Nothing to Ghost About (13 page)

Read Nothing to Ghost About Online

Authors: Morgana Best

Tags: #ghosts, #occult, #paranormal, #supernatural, #ghost, #cozy mystery, #ghostly, #witches and wizards, #mystery supernatural, #cozy animals

BOOK: Nothing to Ghost About
8.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub


I wouldn’t call them mood
swings,” I began, but Tara cut me off.


No, but it sounds nicer
than multiple personalities. I doubt you could compete with voices
in his head.” Her tone was light, but I knew she was serious.
“Relax and take it a day at a time. If he really likes you, he’ll
spell it out eventually.”


How long is
eventually?”

Tara fanned herself again. “Who knows?
Men are hard enough to read at the best of times. But what I’d
really like to talk is about is how you put your foot down on your
Mom.”

As I recounted the events to Tara, my
mind was still on Basil. It didn’t sound like much when I told
Tara, but there was something about the way he had looked at me
when he asked me if I shared Mom’s views. And what was up with him
and Anna? Were they really dating? I did not want to think of the
possibility that they were having any sort of relationship. At the
same time, part of me wanted to wash my hands of the whole
thing.

I didn’t know what to
think. I knew there had been something with Basil, one-sided or
not. I hoped there was still something there now, hidden under the
confusion and polite distance. Yet what it was, I had no idea. Did
I
want
to know the
answer? Or would the answer be worse than the wondering?

Tara was concentrating on
her food, and as I wasn’t eating, I turned my thoughts once more to
Preston Kerr’s murder. There were two possibilities. Preston’s
ghost himself had told me that he had overheard the murderer
speaking to Alec Mason’s corpse, admitting to his murder. It was
therefore likely that the murderer of Alec Mason and the murderer
of Preston Kerr were one and the same person. The only caveat was
that Preston Kerr’s wife, Donna, had a solid motive for killing her
husband. I did not think she had the physical strength to strangle
anyone, but she
was
having an affair with Preston’s brother. Preston was the most
insubstantial ghost I had ever met, always fading in and out, and
his trauma could be explained by him being in denial that his own
brother had killed him.

I shook my head. My stomach was
rumbling constantly. I had the shakes from caffeine overload, and
my head was spinning.

I looked up to see Tara speaking into
her cell phone. I’d been so lost in thought that I hadn’t even
noticed it ring.


Gotta run. Sorry, Laurel,”
she said. “Duncan needs the car. Call me later?”

I nodded and followed her out of the
café. Just as I stepped out on the sidewalk, the storm arrived with
a vengeance. I sprinted for the car and tripped on the roadside. I
managed to right myself before falling completely over, unlocked
the car and dived in. I was drenched. I turned on the wipers, only
to see something stuck under one of them.

I jumped out into the driving rain,
grabbed the envelope, and dived back into my seat. It was a parking
ticket for not being within the designated lines of the parking
spot. “How could I park in them?” I yelled. “That idiot behind me
parked across two spots!”


That’s terrible,” a voice
said beside me. I shrieked with alarm. I turned to see Preston
Kerr. I would never get used to ghosts suddenly materializing.
Luckily, no one outside the car had seen me yelling, as no one in
their right mind was out in the storm.


Hi, Preston,” I said,
starting the engine. I needed to get home in case hail was on its
way. Thunderstorms in this district often brought heavy hail, large
enough to put dents in a car. I carefully pulled out onto the road.
I had the wipers set to maximum, but visibility was
poor.


I found out about my
wife,” he said simply.


Preston,” I started, but I
didn’t know what to say. I was a jewelry valuer by profession, not
a psychologist.


Did you know?” he
asked.


Yes. I found out recently.
I’m sorry.” I swerved to avoid a driver who had pulled out in front
of me.


I think I already knew,
deep down,” Preston said sadly. “I finally found out how to go over
to my old home. I saw my brother there.”


I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s
not right, what they were doing.”


