Haunted Renovation Mystery 1 - Flip That Haunted House (6 page)

I soaked in the scenery during my ride along
the curvy stretch of highway. Trees showed off their fall shades of
auburn, yellow, and green. Horse farms surrounded by black pasture
fencing sat on each side of the road. Occasionally, moss-covered
stone fences flanked the narrow country path.

As I steered, I daydreamed about my future.
Visions of the old house clean and in perfect condition danced
through my head. My future had endless possibilities, open just
like the road in front of me, but I felt pressure to succeed.

As I navigated the road, I tried to keep
myself from thinking of Payne Cooper, but a terrifying thought
popped into my head: what if the killer really came after me? Say,
oh-I-don’t-know-like, while I was driving to town. I trembled at
the notion. No, I couldn’t live in fear.

The historic section of town was full of old
buildings and cobblestone streets. Brick sidewalks and ornate black
lampposts with matching planters lined the length of Main Street.
Everything anyone needed was right there in town—from an old-time
barbershop to bookstore.

My reason for making the trip was Home
Depot, but I’d caught a glimpse of a new boutique the other day and
couldn’t wait another minute to check it out. I parked my car right
in front, not a lot of shoppers out at that time of the morning.
The cute Sweet Suzie’s sign dangled above the door—a pink
background with a colorful rendering of a round-faced cartoon-style
Suzie. I pushed on the old door and stepped inside. A bell chimed
announcing my entrance. The aroma of cinnamon and other spices hit
me. A comfy feeling enveloped me.

“Welcome to Sweet Suzie’s,” a sweet southern
voice said. A round-faced woman with short brown hair looked up
from her paperwork. “May I help you?”

“Thank you, I’m just browsing. You have a
lovely shop.” I glanced around. Whimsical hand-painted signs with
colorful sayings dotted the walls. Knickknacks lined the many
shelves.

“You’re Alabama Hargrove, aren’t you?” She
asked with a huge smile.

“Yes, I’m Alabama.” I scrunched my brow.

Apparently, I was already the talk of
town.

“I’m Suzie Simmons. I heard about what
happened to you, and let me just say, it’s terrible. How are you
holding up? I can only imagine how you must feel.” She paused to
catch her breath. “It must have been terrible to discover Payne
Cooper like that.”

“I’m doing all right.” I diverted my eyes,
looking around the store. I hoped she would take the hint. Too many
horrific visions popped into my head.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. Are you
looking for something specific?” I could the feeling she was
suspicious of my visit.

“I’m not sure. Everything is so nice. I
suppose I’ll know it when I see it. Your store is so charming.”

“Thank you. That is so sweet of you to
say.”

I sniffed a candle. “This smells
divine.”

“Don’t you just love those? I’m the only
store around these parts that carries them.” She shuffled papers,
then smiled.

“Oh, I guess I need a bunch then.” I
chuckled.

The bell on the door jingled announcing
another customer and we turned to see who’d entered.

“Well, if it isn’t Carolyn. It’s about time
you stopped by,” Suzie said.

I looked at the woman as she moved our way.
Her appearance was if she was going for the fortuneteller-chic
look. Her long auburn hair fell to her shoulders. She wore a long
white skirt that swayed with each swing of her hips and a brown
blouse that reached below her waist with wisps of fabric hanging
from each side.

“I sense tragedy around you. Plus, there’s a
spirit here with you.” She waved her hands through the air.

“Carolyn, this is Alabama Hargrove.” She
informed her with a wink.

“Oh, you are too precious. And so pretty,
too.” Carolyn stared me up and down.

“Alabama, this is Carolyn Flanagan. She’s
not real subtle.” Suzie chuckled. “If you didn’t take her hint,
she’s a psychic.”

“A psychic medium,” Carolyn corrected. “I
see and hear spirits.”

Another psychic in Rosewood? I was surprised
I had heard about her already. Lacey was the only psychic in the
area that I knew of. I needed to get out more. Maybe I stayed home
and moped over my lack of successful career too much.

“Pleased to meet you.” She gripped my hand
in a tight squeeze.

“So you see spirits?”

“That’s right.” She grinned. “But don’t
think I’m crazy or anything.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t. I don’t.”

“There’s a spirit with you here right now,”
she said matter-of-factly.

“I do?” I looked around. This couldn’t be
good.

