Haunt Couture and Ghosts Galore (6 page)

Chapter 10

 

 

The next morning the sun streamed through my window. I jumped up ready to take on the day. First, I'd hit the estate sale I'd found in the paper last night and then the meeting with Jamie Meyer. My visit with her would make the ghosts happy, but I honestly didn't think I'd learn anything new by talking with her. She'd already said she didn't want to discuss Melanie's murder. How did they think I could possibly get her to talk about it?

After my morning routine, I dressed in a pair of fitted gray Yves Saint Laurent wool pants from the eighties and a Chanel cream color sweater from the same period. The styles of both had come back around again, so my look actually wasn't so retro. Everyone would probably think I'd bought the clothing at the mall. I was fine with that, though, because I knew differently. The pants were so soft they felt like butter to the touch, and the sweater had faux pearl buttons creating a necklace around the collar.

I pulled the Buick up to the address listed in the newspaper. It was a modest-sized redbrick ranch style. Nothing like the size of the mansion that Charlotte had lived in. No matter the style of home, I never knew what great bargains I might uncover on these trips. My excitement grew as I climbed out from behind the Buick and made my way to the front door.

A woman stood with the door open and welcomed me in. Piles of clothing, books, and other items were scattered around the room. It wasn't as organized as I'd hoped, which would make my job a lot harder. It was still something that had to be done.

Charlotte stepped around the room surveying the mess. “This place is a disaster. How do you think you'll ever find anything.”

“Don't be so negative. I bet I'll find something,” I said.

As I browsed through the garments hanging on a rack by the front door, I noticed a woman walk through the door. She looked familiar right away. I'd barely made it across the floor when I realized it was Brooke House.

“What is she doing here?” Charlotte snapped.

“Who?” Sam leaned over for a better view.

“It's the woman who owns the salon down from my shop. I had no idea she was into estate sales,” I whispered.

“You need to find out why she's here. I bet she followed you,” Charlotte said.

I looked over at her. “You think? I don't think she would do that, would she? Why would she do that?”

“Remember Wind Song warned you about her.” Charlotte pointed a cautioning finger.

I glanced back at Brooke. “That's true, she did warn me about ‘a fashion show and house around the corner.' Brooke's last name is House and she was at the fashion show.”

At the time I had no idea what the cat's message had meant. But soon Brooke House had marched into my shop and I knew she was someone I should look out for.

“Maybe I
should
find out why she is here.” I took off in the same direction where Brooke had gone.

I wasn't sure what I'd say once I caught up to her. Maybe I wouldn't say anything at all. I would just see what she was doing. Obviously, Brooke wasn't following me because she acted as if she hadn't even seen me. Brooke went to the front door and paused. I ducked into the room to my right so that she wouldn't see me. Now I was standing in the kitchen. If the homeowners saw me they'd probably kick me out of their home for acting like a crazy person. I glanced around the room—avocado green appliances and a mustard yellow table with matching chairs. This room was retro, but I didn't think they'd gone for that look on purpose.

“Wow, it's like stepping back in time,” Charlotte said as she absorbed her surroundings.

“Do you think she saw me?” I whispered.

“I don't think so. You're not so sly though,” Charlotte declared.

“You could work on your skills a little,” Sam said.

I smirked. “Thanks for the advice, guys. Now back to business.”

I peeked out from the room and saw that Brooke was going out the front door.

“I have to catch her,” I said.

I took off from the room and toward the door. When I reached the entrance, I paused and looked outside. Brooke was walking toward the driveway. A park bench was at the edge of the yard, though, and she sat down and pulled out her cell phone.

“You have to go over there so you can hear her.” Charlotte waved her hand.

“You can go that way and she won't even see you.” Sam pointed.

“I think there's always a chance that she can see me,” I said. “But I'll give it a try.”

I kept my eyes on Brooke as I made my way off the porch and over to the line of azalea bushes at the edge of the property. She still hadn't noticed me. If she did, she never looked my way, so I assumed she hadn't spotted me. Sure I felt a little ridiculous, but I had to finish what I'd started.

“She's on the phone,” Charlotte said.

“I have to know what she's saying,” Sam insisted.

I kept my eyes on Brooke. Soon she'd probably feel my stare. “I'll try my best. Why don't you go over there and listen so that I don't have to.”

“We don't go anywhere without you, remember?” Charlotte lifted one finely arched eyebrow questioningly.

I sighed. “Yes, I had forgotten for a moment.”

I should have remembered though. They never got very far from my side.

“Once I get closer, then you can listen in to her call,” I offered.

