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Haunted Is Always in Fashion

Page 5

by Rose Pressey


  Juliana looked my way, but after a few seconds she turned and looked back through the window.

  “This hat is worth thousands of dollars.” I pointed to the computer screen.

  “Let me see that.” Charlotte leaned in for a closer look.

  Would that be reason enough for someone to kill Juliana? If so, no wonder Aunt Regina wanted the hat. Would her own aunt kill her for the hat?

  * * *

  A man walked into the shop and immediately started sorting through the rack of clothing on the left. He hadn’t looked at the back of the store to notice me. Wind Song jumped from her spot at the window and moved so fast across the room that if I hadn’t known better, I would have thought a ghost was chasing her. But Charlotte and Juliana were next to me. Wind Song stared right at the man.

  “She’s acting strange,” Charlotte said. “Well, strange for her, I mean. She is a psychic cat.”

  For heaven’s sake, if I’d known a short time ago what craziness I’d become involved in, I wouldn’t have believed it. I moved around the counter to help my customer instead of staring at him as if he was from another planet. Juliana and Charlotte were behind me, but Wind Song stayed on the counter, preferring to watch from a distance.

  “He’s probably looking for a dress for his girlfriend,” Charlotte said.

  The man was tall with dark hair. A small beard covered his chin and small portion of his cheeks. He finally glanced up when I approached. As I got closer to him, Wind Song meowed as if warning me to be careful. She’d never done that before.

  “Welcome to It’s Vintage Y’all. May I help you find something?” I asked.

  He smiled immediately. “Good afternoon. I didn’t know anyone was in the store.”

  Charlotte stood next to me, eying him up and down. “Ask him what he wants,” she pushed.

  I was glad he couldn’t see her and I gave her a look when he glanced at the clothing rack for a brief second. Unfortunately, he caught me in the act.

  Knowing it would be hard to explain, I pretended nothing had happened. I hoped he’d forget.

  “Way to chase customers away by making them think you’re weird, Cookie.”

  As if it wasn’t her fault it happened in the first place.

  I turned back to the customer. “Are you looking for something for your mother? Sister? Girlfriend?” I had the feeling he was looking for something specific.

  Charlotte and Juliana stood next to me, waiting for him to answer.

  He glanced around the room. “Do you have hats?”

  Charlotte gasped. I was lucky I’d been able to keep myself from making the same sound. This was too weird. What a coincidence that he would be interested in hats too.

  I stared at him entirely too long. I had to answer. “Yes, I have a few. They’re right over here.” I moved toward the rack that displayed the hats.

  He followed me over to the area. Charlotte and Juliana fell into stride beside us.

  “Is there a certain style of hat you’re looking for?”

  If he only knew the way Charlotte and Juliana were eyeing him. I was sure my expression matched theirs. As he peered down at the hats, Charlotte and I exchanged a look.

  After a couple seconds, the man looked up at me. “Are these the only ones you have?”

  “I believe so. I may have a few in the back that I haven’t gone through yet.”

  His eyes widened. “Would you be able to do that now?”

  I really wanted to accommodate my customers, but I had no one to look after the store while I dug through boxes. “I’m sorry, but they are in boxes. I’d be happy to take a look the first chance I get and give you a call . . . if you could tell me what style you’re looking for.”

  Charlotte and Juliana leaned in closer, as if they would hear better that way. They were already as close as they could get.

  The man scowled. “Are you sure you can’t look now?”

  “He must really want a hat,” Charlotte said.

  I motioned across the room. “I don’t have anyone to watch the store. I promise to call as soon as I can.”

  “I could watch the store for you,” he said.

  “I knew this guy was crazy,” Charlotte said.

  “I’m sorry I can’t do that,” I said.

  He stared at me for a moment and my heart beat a little faster. He was beginning to creep me out.

  Finally, he said, “Sure, I understand. My name’s Victor Patrick, by the way. I’ll write down my number and you can call me.”