“An older man is standing right behind you.”
She pointed over my shoulder.

I glanced over my shoulder, but saw no
one.

“He’s attached to you for some reason, but I
don’t know why.”

Okay, this was a little creepy. “I’m not
sure if I like the sound of that.”

Suzie glanced up from her paperwork
occasionally, but she didn’t appear to pay much attention to the
conversation.

“Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have told you.”
She rubbed the sides of her head.

“No, no, I’d rather know. Does he say
anything?”

“No. Nothing. He doesn’t seem to want to
talk.”

“He’s wearing dark pants and a white shirt.
Not from this time period,” Carolyn said.

“Did you just move to town?” I wouldn’t tell
her about my ghost-hunting or my psychic best friend.

“Yes, we just bought a cabin here on a few
acres. Over on highway ten.”

“I live off highway ten. Where did you move
from?” I asked.

“Moved here from Georgia.” She smiled.

“Well, I hope you like it here. Rosewood is
a great town.”

“I’m loving it so far.” She winked.

The only reason she was telling me was
probably because she’d heard about my ghost hunting.

“Alabama, you simply must come by my farm.
I’ll cook us a mess of beans and some cornbread. We’ll chat and
have a grand time.” She patted my arm.

“That’s nice of you to offer. Thanks,” I
said.

“Here’s my number.” She scribbled on a piece
of paper. “Call me.”

She handed Suzie cash for her candles and
headed toward the front of the store. I tucked the paper in my
pocket.

“Don’t forget to call me. My cornbread’s the
best.” She glided out the door.

After contemplating Carolyn’s words for a
few seconds, I snapped out of my reverie and selected a few
candles. Cinnamon roll, handmade cookies, and blackberry
cobbler...if I couldn’t eat dessert, at least I could smell it. I
handed Suzie my money.

“Would you happen to have another one of
those black candle holders?” I asked.

“Sorry, dear, no more, but I did order a few
more. I can let you know when the shipment is in.”

“That would be great. I can check back in
with you. These I love these candles. I won’t be able to resist
your shop.” I took another whiff.

“A regular customer...I like the sound of
that.” She handed me the pink bag containing my purchase. It had
pink and white polka dot tissue paper peeking from the top. “Stop
by anytime you want to take a whiff of the candles.” Her brown eyes
twinkled when she smiled.

“I will.” I waved over my shoulder as I
bounced out the door.

I wondered if the spirit was still following
me? That was the last thing I needed.

The uneasiness had lessened, I realized, as
I stepped onto the sidewalk. I had a spring in my step and new
candles in hand. As I stepped off the curb and strolled to the car,
a loud roar caught my attention. The sound echoed in my head. Muted
chrome and blue zoomed past. My hair swooshed as the wind from the
speed of the car swirled around me, then I fumbled, grabbing the
side of the car to stop from falling. My purse went one way and the
bag of candles went the other.

The blue sedan with dark tinted windows
whizzed down the street. It had barely missed me. The car moved so
quickly that I couldn’t make out who was behind the wheel. My heart
thundered in my chest after nearly being run over. I righted
myself, brushed off my pants, blew the hair out of my eyes, and
glanced around. Had anyone witnessed my near brush with death? I
surveyed my body for injuries. It looked as if I had escaped any
serious harm.

With my near brush with death, a vision of
Payne Cooper flashed in my mind and a chill rippled down my spine.
I shuddered. Would I soon meet the same horrific fate as he had? A
fine mist of rain began to fall, so I snatched up my purse, the
bag, then stumbled to my car and headed to Maple Hill Road as fast
as my dented-up Volvo would take me.

Because of the latest event, I skipped Home
Depot—I was too shaken up. As I maneuvered up the driveway, I
noticed my mother pacing up and down the sidewalk. She held her
hand over her head in a feeble attempt at shielding her big
bouffant hairdo from the drizzling rain.

“Snickers. Snickers. Snickers.” She
attempted to whisper, but her whisper was more of a shout.

I knew why she was calling for Snickers. Her
dog, of course. But to the average sane person, it probably
appeared a crazy woman had escaped an insane asylum and was
requesting a
Snickers
candy bar.

Nosy-neighbor was perched on his front steps
staring over at the circus show.

“I got a
Milky Way
bar over here for
her.” He gave a wicked grin.

I shot him a cross glare as I slammed my car
door shut. He chuckled while continuing to stare.