A Prickly Predicament (Mad River Mystery Series Book 1)

by Constance Barker

  By expending great effort, I knew, earthbound spirits are able to manipulate physical reality at times. But I just couldn’t imagine how a spirit entity could effect such an enormous challenge as dropping those three saws—all at the exact same moment, and in such a way that they all landed right on top of poor Adam Gaunt at angles precisely calculated, it seemed, to mortally wound him.

  On the other hand, I couldn’t imagine just how it had happened by any means, whether by spirit or by living being. The only thing I could imagine at the moment was that if ghosts had done it, there would had to have been an entire community of them working together, and the ghosts I knew just wouldn’t do that. For one thing, they were hardly ever in full accord with each other about anything at all, much less anything as momentous as what had happened here. For another, why would they bother? As far as I knew they had nothing against Adam Gaunt, though most of them thought him a fool. The idea of ghosts having killed Adam was almost laughable. What would they gain other than more company for themselves. Nah…just didn’t seem likely.

  The other possibility might be that there were new ghosts in the area. Was that it then? Were there ghosts in Mad River whom I hadn’t yet met? And were they angry, mean-spirited ghosts? The notion sent a chill down my spine.

  “Have you seen the video, Matt?” I asked, keeping my voice level.

  “No, it’s in police custody at the moment, but Annabelle said I could take a look at it in the morning.” Annabelle O’Dell, our town’s mayor, would definitely be on Matt’s side in this case. It was in her best interests, too, to settle this matter quickly and in a way that kept business flowing through Mad River. “My attorney and my insurance agent will be there, too.”

  I nodded. “That’s good.” I took a chance then and asked what I was dying to know. “Um, Matt, do you think I could join your little party in the morning?”

  “I don’t see why not, Shelby,” he answered, to my great relief. “Maybe you’ll see something the rest of us might miss.” He patted my shoulder.

  Calinda’s voice interrupted my pleasant reverie. “I’m worried that a murder, ghost or otherwise will hurt Mad River’s reputation. I’m sorry, that sounds so cold. That poor young man. But I also worry about our town’s livelihood. We’ve always been known as a quiet simple town. Now it’s murder and ghosts.”

  “Hold on, hon,” Matt answered. “This could have been an accident. We just don’t know. Or maybe it was ghosts.”

  “Don’t tell me you truly believe in ghosts!” she countered. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

  “Well, it’s starting to look as if they are,” he answered. “Don’t be so close-minded, dear.”

  “I cannot believe you would actually fall for that,” Calinda answered. “Let’s think this through.”

  “If it was an accident, then it was a really freaky one,” I said.

  Calinda nodded. “I say it was a murder.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you, Calinda,” I said. “Despite all the blood, the incident seems too tidy, too well planned to have been an accident.” What I didn’t say was that I was pretty sure the ghosts I knew hadn’t caused it.

  “Try not to worry, dear,” Matt said reassuringly to his wife, “Business will be better than ever this spring. Just you watch.” He encircled her shoulders with his beefy arm, but she pulled away from him. He pressed his point. “The publicity will do wonders for our little town. People will flock to the reenactment next spring. People love to be scared!”

  “Don’t call me ‘dear,’” she huffed, but there was little malice in that huff. She was running out of ammunition and steam at the same time. I smiled to myself, feeling somehow warmed at the thought that despite all of Matt and Calinda’s familiar bickering, there was real affection between them. I had just seen it this very evening, with my own eyes.

  Just then, I caught sight of Nathan. “’Scuse me, you two,” I said. “See you in the morning, Matt. Bye, Calinda.”

  “Nine o’clock,” he answered. “Mayor’s office.”

  I waved and hurried to catch up with Nathan. Adam Gaunt, Nathan’s recently deceased partner, was the one I really wanted to talk with, but I didn’t know how to find him. I hoped Nathan could give me a clue about how to find his dead partner, however unwittingly. “I’m so sorry about Adam,” I said when I reached Nathan.

