southern ghost hunters 02 - skeleton in the closet (6 page)

Then we'd scoop up the ashes with thin mesh aquarium nets and somehow produce a Frankie.

To be dried in Tupperware and eventually returned to his urn. 

I adjusted my nozzle to a heavy spray and began hosing down the soil in the pool.

Frankie hovered nearby. "You are good at this part," he mused. "All that hosing ashes into the dirt practice really paid off."

Maybe I wouldn't miss him when he was gone. "You realize I'm trying to help you."

I heard the crackle of tires on my rock driveway a few seconds before Ellis's squad car rumbled into view. He parked in back, next to my ancient avocado-green Cadillac, and I could tell he was trying not to stare as he closed his door and approached us. He'd definitely seen me look better.

He still wore his uniform and had most likely come straight from the library. "Doing some gardening?" he quipped.

"More like penance," I told him, keeping my hose aimed at the swirling, muddy mass in the pool. "We think this might be the key to releasing Frankie's spirit."

"Are you sure you're not wearing him?" he joked, rubbing brushing a spot of dirt off my shoulder. 

I smiled at that. "Don't even get him started."

Ellis cocked his head. "Do you have a second?" he asked, growing serious. "I need your help."

I cut the hose and Frankie groaned. "You were about to overflow anyway," I told the gangster. I turned to Ellis. "Let's talk in private," I said, motioning him over toward the porch. "This dirt needs time to settle."

Ellis joined me and we took the back steps together. "We looked for Darla's pink notebook," he said. "It's gone."

I'd figured that when I saw Marshall's evidence bag. "I don't know what she could have found that would drive a person to murder."

"That's the million-dollar question," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He suddenly looked very tired. He was polite enough not to mention the stack of Tupperware on my porch as I brushed the dirt from my dress and led him into the kitchen. 

I closed the door, wishing I could offer him a seat and some sweet tea, but I couldn't afford a kitchen set. "Let's sit on the couch," I said, showing him into my back parlor. I now had two pieces of furniture in the room, thanks to an adventure my sister had sent me on last week. Melody's friend had paid me in used furniture after I solved a ghostly mystery in her resale shop. I didn't mind. I loved my new-to-me purple couch. So did Lucy, although right now she was trying to hide under one of the pillows. Her stealth act didn't quite work with her tail sticking out. 

"Hi, Lucy," he said, giving her a loving stroke on her flank. She flinched and disappeared completely behind the big pillow. "We had some good times," he said. "Am I that easy to forget?"

"It's not you," I assured him, touched that he cared what my skunk thought of him. "Frankie's getting her stirred up. Lucy doesn't care much for the supernatural, and she's still getting used to his moods." 

He nodded. "About last night, the coroner thinks Darla died between three and five in the morning."

My heart sank. "Shortly after she called Melody."

"We'll know more after the autopsy tomorrow morning. Whoever did it also stole the security camera outside. We don't have any witnesses." He paused. "Or at least none that we can talk to." 

A flutter began in my stomach. I knew where this was going. 

Ellis leaned an arm over the back of the couch. "I need your help, Verity."

Oh my. "This isn't a habit I want to encourage," I said, even if I could talk Frankie into helping me. It took a lot of his strength to show me the other side. "I'm not a professional ghost hunter."

"You're good at it," he pressed.

"I almost got us killed last time." He'd hired me to clear out some ghosts in a property he was renovating. It hadn't exactly gone smoothly. "I've never talked to such a new ghost." I didn't even know if Darla could be found. "And aren't you the one who agreed I shouldn't be doing this?"

He shook his head. "You're right," he conceded. "At some point, this has to stop. But not tonight. We need to know what happened in that library. You don't have to talk to Darla. I'll take any witness you can find. The building has got to be haunted," he said. "I've heard stories since I was a kid."

"Well, of course." Sugarland Library had served as a field hospital during the Civil War. No doubt a few well-loved, long-deceased patrons chose to hang around as well. But that didn't mean I could go in there and start chatting up the local ghost population. "The library has crime-scene tape all over it. I'm not even allowed in there."

