Merry, Merry Ghost (7 page)

Read Merry, Merry Ghost Online

Authors: Carolyn Hart

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Inheritance and Succession, #Ghost, #Rich People, #Oklahoma, #Grandchildren

BOOK: Merry, Merry Ghost
12.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Peg looked surprised. “That would be nice. I need to fix Keith more French toast.”

Tucker’s brows drew down in a quick frown. “Hey, let’s get the show on the road. We’ve got to find the right tree.”

Gina was already picking up the tray. “I need to talk to Susan. I’ll be down as soon as I can.”

As the swinging door shut behind her, Tucker looked exasperated.

“More coffee?” Peg held up the carafe.

Tucker nodded, his face drawn in a frown. “Gina’s in trouble, isn’t she?”

Peg looked hesitant.

Tucker gripped the mug. “So what else is new? How much does she owe?” His voice was weary.

Outside Susan’s door, Gina
hesitated, then gave a brisk nod. She opened the door and called out,

“Breakfast.” She carried the tray to the table near Susan’s chair in front of the fake fire.

Susan wore no makeup, but her lovely face looked younger. She smiled at Gina. “Thank you, my dear. I suppose Peg is busy with Keith.” Her smile grew wider, her eyes shone. “Oh, what a happy day. Gina, I haven’t had a happy day in so long.”

Gina’s eyes glistened. “We’re glad for you, Susan. He’s a nice little boy.” She removed the napkin and the cover. “Do you want coffee now?”

At Susan’s nod, Gina poured from the hottle. Then she took a deep breath. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Her voice was shaky.

Some of the light fled Susan’s face. She looked up, gave a tiny sigh. “What’s wrong?”

Gina stood stiff and still, her thin face twisted in despair, her shoulders hunched. “I owe almost forty thousand dollars on my credit cards.”

Susan’s aristocratic features stiffened. Her dark eyes gazed at Gina with a long measuring look. She didn’t speak.

Gina’s hands twisted together. “I know. I’m a fool. But I had that good job for a while and I got so many credit card offers and I signed up and I wasn’t thinking. I was able to make the payments until I lost my job and now I can’t find a job.”

Susan glanced at Gina’s outfit. “I saw those trousers in a Neiman catalog. They were expensive. Bedford pants. Very distinctive.”

Gina stared at the floor.

“You have beautiful clothes. You’ve always liked fine things.” Susan was more grieved than scolding.

“You’ve always spent money you didn’t have. Tucker has helped you, hasn’t he? I suppose you’ve asked Jake, too.”

Gina pulled her hands apart, turned them out in appeal. “I’m desperate. I can’t get a job, and I get all these threatening phone calls.”

Susan was brusque. “You were able to make the payments. Don’t you understand, Gina? That’s going into debt. The interest charged is huge. What will happen if I pay the debts? Will you live on what you can earn, buy things only if you have the money to pay for them? Somehow I’m afraid you’ll fall back into your old ways. I don’t know. Maybe this time you will have to work out your problems by yourself.” She made a sudden swift gesture. “I’ll think about what should be done. Let’s not talk any more. I have much to do today.” She turned to her breakfast, her face stern.

Susan gestured with her
ebony black cane. “Look toward the back of the closet.” There was a becoming pink flush in her pale cheeks. Her softly waved hair was brushed back, emphasizing her expressive face. Regal in her red silk brocade dressing gown, she was full of cheer. There was no hint of her uncomfortable morning encounter with Gina.

Jake reluctantly stepped into a long cavernous closet with a flashlight in one hand. “What if there are fiddlebacks?”

Susan laughed aloud. “Would a fiddleback dare hide in any house under your supervision?”

Jake’s voice sounded hollow as she slowly moved deeper into the closet. “No one dusts in here. No one’s been in here for years.”

Susan’s face was suddenly somber. Lines of sorrow pulled at her face. “No. Not for years.” She gripped the head of the cane. “At the back, there are boxes with Ellen’s name. Look for the one that reads
Carousel
.”

“Ooh. A spider.” There was a sound of a stamping foot.

Susan’s expression was a mixture of irritation and amusement.

“I see the box.” Jake’s voice lifted in triumph. “It’s on top. I’m not sure…Yes, I can. Oh, it’s not too heavy.”

She stepped into the hall. She held a box out in front of her, gripping it with obvious uneasiness.

Susan led the way, the cane thumping on the floor. She opened the door to the blue room.

Keith sat cross-legged on his bed, stacking his plastic gold coins, patiently picking them up when they slid and fell. Duchess rested at the foot of his bed, golden gaze fixed on the plastic coins. Keith looked up as the door opened, his expression uncertain.

