Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 02 - Ghostly Hijinks (17 page)

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Authors: Madison Johns

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Paranormal - Michigan

BOOK: Madison Johns - Agnes Barton Paranormal 02 - Ghostly Hijinks
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“Oh, no. This is a call center in India.”

“You can’t be serious here!” I choked out. “How in the heck is an operator from India gonna help us out of this blasted elevator?”

“Calm down. I’ll alert the management right away. Where did you say you were again?”

“The Goldberg Hotel in Silver, Nevada, USA.”

“It might be easier if I get someone to help,” Caroline suggested.

“How, when you’re not supposed to let anyone see you?”

“You told me she let Lois see her yesterday,” Eleanor pointed out.

“I didn’t mean to. I guess in all the excitement, I let my guard down. I promise I won’t let it happen again, but maybe I should fetch someone here.”

I was about to tell Caroline to not even think about doing that, but just then I heard a knocking on the elevator door and it was wrenched open, with Redd staring down at us from the floor above. “I should have known. Take it easy, ladies. I’ll have you out just as soon as I can.”

Caroline was still here and I tried to shoo her off, but she whispered in my ear with, “I promise, I won’t leave you.”

“No, I think it would be better if you disappear now.”

“You’re so fickle, Agnes, but your wish is my command.” She faded away and I felt bad that I had to ask her to leave, but I just couldn’t risk someone else seeing her.

Eleanor folded her arms across her ample chest. “This is such a good ‘I told you so’ moment, but I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to tell you I told you this wasn’t a good idea and that I had a bad feeling about it. I so won’t tell you Agnes, I really won’t, but I’ll be thinking it. I’ll be thinking about it really hard,” she said, pointing to her noggin.

“Oh, thanks. What a pal you are. I’m so glad you won’t tell me you told me so, or rub it in my face,” I smirked. “You know, like the going inside a jail cell.”

Eleanor chuckled. “I’ll have to admit that wasn’t one of my brighter moments. I just hope we’re not stuck in here,
all day
. Not with that sensitive bladder of yours.”

“Eleanor, why did you have to even go there? Now I hafta pee!”

“You can hold it. I have confidence in you and your nervous bladder.” She winked.

“Do you think you ladies could climb out if I helped you?”

“Are you nuts? We’re too old to do that,” I said.

“Yeah, us old women aren’t that agile,” Eleanor added.

I smiled at that, since Eleanor liked to deny that we were of a certain age, or weren’t capable of doing things like the younger folks could. Sometimes, even I was surprised with how my body could move when it had the proper inspiration—like if someone chased me with a gun. Sure, my hip might hurt at times, but all of that gets thrown to the wayside when I’m up to my neck in trouble.

Redd disappeared, and I hoped that he was fixing the blasted elevator since I now had to cross my legs. I fell headlong into Eleanor when the elevator jerked into motion, and now all I could think about was being hurtled down to the mineshaft, and who knew how far down that would be.

I was relieved when the elevator stopped on the first floor and we wobbled out. Lois was right at hand, asking, “Are you ladies okay?”

I couldn’t answer, as I was making a beeline toward the ladies’ room. “She has to pee,” I overheard Eleanor explain.

* * *

Redd was waiting for me when I came out of the bathroom with a question-ready-to-ask look on his face. “So, what happened in there? I’ve never known the elevator to act like that unless the M button was pushed.”

“Oh? Well, we were just going up to our room after breakfast,” I lied.

“Yes, and that elevator just went nuts,” Eleanor added somberly. “Are you sure that elevator is safe?”

“Sure it is, but I suppose I’ll use it a few times to make sure it’s up to working standards.”

“What if you get stuck in there?” I asked. “I’m pretty positive those fellas from the India call center won’t be able to help you.”

“The what?”

“When we used that emergency phone, some fella from India answered. Wouldn’t it be way easier if it just went to the front desk?”

“I’ll have to ask Francine about that. I wasn’t aware it did.”

I narrowed my eyes slightly. “How don’t you know? I thought you were the main maintenance man around here?”

“I believe I told you I do more than just that, like wherever I’m needed. I’m glad you ladies are doing okay. I really had better check out the elevator now.”

After Redd went into the elevator, I strode in the direction of the swinging front door. “Shouldn’t we check on Andrew and Mr. Wilson?” Eleanor asked.

