by Rose Pressey
“It’s dialing someone,” I whispered. “What do I do now?” My voice was in a panic.
“I said shut it off.” Charlotte pushed at the computer’s power button, but of course nothing happened.
I reached over and started to shut the computer off completely, but a woman’s face popped up on the screen. She looked familiar. Her gray hair was piled high on top of her head and she had bright blue eyes.
She scowled as she stared at us. “Who are you?”
I should recognize that scowl, but I couldn’t place it. I was frozen as I stared at her. My mouth wouldn’t work. No words came out.
“I asked who you are and why are you on my daughter’s computer?” she repeated.
Oh no. We had contacted Cindy’s mother. She would for sure tell Cindy about what we had done. How would I get out of this mess? My mind was blank. I needed to think of something quickly before she called the police and reported that we’d done something to Cindy. Well, that I had done something since she couldn’t see Charlotte.
“I’m a friend of Cindy’s,” I managed to say.
Her scowl deepened, and I finally recognized it. Cindy had that same scowl.
“Why are you using her computer?”
I couldn’t blame her for that reaction. I would have felt the same way if a stranger had contacted me out of the blue.
“Cindy said I could use her computer,” I said in my sweetest Southern drawl.
“Can you put Cindy on, please?”
“She just stepped out,” I said. “I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”
“What is your name?” It was more of a demand than a question.
No way was I was providing her with my name. I decided to turn off the chat session. “My name is—” I clicked the button on the screen and her face disappeared.
Charlotte laughed. “You’d better hope that she never finds you.”
“I hope she never does,” I agreed as I jumped up from the chair and ran to the front door. I had to abandon my plan of snooping on the computer. After all that had happened, I was exhausted.
“We can’t leave just yet,” Charlotte huffed.
I stopped with my hand on the doorknob. “What are you talking about? If you want me to wait around for Cindy, that’s not going to happen.”
Charlotte peered out the living room window. “No, I don’t want you to wait for her. I need you to get something.”
“What? You want me to steal something from Cindy’s house?” I asked.
“You aren’t stealing anything. This item was mine. Follow me.” Charlotte glided off down the hallway until she reached the bedroom door. She gestured for me to join her. “Hurry up. The faster you do this, the quicker we can get out of here.”
“I don’t know what you’re up to, but it can’t be a good idea.” I hurried down the hallway.
When I stepped into the room, Charlotte was beside the closet door. She touched the doorknob. “Open the door. I want to show you something.”
“Is this some kind of trick? Are you going to lock me in the closet?”
She smoothed down the skirt of her dress. “You should know me better than that by now. Of course not.”
I marched over to the door. “Okay, I’ll do this, but if you lock me in there, I swear I’ll find a way to get out and come after you with holy water or something.”
“Oh, so now you think I’m a demon?” She clutched her chest. “I’m hurt.”
“I’ll know you’re a demon if you lock me in that closet.” I yanked the door open and backed away. “Okay, the door is open. Can we get out of here?”
Charlotte pointed at the back of the door. “See that scarf right there?”
I saw a green, blue, and white silk scarf draped over a hook. “Yes, I see it.”
“That’s my scarf.”
“Okay. So what?”
“It shouldn’t be here. I was wearing it the day that I was murdered.” She reached toward the scarf.
I felt the color drain from my face. “Are you sure, Charlotte? If so, this is significant.”
“I know. Grab the scarf and let’s get out of here.”
I didn’t have time to think about it. I had to get out before Cindy came back and caught me in her bedroom. I grabbed the scarf and dashed out of the room.
Charlotte was already standing by the front door when I rounded the corner.
“How do you do that?” I asked breathlessly as I opened the door.
I didn’t give her time to answer before I burst out onto the porch, not even bothering to close the door behind me. Heck, Cindy had left the back door open when she took off, so apparently she didn’t care if her doors were locked. The sparrows chirping in the trees seemed to be mocking me as I jumped over the daffodils and sprinted across the front lawn.
How had Cindy gotten Charlotte’s scarf unless she’d been in Charlotte’s home?
“Cindy has to be my killer, right?” Charlotte asked as we peeled away from the curb.
I glanced in my rearview mirror, but there was no sign of the black sedan. “Not so fast,” I warned. “We have no way to prove it.”
“You have to tell the police.” Charlotte’s brows were arched in worry.
“I can’t go to the police with this info. Detective Valentine is already suspicious of me.”
“To think she took the scarf off my dead body.” Charlotte shivered.
It was a disturbing thought. And I’d been in the woman’s home. But who were the men who had obviously been searching for something?
Silence filled the car. Charlotte was upset by what had happened and the feeling was mutual. Wind whipped my hair as we cruised the highway with the top down. Strangely, Charlotte’s hair didn’t budge.
“What was it like when you—you know.” I downshifted to slow for a slight curve.
“When I died?” Charlotte’s voice didn’t waver.
“Well, then and now. I mean, did you see some bright light?” I asked.
“To be honest, I don’t know. I don’t remember anything after it happened. I didn’t see my attacker and the next thing I knew I was dead.” The corners of Charlotte’s mouth tugged downward.
