Little Ghost Lost (Destiny Bay Cozy Mysteries Book 5) (6 page)

“Oh, but…”

“I mean it, Mele,” he said in a very strained voice, still avoiding my gaze. “I need to take statements from both of you, but if you could please wait outside in back…” He gestured toward where he wanted us to go, gave Jill a significant look, and turned away.
 

“Okay,” I said, feeling a little grumpy but ready to do what he needed. “We’ll wait for you out there, then.”

He nodded quickly but didn’t look back, and we made our way out of the house and into the lovely garden Celinda and her husband had developed just outside the back door. Three separate fountains made water music while bees buzzed and birds swooped in to sample the seeds left out for them on a feeding platform, but at the same time, that ocean breeze was blowing again, leaving a cool shivery feeling wherever it touched.
 

We sat in yard chairs and leaned back, slowly feeling tension drain away. I looked toward the Pennington place and then gasped, sitting up straighter. There was that man in the window again! I stared a little harder and realized it was a shadow and a trick of the light. There was no man there. Maybe the first time I thought I’d seen him had been the same thing—nothing. Still, it threw me a bit off balance.

“What a neat and private space,” Jill commented, then met my gaze and made a face. “Here we go again, huh? Oh Mele, can you believe it? Why do these things always seem to happen to you?”

“Me? You were here too.”

“Yes, but you’ve found so many more of these things. It’s like people in this town might as well call you for reservations if they’ve got a death coming up. You’re the go-to gal for murder.” She threw up her hands. “Oh well. As long as no one expires in my café, I’ll be happy.”

I was completely disgruntled now. It wasn’t my fault. Was it?

“What? Do you want me to stop coming over to see you there? Do you think I carry around death like typhoid Mary?”

She looked at me and shook her head. “Oh, cut it out. You’re just touchy because your favorite cop sent you to the corner for a timeout.”

“He did not.”

“Oh no? Did you see his face when he saw us there?”

The man himself came down the steps toward us, holding a notebook in one hand and a recorder in the other. He was still avoiding my eyes. He dropped into the chair across from mine and tried to speak. Then he looked at me and something seemed to be choking him.
 

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He shook his head and turned away. His shoulders were shaking.
 

I jumped up and put a hand on his arm, bending over him. “What is it?” I asked, alarmed. “Are you…crying?”

He turned to look at me and sure enough. Tears were streaming down his face.
 

“Roy! What is it?”

He covered his mouth with a hand. “Dammit, Mele!” were the words I heard, though they were muffled.

It was only then that I finally realized what was going on. He wasn’t crying. He was laughing. Laughing. At a murder investigation. I reared back.
 

“Just let me get this out of my system,” he growled, laughing again. “Ohmigod, I can’t believe it. The minute I walked in and saw you standing there over another dead body, it just hit me. I couldn’t look at you. Every time I met your gaze I felt the laughter rise in my throat. I couldn’t look at you without cracking up.”

I glared at him, sniffed and handed him a handkerchief and he used it to wipe his eyes.
 

Meanwhile, I noticed Jill was giggling along with him. Some friend.
 

“Highly inappropriate,” he grumbled to himself, shaking his head. “Highly unprofessional. This could get me fired.” He glanced up at me and met my gaze and started laughing again. “But I just can’t help it. I think it’s an hysterical reaction. Maybe…maybe I’m developing an allergy or something…”

“An allergy to me?” I glared at him. “I think you both are just plain mean,” I said haughtily. “I can’t help it if I get around a lot more than you two do. I just happen to be there when….”

Roy burst into another round of laughter. “I’ve got to stop this,” he said, still wiping at tears. “I’ve got to get control before the captain gets here. But I’ve also got to get your statements.”

“We weren’t here for the murder, you know,” I told him tartly. I was really tired of everyone assuming I somehow facilitated the local death rate. “From the looks of things, I’d say the deed itself happened hours ago. And since I’d never even met the man….”

He nodded, beginning to sober up. “Right. But you did know Celinda.”