Charlotte's delicately arched eyebrows knitted together. After a pause, she said, “I suppose we can do that.”

“That would be the best thing to do,” I said.

I couldn't believe that I had actually followed Brooke outside. If she knew what I'd done she'd surely think I was crazy. I finally reached the edge of the yard near where she sat.

Once at the bushes, I knew that I wouldn't be able to get close enough to hear her without actually hiding in the bushes. I hoped that there wasn't some scary creature underneath there. I got down on the ground and started to crawl under them.

“Not one of your best moments, Cookie,” Charlotte said as she stood behind me.

I decided to ignore her. The branches pulled at my clothing.

If this messed up my Chanel sweater, then someone was going to be in big trouble. Who, I wasn't sure, but someone would be in trouble. I inched my way under the brush more. The smell of damp earth surrounded me.

Now I was under the branches completely. I just knew that a spider would be on my face soon. When I looked over, I spotted Charlotte and Sam under there with me. At least they hadn't made me go alone. I leaned close so that I could hear her conversation. I just needed to move some of the branches back so that I could listen in better. I reached out and started to move the bush, when something touched my face and I let out a screech. After the sound escaped my lips, I knew that I had made a huge spying mistake.

“What have you done?” Charlotte asked.

“This isn't good,” Sam said.

Footsteps sounded from in front of me and then next thing I knew sunlight flooded the area. Brooke was leaning down in front of me. She had pulled the branches back.

She frowned. “What are you doing?”

“This doesn't look good,” Sam repeated.

“I don't know how you will explain your way out of this one,” Charlotte criticized.

Yeah, I didn't know how I would either. But I had to say something, because Brooke was glaring at me.

“I lost my earring,” I mumbled.

“No, no, that is a terrible excuse,” Charlotte said.

Maybe she was right, but it was too late now. I'd already said it.

“Are you spying on me?” Brooke peered into the bushes.

Of course that was exactly what I was doing.

“No, like I said, I lost my earring earlier when I got here.” I flashed her a wide smile. “I've looked everywhere, but this was the one spot I hadn't looked yet.”

Her brow furrowed. I knew she still wasn't buying my excuse, but there was reasonable doubt, so she couldn't really say anything to the contrary.

“I don't believe you, Cookie. I think you were trying to listen to my conversation.” She narrowed her eyes.

“Why would I do that?” I asked innocently.

“Why is she worried about it unless she knew that she had done something wrong?” Sam said.

He had a valid point.

Brooke placed her hands on her hips. “Why would you listen to my conversation?”

I finally climbed out from under the bush, brushing off my clothing. “I wouldn't. I told you I was looking for my earring.”

“You are wearing both of them.” She pointed.

“I didn't say I was looking for the earring I'm wearing now.”

She couldn't argue with that. Brooke stared for a moment longer, then turned on her heel. “I am leaving.”

She mumbled something under her breath as she walked away, but I couldn't quite make out what she had said. It was probably better that way.

“That was completely awkward,” Charlotte said.

“Yeah, don't remind me. She will tell everyone in town how strange I am.”

“Well . . . they probably already think you're a little eccentric, don't you think?” Charlotte pointed toward my clothing.

I suppose she did have a point. But I didn't want it to get around that I was weird. Right now I could be considered quirky. That could easily turn to just plain nutty in a matter of hours.

“People know me in town; they probably wouldn't believe her anyway.” I walked back toward the house.

“What are you doing?” Charlotte asked.

“Looking for vintage clothing, what else?”

Chapter 11

 

 

Even after the weird encounter with Brooke I'd managed to find a few awesome pieces. Actually, I was shocked at the good items I'd found. The first thing I'd spotted was an adorable Gucci 1970s pullover sweater. It had a delicate band of lace on the front. The fabric was antique white. The petite collar had a scalloped trim with a decorative three-button closure. The embroidered floral-print bodice added whimsy to the puffed long sleeves with a scalloped gathered sleeve cuff and a ribbed waistband.

The next piece was a gorgeous Ralph Lauren skirt from the 1980s. The navy blue sailor skirt was made out of cotton. It had the cute traditional sailor style front with pockets and a high waistline. On the side of the waist was the zipper closure.

I was pretty sure I'd squealed with delight when I picked up the 1950s wool gray Lilli Ann pencil skirt. The back featured a double pleat that fanned out the hem. I scored an absolutely adorable Pauline Trigère 1950s blouse to pair with the skirt. It was a white and red short-sleeved blouse with smooth white satin and delicate red floral trim along the collar. Pearl buttons lined down the front of the blouse. I placed the items in the trunk of the car and pointed the Buick in the direction of Jamie's address.

