Read Nothing to Ghost About Online

Authors: Morgana Best

Tags: #ghosts, #occult, #paranormal, #supernatural, #ghost, #cozy mystery, #ghostly, #witches and wizards, #mystery supernatural, #cozy animals

Nothing to Ghost About (8 page)

BOOK: Nothing to Ghost About
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Thank you,” Mom said to
him in an imperious tone.

And then it dawned on me. Helen was
someone of importance, and my mother loved to make herself seem
important as well. Apparently, Mom needed to pretend that we had a
butler or a servant to impress the mayor’s wife.

I dragged my eyes away from Ian with
some difficulty, and turned my attention to the matter at hand.
“Helen, I actually saw you not too long ago.”


The funeral,” Helen said,
nodding.


The clown funeral?” my
mother asked, horror-stricken.

Helen looked thoroughly confused. “The
clown funeral?”


No, it was the one before
that,” I told Mom. “That man who was hit by a car.”

Mom turned to Helen. “You knew
him?”


The deceased man was a
criminal,” I said to no one in particular. “He was a famous jewel
thief. He’d been released from prison only recently.”

Helen nodded. “Yes. Some years ago,
before he was arrested, he broke into our home and stole jewelry
from me.”

My mother gasped and held her hand
over her heart. “That’s terrible,” she said. “I will think and pray
for you.”

Helen shrugged. “Thank you, Thelma,
but it was some time ago, after all. He never did say where the
jewelry was. I doubt it will ever be recovered. Of course, he was
involved in organized crime, so who knows what happened to
it?”


That’s terrible,” Mom said
again, shaking her head. “Thieves will not inherit the kingdom of
God. I shall take comfort from the fact that he will suffer eternal
torture while burning in hell.”

I ignored her and spoke to Helen. “So
he wasn’t a friend of yours?” I asked, knowing full well that he
wasn’t. “I mean, with you going to the funeral and all.”

Helen flushed beet red. “My husband
was very angry…” Her voice trailed away, and she cast her eyes
downward at the table.


Your husband was angry?” I
prompted.


Oh yes, Gregory was
furious. The jewelry was actually his mother’s. She left it to me
when she died. Don’t quote me on this, but his mother was miserable
and mean to me when she was alive, so it wasn’t anything I
treasured. Gregory worshiped his mother, though, and I’ve never
seen him so mad. He’s still hounding the police to track down the
jewelry.”

I nodded. I still had no idea why
Helen had attended the funeral.

Thankfully, she continued. “Gregory
was going to attend the funeral, to see if he could get any clues
as to Alec Mason’s associates. He figured the murderer would be
there, and he figured that the murderer would inherit the organized
crime business. He thought that the man would know where his
mother’s jewelry was.”

I was shocked. “So he sent you in to
spy for him?”

Helen shook her head. “No, nothing
like that. Gregory was called away on urgent business at the last
minute, so I decided to go, to help him. He wasn’t happy when he
found out. He said it was dangerous, and he was right, considering
what happened to the funeral singer.”

I nodded. I had been so engrossed in
conversation that I hadn’t noticed Ian appearing with
dessert.


You are better off without
jewelry,” he said to Helen. “God probably wanted the jewelry to be
stolen.”

I couldn’t help myself. I just had to
ask. “How do you figure that, Ian?”

He looked pleased to be asked.
“Because the Apostle Paul threw everything into the sea when he was
about to be shipwrecked. He threw the cargo and the ship’s tackle
overboard. Don’t you see?”


No,” I said,
truthfully.

Ian shook his head. “Paul could not be
saved unless he got rid of all his possessions. So that proves that
God doesn’t want us to have possessions.”

I frowned. “Ian, you’re driving a car.
Does that mean you should walk everywhere?”


Stop annoying the help,
Laurel,” Mom said, “and don’t be so smart. You know a car is not
part of a ship’s tackle.”