Susan’s face shone with delight. “Good morning, Keith.”

Peg turned from the mirror, laid a hairbrush on the dresser with a smile. “Good morning, Susan. Keith ate a huge breakfast. Keith, here’s your grandmother.”

Susan came across the room, bent to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad I caught you before you and Keith leave.”

Susan was a little breathless. “I have something special for Keith.”

“Tucker brought a present, too.” Peg gestured at the small leather bag and Keith’s pile of play gold coins.

“After we go shopping, Keith’s going to think the world is made up of presents. What do you have?”

Jake stepped into the room, still holding the box stiffly.

Peg hurried toward her mother. “Let me help. What is it?”

Susan smiled at her grandson. “I’ve brought Ellen’s musical carousel for you. Every morning and every evening we can turn it on for you to listen.”

Peg’s face softened. “The carousel! We loved hearing it play Christmas carols. Here, I’ll take it.” She carried the box to the bedside table and stripped tape from the lid.

Keith slid from the bed with a thump, came nearer, his dark eyes curious.

Jake fluttered her hands. “There may be spiders.”

Keith’s face was serious. “Mütter says spiders are good mütters. They work hard.”

Peg smiled at him. “I like spiders, too.” She lifted out a lumpy shape protected by plastic wrapping. She carefully peeled back the plastic wrap and set the merry-go-round on the table between the twin beds. She bent sideways to insert the plug.

Leaning on her cane, Susan came across the room. She reached down and turned the switch.

Lights twinkled. Animals rode up and down, including a sea dragon, a rabbit, a cat with a fish in its mouth, a rooster, a stag, and a goat as the carousel went around and around. Sweet and clear came the strains of “Silent Night.”

Keith walked slowly toward the turning carousel. Lips parted in a smile, he reached out to touch the light-bright top.

Susan’s eyes were soft as she watched her grandson.

Faintly, the front doorbell sounded below.

Susan nodded toward Jake. “That will be Wade. Please bring him to my room.”

Susan Flynn’s lawyer bounced
into the room. Though middle-aged, his dark hair thinning and his athletic build contending with the beginnings of a paunch, he seemed youthful with a broad, good-humored face and a hint of boyish eagerness. He beamed at Susan and held out a plate covered with pink Saran Wrap. “Cindy’s famous pralines.”

Susan smiled and took the plate. “It wouldn’t be Christmas without the best pralines in Adelaide.”

They settled near the electric fire, she in her chair. He sat opposite her in a Morris chair.

Susan peeled back the covering, offered him a piece of candy.

He grinned. “Cindy would rap my hand with a ruler, but hey, I think it’s okay if I take just one.” He patted a slightly bulging waistline. “You can’t be married to the best holiday cook in town and not put on a few pounds. Tomorrow she’s making pfeffernuesse cookies.”

Susan chose one of the smaller pralines. She took a bite, nodded in appreciation. “The pecans are wonderful.

Thank you and please thank Cindy. And”—her face was suddenly serious—“thank you for taking time to come to the house. I wanted to talk to you in person. As I told you when I called, everything is upside down here, but for a wonderful reason.”

Wade licked one finger, his face wrinkling in concern. “It is certainly amazing news.” He paused, appeared to pick his words with care. “However, don’t be too hopeful, Susan. Let me check everything out.”

She wasn’t disturbed. “That is precisely what I want you to do. I need verification, but I have no doubt”—she held up the manila envelope—“that these papers are authentic. And these”—she touched the medals ranged on the table next to her chair—“were Mitch’s. But, of course, we must prove that I am Keith’s grandmother and can properly take custody of him.” Her face changed from one of sharp intelligence to somber sadness.

“Poor little Keith. He must scarcely remember Mitch, if at all. And then to have his mother die from pneumonia. It is very important that I gain custody of him as quickly as possible. We’ll need to see about school and his vaccinations, all that kind of thing.”

The lawyer’s big face was anxious. “I know you are excited, Susan. Maybe everything is exactly as it appears. However, it still seems odd that the person who brought him left him alone on the porch. That worries me.”

“We’ll find out the reason.” Her smile was confident. “That is, you, dear Wade, will find out the truth. I know I can count on you. And now, if you will please indulge me, I want to ask a great favor. I know the holidays are almost here and you and Cindy will be off to ski, but I want this settled as quickly as possible.

Move quickly. Spend whatever is necessary. It is the age of the Internet. Please try to confirm Mitch’s marriage and Keith’s birth no later than tomorrow.”

