Haunt Couture and Ghosts Galore (5 page)

Chapter 8

 

 

A shabby-chic
WELCOME
sign hung on my front door, greeting customers. The
IT'S VINTAGE, Y'LL
sign dangled above the door and was something I was most proud of. I smiled every time I saw it. My shop was located in the ideal location in the main artery of historic downtown. Magnolia trees lined the sidewalks, and old buildings took up space all along the streets. A parade of orange and yellow chrysanthemums in spectacular bloom decorated the sidewalks along with black iron benches for people who wanted to rest before strolling into the next little boutique. Sugar Creek had everything from antique stores, a diner, coffee shops, to beauty parlors.

The town wasn't without a little spookiness either. Just a few blocks from my place was an old cemetery. Spanish moss–covered oak trees concealed its entrance. The place had always caused me to have a case of the heebie-jeebies. As kids we dared each other to walk by. I always chickened out even if the bet meant candy.

It's Vintage, Y'all was in a cottage-style building. The façade was painted a soft lavender with white trim on the windows and door. The front windows stretched all the way to the floor, allowing maximum space for displaying the clothing for sale inside. For the dog days of summer, my windows featured a back-to-school theme, but I'd change that soon to reflect the coming fall season. I'd gotten an old desk from a flea market and placed an apple on top. The mannequins had been dressed in plaids with colors like navy blue, red, and white.

I usually featured a mixture of clothing in the windows, like dresses, skirts, pants, sweaters, blouses, and suits. In the summer months, I even included swimsuits. I loved vintage swimwear. It was fun to look at how much it had changed over the years.

“Okay, so let me get settled and I'll find the list of names.” I released Wind Song from her carrier and she strolled over to her favorite spot in the sunshine.

“Fair enough,” Sam said.

Charlotte lounged on the velvet settee as if she were a queen. “Sounds fine.”

I went through my normal routine of tagging new items, sorting through clothing to be moved to the markdown rack, and packaging up online orders for delivery. Now it was time for an outfit change for the mannequins in the shop's windows. Since it was nearing fall, I thought I would find some of my favorite sweaters for the display. I pulled out the darker colors for the coming season like golds, emeralds, and reds.

I'd decided to decorate the windows with leaves and white and orange pumpkins. On one of the mannequins I added a pair of black wool and cashmere straight-legged, fully lined pants. Pants were one of the most popular items I sold in the shop. After all, a stylish pair of pants is a key part of every woman's wardrobe. Well-made pants were one of the best investments made.

On another mannequin, I placed a rich maroon Christin Dior pencil skirt with a lovely white peplum blouse that featured a small, flat collar and lovely filigree buttons down the front. The style was flattering to the figure and went well with the formfitting skirt. The shirt didn't have a label and I suspected it had been handmade, but that didn't make it any less gorgeous.

In the other window I had an emerald green Bonnie Cashin wool plaid pleated skirt. The classic skirt featured a wrap waist with two double-tab closures in the back. The rich green had gold, blue, and black colors threaded through to make the plaid pattern. I paired the skirt with an adorable seventies sweater by the same designer. The petite collar had a scalloped trim and the antique white fabric featured three decorative buttons along the neckline. My favorite part of the sweater was the ribbed waistband. I thought it was a flattering touch to the overall look.

Once all the clothing had been positioned in the windows, I stepped back to study my work. The bell on the door jingled and caught my attention. Heather bounced through the door this time. She wore dark blue jeans and a white cable knit sweater. Her hair was braided in the back.

“Oh, I love your black boots.” I pointed to her newest fashion purchase.

Heather thrust her long leg forward and modeled the tall boots. “Aren't they great? I got them last night on sale. I told you that you should have come shopping with me.”

I moved away from the window toward the counter in the middle of the room. “I wish I could have come. I'm sure it would have been better than what I did,” I said.

Heather glanced back at Wind Song. “Have you asked her yet?” she whispered.

“Have I asked her about the murder?” I cleared off space on the counter. “No.”

Of course, I still felt a little ridiculous about asking the cat questions. Soon after she had appeared in my life, she had shown her psychic abilities. The cat jumped from her favorite spot by the window. She'd grown accustomed to using the Ouija board and tarot cards, and I actually think she enjoyed it. I wasn't sure which one was her favorite. She seemed to like them equally.

“What have you got for the cat this time?” I asked Heather.

Heather pulled the Ouija board from her bag. “Nothing unusual, just the Ouija board.”

“Nothing unusual? I'd say the cat using the board is a little unusual,” I said.

“Well, of course, but at least we've seen her do it before.” Heather placed the board on the counter.

Wind Song jumped up and made her usual graceful stroll over to us. In one giant leap she was on top of the counter in front of the board.

“Looks like she's ready,” Sam said as he moved closer to the action.

Heather placed the planchette on top of the board. Wind Song immediately positioned her delicate paw on it. We waited with bated breath to see what message the cat would relay. Wind Song moved the thing around the board at a steady pace. Heather had a pen and paper ready to jot down the message. We exchanged a look.

“Does she always take this long?” Sam asked.

“Not usually,” I said.

Finally Wind Song stopped on a letter. F was the first letter. She moved on to the next, which was A. By the time she was at H, I knew she was spelling FASHION. Wind Song started moving the planchette again, though, so I knew she wasn't finished. There was another word with the first. This time she spelled out SHOW.

“Fashion show?” Heather asked.