  “That will work. Yes, I’ll call you.”

  “I would lose his number if I were you, Cookie.” Charlotte tapped her fingers against the counter.

  “I agree,” Juliana added.

  That might be the first thing they’d agreed on since meeting. I moved toward the counter to grab a notepad and pen.

  “I wouldn’t turn my back on him, Cookie,” Charlotte said.

  He seemed a little weird, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to label him a serial killer just yet. After all, he’d only asked for a hat.

  I wrote his name on the paper and then peered up at him. “What’s your number?” After giving it to me, I asked, “You didn’t tell me exactly what kind of hat you’re looking for.”

  “I can’t wait to hear this,” Charlotte added.

  “He can’t possibly be looking for the same hat,” Juliana said.

  “So trusting and naïve,” Charlotte said. “You’ll learn soon enough.”

  He shrugged. “I guess I’ll know it when I see it.”

  “There’s something strange about this guy.” Charlotte said that about everyone. She walked around him, looking him up and down.

  We watched him walk out the door.

  I’d have to find out who he was. At least I had his name. I’d do a quick search and see what I could find.

  Wind Song pawed at my arm.

  “What’s wrong, Wind Song? You couldn’t possibly want more food.”

  She meowed loudly and looked at the door. I knew instantly what she wanted.

  Chapter 9

  Cookie’s Savvy Tips for Vintage Shopping

  Buying vintage jewelry can be

  an inexpensive way to start

  a vintage collection.

  I picked up the phone and dialed.

  Heather answered on the first ring. “What’s up?”

  “Bring the Ouija board,” I said.

  “You really need to keep a Ouija board over there so you don’t have to borrow mine.”

  “You know you want to see what the cat has to say too.”

  She was silent for a moment. “I’ll be there in two seconds.”

  Heather wanted me to get a Ouija board, but I was still holding onto the notion that maybe bad spirits would slip through just by having it in my place. If she wanted one in her shop that was her choice.

  It was longer than two seconds, but not by much. Heather’s blond hair was braided to one side. Wearing a long blue skirt and a white tank top, she’d gone for the whimsical look. When she was around my mother, everyone always thought Heather was her daughter. They discussed incense and herbs. I preferred to discuss fabric and the cut of a dress.

  Wind Song meowed and leapt onto the counter as soon as she saw Heather. It still amazed me how smart the cat was, almost as if there was a human stuck in there.

  “Does Wind Song have a message for you?” Heather asked as she placed the board onto the counter.

  The cat positioned her body in front of it right away.

  “A strange man was just in here and I know Wind Song didn’t like him.” I stroked the cat’s head.

  Heather quirked and eyebrow. “Interesting. What did he want?”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “A hat.”

  Heather stared for a moment. “Is that it?”

  With no patience at all, Charlotte said, “You’ll have to explain it to her or this could take all day. I don’t have that kind of time.”

  “Charlotte, you have all the time it the wor
ld,” I said.

  She huffed. “Never mind.”

  I explained to Heather. “Juliana’s aunt wanted a hat that was in Juliana’s car. I just think it’s strange that someone else would ask about a hat.”

  Wind Song placed her pretty paw onto the planchette and moved it across the board. It had taken awhile, but I was kind of getting used to seeing that.

  “What’s she doing?” Juliana asked.

  “The cat gives messages through the board,” Charlotte said as she leaned against the counter.

  Juliana laughed. When we didn’t return the laughter, she said, “You’re serious?”

  “Would she really make up nonsense like that?” Charlotte asked.

  Juliana sighed. “No, I suppose not.”

  Wind Song stopped on the letter H. Next, she moved to the letter A and then on to the letter T. She licked her paws, giving the signal that she was finished with the message.

  “Hat,” Heather said.

  “Great. Heather can spell,” Charlotte said.

  The word lingered in the air.