“Of course.”

He looked at me, started to say something, then choked it back, took a deep breath, then looked back again and grinned.
 

“We were walking up the steps to the house,” he said softly, “and my partner said, ‘What do you want to bet Mele will be in there?’ and I said…..” He started to laugh again.
 

“Alright, enough.” I grabbed Jill’s hand and pulled her toward the garden gate.
 

“I’m supposed to be over at that Victorian next door, evaluating it’s potential for the city. That’s why we’re here.” I glared at him. “We’ll be over there if you want our statements.”

He just sat there grinning and chuckling and we left, slamming the gate behind us.
 

“Poor guy,” Jill murmured, trying to hold back a grin.
 

I turned on her. “Poor guy! How about poor me? I’m the one who gets dead bodies dumped in her space like cats dump dead mice on your doorstep.”
 

As you can see, I was feeling a little sorry for myself by now. It seemed like I was being blamed for being a victim.
 

“At least he could hold back laughing at me until I’m out of earshot.”

“Oh Mele, come on. He’s not laughing at you. He’s laughing at the situation.” She gave me a hug as we started up the steps to the big front door. “Give the guy a break. You know he’s crazy about you.”

That turned my head and gave me a start. “Is he? How do you know?”

“I just… I mean… He’s always…”

“Yeah, you see? Hard to tell, isn’t it? Some days I think he is, and then the next time I see him, I wonder.”

“Oh Mele!”

Before I had a chance to wallow any longer in my own discontent, a sound came from the old Victorian structure. It stopped us both in our tracks. The next thing I knew, we were clinging together like kids about to enter a Halloween haunted house.
 

“What was that?” Jill whispered, her eyes huge as she stared at the door.
 

“I don’t know,” I said, working hard to keep my voice steady. I was supposed to be the brave and experienced one. “It sounded like a…like a…”

There it was again.
 

“Like a moan,” we both said at the same time and clung together like we’d been sticky-glued.

Chapter Five

“No,” I said as I got my senses back. “No, look.” I pointed to a large hole in the gingerbread décor attached to the eaves above the porch. “It’s the wind going through that. Look.”

A stiff breeze came sweeping through and there it was again. It was enough like a moan to keep the hair on the back of my neck rising, but I knew it had no supernatural explanations. It was just the wind.
 

Jill shook her head, marveling at it. “You don’t expect that from a light autumn breeze,” she noted, giving me a quick smile. “My gosh, we’d better settle down. We haven’t even gone in yet and already we’re jumping at every noise. It doesn’t even take a real ghost to get to us.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” I muttered as I unlocked the door. But my confidence was coming back. I led her inside as though I was the homeowner himself. And in a way, I
was
tied to the place. After all, it was my project.
 

And it was fun showing off the lovely old mansion to her. She was an appreciative audience, speculating on the history and imagining how things had been once, in the days when the house was young.
 

“Wow,” she said when I ushered her into the large room I’d decided was once a ballroom.
 

“Nowadays, you would probably turn it into a home gym,” I said. “But I’ll bet this place was wonderful once upon a time. Can’t you imagine the strains of a Strauss waltz echoing in these halls? Can’t you picture the beautiful gowns? The handsome gentlemen?”

“Oh yes, imagine the events they must have had here, the receptions, the soirees. The dinner table full of great people of that age.”

I laughed at her. “What great people?”

“I don’t know. It just has that feel to it.”

I had my own opinion, from what I knew of the Penningtons. I somehow doubted that too many “great people” might have been on their guest list. I sighed, looking around the room. Piles of broken chairs and plundered couch cushions were stacked against the far exit.
 

“It would have a lot more of that feel if it had some of the old furniture left in decent shape.”

“Who took it away?”

“You got me.” I frowned. “I don’t know enough about all the circumstances to make a good guess. But…” I hesitated. I really had no reason or right to speculate at this point, but Jill was my sounding board for most things. Why not this too?
 