“How did you know you were dead?”
An unexpected vulnerability sounded in her voice. “I just knew. I don’t know how I knew.”
“Was it hard getting used to it?”
“You should have seen me the first time I tried to touch something and my hand went right through.” She looked at her hand as if surprised that she could see through its misty shape. “You could have knocked me over with a feather.”
“I bet that was a strange feeling.”
Charlotte patted my hand. “I want to thank you for your help. I know I can be demanding, but I really do appreciate it. You’re just like your grandmother, you know—a real friend.”
I figured this was as close as I’d ever get to witnessing the softer side of Charlotte. But I knew she was being sincere.
“I feel like we haven’t made much progress, but I won’t give up,” I assured her. “I know there has to be a connection between your murder and the private investigator’s death. Right now, we need to pick up Wind Song at the shop, then go home. I need some sleep. In the morning, I’ll figure out what to do next.”
Chapter 22
Heather’s Heartfelt Tip for Getting Rid of an Unwanted Ghost
If being a bad roommate doesn’t work,
try to befriend the ghost.
A friendly ghost is better than a hostile one.
The sun shone across my eyes. I blinked, opening my lids and looking around the room. Charlotte stood in front of my bed. Wind Song was sitting on the floor, licking her paws.
“Well, it’s about time you woke up. Hop up and get dressed. Let’s get a move on.” Charlotte motioned.
I sat up in bed. “Whoa, not so fast. I have an estate sale this morning.”
When I glanced at the clock I saw that I’d overslept. Great. All the bargains would be gone. I jum
ped out of bed in a panic and fed Wind Song. She graciously accepted the Seared Polynesian Sardines in Lobster Sauce that I’d found in the gourmet aisle of Pets Please.
I dressed quickly. The temperature was supposed to be hotter than usual, so I decided on a pair of fifties Roberta Di Camerino leopard print pedal pushers, a white halter that appeared to be handmade, and black wedge heels. I grabbed my black Cartier clutch I’d gotten at an estate sale for next to nothing that was one of my better finds.
I headed out the door and down the front steps. As usual, Charlotte was waiting for me in the car. I didn’t have time to put the top down or to drop off Wind Song, so I’d have to come back for her after the sale. Watching us from the living room window sill, she didn’t look pleased about being left behind.
The sale was all the way across town. Preoccupied with my thoughts, I had no idea what Charlotte was chatting about for the entire ride.
The next thing I knew, we’d pulled up in front of the two-story brick home. A modest-sized house compared to Charlotte’s, it was still big as far as I was concerned. I climbed out from behind the wheel and hurried up the driveway, speeding past several people.
“It doesn’t look like they have much here. You should just give up before wasting any time. We can get back to my case,” Charlotte said as she followed me toward the house.
I talked out of the side of my mouth in case anyone was watching. “I can’t talk to you while I’m in this house. People will think I’m crazy. I don’t need that kind of rumor going on around town. And I have to go to work after this. Remember that store that I have all my money invested in? If my shop doesn’t produce an income, I will be starving and homeless, and so will Wind Song. Plus, I heard there were some great bargains to be found here.”
“If you say so,” Charlotte said.
Little had I known when I’d gone to the last estate sale that I’d suddenly find myself with an otherworldly companion and a psychic cat. And that that ghost would be following me around at the next sale.
I made my way around the first floor, looking through the clothing and odds and ends. After a little searching, I picked up a super-cute vintage eighties strapless black party dress with white polka dots. It had a gathered bodice and peplum ruffle-tiered skirt. Pairing it with the right current-style shoes would give it a modern twist. It might go for a small fortune in my shop. Getting it for a good price would make the whole trip worthwhile.
Since I had been born in the eighties, it was hard to label anything from that era as vintage, but sadly, it was already in that classification.
Holding the party dress, I moved on to another rack of clothing. Charlotte followed closely, offering her advice. I tuned her out, wanting the fun of making my own fashion choices.
On that rack, I found a pink cocktail dress. I wandered a little and picked up a Gucci wallet and a pair of green spike-heeled Jimmy Choo sandals. All great finds.
My next discovery practically made me swoon. It was a fifties swimsuit by Catalina. I picked up the navy-colored suit and realized that it still had the tags. After all these years, no one had worn it. I couldn’t believe my luck. The suit was in amazing condition and made of a cotton blend. It had a pique fold-over cuff. The sweetheart neckline was trimmed with tiny white bows. “Look what I found,” I whispered, unable to hide my excitement.
“Wow. Cookie, that is an amazing find. Can we go now?” Charlotte checked the delicate watch on her wrist.
Way to rain on my vintage clothing parade. I gathered up the items I’d chosen and headed for the cash register. “Fine, we’ll go.”
When I reached the door, I spotted the woman who had been collecting money at Charlotte’s sale. Her snow white hair was styled close to her head like a little helmet. She was petite, even shorter than me at probably about five foot. She wore a gray T-shirt with cats on the front and a pair of denim pedal pushers. I recognized her right away, but would she recognize me?
Probably not, since she saw a lot of people at these events.
