The driveway was overgrown and marked with potholes. I felt smug when I reached the porch and saw that it was clearly too dangerous to walk on. Then I went around the back of the house instead and found broken windows and spray paint. Someone had done an excellent drawing of a red car.
The back of the house didn’t look much better than the front. The door was hanging off its hinges. Various items had been left in the back yard or discarded there, as if it was a junkyard.
I went up to the back door, which was still shut, and tried the handle, which was locked. I would need to either break in or find out who owned the place.
Then, all of a sudden, a creeping feeling rolled down my spine. I glanced around to see if someone was watching me, but there was no one in sight. Still, I decided to find the cat and get out of there.
I started calling, at the same time wondering why I hadn’t brought any cheese or treats with me.
After looking around for a few minutes and getting no response, I gave up for the moment. Frustrated with the futile effort, I headed back home to rethink the problem.
As I walked up our driveway, Greer came out the front door. She intentionally let it slam and Paws woke up with a start.
“Do you have cheese?” Paws asked Greer.
She told him she didn’t.
“When are you going to make her move out?” the cat complained.
“I like having her here,” I said. “Just go back to sleep.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grumbled. “Where are you coming from?”
“I was at the manor house across the street,” I explained.
“There are a few crazy ghosts that like to hang out there,” said Paws.
“Why didn’t you mention that before?” I asked.
“Because sharing is caring,” he explained. Then he settled his chin back on his paws and closed his eyes.
Greer came down the steps shaking her head. “Did you find the cat?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “I need to go back with cat treats. I called, but a stray probably isn’t just going to come to me. The house is locked even though there are several broken windows.”
Greer shivered. “That was never a place I wanted to go. Even in high school it was creepy. Much better to hang out at the mall.”
“Yeah, it’s been abandoned for a long time. Maybe I’ll go over there tonight and see if I can meet these ghosts that Paws claims are there,” I said. Maybe they could tell me where the stray cat liked to hang out.
“Mom says she’ll meet us at the Cozy Bucket,” said Greer. “She was surprised that I wanted to have lunch. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m going to tell her I’m pregnant or something equally horrible.” She chuckled. “That would be fun.”
We got into the Beetle and headed for Pennwood. It didn’t take long to get there, but even so, Greer’s mother there before us. We could tell from the BMW parked out front.
There was a line out the door. The Cozy Bucket was a well-known, popular lunch spot.
“Maybe we’ll have to wait,” I muttered.
But Greer just led onward past the people in line, looking for her mother along the way. At first we saw no sign of her. The restaurant was just as busy inside as out, bustling with nicely dressed people in suits and dresses.
When I first walked in I couldn’t distinguish one face from another. Then I saw Greer’s mother sitting at a table by herself in a far corner next to a window. Some might think that she had the best table in the place.
“I don’t know how she does it,” Greer muttered as we made our way over to the table.
I hadn’t seen Mrs. Dice recently, in part because she didn’t approve of the way her daughter was living her life. Greer had an inheritance that she didn’t want to use. She hadn’t figured out what she wanted to do with herself, so she was working as a bartender, a fact that her mother hated.
Mrs. Dice thought that a girl like Greer should have chosen a path long since. And that path should have been that she would get married and take care of three houses while her husband worked at some fancy finance job and they had three kids that they talked to only as much as they had to.
That was life.
Obviously.
“Hi, Mom,” said Greer.
Mrs. Dice rose and kissed her daughter on the cheek. “How are you? You look pale. What are those pants?”
“They’re boyfriend jeans. They’re comfortable,” said Greer as she sat down.
Mrs. Dice, elegant in a black dress with a black coat, floated back into her seat. “Hi, Lemonia,” she said with a cool nod.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Dice. Thank you for having lunch with us,” I said as I sat down next to Greer.
Mrs. Dice’s lips thinned. “It isn’t often that your only daughter asks you to lunch with her best friend in tow. If I didn’t know better I would have thought you had bad news,” she said, her eyes fixed on Greer.
My friend had been right. Mrs. Dice thought that the only reason Greer would want to get together was to tell her mother something terrible.
“Actually, that’s not it at all,” said Greer. “How are things with you?”
Mrs. Dice’s thin eyebrows rose. “Things are fine. I’ve been keeping busy. Mrs. Dolphin is causing trouble on the Historical Committee, so that has been taking up a good deal of my time.”
Her eyes flicked behind me as she said it. Clearly she wanted to make sure that no one who knew Mrs. Dolphin was listening. From the hum of noise it sounded like everyone was preoccupied with their own conversations.
“She’s always causing trouble,” Greer agreed.
A waiter appeared, a young man who looked terrified. He put a greenish soup down in front of Mrs. Dice.
“I took the liberty of ordering an appetizer since I had no hope that you would arrive on time,” she explained.
If the clock in the Beetle was right we had pulled into the parking lot with three minutes to spare. I knew better than to mention it.
Mrs. Dice picked up her spoon. The waiter stood by. I readied myself to catch him if he keeled over from fright.
Mrs. Dice dipped the spoon into the soup and tasted it.
“It will do,” she said eventually.