Wind Song looked directly at Heather and meowed.

“I guess that was a yes,” Charlotte said.

Wind Song glanced at me and then jumped down from the counter. She strolled back to her favorite spot in the sun. Right before closing her eyes, she looked at me again.

“Wow. Even the cat wants you to investigate the murder,” Sam said.

“Do you think that's what she meant?” I asked.

Charlotte threw her hands up. “Of course that's what she meant.”

“What did she mean?” Heather asked.

“That I should continue to investigate the murder.”

“I wish she'd told us more,” Heather said.

Charlotte leaned against the counter. “Well, people in hell want ice water, but that's not happening. We have to take what we can get.”

Heather picked up the board and placed it back in the bag. “Maybe she'll have more for us if we wait a while.”

I blew out a deep breath. “I just don't know how long we have to wait though.”

Heather frowned. “I understand, but at least you're helping Hannah.”

“I don't even know if I should be helping her. What if I'm helping a killer?”

Charlotte studied her fingernails. “That would be bad.”

“I know you'll figure things out. I'm off to work. Call me later?” Heather asked.

“Talk to you soon,” I said.

Wind Song's message had been vague, but I had a feeling it was something important.

Once Heather left, Charlotte asked, “What does Wind Song mean? You're surrounded by fashion; it will be hard to narrow it down.”

Charlotte was right, it would be hard, but I would have to try.

“Well, she is just a cat; like you said, I guess we're lucky to get any message at all.”

Chapter 9

 

 

After sorting through the invoices for the day, I grabbed my purse and keys. “It's time to go, everyone.”

I knew it would be pointless to try to leave them behind. Charlotte and Sam followed me out the door and I locked up. Sam slipped into the backseat only after he'd made sure Charlotte was safely in the front seat.

As I pulled away from the curb, Charlotte asked, “Where are you going?”

“Home,” I said without looking over at her.

“You can't go home now.”

“She's right, now is not the time to take a rest,” Sam insisted.

“I have to go home. I have work to do.”

“You have other work that is more important.” Charlotte glared at me.

I steered onto Magnolia Street. “Here's what I'll do.”

“I don't like the sound of this,” Charlotte said.

“I'll call the models on my list when I get home.”

In all honesty I wanted to hear what the models had to say just as much as Sam and Charlotte did.

Charlotte sighed. “I suppose that will work.”

I glanced in the rearview mirror.

“Works for me,” Sam said. “After all, it is rude to just pop in uninvited.”

“Exactly,” I said as I pulled onto my street.

I lived in a two-story white cottage. Pink asters in cute little white pots flanked the front door. During the summer, I had kitschy pink flamingos in the front landscaping, but since fall was coming, I had added pumpkins on my front porch. The flamingos would have to wait until spring to make an appearance again.

After letting Wind Song out of her cage, I slipped into my favorite pink pajamas: the ones with the pastel-colored macaroons on them. For dinner, I decided to have some of the leftover vegetarian black-bean chili I'd made the other day. I'd made a little too much, so I'd have to take the extra to Heather. I'd never eat it all by myself. Heather always loved my homemade chili. It was my mother's recipe. I'd also made jalapeño cheddar cornbread.

Once I'd prepared dinner, I settled into my favorite living-room chair to do a little blogging. I'd spotted new celebrity photos of the stars wearing vintage items and I couldn't wait to post them. Charlotte and Sam sat across from me on the sofa while I worked. I tried to ignore their stares, but I felt their eyes on me. Charlotte and Sam stood at the same time and began walking back and forth across the living-room floor.

After finishing my chili, I got sick of their pacing and picked up my phone to place the calls.

“It's about time. I thought you'd never take the hint,” Charlotte pronounced.

“You weren't exactly subtle about it,” I said.

Sam and Charlotte stood nearby so that they could hear every word of my end of the conversation. I suppose I could have put it on speakerphone for them, but that might only encourage them to want me to do more snooping tonight. That was not happening if I had anything to say about it.

After finding the paper with the names that Melanie had given me, I went down the list, but I wasn't having much luck getting in touch with any of the models. Ten minutes had passed without an answer. I was ready to give up, but I had one more call to place. Jamie Meyer answered on the second ring. Now that I had her on the line, I really had no idea what I was going to say.

“My name is Cookie Chanel,” I said.

“Oh, I remember you. The vintage clothing, right?” she asked.

“Yes, that's me.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Everything is fine. I just wondered if I could meet with you to discuss the show.”

“Put her on speakerphone so we can hear,” Charlotte urged.

I knew I would regret this, but Charlotte's sad eyes and Sam's frown made me feel guilty. I pushed the button and Jamie's voice could now be heard throughout my living room. Charlotte and Sam smiled.

“Does this have anything to do with Melanie's murder? Because I really don't want to talk about it.” Her voice quavered with apprehension.

“Tell her no,” Sam urged.

I didn't want to lie, but I knew if I said yes she wouldn't meet with me.

“No.” My voice was less than confident with my answer.

“Okay, I guess I could meet you tomorrow. Can you come by my place?” she asked.

I jotted down her address and hung up.

“Great job,” Sam said.

“I thought you were going to pass out there for a minute when you had to lie to her.” Charlotte laughed.

“That's it. I'm going to bed.” I stifled a yawn as I jumped up from my seat.

Now that I had set up a meeting, I hoped that Charlotte and Sam would let me go to bed without any interruptions. All I wanted was a full eight hours of sleep.