She told me the cost of my items, and I handed her the cash. “You were at the other sale that I went to recently.”
She studied my face.
“It was for Charlotte Meadows,” I reminded her.
Her eyes widened. “Oh yes, I remember seeing you.”
I smiled. “This sale isn’t as crowded as the last one.”
“Yes, well, Ms. Meadows had a lot of lovely things.”
“Of course I had a lot of nice things. I had great taste,” Charlotte said with a smile.
The woman counted out the money I gave her and handed me my change. “My name is Ednah White, by the way. What happened with that crazy woman?”
I frowned. Did she mean Charlotte?
“She’d better not be talking about me.” Charlotte tapped her foot against the floor.
“What crazy woman?” I asked.
“The woman who bumped into you. Remember? You were on your way out the door and she wanted to buy the clothing from you,” Ednah said.
“Wow, she heard the whole conversation,” Charlotte said.
And I had thought she hadn’t been paying attention.
“She’s something else, huh?” the woman continued. “Why, she went around to everyone that day trying to figure out what they’d bought, wanting to purchase their items, too. I thought I was going to have to call the police. Some people may have called them for all I know. It wouldn’t have surprised me in the least.”
“What do you mean? She was following people around?” I asked.
“You heard what the woman said,” Charlotte said. “Marie has finally lost it.”
Ednah pulled out a piece of candy from her purse and popped it into her mouth. “Yes, she was angry. I think she was looking for specific items. Apparently, she thought you’d purchased whatever she had been looking for. She got worse after you left. I heard her complaining.”
This woman liked to eavesdrop.
“What did she think I’d bought?” I asked.
Ednah twisted the candy around in her mouth. “That I don’t know.”
With all the eavesdropping she’d done, I thought she would have found out that detail.
“Just look out for her. I think she’s crazy,” Ednah warned.
“Yeah, thanks.” I turned to leave. Clutching my new acquisitions under my arm, I hurried toward the car with Charlotte gliding beside me, as usual.
As I drove away down the quiet tree-lined street, I noticed that I wasn’t the only one heading back downtown. A black sedan drove along behind me, and I knew right away that it was following me. Another black car was back there, too.
I strained to look into the rearview mirror and not wreck. “Can you see that car back there?”
Charlotte peeked in the mirror. “The black one?”
“Yes, the one that is following dangerously close.” My hands grasped the steering wheel tighter.
“Yes, I see it. What do they want?” Charlotte asked.
“That’s what I want to know.”
Chapter 23
Cookie’s Savvy Vintage Fashion Shopping Tip
You can easily mix the old with the new.
Vintage items look great when paired with new clothing.
“Can you see who is driving the car?”
Charlotte turned around in the seat and peered toward the road behind us. “Maybe I’m wrong and I hope I am, but it looks a lot like one of the men who broke in to Cindy’s home yesterday. I think the other man is in the car, too.”
My stomach dropped. “This is not good. What about the car behind that? Doesn’t that look like Detective Valentine’s car?” I asked, gesturing behind us.
Charlotte peered behind us again. “Uh-huh. It is him.”
“Why is he following me, or is he following the men behind me? Maybe he’s following all of us,” I said in a bit of a panic. “What do I do now?”
“How should I know? I’ve never had a car follow me before,” Charlotte said.
I g
lanced in the rearview mirror every couple seconds. “Okay. Since the detective is also behind me, I’ll just act like nothing is wrong. I’ll drive to the store and act as if it’s no big deal that a car with two strange men is following me.”
Charlotte straightened in the seat. “Good idea.”
When I reached the stop sign at Greenbriar Avenue, I had second thoughts. I’d made it to downtown Sugar Creek, and knew that I had to do something different. The Piggy Wiggly came into view. It was closer than my shop, so I decided to pull in. The dark sedan with the two men turned in behind me.
“They’re still following you,” Charlotte said. “Wait until they see the policeman. Then they’ll have a change of heart.”
I clutched the steering wheel tighter. “Maybe they’re the police just like Dylan.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Not if I’m in trouble. Do you think he suspects me? Maybe he found out that I was really in your house.”
“Try to remain calm.” Charlotte touched my arm.
“Easy for you to say.” I drove across the parking lot.
“Okay. Let’s talk about something else. It’ll help your nerves.”
“What do you want to talk about?” I asked.
“Well, how about finding my killer?”
“That’s not a huge variation from the last topic.” I steered to the left.
“I’m telling you there has to be a way to find my killer. Someone had to have seen something.” Charlotte looked out the window.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. After all, you didn’t see your murderer.” I clutched the steering wheel.
“Touché,” Charlotte said.
The parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly was packed. After circling twice, I whipped into a spot several aisles away from the entrance. “With any luck, they won’t follow us into the store. They can’t arrest me in a store, right?”
“Wrong,” Charlotte said matter-of-factly.
As I hurried across the parking lot, Charlotte warned me. “They’re parking in the back row.”
I reached the store’s entrance. As far as everyone was concerned, I was alone on my shopping trip, but of course, Charlotte went in with me. What would they say if they knew I was with a ghost?