  Wind Song hadn’t even been there when Regina mentioned the hat. Perhaps she’d been paying attention to the conversation around the shop after all.

  “What about the hat, Wind Song?” I asked. “You have to tell us more.”

  I already knew there was something going on with a hat, but I needed to know what it meant. Wind Song listened to me and started moving the planchette again. We watched with bated breath as she went from letter to letter. Heather wrote down the message on her notepad as if she was Wind Song’s assistant.

  When the cat finally stopped, Heather said, “Find the hat.”

  I blew the hair out of my eyes. “How will I find the hat?”

  “The one that the police have?” Heather asked.

  “Yes. It will be hard to get them to release that hat to me.”

  “It won’t be hard,” Charlotte said.

  “Oh, yeah?” I asked.

  “It’ll be impossible.” Charlotte tossed her hands up.

  I gave her the look. “Thanks for making me feel better, Charlotte.”

  “Honey, I’m just being honest with you.” Her accent dripped with honey.

  “How does the cat know this?” Juliana asked.

  “What are they saying?” Heather asked.

  I explained the conversation.

  “We don’t know where Wind Song came from, but we’re trying to figure it out.” I rubbed the cat’s head. She purred and then rubbed against my hand.

  I might not be able to get the hat, but I’d have to find out what was so important about it. Regina had mentioned it, the cat and a stranger were asking for a hat. That had to mean something.

  “Is it just because the hat is valuable?” Juliana asked.

  Charlotte played with Wind Song. “It’s not worth that much. Not enough for someone to ask about it like that.”

  “Charlotte’s right. There has to be more to it than money.” I peered down at the Ouija board.

  Charlotte brushed the bangs out of her eyes. “You’d be surprised what people will do for money. And not much of it either.”

  “We’ll figure it out, Cookie. Don’t worry,” Heather said.

  Chapter 10

  Charlotte’s Tips for a Fashionable Afterlife

  Shopping for sale items

  is no longer needed either.

  After coming home from work and cooking dinner of citrus glazed chicken and homemade biscuits, I decided to spend the evening researching the hat. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure where to start. How many had been made? What was so special about it? I’d looked everywhere on the Internet and still hadn’t found exactly what I was looking for.

  “When are you going to give up on finding that hat?” Charlotte was a little shocked at how much I had researched the hat.

  “When I find the answer,” I said, pulling a book out from the old trunk in my bedroom. “You should know that by now.”

  “I appreciate all the help,” Juliana put in.

  “She wasn’t nearly as helpful with finding my killer. I had to push and push.” Charlotte’s brow furrowed.

  “I’ve gotten a lot better at my detective work now,” I said as I walked back into the living room.

  “Lucky for Juliana.”

  I plopped down in the oversized chair. All the research hadn’t gotten me anywhere. I tried not to become discouraged. If the book didn’t help, I’d just have to think of something else.

  Flipping through the book, I held out little hope that I would find what I was looking for.

  * * *

  It was getting late and I only had a few pages left. I knew I’d be disappointed, but I needed to get to bed anyway. I flipped the next page and screamed.

  Charlottes screamed and clutched her chest. “Oh my stars, what is it? Why are you screaming like that?”

  I tapped the page. “It’s the hat.”

  Charlotte and Juliana rushed over.

  “I don’t believe that. You can’t be serious,” Charlotte said.

  “See for yourself.” I held the book up, pointing to the hat.

  Juliana leaned closer. “It’s the hat. The exact one.”

  I must admit I was pretty proud of my accomplishment. I hadn’t given up.

  “What does it say about the hat?” Charlotte asked.

  I tapped the page. “This book was printed in 2006 and I bet it’s worth even more money now.”

  “How much is it worth?” Juliana asked.

  “Well, it was one thousand back then. I bet it’s up to two thousand now.”

  “What makes that hat so special?” Charlotte asked.