That’s life,” he said.
“Sometimes it doesn’t go your way. Well, I guess I don’t get to say
that anymore, do I? That was life for me. At any rate, I don’t
think I care as much as I would have if I were alive.”


I don’t know if this is
any consolation,” I said, “but I don’t think this will bother you
at all once you cross over.”


You’re right,” he said.
“It won’t matter at all. Ernie is really getting on my nerves, and
that’s another reason I hope I cross over soon.”

I shot him a glance, but he had
vanished. I really had to find his murderer, for his sake, and for
the sake of my business.

It was time to focus on the
mayor.

 

 

Chapter 18

I needed a reason to speak with the
mayor, and I had a good one. I was a registered jewelry valuer. The
mayor’s family heirloom jewelry had been stolen. That was an in
right there. I wanted to see if his anger over the theft was enough
to give him a motive for murdering Alec Mason.


I’d like to make an
appointment with the mayor,” I said to the abrupt woman on the
other end of the phone.


Regarding what?” she asked
curtly.


Jewelry,” I
said.


Jewelry,” came the woman’s
snarky reply. “Today at four?”

I was surprised that it was that easy.
“Yes, thanks,” I said.

She hung up.


All right then, thanks so
much,” I said sarcastically to thin air.

At ten minutes before four I was
sitting in a small waiting room outside the mayor’s office. The
woman I had spoken to on the phone sat at a small desk behind a
glass screen. When I had announced myself, she had nodded, but not
looked at me.

Four came and went, and then so did
four thirty, and the door to the mayor’s office hadn’t opened once.
At four forty-three it finally did, and the mayor appeared. He was
a short man with hair exactly like Donald Trump’s. It was the
precise style and the precise color. The fact that he was so short
was a good thing, because everyone, even short people, could see
more of his amazing head of hair. He wore thin-framed glasses that
glinted gold in the bright, artificial light.

He came forward and shook my hand, and
then ushered me into his office. I was still staring at his
hair.


Ms. Laurel Bay?” he said
with a slimy smile.

The mayor nodded to a plush green
leather chair and indicated that I should sit in it. He took his
place in a much taller chair behind his large oak desk. The walls
were lined with bookcases crammed with old books that didn’t look
as if they had ever been touched, or for that matter,
dusted.


So, you wish to speak
about jewelry?” he said.

I nodded. “I own Witch Woods Funeral
Home.”

The mayor nodded. “I was so sorry to
hear about your father,” he said. “We actually had my mother’s
service with him three years ago, and he really went out of his way
for me.” Then the mayor smiled a snake-like smile and leaned
forward. “Of course, when you’re the mayor, everyone goes out of
the way for you. It’s a perk of the job!”

I forced a laugh.


I’m intrigued. Please tell
me what you mean when you say you want to talk jewelry with me,” he
continued.


Your wife came over to my
mother’s house for dinner recently.”

The mayor nodded. “She was excited to
get out for a change, instead of waiting for me at home. And I got
to stop and pick up a hamburger for dinner without feeling too bad
about it, so we both thank you! She’s always on me about my bad
eating habits.”

I smiled again. The mayor was really
working me over, trying to be a likable and charming person. I
could just see him kissing babies for newspaper photos.


She told us about your
mother’s stolen jewelry,” I said.

His mood at once darkened. His eyes
narrowed, and his nostrils flared. “That man!” he said with a shake
of his head.

I nodded. “I did Alec Mason’s
funeral.”

The mayor looked at me for a moment.
“Did you know he was a criminal?”


Yes, and I know he was
murdered.”

The mayor frowned. “I am sure people
in organized crime don’t last long. He stole from people who worked
hard for what they have. I can never replace what he stole from me.
It had sentimental value, you understand. It wasn’t about the
money.”


Your wife is quite upset
about the whole thing.”

The mayor nodded. I wondered if he
knew that wasn’t true. She hadn’t liked her mother-in-law and so
she didn’t much care for the woman’s jewelry—at least, if she was
telling the truth.