“We should come up with the questions that you'd like to ask her,” Charlotte said.

I wasn't sure that planning ahead would matter because I knew I would just forget what I wanted to ask when I got there. Nerves always did that to me. I navigated the streets and listened to the radio, tuning out the ghosts' chatter. Elvis poured from the speakers and I concentrated on the beautiful weather.

“Are you listening to us?” Charlotte asked, bringing me out of my daydream. It was the good one where I was living in the fifties and Elvis fell in love with me. I never said it was realistic. That was what made it a fantasy.

“Oh yes, sure I heard you,” I said.

“What did we say?”

I fell right into that one. I looked like a burglar who'd just been caught with the bag of jewels.

I turned onto the street that Jamie had given me. “Oh look, we're here.”

“Nice way to change the subject,” she said.

At least now I had an excuse and could get out of not listening to them. I pulled up in front of the yellow siding townhouse. Willow trees drooped their branches across the sidewalk. A blue Volkswagen was parked in the driveway.

“Looks like she's home, that's a good start.” Charlotte gestured.

I climbed out from behind the wheel and walked toward the house. A pot of sad-looking yellow and purple pansies sat beside the steps. Once in front of the white door, I rang the doorbell and waited for Jamie to answer.

“What's taking her so long?” Charlotte tapped her foot against the porch floor.

“Are you sure you have the right time?” Sam asked.

I looked at my watch. “I told her I would be here at nine.”

The door opened and the model stood in front of me. She had blond hair and wore a white knee-length dress. She was barefoot. She looked different without as much makeup, but I was almost sure it was Jamie.

“Jamie?” I asked.

“Would you like to come inside?” She opened the door wider.

“Of course we would.” Charlotte moved past us and inside the house. She motioned for me to follow her.

Jamie had no idea two ghosts were standing at her doorstep. Sometimes even I couldn't believe it, even though I could see it with my own eyes.

“Yes, I'd like that,” I said.

Jamie stepped to the side and gestured for me to come inside.

I entered the house. It was decorated all in white. The carpet and sofa blended together.

“This must be a pain to keep clean,” Sam said as he ran his finger along the back of the sofa.

It was a good thing ghosts couldn't leave fingerprints because they were touching everything. Charlotte was running her finger along the coffee table to check for dust. I sat on the edge of the sofa and Jamie sat on the white upholstered chair across from me. She crossed her legs at the ankles and placed her hands in her lap.

“So if you didn't want to talk about Melanie, then what do you want to talk about?” she asked. “The clothing?”

I shifted in my seat. “That would make sense as to why I'm here . . . clothing? That I wanted to talk about clothing, right?”

Charlotte stood behind Jamie, gesturing wildly. “What are you talking about? You're babbling. She's going to kick you out of her house soon if you don't start making sense.”

I took a deep breath.

Jamie stared at me. “So why are you here then?”

I cleared my throat. “Okay, to be honest, I do have some questions about Melanie.”

She continued her focus on me. Her face turned red. “Are you serious? I told you I didn't want to talk about that. You lied to me just to get over here.”

“Don't back down in front of her.” Sam leaned against the sofa's arm.

“No, I just need to talk with you about the show, but I guess I do have some questions about the murder.” I tried to smooth things over.

She glared at me. “I told you I didn't want to talk about it.”

Since things weren't going well, I used this opportunity to lie. It was my only option right now.

“You know, the police are suspicious of everyone who was there.” I watched her for a reaction.

She scowled. “I wasn't the one who found her. You were even out there, how do I know you didn't have something to do with the murder?”

“You don't, but of course I didn't. That's not what I want to talk about. To be honest, I'm just trying to help a private investigator.” That wasn't a lie.

“I don't think you're being honest about anything.” Her posture stiffened as she stared at me.

I wasn't sure if she would accept anything I said.

Jamie tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “She had an argument with some other designer. Everyone heard them yelling at each other.”

“Do you think that person murdered her?”

She leaned forward. “No, I think Hannah murdered her.”

“That is a careless accusation,” Sam said.

“Even though you heard Melanie arguing with someone else?” I asked.

“She argued with a lot of people, so that was nothing new. She argued with Hannah too.”

I suppose she did have a point there, but was it enough for murder?

“Do you know why she was arguing with Hannah?” I asked.

“Good question.” Sam paced across the room.

Charlotte crossed her arms in front of her waist. “I don't know if I would believe what she has to say.”