  “Thanks,” he answered. He seemed nervous and distracted, but then, he had just lost his business partner and childhood friend.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him.

  “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

  “Let me help you,” I offered, steering him up onto the porch of Zaharako’s, just a couple of doors down. I settled him into an ice cream chair and offered to get him some coffee. In a state of shock, he accepted my offer and I quickly went to get him a cup from the ice cream shop’s ready supply.

  I placed the steaming mug on the wrought iron table in front of Nathan, and at that very moment caught sight of his dead partner. I could barely see the still-assimilating ghost, although he appeared to be somewhat more substantial than he had been that afternoon. Sitting high up among the branches of a tree across street, the newborn ghost of Adam Gaunt peered down on the activity below him, his eyes wide with horror.

  Chapter Five: Endangered Spirits

  Nathan was so dazed that he hardly noticed when I slipped away. I looked around me to be sure I wasn’t being watched and tried to be inconspicuous as I crossed the street and approached Mad River’s newest ghost, a ghost who appeared to be absolutely terrified.

  Unlike that afternoon, though, he appeared cognizant of me as I walked toward him. “What’s happening?” he asked. “Why can’t Nathan see me? Can you see me? You can see me!” he babbled. He was nearly out of his wits with fright. It wasn’t often I saw a frightened ghost.

  “It’s okay, Adam. You are Adam, aren’t you?” I asked quietly.

  He nodded. “What am I doing up here? What’s going on?”

  “Can you come down here, Adam?” I invited. He slid a little way down the trunk of the tree, closer to where I was. “Just a little closer? I won’t hurt you.” He obligingly drifted a little further down. “I have something to tell you,” I said.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “I’m Shelby Whitaker,” I told him. “I live in Mad River.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are you ready to listen to what I have to tell you?”

  “What is it?” he asked, appearing to calm just a little.

  “Come closer,” I said. When his frightened eyes were on a level with mine, I began. “I don’t know how to break this to you, and you’re probably not going to like it.”

  “I can take it,” he assured me in his whispery voice.

  “Brace yourself,” I said.

  “Go ahead,” he encouraged.

  He seemed to be taking strength from me offering him courage, and that encouraged me further. I took a deep breath and told him the truth. “Adam,” I said, “Adam, you’re dead.”

  He didn’t seem too surprised. “I thought so,” he said calmly. “But what do I do now?” Hearing the truth seemed to have given him something he had been lacking before, something real to hold onto perhaps.

  “I’m not sure,” I answered, “but maybe you could start by helping us find out how you died.”

  “I saw my body back there,” he said. “Scared me to death.” He laughed at his own joke, and I knew then he’d be okay.

  I chuckled, too. “It was pretty gruesome, I guess.” Then, “What happened?” I asked.

  “I swear I don’t know,” he said. “One minute I was looking at the camera, talking, and the next instant I was up near the ceiling, looking down on my own mangled body and watching everyone scramble around like mad trying to put me back together again.” He looked sad. “It was too late, though. That body was no longer habitable.”

  “That’s too bad, Adam,” I said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks,” he answer
ed. “Say,” he suddenly asked, “aren’t you still among the living? How come you can see me when nobody else can?”

  “I have a gift,” I told him. “I’ve always been able to see the dead, at least those that want to be seen.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah, my mom could do it, too.”

  “Did she teach you how?”

  “Not really. At least, not consciously for either of us. My sister can’t see ghosts, even though Mom could and I can.”

  “I always wanted to do that when I was alive.”

  “I do think more people would be able to do it if they would just, oh, I don’t know, open themselves up a little more.”

  He nodded as if he understood. “So let me get this straight,” he said.

  “I’m all ears,” I said.

  “So, I’m dead now.”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “And that means I’m a ghost.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s just too flippin’ weird,” he said. He appeared to think about that for a moment, then he asked, “Does that mean I can see other ghosts, too?”