Ian disappeared back into the kitchen
with a flourish of his black, frilly apron. I put my head in my
hands and sighed.

 

 

Chapter 11

I checked the time on my iPhone as I
made my way down the sidewalk. I was a few minutes early for coffee
with Tara, but that was just enough time to get a table. I was
particularly looking forward to it because our recent girls’ night
out had been partly ruined by Basil and his hot date, not to
mention my encounter with Basil afterward—and what a disaster that
had been!

I tried to force it from my mind. I
had already let Basil ruin one outing. I thought I’d had chemistry
with him, but that was apparently nothing compared to whatever he
had with the journalist. I was mortified that I’d kissed him back,
only to be dismissed in such a way.

Despite my best efforts, the only
thing I managed to think about on my walk was Basil. I wasn’t in a
good mood. For one, it was a particularly glary day. I took off my
sunglasses and wiped them on a tissue. I held them up to the sun,
and could see that they still needed a good clean. I walked a few
more steps without them, but was forced to squint at the glare
reflected off every available surface: windows, chrome, and passing
cars. I put them back on, smudges and all.

My nerves were on edge, and the
grating sound of a truck using its compression brakes went right
through my head, as did the loud abuse hurled at the truck driver
by the pedestrian who was half way across the road at the
time.

I cheered up when I caught the scent
of good coffee carried down the street on a good breeze, the same
breeze that moments later caught my skirt along with a dozen or so
discarded chocolate wrappers.

I was so intent upon holding down my
skirt that at first I did not identify the man walking toward me.
When recognition dawned, I broke out in a cold sweat. What to do?
Should I cross the street? Slap myself on the forehead as if I’d
forgotten something, and then hurry back the way I’d
come?

I shook my head. Basil was the one in
the wrong. He should be the one to duck into a shop. Still, if I
hesitated any longer, we might actually have to talk to one
another. Just the thought of it made me sick to my
stomach.


Laurel!” Basil waved to
me, and then hurried down the sidewalk. “I’m glad I ran into
you.”

The nerve of the
man
, I thought.
He’s acting as if nothing happened the other
night!

I greeted him with a curt nod and
tried to act normal. If he was going to act as if nothing happened,
then so was I. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of
seeing how much it bothered me.


Did you see Anna’s article
this morning?”

Of course it would be
about Anna
, I thought with irritation. I
gave him a tight smile. “Yes. It was favorable, thank
goodness.”

Basil appeared to be surprised at my
indifference. “I think it turned out wonderfully. She highlighted
the celebrity funerals in a positive manner. In fact, she didn’t
mention the murders at all.”

I resisted the urge to say something
catty. “I’ll call her and thank her.”

Basil was still talking. “She’s a
sharp journalist, but even she can be reasoned with. Although, I
must say, it wasn’t easy talking her out of using the murders in
her article.”

I narrowed my eyes and
glared at him. Did he want me to thank him? He seemed a little too
proud of that statement. And exactly how had he talked her out of
using the murders in her article? An awful image popped into my
head of Basil and Anna sharing
a hug, of
Basil holding her the way he had held me that night.


Laurel?” His voice jolted
me back into the moment.

I realized I had zoned out. “Thanks. I
appreciate you talking to her,” I said after an
interval.


You’re welcome.” He smiled
the way he used to smile at me.

He was a confusing, contradictory man.
Was he an evil twin, or did he have multiple personality disorder?
It was all too much. The silence hung between us. The moment
couldn’t have been more awkward.

Basil was the one to break the
silence. “Laurel, I wanted to talk about the other
night.”

I shook my head. “I’m about to meet
someone for coffee. I can’t be late.”


Meet someone?” he asked
with a measure of surprise. An odd look crossed his
face.

If I were feeling hopeful, I would
have sworn that it looked like jealousy. Whatever he was feeling
quickly vanished. “Of course. I apologize for holding you up.
Perhaps we could talk later?”

I brushed by him and hurried away. It
wasn’t the most mature way to break off a conversation, but I’d had
about as much as I could take.