Jamie leaned back in her seat. “I think they were arguing over the clothing. I can see why Hannah was mad, too, because Melanie told another designer not to use Hannah in a show.”

“Okay, so maybe Hannah did have a motive, but still, I just have a feeling,” Sam said.

“Well, that's kind of rotten of Melanie,” Charlotte said.

“Why did she do that?” I asked.

“After Hannah got mad at Melanie that was probably her way of getting back at her.”

“So it sounds like they had quite a battle going on,” Sam said.

Jamie looked at the small silver clock on the side table beside her. “I'm sorry, but I have an appointment.”

I stood from the sofa. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me.”

She walked toward the door. “I hope that whoever did this is brought to justice.”

“Me too,” I said.

Charlotte and Sam followed me out the door.

“What do you think about what she said?” Charlotte asked.

“I think I need to look into it further,” I said.

Charlotte smiled. “I like the way you think.”

“That is exactly what I was thinking,” Sam said as he trailed along beside us.

We headed back to my car. I pondered my next move as I opened the car door and slid behind the wheel. I shoved my key into the ignition but didn't start the car yet. The pink flamingo keychain dangled and lightly tapped the side of the steering wheel. That was the only sound in the car. I could have heard a pin drop.

As we sat in the car, contemplating what to do next, Charlotte said, “You should find the designer and see what she has to say about what Melanie did.”

I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel. “I suppose that wouldn't be such a bad idea.”

“See, I have good ideas,” Charlotte said.

“I never said you didn't.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “Well, it wasn't what you said, it was the way you implied it.”

Sam leaned forward in the seat. “Ladies, you all need to focus on the task at hand.”

He was right.

“I'll see if I can find the other designer's number.”

After a quick search on my phone, I found a number for her office.

“I doubt I'll get through to her, but I'll give it a shot,” I said as I dialed the number.

Sam leaned back in the seat. “I have to hand it to you, Cookie, when you decide to do something, you really go all out.”

Charlotte smiled. “She really reminds me of myself at that age.”

“Maybe if I had had half of your tenacity I would have been a better private eye,” Sam said.

I covered the receiver while I dialed. “Sam, I'm sure you were a great private eye.”

He stared out the window. “Sure, that's why I never solved a case.”

I waited for someone to pick up, but after several rings it went to voice mail. I left a message, but I was sure I wouldn't get a call back and even if I did there was no telling how long it would take. I knew that the designer was a busy woman.

“No answer,” I said, feeling a little discouraged. “If I can't get through on the phone, I will have to find another way.”

“That's the way to do it,” Charlotte said.

I was glad they had confidence in me. They certainly had more in me than I had in myself. I suppose that was something I needed to work on improving.

I typed the search for Meira Mora's information into my phone and strolled through the findings. Hannah was supposed to model for the designer Meira Mora. There were a lot of articles on her designs and where to find her items. But halfway down the page I found something that could definitely be of use.

I glanced over at Charlotte. “Hmm. That's interesting.”

“What did you find?” Sam leaned forward in the seat again.

“Apparently, she is making an appearance today in Atlanta,” I said.

“So we can just swing by?” Sam asked.

I scoffed. “Well, it isn't quite as easy as that, but I guess we can go. What's a couple more hours, right?”

“Now you're thinking the right way,” Sam said.

“Great. A road trip,” Charlotte said.

I shoved the car into drive and pulled out onto the highway. “If we are going all the way to Atlanta, then I am going to need music.”

“You mean our sparkling conversation isn't enough?” Charlotte tried to look offended.

I reached for the knob on the radio. “As wonderful as you both are, you aren't as much fun as Elvis.”

I got lost in the music for a while and hadn't even noticed that Charlotte had switched seats and was now with Sam in the back. I didn't even want to know what they were talking about back there.

Once I made it to Atlanta, I forgot how much I hated driving through the traffic. I followed the signs while Sam and Charlotte tried to tell me how to drive. Finally, I reached the mall where the Saks Fifth Avenue was located. I circled the parking lot until I found a space and then hopped out of the Buick.

“This is exciting,” Charlotte said.

“You're just excited because we're going into Saks.” I adjusted the purse strap on my shoulder as I walked along.

She grinned. “Well, you're probably right about that. I won't deny it. The things are just so pretty. Can we go through the handbag section?”

“As much as I'd love to, we're not here to shop,” I said.

She sighed. “If you can't help out an old friend.”

“We'll see what we can do, okay?” I asked.

“Please.” She smiled.

Sam stared straight ahead as if we were on a military mission. He was all business at the moment and couldn't care less about shopping.