  “Well, I think so,” I said. “At least, I think that’s how it works. Once you’re a ghost, you should be able to see other ghosts.”

  “Are there any others around here?”

  “Sure. Lots of them.”

  “Good. I have lots of questions I’m going to ask them when I find them.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I said, “and you shouldn’t have too long to wait. They’ve been looking for you.”

  “They have?”

  “Yes, they want to help you.”

  “How can I find them?”

  “Just keep watching. They’re bound to show up soon.”

  I couldn’t help but notice that everything that made me want to hate Adam Gaunt in life seemed to have disappeared in his transition to the nonphysical plane. As a matter of fact, I felt a little sorry for him. He seemed so soft, so lost and helpless. I hoped he wouldn’t revert to his old obnoxious ways once he made the full transition.

  ~.~

  I snooped around Mad River Old Town a bit more that night, even going so far as to walk through the alleyway behind the buildings to see if there were any clues there. There weren’t, at least none that I could see in the dark. I stopped back there to think it through. The stars were bright overhead and a sliver of moon was just rising above the rooftops. Back in the alleyway, peace reigned. The air smelled fresh and clean; there was no sign of blood or mayhem, no babble of anxious voices. I relished the moment and searched my mind for clues.

  Of the people I had talked with that evening, no one knew much, but everyone I talked with, living or dead, had a different theory about what had happened to Adam Gaunt and how. The ghosts were as confused as the living, but the general consensus among the ghosts was that somehow the living were responsible. Opinion among the living, however, was leaning toward blaming it all on the ghosts. Things were starting to get pretty ugly.

  In the midst of my ruminations I ran into Gladys Simmons, or rather she found me. I heard her cackle before I saw her ghostly form. A spinster who had died of a heart attack while the Battle of Mad River was raging, Gladys hung around Mad River because she had a crush on crotchety old Josiah, who whooshed away whenever he saw her coming. “Hi there, Gladys,” I said when I saw her.

  “Hello, young lady,” she answered. “What have you found out?”

  “Not much,” I said. “Everyone’s got a different opinion about what happened.”

  “Ain’t it the truth?” She swooped toward one end of the alley and then the other, as if to make sure we were alone. Swooping back to where I was, she leaned toward me and held her face close to mine. “They think we did it, don’t they?” she whispered.

  “Some do,” I agreed.

  “That’s just ridiculous.”

  “I know,” I said, “but they don’t know that.”

  “They don’t have to be afraid of us. There’s plenty of room in this town for everyone to live peacefully. Most of us are pretty nice, actually.”

  “I know, but some people, oh, I don’t know, how do I say this?”

  “Go ahead. Spit it out.”

  “Some people get kind of creeped out at the thought of ghosts.”

  “I know.”

  “They’re just scared because they know, deep down inside, they’ll be dead someday, too.”

  “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, that’s all it is, Gladys, but it doesn’t help much in a situation like this.”

  “You go tell them how it really is, Shelby.”

  “They wouldn’t believe me. They just think I’m weird.”

  “You are weird, young lady,” she cackled. “You can see us!”

  “What do you think happened, Gladys?”

  “I don’t know, but it wasn’t us,” she insisted. “You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I know that, but what did happen then? Who would have wanted Adam Gaunt dead? Help me think about this, Gladys.”

  She tittered. “Certainly most of the ladies wanted him alive that’s for sure.” She eyed me closely. “You didn’t trust him, though,” she said. “Why was that?”

  I ignored her insightful question. “Do you think there might have been a woman he jilted that could have planned to do him in?”

  “I suppose that could be the case,” she said thoughtfully, “but I didn’t see any women here today who weren’t all gaga over him.” She paused. “Except you,” she added, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “Oh, knock it off!” I said. “It wasn’t me.”

  She laughed. “Just kidding.”

  “C’mon, Gladys. Help me out here. Who else might have wanted Adam dead?”