The waiter’s shoulders sagged with relief and asked for our orders. Mrs. Dice wanted a salad. Greer was having a sandwich, and I decided on pasta.
There was a brief pause as the waiter collected our menus and scampered away to his brief freedom.
Mrs. Dice nodded her head. “Are you going to tell me why you asked me to lunch or not? I’m not so foolish as to think that it is for the pleasure of my company,” she said.
Greer sighed. “Always to the point. I wanted to share a few pleasantries first, but I see you want to know what’s going on, and I don’t blame you. I asked you to lunch because I wanted to know if you knew Earl Earle from Mintwood Real Estate when I was in high school.”
Whatever Mrs. Dice had expected her daughter to say, it was not that. She blinked twice, but quickly regained control.
One did not get thrown off one’s stride for long if you were Mrs. Dice.
“I can’t say that I knew him. When I worked with Mintwood Real Estate we only ever dealt with the owner. He never let any of the other agents work with us. Since we were one of his best clients, he assisted us personally.” Mrs. Dice looked off into the distance. “There was a woman I remember. Ms. Vertigo maybe? I can’t really say. She simpered. She once came along on one of our house hunts. She didn’t know much, though, and I told Orien not to bring her again.”
“Orien is the owner?” Greer asked.
“Orien Oakley,” Mrs. Dice agreed. “He still owns the place. We still work together, although not as much. Your father and I are well settled. When the boys want another house we might go to him, but now there’s the Plymouth house and the Maymouth houses for them to choose amongst.” Mrs. Dice looked like she was considering saying something more. I had a feeling it was about the house Greer could have if she want
ed it.
Next to me my friend tensed.
Mrs. Dice thought better of whatever she had been about to say. “Why do you want to know?” she asked instead.
“You may have heard that the Hayview property has been sold?” said Greer.
Mrs. Dice turned her eyes on me. She must have known that I was seeing Jasper Wolf. She slowly looked back at Greer and said, “Yes, it’s been all over the papers.”
“A skeleton was found on the property this morning. We remembered that Earle was the real estate agent and that he went missing. I thought you might have known him,” explained Greer.
Mrs. Dice sat back in her chair. While she was staring at us, the poor waiter returned with our meals, and after that we ate in silence for a few minutes. After a while Mrs. Dice said. “Why are you looking into this?”
“Charlie is an investigative reporter,” said Greer.
“Charlie isn’t here,” said Mrs. Dice.
“She’s working another angle,” said Greer.
Mrs. Dice clearly only half believed her daughter, but she let that go too. The woman was a regular sieve today.
“I can put you in touch with Oakley if you’d like. I don’t know how much help he’ll be, but I’m sure he’d like to know if his employee has been found. He was pretty broken up about it at the time,” she said.
“We’d appreciate that,” I told her.
“How’s Jasper? Good?” Mrs. Dice asked, then she bent her head to her meal and didn’t look up again until she’d cleared her plate.
After lunch we waited by the BMW while Greer’s mom made a phone call.
“He says he’s very busy today, but you can go over there first thing tomorrow morning,” said Mrs. Dice.
“Thanks, Mom. I appreciate it,” said Greer.
After we said our goodbyes, we made our way to the Beetle. I had the distinct impression that Mrs. Dice did not want to be seen anywhere near the junker car.
“If I’d had to spend ten more minutes with my mother I would have gotten up, shoved my way to the bar, hopped to the other side, and poured myself a drink,” said Greer. “From now on we only do dinner with my family, when it’s acceptable to have wine.” She shook her head and sighed.
“Couldn’t you have just ordered a cocktail?” I said.
She glared at me. “Not dramatic enough.”
“Now what do we do?” I wondered.
“Let’s check in with Charlie. We probably have better cell service here,” said Greer.
We sat in the Beetle while Greer called the office of the Mintwood Gazette. Whomever Greer talked to told her that Charlie was on her way home.
“She must have a lead,” I said.
We headed back to the farmhouse. It sounded as if Charlie was going in that direction to meet us. I certainly hoped so.
As we drove, my mind wandered to Jasper and his sister. This Hayview deal must be really big if she was coming back from wherever she usually was. Now that I thought about it, I realized that Jasper hadn’t mentioned his sister much, and I wondered why. She looked a lot like him, and I was thankful for that. If Charlie and Hansen hadn’t pointed out the resemblance, I would have been stewing all day about who the strange woman might have been.
Jasper had gotten me involved with this case because he knew I could find the ghost of Earle. I wondered if there was some connection between that assumption and the arrival of his sister, but I couldn’t imagine what it could be.
I wondered if he also knew that finding the ghost meant we’d have to return to Hayview after hours. The ghost had to be somewhere close by; I had never seen him at the cemetery, so the most likely thing was that he was still be hanging out at the mall all these years later.
We drove up to the farmhouse in the late afternoon and found Charlie’s Volvo already there. Paws was no longer on the porch, and there was no sign of the other ghosts. Paws still didn’t know we had a new case, but he would soon be informed, because I intended to have him join us at Hayview later in the evening.
Charlie was in the living room, still dressed for work.