“You can if you want, but I want to check out the cemetery, if you don’t mind.”

“Okay, but Mr. Wilson seemed mad and he never gets mad. What if he’s fed up with me?” Eleanor sniffled now, dabbing at the corner of her eye with her shirt. “Mrs. Peacock might be real competition. She’s so sophisticated.”

“I’m sure he’ll be just fine after he does his male bonding with Andrew. Mrs. Peacock is from Redwater, not East Tawas, so I don’t believe she’s a threat. Besides, you’re just as sophisticated as she is. You’re both from small towns in Michigan.”

“Th-That’s true, but she has a Macaw that can talk and—”

“Cuss,” I finished for her. “If it’s a pet you want, you should get one.”

“Like a dog?”

“Those take quite a bit of work, Eleanor. I was thinking more on the lines of a cat.”

“I don’t much like the idea of that. I’d hate to clean a litterbox.”

“How about a fish, then?”

“Maybe I really don’t need a pet. I can barely take care of myself.”

“You said it, Eleanor, not me.” I tried hard not to smile since Eleanor was really being candid right now.

I noticed as I crossed the street that dirt was placed over the entire street and I wondered what else I’d have to expect from the festival—hopefully not another law breaker. Being robbed at gunpoint sure wasn’t my fondest memory of Silver. I thought Douglas and his interest in Eleanor was. I sure hoped Mr. Wilson never learned of it. I’d hate to see the ghost injure poor Mr. Wilson, but then again he could be a tad spunky at times.

We waltzed past Jo Ellen’s bed and breakfast, the only brick building in town where a woman wearing an apron over her dress was sweeping off the steps. We gave her a wave as she glanced up, but continued along the street since the clapboard sidewalk ended on the other side of the jail. It seemed odd how the jailhouse was right next door to a bed and breakfast. Might even be a good place to ask a few questions. I really would love to hear the story about Leister’s gold from more people. I kept hoping that I’d run into someone who knew more than what we’d been told so far.

I felt the heat bearing down on us from the sun now and felt sweat creep down my back as we passed the bank. Next, there was a blank space between the bank and cemetery, but there were bricks embedded into the ground, which I figured might just have been a building of some sort at one time. The livery stable was across the street from the bank with a decent-sized corral full of horses.

“Wow, I wonder why so many horses?” I mused aloud.

“I saw horse trailers hauling into town last night,” Eleanor said. “They must have some more activities that involve horses later. I heard talk of a stampede coming through town later.”

“These folks sure do a festival up right.”

Cars and trucks passed us by, many of them packed with gear of some sort, all heading out of town, though. The cemetery had an iron fence that went around it, although from where we were, it didn’t look all that big with the doors wide open. Next to that was a small building with a man outside working with wood.

“Look, he’s building coffins,” Eleanor pointed out.

I gulped. “I sure hope that’s for the festival. You know, to give it more of the western flavor.”

I heard what sounded like a shovel striking the ground and I entered the cemetery slowly, wondering what else the townspeople could be up to. It sure didn’t seem like they’d be digging a grave for the festival. I imaged the bodies of outlaws out on display in those coffins that we’d walked by.

“Hurry up, Clark. The last thing we need is for anyone to see what we’re up to.”

“It would help, Gertie, if you ... I don’t know … maybe picked up a shovel to help me? My back is aching already.”

Eleanor and I hid behind a worn tombstone, or tried to since it was way smaller than us, but the couple we spied didn’t seem to notice us. I bit my fist when I saw what they were doing and I just couldn’t stop myself from going over there, but before I made my move, Eleanor whispered in my ear, “I’m going for the sheriff.”

Caroline, I really need you right now
, I thought, hoping that she’d appear from whereever it was that she hung out. She popped in right next to me and I clapped my hands over my mouth before I made a noise, since she’d scared the bejeezus out of me. I gave her a look, but that’s as far as it went since I now boldly strutted over to where they were digging. Clark was in a hole with his shovel now and that made me so mad. Why … these two were grave robbers.

“What are you doing?” I asked in what I thought was my most intimidating voice.

Clark stopped, mid-shovel, and glared at me. “Find yourself another grave, this one is mine.”

“What on earth are you doing that for? It’s not only against the law, but really morbid.”