Ellis fixed his gaze on me. "It also has a twenty-four-hour police presence, and I'm on the force." Right on cue, his radio squawked. The detective's voice took over the line, yelling at somebody. He flipped it off and stood. "Marshall is serious about protecting his crime scene. But I'm on guard duty this evening."

"Of course you are." I knew exactly where this was going.

"Come by after ten," he said, as if it were no big thing. "I'll let you in." Ellis might be a sexy, sweet paragon of justice, but even he had to see how ridiculous this sounded. "This is important," he stressed.

Of course it was. A woman had died, and the police had no idea who killed her. "I know you want to follow up on every lead you can, but how are you even going to introduce any evidence I uncover?"

"Leave that to me." He hesitated briefly before he said more. "Marshall is a solid officer, but he's never led a murder investigation. He's in over his head."

"And you're going to help," I stated.

"We are," he corrected. "Come on, Verity. It's a chance to use your powers for good."

He had a point. "Why can't things just get back to normal?" I asked out loud. Everything had been so simple before.

"I have a feeling it's going to get weirder before it gets better," he said, heading for the door. "Speaking of such, you may want to leave early. My brother is planning to drop by tonight with a ham pizza and a DVD of
The Notebook
."

I about choked, and not just because I didn't like ham on my pizza. You'd think Beau would have realized that by now. 

"I did nothing to encourage him," I said quickly.

Ellis hunkered down to pet Lucy, who had evidently decided he was a good catch and followed him to the door. She rubbed her face into his palm as he scratched her on the head. "I wouldn't be surprised if he stopped by the gas station for roses and massage oil."

I cringed. "You know there's no way on this earth…"

"He says you give a hell of a back rub," Ellis added, as my skunk gave him the kind of loving she usually reserved for fresh bananas.

I had no idea what Beau thought he'd accomplish by showing up unannounced, but he wouldn't make it past my door. I wasn't about to let his grand fool attempt at reconciliation mess up my budding romance with his older brother.

"Ellis, I'd rather sit in a locked room with fifty of Lucy's wild cousins than get back together with Beau." He had to believe that. "You know how stubborn your brother can be. He's not going to drop this until he can't ignore the fact that I've moved on." Then the horror of it hit me. "He might not stop until he knows about whatever is going on between you and me."

Ellis's jaw ticked. "Is there something going on between you and me?" he asked, teasing, but not.

A small laugh bubbled from me. Something going on? I hardly dared to hope. He was the most interesting man I'd met in a long time. And did I mention gorgeous?

I wished I could have been the seductress in that moment, said something to draw him in and let him know how I felt. But I was still trying to figure it out myself. It was bad enough to be the crazy girl in town, the fool who ruined her own wedding day. Did I really need to be known as the girl who started seriously dating her ex-fiancé's brother? 

Then again, it wasn't fair to let Beau keep ruining my chance at happiness.

I hesitated before reaching out and touching the handsome officer on the arm. "You have a murder to investigate. I'll talk to Frankie about tonight."

He posture relaxed and he shifted, his hands buried in his pockets. He glanced past me, as if he was looking at something else. "Where is Frankie?"

"Probably still outside. Overseeing our experiment. I'll find him." And hope he was in a good mood.

Ellis gave a sharp nod. "Thanks." He started to leave, but then stopped suddenly to give me a quick, almost guilty kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you soon."

I watched him go, wishing I could say something to make things right, but unable to imagine what that could be. As his squad car bounced down the gravel driveway, I sighed and closed the door.

"You two are precious," a voice crooned behind me. 

"We are something," I said, turning to find Frankie hovering next to my kitchen island. I wasn't even mad at him for spying. Just the opposite. I needed him to reinstate my ghost-seeing skills, but I didn't want to ask directly. Allowing me into the world of ghosts took a lot of energy, and Frankie wasn't what you'd call a giver. "Did you hear what's going on?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "The gist. You want to use my powers while you moon over some cop. You want me to show you the other side, when there ain't nothing in it for us."

He must not have heard right. "We'd be helping a murder investigation."

He rolled his eyes. "Pfft." 