“Mr. Pennington died about two years ago. Celinda’s antiques consultant told me he thought the old man had spent years before that slowly pawning or selling the good furniture, piece by piece, to pay the bills. But I wonder…”

Jill looked wise. “If that consultant knew a bit more than he was telling?”

I shrugged. “Or Celinda’s husband even. He’s some sort of collector.”

“Or was.”
 

We exchanged a rueful glance.
 

“True.”

I showed her the morning room and the library and the dining room and the den—which had been fixed up as an office with a huge old secretary against the wall. It was in bad shape, but it still had all its little drawers.
 

“I’ve always wanted one of these,” I said, smiling at it.
 

“Can you imagine all the things you could put in those drawers?” Jill agreed.
 

“And probably never find them again,” I said. “But it’s good to organize. Organization is the key to everything.”

She gave me a thumbs up and we headed for the kitchen. My heart began to beat a little faster as I anticipated seeing the baseball fan ghost sitting at the old radio again, but when we turned the corner and walked in, the place was empty. In fact, I hadn’t seen the hint of a ghost anywhere today.

A thought flickered into my mind. What if just the fact that I had Jill with me was shielding me from the spirit world? Could be. If so, I was going to bring her every time I came.

On to the laundry porch. An ancient washer and drier sat side by side.
 

“These must be about fifty years old,” I said. “You’d think they would have updated at some point.”

“Maybe they sent all their laundry out,” Jill said. “Lots of rich people used to do that.”

For some unknown reason I pulled open the dryer and we both stared at the contents. Reaching in, I pulled out a beautiful negligee and held it up. We gaped at each other.
 

“What the heck?”

“This isn’t old,” I pointed out needlessly. “In fact, I’d say someone bought it at Victoria’s Secret last week or so.”

Jill nodded, eyes sparkling. “Do ghosts wear sexy lingerie?” she asked.

“Not that I’ve ever noticed.” I threw the item back into the drier and closed the door. “I have a feeling this belongs to a real live woman. But who?”

“There’s no heir to the property, right? Didn’t old man Pennington give it to the city?”

I nodded. “The strange thing is, Celinda told me that her husband thought he should be the heir.”

“That man who was just murdered?”

“Right. He claimed to be Pennington’s illegitimate child. He even went to court, but his case was dismissed or denied or something like that. So I guess that will no longer be an issue.”

“Unless Celinda decides to fight for it.”

We looked at each other and both sighed at the same time.
 

“I wonder if she’s back yet,” I said.

“Was she planning to come back today?”

“I don’t know. Actually, I doubt it. She was talking like this was going to be a whole weekend worth of selling art stuff for her.”

 
“Poor thing. Can you imagine? Coming home from something like that to find that your husband has been killed in your own living room.”

“Library,” I corrected.

“Library,” she repeated with a shrug. “It must be a shock. Unless of course
she
did it.”

My jaw dropped. “What are you saying? She was in Cambria.”

“Was she?” Jill gave me a wise look. “You’ve taught me enough about this murder business to know you can’t count on surface evidence.”

And you know what? She was right.
 

But I didn’t want to think about that. I was going to have nothing to do with this little murder. Let someone else take the bit and run with it. Not me. It was none of my business.

“Bite your tongue,” I told her. “We’re not involved and that’s the way I hope it will stay.”

“I’m just sayin’,” she said with a sassy smile.
 

I rolled my eyes. “Let’s go upstairs,” I said, remembering the bedroom that had looked like it was currently being used by someone. Which was odd. No one else was supposed to have keys to this house. “I think I may know where our negligee-wearing bimbo spends her nights.”

We turned to go up and something flashed by, almost like a butterfly sailing through the air, leaving a shiver behind. My breath caught in my throat and I gasped softly. I knew my holiday from ghosts was probably over.
 

“What is it?” Jill said. To my surprise, she seemed to be completely attuned to my reactions.
 

“Did you see that?” I asked her warily.
 

“No. But I saw you.” She grabbed my arm. “You saw something didn’t you?”