I’m a registered jewelry
valuer,” I said. “I’d still be working as a valuer now in Melbourne
if I hadn’t inherited the funeral home. I thought I could help
you.”


How so?” the mayor asked
me.


If you would send me the
insurance photos of the missing items, I can send them to all my
contacts. I realize that the police would’ve put them in a database
already. I know it’s a long shot, but I do have good contacts in
the business for high-end jewelry.”

The mayor nodded. “Thank you. If
you’ll give me your email address, I’ll email you the
photos.”


That would be
great.”

The major opened a desk drawer and
pulled out some photos. “These aren’t insurance photos, of course,
but at least you can get an idea of the jewelry. There’s the
necklace.” He held up a photo of an elegantly dressed, elderly
woman in an evening gown. “Mom, at her wedding anniversary at the
Park Hyatt in Sydney. That was five years ago, the year before Dad
died. Mom was one of the Hunters, you know.”

I didn’t know. The Hunters were one of
the wealthiest mining families in Australia.

The mayor leaned over the desk and
dropped the photos in front of me.

I stared at the photos, my reason for
being here forgotten for the moment. Sure, I didn’t have my 10x
lens, but I could tell the quality of the jewelry from the
photos.

The ring had a huge pear-shaped yellow
diamond in the center surrounded by white diamonds. To color grade
the white diamonds properly, I would normally need comparison
stones and have them unset, but just by looking at them I could see
that the color was better than a G. Despite the fact that
pear-shaped diamonds are worth less than round brilliant cuts, it
was nevertheless obvious that this stone was unique and very
costly. It would be easy to identify once it was found. There
couldn’t be too many stones around like that.

I estimated the size to be around 7
karats, perhaps even more depending how deeply the stone had been
cut. If the colored diamond had a certificate from the Argyle mines
in Australia, stating that they’d been mined there, the values
would be greater. Better diamonds are often laser inscribed on the
girdle with a number for identification, and this made them
traceable.

Why hadn’t the stolen jewelry come to
light? I could only assume it had never hit the market. That meant
that one or more people in the gang were holding onto the pieces,
perhaps for their wives or girlfriends.

I peered at the photos once more. The
earrings looked to be yellow and white gold, with cushion cut
yellow and white diamonds. They were probably worth more than
twenty thousand dollars, as was the yellow and white diamond
ring.

When I saw the photo of the tennis
bracelet, I gasped. The diamonds were enormous, and unusual Asscher
cuts. If the setting was platinum, the bracelet alone would be
worth around a quarter of a million dollars. I looked back up at
the mayor. “Wow,” I said. “This would be worth a small
fortune.”

He nodded. “Yes, but it’s not the
money. It’s the sentimental value. This jewelry had been in my
mother’s family for years. They were my mother’s favorite pieces.”
His face went bright red and his cheeks puffed. He loosened his
tie. For a moment, I was afraid he was going to have a heart attack
or a stroke.

Had he killed Alec Mason and then
killed Preston Kerr? I had no idea. He did harbor a lot of
resentment toward Alec Mason, but that was surely to be expected,
given the circumstances. The mayor appeared to be nice enough, and
normal—apart from his hair—but then I supposed all killers appeared
to be normal, at least to some degree. At a stretch, I could
perhaps see him stealing a car to hit Alec Mason, but would he go
so far as to strangle an innocent man to cover his
tracks?

 

 

Chapter 19

I was surprised to see a pick-up truck
parked in the driveway of Mom’s house. It was white with big silver
splotches where the paint had worn away. It looked like something
someone would buy for two hundred bucks. Even more surprising,
there was a ladder at the side of Mom’s house and there was a man
on the roof.

Other books

Offline by Kealan Patrick Burke
Wideacre (Wideacre Trilogy) by Philippa Gregory
Away in a Manger by Rhys Bowen
Easter Bunny Murder by Leslie Meier
The House by the Church-Yard by Joseph Sheridan le Fanu
Smoky Mountain Setup by Paula Graves
Save Me From Myself by Stacey Mosteller