wrists. As she made her way to Detective Shorts, I undid the constraints around my ankles.

  “Is that Joseph outside?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” replied Stacy, “He’s keeping them busy. But we must hurry.”

  Sirens reached my ears along with the roar of a bunch of motorcycles. Tiny must have contacted the cops. Either way, I wasn’t about to argue. Since Detective Shorts was unsteady on his feet, Stacy and I placed his arms around our shoulders and carried him up the stairs and out into the fresh—though still very warm—air.

  “Cops!” yelled Kyle.

  I watched in the faint light as he and his cousins jumped in their van and started the engine. They careened to the gate speeding as much as they could until—Crunch!—they ran right into one of the police cars entering the grounds.

  Stacy and I sat Detective Shorts on the damp grass allowing him to catch his breath.

  “I’ll be okay,” he said, “Just need some water.”

  Stacy undid a small water bottle from around her belt and handed it to him. Grateful, he took a big swig allowing some water to dribble down his chin.

  “I’ll go see if there are some paramedics,” I said as I took off for the mass of police cars and motor bikes. I guess Tiny wanted to make sure I was okay.

  “Hey,” I called. “Hey, we need some paramedics over here.”

  Before I knew it, handcuffs had been snapped around my wrists for what must have been the millionth time. ”What’s going on?” I demanded. “I’m not one of them!”

  “You are under arrest for kidnapping of a police officer and conspiracy to commit murder,” said the officer as he mechanically repeated the charges and my rights.

  “Hey!” came Tiny’s voice from a distance. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He snatched the officer’s arm. “She ain’t one of them. She’s one of the victims!”

  “Sir, you’ll have to let go or I’ll place you under arrest for obstruction of justice.”

  “Go ahead and try it,” snarled Tiny.

  Before the confrontation got out hand an ear piercing whistle stopped everyone. “What’s going on here?” demanded Detective Shorts.

  “I am placing this woman under arrest and he is obstructing justice,” said the officer.

  “Get those cuffs off of her,” ordered Detective Shorts.

  “But, detective—”

  “I said release her! She was kidnapped by those men over there and because of her efforts—and the efforts of her friends—I am alive and you have arrested the ones responsible for larceny, and for the murder of Philip Kellmore. Now, let her go.”

  Chastised, the officer undid my handcuffs muttering a curt, “Sorry,” before walking off.

  “Didn’t I tell you not to get involved?” Detective Shorts asked me with a smirk.

  “You should know by now that I never listen,” I replied.

  “Good thing too,” he said, “How did your friends find us?”

  “Mel, called me on her cell before they captured her,” answered Tiny, “Luckily, she didn’t hang up so I recorded the entire conversation between her and that Kyle. I also took the phone to Jack and he tapped into the GPS.”

  “Good thinking,” said Detective Shorts. “I’ll need you both to come to the station and give statements. Then, I’m taking a long vacation.”

  I spotted Joseph in the distance. Tearing myself away from everyone, I hurried over to him. “Thanks,” I said.

  “No problem,” he replied, “I’d like to think that you’d do the same for me.”

  “Hey, you know, there is this ice cream parlor in town. How about we meet there with some friends in a few days.”

  “Do they have mint chocolate chip?”

  “I’m certain they do.”

  “Tally Ho!” Joseph waved his hat and charged across the grounds on his horse. I just chuckled inside. Who would have thought it? A ghost with a sweet tooth.

  Chapter 12

  Several days passed before I was able to meet Joseph at the ice cream shop. Jackie and Greg came, of course, along with Tiny. As we entered the parlor, Stacy stood by the counter with Joseph.

  “Hey,” I greeted her, “what are you doing here?”

  “Joseph didn’t want to come alone,” she said.

  Joseph tipped his hat.

  “Okay, one mint chocolate chip sundae with caramel,” said the girl behind the counter as she handed the sundae over.

  Joseph took it and sat down at a table in the far corner.

  “Don’t ask,” I told the girl as she watched wide eyed as the ice cream appeared to eat itself.

  The rest of us ordered our ice cream and joined Joseph, who seemed to be enjoying his sundae immensely; though how a ghost can eat ice cream I’ll never know. Let’s just say there is a lot about the spirit world that remains unknown.

  “So what happens to the property?” I asked Stacy.

  “Well, with my brother, aunt, and cousins all arrested for forgery, larceny, smuggling, and murder the Bourtonson place falls to me. I own it. Now I can build the wildlife preserve that I’ve always wanted.”

  I was happy for her, but it seemed a shame to tear down such a historical monument. “Might I make a suggestion?”

  “Sure,” said Stacy.

  “Renovate the inn so that it looks exactly like it did when it was first built. You could turn it into a museum for people to learn about local history. The proceeds can go to maintaining the preserve. And you have a tour guide right here,” I pointed at Joseph.

  “Are you sure they would listen to a ghost?” asked Stacy.

  “You don’t have to tell them he’s a ghost. And people will see him if he wants them to.”

  “That’s a good idea,” said Stacy. “Thanks.”

  “How’s your mother?” I asked.

  “I moved her to a home where she will receive the care she needs. She has her own room and I can visit whenever I want.”

  “We need some rum,” said Joseph.

  “Uh, they don’t serve rum here,” I said.

  “Then go to the nearest tavern and get me a pint,” he said.

  “We don’t drink rum,” whispered Stacy.

  “Pity.”

  I wonder how our little outing at the ice cream parlor looked to the people working there with five people eating ice cream and ta
lking to something that wasn’t there. Of course, the disappearing sundae must have proven quite an interesting mystery.

  “So, ready for the semester?” asked Jackie.

  “Sort of,” I said, “I just hope it goes smoothly.”

  Jackie giggled. My life was anything but smooth.

  Look for the next book in the Mellow Summers Series:

  Trick Or Treat, Or Murder

  Get the first chapters of Janet McNulty’s latest books.

  Expected to be released in 2014

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  Afterward

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  About the Author

  Janet McNulty currently resides in West Virginia where she moved after receiving her B.A. in History. She lives with her three cats who keep her on task.

  Ms. McNulty has published a variety of books: a mystery series (The Mellow Summers Series), a fantasy series (Legends Lost), and two nonfiction books. Currently she is hard at work producing the third and final book for Legends Lost.

  When not writing, Ms. McNulty enjoys just lounging around outside or reading a variety of books by a multitude of authors.

  You can learn more about her and her writing atwww.mcnultyjanet.com

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  More With Mellow Summers

  Don’t miss out on more mystery, ghosts, and fun with these other books in the Mellow Summers Series by Janet McNulty.