For an instant, he looked stunned, then, with a crooked smile, he nodded. “For you, Susan, I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”

I breathed deeply of
cold air scented by burning leaves and exhaust fumes. The December sky was as clear and distinct and blue as a Delft plate. Cars circled the jampacked Wal-Mart lot seeking a newly vacated spot.

Garlands of evergreens decorated light poles. Scotch pine and firs drew shoppers to a side lot. Outside the main doors, a Salvation Army lady rang her bell.

I kept sight of Peg’s car as she turned into an empty space. I ached to be part of this Christmas scene, the bustle and the crowd, the jostle and the rush. What harm would it do for me to appear? No one knew me. I ducked behind a huge blocky van and swirled into being. I tried not to take too much pleasure in a sea green turtleneck and a boldly patterned plaid wool skirt with a matching block of green. Beauty is always admired in Heaven. Are you listening, Wiggins?

Knee-high saddle-toned suede boots were perfect for crunching through an icy crust left in the parking lot from an earlier storm. Wind gusted from the north. A suede jacket was just right. I reached up, caught the ends of a cashmere scarf, and tied them under my chin. I was invigorated.

I sensed a walrus mustache quivering in distress. If Wiggins appeared, I’d simply urge him to listen to the cheer of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” that echoed through a loudspeaker. Wasn’t I purely and simply in the moment?

Inside, I ducked around family groups, children tugging toward the toy department and impatient women pushing carts piled high with clothes, housewares, electronics, toys, picture frames, and boxes containing furniture to be assembled.

Peg wheeled first to the children’s department. It took a moment for a harried but cheerful sales associate to help her find an appropriate car seat for Keith. Peg picked a sturdy one and plumped it in the basket.

I was close behind Peg and Keith when they reached the boys’ department. Women shifted piles of jeans on tables. Babies cried. A little girl stamped her foot and demanded a Barbie. I was in shopping heaven.

Peg was quick. Soon the cart contained three corduroy trousers, fire-engine red, chestnut brown, and cream, several pairs of jeans, a half dozen nice thick fresh long-sleeved cotton pullover shirts, and a nifty dark blue snow coat.

Keith glimpsed me as she turned him to see how a shirt looked. His eyes brightened and he smiled.

Peg looked at him in surprise.

He pointed and I heard his low murmur. “There’s Jerrie.”

Before Peg’s gaze swung in my direction, I ducked behind a table piled with sweaters and crouched low, pretending to pick something up from the floor. It was fine for Peg to equably accept Keith’s invisible friend, but she might be more than a little curious if Keith’s redheaded friend appeared.

A little girl under the table gazed at me. Pixie glasses gave her eyes an owl-like stare. “I like caves. Do you?”

I smiled. “I love caves. Be sure to say hello to the dragon who lives in the cave.” I pointed behind her. “The one with big sweet brown eyes and green scales. If you give him a hug, it will bring you good luck.” I slowly rose and peered over the mound of sweaters.

Peg was absorbed in finding the right sizes. Finally, she pushed aside a stack of jeans. “These will be perfect.

I think we have everything we need. Now, let’s go to the toy department.” She swung him up to ride in the cart.

When they reached the toy department, Keith’s eyes rounded in amazement.

Peg helped him down. “Let’s pick out three toys.”

Overwhelmed, Keith simply stared.

Peg took him by the hand and they went up and down the toy aisles. When they finished, he clutched a Mr.

Potato Head Spider Spud box and a LEGO building set. Peg pushed him in one cart and behind her pulled another carrying a Cozy Coupe II Car.

I was smiling as I disappeared.

What a lovely day.

A plump dark-haired woman
bustled about the Pritchard kitchen. Christmas cookies cooled on racks on the countertop. Her placid face was relaxed and cheerful. “I’ve baked six dozen cookies. I’m making popcorn balls and candies. We’re going to have the best neighborhood Christmas party ever. This tray”—and she pointed to a lacquerware tray at the end of the counter—“has treats for the house.” She placed a glass of milk on another tray with cookies and a teapot and cups and added a handful of red napkins. “Miss Susan’s excited as she can be. I hope she’s not overdoing. She’s come to the stairs and called down a half dozen times to see if you’re back. You go right up and show her everything.”

Other books

Lost Empire by Cussler, Clive;Grant Blackwood
Tubutsch by Albert Ehrenstein
Paul Bacon by Bad Cop: New York's Least Likely Police Officer Tells All
Thriller by Patterson, James
Student of Kyme by Constantine, Storm
The Black House by Patricia Highsmith
Road Kill by Zoe Sharp