Tara was already there. “I’ve already
ordered you a latte and a macaroon,” she said, sporting a whipped
froth mustache from her energetic gulping. “What’s wrong? I thought
you’d be a lot happier today. I saw the newspaper article on your
business. Things seem to be looking up!”

I sat down and wrapped my
hands around my latte. “I
am
happy about it. It’s great news. By the way, you
have a froth mustache.”

Tara dabbed at her mouth with a
napkin. “Seriously, you’re pale. Is anything wrong?”

I shook my head.

Tara’s expression was skeptical. “Now
spill. You’ve been off ever since we saw Basil and that newspaper
chick together. What’s up?”

I took a sip of my latte and then set
down the glass. “Okay. Well, you know how I walked home that
night?”

Tara nodded.


Basil drove past and said
he’d give me a ride home. He walked me to the door, and then he
kissed me.”


He what?” Tara shrieked.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”


Shush!” I looked around
the coffee shop, but no one was staring. “I was too upset. He
kissed me and then said we could never be together.”

Tara leaned across the table. “You’re
kidding, right?”

I shook my head.


Are we talking a peck on
the check, or a real kiss?”


A real kiss,” I said. “And
then he said, ‘We can’t be together. I’m sorry.’”


And then what happened?
Why didn’t you tell me?”


I hurried inside and shut
the door, and the answer to your second question is that I was too
upset. I could hardly bring myself to think about it, much less
speak about it.” I took a bite of the macaroon, but all I could
taste was cardboard. I knew it should be tasty. I could smell the
flavor locked in the moist center. I could feel the slight crisp of
the outer shell give way to a warm frosting center. Yet it might as
well have been glue. “And I saw him just now. He said he wanted to
talk about it.”


Basil actually wanted
to
talk
about it?”
Tara asked incredulously. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”


It’s over with.” I dabbed
at my eyes with a crumpled tissue. “I’m just mad that I let it get
to me at all.”

Tara waved her hands in the air. “Why
wouldn’t it get to you? It’s not like you waved a neon sign in his
face and said, ‘Kiss me, dum-dum.’”

I had to laugh.


Seriously though, that’s
so weird. Why would he kiss you if he didn’t want to?”

I shrugged. I’d replayed the scene a
thousand times in my head, and then a thousand more for good
measure. No matter how I looked at it, I was still no closer to an
answer. Nothing about it made sense. “He probably had someone else
on his mind.”

Tara tapped a finger against her
cheek. “No, he’s not going to kiss you just because he didn’t kiss
her. That makes no sense. He did have a bad breakup some time back.
Men never seem to get over bad breakups as well as women do.
Perhaps he’s still upset over that. It might not be anything to do
with Anna Stiles.”

I abandoned my attempt to eat the
macaroon and put what was left of it on my plate. “I don’t know,
Tara. I’d rather not think of what they did and did not do. It’s
not my business, either way.”


I’m just saying that maybe
there is more to everything than meets the eye. He might have a
really good reason for how he’s acting,” Tara mused.


Maybe. But unless he has
an evil twin that escaped from the attic that night, I can’t see
anything he could come up with that would make it okay.”

Tara laughed. “I think an evil twin
would make it worse. It’s bad enough trying to figure out just one
of him.”


I’ll drink to that!” I
lifted my coffee in a toast, and then took a hearty gulp. “To
change the subject, has Duncan said anything else about the
case?”

Tara shook her head. “And you said
that you don’t suspect the mayor’s wife anymore?”


I’m starting to think
perhaps it was the mayor,” I said in a low voice. “Helen said he
was the one who was upset about the jewelry theft. She said the
jewelry had belonged to his mother. From what Helen said, she
didn’t get along with her mother-in-law. So, bottom line, Helen
didn’t care one bit about the jewelry, and it was her husband who
was so upset.”

BOOK: Nothing to Ghost About
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ads

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