  “What makes this hat special is the designer. The site I looked at earlier had it wrong.” I knew my teasing tone would get to Charlotte.

  Charlotte leaned closer. “Who’s the designer?”

  I knew that would interest her. “The hat is Hermès.”

  Charlotte gasped. “Wow. Hermès.”

  “I thought you’d appreciate that.”

  Charlotte paced around the room as I stared at the book. “Cookie, it’s great what you did.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  She held up her hand. “Let me finish.”

  I should’ve known there would be more.

  “The hat is only worth a couple thousand. I think you’re hinting that Juliana was murdered for the hat.”

  “Way to burst my bubble, Charlotte,” I said.

  She waved her hand. “I’m only speaking the truth. You have to look at all the facts.”

  “Well, Victor and”—I looked over at Juliana—“Regina were asking about the hat. That seems odd.”

  “Regina wouldn’t want to murder me,” Juliana said.

  I felt bad for implying that her aunt would do something like that. The harsh reality was that sometimes the one who supposedly loved the victim was actually the murderer.

  “Sometimes it happens,” Charlotte said.

  “You’re completely right,” Juliana said.

  Would that be reason enough for someone to kill Juliana? Would her own aunt kill her for the hat? Hadn’t anyone witnessed the murder?

  The doorbell rang and we all looked at each other.

  “Who could be here this late at night?” Charlotte asked.

  That spoke volumes about my social life.

  “Maybe it’s Heather,” Juliana said.

  Wind Song jumped off the sofa and raced to the front door. She did that for only one person.

  My heart beat a little faster at the thought. “I must look a mess,” I said as I tried to smooth down my hair.

  Charlotte quirked an eyebrow. I hurried over to the door. It was too dark to see without switching on the light. When I flooded the porch with the light, Dylan’s face was looking back at me.

  When I opened the door, he was standing in front of me.

  “Wow, I didn’t expect to see you.” I was already in my jammies. The pink ones with the bunnies on them. Dylan was
wearing vintage.

  “Well, doesn’t he know the way to your heart.” Charlotte smirked.

  “That’s about the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. He’s a dreamboat,” Juliana said. “Did I use that word correctly? That’s what they used to say, right?”

  Charlotte laughed. “Yes, that’s what they said.”

  Wearing the brown pants and white shirt that he’d bought from my shop, Dylan stepped into the living room and looked around. Wind Song jumped up and ran over to him as if she hadn’t seen him in years. She weaved around his legs and purred.

  “I think she likes you,” I said.

  “What’s not to like?” Charlotte said.

  “What brings you by tonight?” I caught myself twisting a strand of hair around my finger like a teenager with a crush. I stopped, hoping that he hadn’t noticed.

  “Did I disturb you? I should have called first,” Dylan said.

  “No, I wasn’t busy.” I glanced over at my laptop.

  Charlotte chuckled. “You got that right.”

  “I’m glad you came by.” I really meant that.

  “Don’t just stand there, offer the young man a refreshment.” Charlotte held her hand up to her forehead as if she might faint. “I swear I have to do everything.”

  “Would you like to have a seat?” I gestured.

  “Actually, I had something else in mind.”

  “Oh, maybe we should leave the room,” Charlotte said.

  The next thing I knew, Charlotte and Juliana had vanished. He moved over to the table and placed his phone down. Music came from the tiny speaker. It was loud enough for us though. “Moonlight Serenade” by Glen Miller filled the room.

  Dylan held his hand out to me. “May I have this dance?”

  The smile on my face was instantaneous. “Yes, you may.”

  He pulled me close to his body.

  Charlotte and Juliana peeked around the corner. Charlotte gave a thumbs up and then they disappeared again. Dylan’s cologne was intoxicating. My body was next to his as we swayed back and forth to the music.

  “You’re a good dancer,” I said.

  Dylan smiled a little sheepishly. “I had to take ballroom dancing in college. It was the only class I could get in and I needed the credit.”

 

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