I was wrong. He'd heard right. He just didn't care. 

"It'd get you out of the house," I told him.

"So will a kiddie pool and a few aquarium nets." Frankie glided straight through the kitchen island. "The library ain't what I had in mind."

"Look, a woman was killed," I said, appealing to his sense of right and wrong. "You know what that's like." He'd refused to tell me much about his death, or who murdered him, but I knew it weighed on him. This was his chance to help someone else avoid that kind of pain.

He took off his hat. "There's no money in it," he said, looking up as if invoking the heavens. "You never go after the money." He shoved his hat back on his head. "It's the first rule when striking a deal. If you're gonna rake me over the coals, we need to benefit." 

I didn't want to be some mobster protégé. "You are not my life coach."

"Your what?" Frankie gave a funny squint. "Don't matter," he said, shaking it off. "Tell you what. We'll start off small. Ask for a few hundred bucks, buy yourself a decent place for your skunk to hide. Maybe buy her some blueberries."

Blueberries were too expensive. Bananas worked fine. And leave it to Frankie to show consideration for the one creature who couldn't care less for him. 

"I'm doing okay. Lucy too." Well, maybe not Lucy. She'd wedged herself back under the covers pretty good.

"She don't like me," the ghost said. I could tell he was bothered by it. "Why don't she like me? I didn't do nothin'."

"I know." They say animals are good judges of character, but in Frankie's case…well, it could be that. But it could also be because ghosts scared wildlife like Lucy. "Look, I don't need to ask for money. My graphic design business should take off any day now. I have a lot of work samples out to local merchants." They were bound to forget about my public shaming and hire me eventually. In the meantime, I'd do what was right. But Frankie had to know; he needed to understand. "My
real
business is art. I'm not a ghost hunter."

"We agree on that," he said, hovering near my skunk. She grunted and buried herself deeper under the covers. Frankie sighed. "We can't keep doing this." 

True. It cost him every time I borrowed his powers, and it wasn't doing anything for my home life, either.

"We won't," I told him. "For all we know, you might be free tomorrow." Although I highly doubted it. "You need to do something while the dirt separates outside."

He shoved his hands into his pockets, making lumps. "What if that doesn't work?"

It was the first time he'd expressed any doubt. I tamped down a twinge of sympathy. I knew he wouldn't want that from me. "If our first try doesn't free you, then we'll try again. And while we work on that, I'll take you out. We'll go someplace fun."

"One with dames," Frankie said. "Blondes with nice stems." 

"Deal," I promised, wondering where that might be. Perhaps he'd enjoy a trip to the farmers' market to look at flowers. But I wouldn't dwell on that right now. I had enough worries about what we'd find in the library.

Chapter Four

W
E
PREPARED
TO
leave early so I could be out of my house before Romeo Beau showed up. I'd bathed and changed into my dress with the blue hydrangeas and the white trim. This one was terribly out of season. I'd have to run by the thrift store soon for something more fall-like. But I'd cleaned and pressed it nice, and it would have to do for this evening. 

I secured the front door of the house and stood in the kitchen giving my bag a final check. 

"What am I missing?" I had a flashlight, my phone, a granola bar, and Frankie's urn. 

I rubbed my thumb on one of the square-cut green stones circling the flare at the top of the urn. It had started to come loose after our last adventure, so I used superglue to stick it back on. It seemed tight enough now.

"You didn't have to tape the top shut," Frankie groused, leaning over me to look into the bag. 

"Oh, yes, I did. We don't want to lose any more of your ashes." There wasn't much of Frankie left. Most of him was under the rosebushes, and now hopefully in the kiddie pool. Still, if we didn't keep a least a little bit of Frankie in that urn, he wouldn't be able to leave the house. He'd be stuck in my rosebushes for eternity. "Urns have lids for a reason." 

If anything, it could use even more masking tape at the top. Burial displays aren't designed to be toted around all over town. Frankie's especially. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but his final resting place didn't appear to be put together very well. The copper felt thin. A healthy dent already gouged the lower half. I owed it to him to keep it as clean and presentable as possible.