Gertie rolled her eyes, wiping back a strand of her blonde hair. “What’s it to you, old bat? Shouldn’t you be home knitting or something?” She laughed with a snort.

I balled up my fist, but Caroline held a hand against my chest, preventing me from getting too physical like I really wanted to do. Good thing, since I wasn’t like that, but grave-robbing sure fired up my kettle.

The shovel hit the ground and I said in a much louder voice, “Stop doing that now!”

“Who’s going to stop us, Grandma?”

“I am,” Sheriff Bradley said from behind me. “Drop the shovel, now.”

The shovel was dropped and Clark crawled out of the grave, brushing off his clothing.

“We’re not doing anything wrong,” Gertie spat. “There’s not even a body in that grave.”

“And no gold bars, either,” Clark grumbled. “I was sure this was the place to look.”

“Leister’s gold again?” The sheriff palmed his head. “When will you folks figure out that Leister’s gold is just a story to tell the tourists? There’s no gold hidden anywhere hereabouts.”

“That’s what you say, but we know better. My grand-pappy told me all about how Peyton Leister melted that gold down into bars and hid it right here in Silver.”

“That seems strange. If the folks of Silver gave Peyton that bad of a time, why on Earth would he hide the gold here, of all places?” I asked.

Caroline smiled, gave Clark a kick and he flew back into the hole he’d dug with a thump. He jumped back up and clamored out, shouting, “Why did you push me?”

“Nobody pushed you, unless it was perhaps Peyton Leister’s ghost,” I suggested.

“That’s not funny. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“No?” I cocked a brow at Caroline, who threw her arms out and went into a spin, scattering dust into a cloud that chased Clark and Gertie out of the cemetery.

“And don’t come back,” the sheriff hollered. 

“Is that all you’re gonna do?” I asked.

“Pretty much. Do you know how many times that grave has been dug up? Too many to count, I tell you.” The sheriff smiled now. “I assure you this bothers me, but I just can’t arrest everyone who acts out of the norm during the festival. The marshal just picked up the robbers earlier.”

“That’s good to hear since they did rob me at gunpoint. So what are your plans today in the way of securing the graveyard?”

“Not much I can do unless you ladies want to guard it. I sure hope a dust storm isn’t brewing with that little whirlwind that just blew through here, but I suspect someone will be back here before the day is over.”

“When the sheriff walked away, I asked, “But what about that hole?”

“It can stay empty. If I put the dirt back in the hole, some fool will just dig it back up later.”

“Why doesn’t that grave have a body in it?”

“Look, Agnes. I’m not even sure if that grave
ever
had a body in it, if it was already looted, or even moved.” He didn’t stick around to answer any more of my questions.

I frowned, but there wasn’t too much I could do. I sure hoped that I wouldn’t run into Clark and Gertie again anytime soon. Who knew if they were desperate types?

“Gertie is a strange name for a young woman these days.”

“Unless someone really didn’t like their baby,” Eleanor agreed. “I don’t even like my name. There are so many Eleanor’s of our generation.”

Eleanor had me by ten years, but I didn’t say so. She never cared all that much to be reminded of that fact.

I walked toward the tombstone with the name, Peyton Leister, on it. “I wonder if Peyton was ever buried here.”

“For all we know, someone had just put the tombstone here. Since Leister’s gold is such a big legend around Silver, it seems fitting that he have some sort of a resting place.”

“That’s just it; I fully intend to speak with Francine about this. She has to know something more than she’s telling me.”

“Fine, but I’m not sure how much we’ll learn from her. If she’s already tight-lipped about the details of the gold bars, what makes you think that she’ll tell us where Peyton Leister’s body really is?”

“She might not, but who else can we ask?”

“I’m not sure, but someone has to know.”

I sighed, feeling more frustrated than I ever had before. Something just had to give, and sooner rather than later, before all was lost.

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

Not long after we left the cemetery, I came back to the hotel to ask Andrew for the key fob, even though I really wanted to distance myself from him right now. I vowed that today I just had to press on and find the family before it was too late. We’d lost sight of Caroline after she chased Clark and Gertie from the cemetery, which had to have been the most entertaining thing I’d ever witnessed. The strange thing was the sheriff seemed to think it was only a whirlwind when it was far from it. It didn’t seem like anything really rattled the sheriff. He reminded me of my granddaughter’s husband, Trooper Bill Sales.

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