“Hey! Earle’s wife agreed to meet with me. I thought you two might want to come, but we have to go now. She has garden club tonight.”
“She was unpleasant, if I remember correctly,” said Greer.
“If our phone conversation is anything to go by she still is, but I have to talk to her anyhow,” said Charlie.
“I’ll go,” I said.
“I think I’ll stay here and take a very long shower. Maybe I can wash off my mother’s disdain,” said Greer, scrubbing at her arms.
“You’ll need strong soap,” said Charlie.
Greer just rolled her eyes.
Charlie and I headed back out. Today was turning into a busy day of interviews, and I suspected tomorrow would be more of the same, except that I would have Cesar to look after as well.
“Do you know who owns the Portrait property?” I pointed across the road and the field toward it.
“Pretty sure the bank. They foreclosed on it years ago and it’s been for sale ever since,” said Charlie.
“Helen the postmistress called to say there’s a stray cat living it up over there. I need to catch him,” I said.
“Intriguing. I haven’t seen a cat,” said Charlie.
“Paws says there are also ghosts over there,” I said.
“I’m surprised he hasn’t driven them away,” said Charlie.
“He probably will soon,” I said as we got into the Volvo.
We drove to Applewood, where the widowed Mrs. Earle lived. Applewood was a rich town, though not as rich as the ones on the coast. As in a lot of places, there were nicer parts and parts that weren’t so nice.
Mrs. Earle lived in the very nicest part of town in an ugly brick house that stood out like a sore thumb. It had a fake pond on one side and the street on the other.
We drove in and went up to the door. Charlie rang the bell.
Nothing happened.
She rang the bell again.
Charlie looked up at the imposing house.
“Maybe she isn’t home,” I said.
“I called and she said I could come over. She didn’t say anything about not being home.” Charlie scrutinized the door as if the inanimate object was lying to her.
“Maybe she misunderstood what time you meant,” I said half-heartedly.
We were just about to leave when I heard a yip.
“Around back,” I said. I followed the perfectly formed cobblestones around to the back of the house.
There was an epic pool with a fence was around it. Inside of it was a yapping little white dog.
“They’re so loud. Must drive the neighbors crazy,” said Charlie.
“Oh no!” I cried and raced forward.
A woman’s body floated quietly in the crystal clear water of the pool.
Chapter Seven
Mrs. Earle was dead . . . apparently drowned. The dog had not been barking at us but at Mrs. Earle. It turned out that the dog really cared about Mrs. Earle.
The Applewood police arrived within minutes. Charlie explained that we had come to speak with Mrs. Earle about her missing husband. The Applewood detective found that terribly interesting and took a lot of notes, then called Detective Cutter since we said we knew him. I imagined his face when he heard that I was involved in the investigation into the murder of this woman’s husband. He would not be pleased.
The Applewood detective raised his eyes at me when he got on the phone with the Mintwood police. Clearly Detective Cutter wasn’t happy to be hearing from him.
After a couple of hours, which we spent sitting around waiting to speak with investigators while no one told us anything, the Applewood police sent us away. We were both in a daze when we left.
Charlie would be writing an article for the next morning’s paper. “I had just spoken to her,” she said, mystified.
I was driving because Charlie didn’t appear to be in any condition to do so. The Volvo was mu
ch easier to drive than the Beetle, maybe because the floor wasn’t so drafty.
“Did she sound ill? Was anything amiss?” I asked.
“She was very dismissive of me,” said Charlie, shaking her head. “I didn’t get the impression that she cared about her husband at all. She said I could come by, but I suspected it was more so she could give me a piece of her mind than anything else.” Charlie shivered.
“We’ll be home soon,” I told her.
When we got home it was full dark. Paws was shimmering brightly on the porch and giving Tank a piece of his mind . . . which explained why he had so little left for himself.
When the two ghosts saw us, they paused in their bickering.
“Charlie, darling! Light of my life! What has happened?” Paws asked when he caught sight of Charlie’s pale, gaunt face.
“Oh, is that what she is?” Tank snorted.
“She’s a delight! But she looks upset right now.” Paws looked Charlie up and down and then sniffed her. Right on cue he gave me an accusatory look.
Charlie sat down heavily on the steps. We had first left the farmhouse that morning when the sun was up and it was relatively warm outside.
Now it was cold.
I popped inside and grabbed us both thicker jackets. I wrapped Charlie’s around her shoulders as she stared at the shimmering white fence that circled the field.
“It’s been a day,” I told Paws and Tank.
“Tell us all about it. Is there anything we can do to help?” Tank asked.
“There’s a lot that needs to be done,” I said now that I thought about it.
“Start from the beginning,” Tank said encouragingly.
“The day started with a murder. Funny enough, that’s how it ended, as well,” I said.
“Not the same individual, I hope,” said Tank.
“Of course not, you idiot,” said Paws. “Rabbits.”
“I’ve never seen a dead body before,” Charlie whispered.
“You’ve seen a few skeletons,” I said, hoping to sooth her. In fact, we’d found a few skeletons in pretty depressing circumstances. Charlie had always been fine before.
Miraculous Mintwood Magic Page 5