  But I had suddenly lost her attention. Peering off into the distance, “Oh, there he is,” she cried. “I’ve been looking for Josiah all evening!” And before I knew it, she was gone.

  ~.~

  When I walked back around to the front of the general store things had calmed down a bit. Most people had wandered back to their homes to go to bed as the investigation inside the store continued through the night. It was nearly midnight and there appeared to be no letup in sight. Mad River’s finest still held sway in the store’s interior, and even the front porch had by then been taped off with crime tape. I caught sight of Nick through the store’s front windows, but he was busy and didn’t see me.

  Adam was no longer around, or at least I didn’t see him, and I hoped he had found or been found by other ghosts by then. Matt and Calinda had apparently gone home. George was there, sitting on the front steps in front of his store, along with Jimmy Gordon, Mad River’s deputy mayor. Jimmy’s esteem in the minds of the people of Mad River had dropped in recent months, due to the fact that it was his wife Nancy who had killed Jenny Tuckerman last spring during the Civil War reenactment. People still talked about Jimmy behind his back, as if it were his fault, but I personally don’t believe he had anything to do with Jenny’s death.

  George had apparently stopped at the bar on his way back over to the general store after giving his statement to the police, or wherever it was he had been earlier, as he appeared to be in quite a maudlin state. Jimmy seemed to be trying to talk some sense into him, but as anyone knows, you can’t reason with a drunk. Probably it was just that George was the only man left in town that Jimmy still felt comfortable hanging around with. I sure hoped it wouldn’t lead to Jimmy’s drinking heavily, too. As I watched, Wendy Carpenter approached the pair of them. I held my breath. Now what?

  Wendy addressed the two men in animated fashion. I was too far from them to hear everything she said, but I caught the words “ghosts” and “exorcism” and felt my insides clutch up with fear. I walked a little closer so as to better hear what they were saying. Nathan walked up from out of nowhere and enthusiastically chimed in. I was glad to see that he had recovered remarkably from the near stupor I had left him in at Zaharako’s. “That’s a great ide
a, Ms. Carpenter,” he was saying as I joined them, “and we could feature it on the show, too.”

  Jimmy was enthusiastic. “Best idea I’ve heard all day,” he said.

  “I’ve already checked with Reverend O’Dell,” Wendy said. “He said he would do it, George, and he’ll come talk with you about it in the morning.”

  George nodded as if he’d heard, but his cheeks were wet with drunken tears and I doubted he would remember anything at all about this conversation come morning. George nearly always got weepy when he was drunk, but he had a nasty temper when sober, so most of us preferred him liquored up.

  “I’ll be here in the morning, too,” Nathan offered. “I’m looking forward to meeting the good reverend.”

  I turned and headed for home in a state of high anxiety. I had thought that things were bad before, but they had just taken a serious turn for the worse. What on earth could I possibly do to protect my spirit friends from being exorcised?

  Chapter Six: Safety First

  I peeked in on Harriet when I got home. She was fast asleep in her bed, snoring softly. I tiptoed back down the stairs and went into the kitchen. It was tidy as always when Harriet had anything to say about it; I’m not so fastidious, but I try, for her sake, to clean up after myself. I was exhausted, but I was also famished. I hadn’t had anything to eat since I’d had lunch with Nick, and it was now one-thirty in the morning. I opened a can of soup, heated the contents in the microwave, slurped it down, and chased it with a glass of milk.

  Despite my worries, I was hoping to get a few hours’ sleep before morning, but Mad River’s ghosts had other ideas. For some reason, they thought that convening in my bedroom in the wee hours of that morning made perfect sense. I was just turning off my beside lamp and pulling the covers up around my ears when Mathias Sharp appeared near the foot of my bed. Great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather of my boss Matt, Mathias had been killed in battle at the fairly young age of twenty-nine. Feeling cheated out of life, he chose to stick around to make sure his heirs did well.