"It doesn't work that way. You have to choose to move on."
"And if I don't?"
"Then you linger."
"That sounds boring."
"Before you leave, can you do me a favor?" I ask.
"Didn't I just save your life?" One corner of her mouth lifts.
"Tomorrow morning. Not now. Now, rest. I'm going to bed."
* * *
I'm just drifting off, somewhere between consciousness and sleep, when I hear a creak. My eyes shoot open, and my senses are on high alert. Both of my doors are locked. I checked again before I went to bed. I have no intention of waiting and ending up in a dangerous situation. My bedroom door is shut. If someone is in the living room, they're not getting in here.
I reach for my phone on the nightstand and grab the corner of my covers, ready to flip them off me, so I can jump up and find a way to protect myself. I totally forgot to bring the knife to bed with me.
Suddenly a dark shadow flies at me from the other side of the bed.
"It's about time they left," Tanya says as she lands half to my side and half on me.
She's been here the whole time?
This idea creeps me out, and I scream from fear alone.
Before she gets her stun gun on me again, I smack my phone into the side of her head.
She cries out, and I push and kick until I'm no longer on the bed. I run into the living room and hear her right behind me.
The light above the stove is on. I must've forgotten to turn it off, which is great. It bathes the main room enough for me to see everything.
I grab a bar stool and turn and swing at the same time. It hits her bicep but isn't enough force for her to lose her step. She's still holding her evil torture device too.
"Where were you? The police searched this whole place."
Her smile is a little eerie. "Not under your bed."
Confirming my suspicions doesn't help. I'm even more spooked.
"Why? Steven is the killer. You could've gone home." Okay, so the police still want her too, but there's no reason for her to be here. I step backwards as she advances at me.
My phone screen is cracked, and I'm not even sure if it'll work. She's too close for me to turn and unlock the door before she can tase me. My best bet is to find a way to stop her from inside my apartment.
Walking backwards, I turn toward the living area and immediately regret it. I should've gone to the kitchen with the shiny knives. The only thing that is in my reach on this side is the remote. Maybe I can grab a lamp or two. My mind is spinning with possibilities, and Tanya keeps getting closer.
"Well?" I ask. "Why are you here?"
"You ruined everything. Did you think I wouldn't make you pay?"
"You made that anonymous tip, but the police didn't suspect Steven, so why bother?"
"Mom later told me what the two of you discussed at the nail salon. Her bringing up the lottery ticket yet again. Your brother is a cop. Kevin likes you for some reason. It was only a matter of time before you or one of them figured it out."
"Does Mrs. Porter know her ticket is a winner?" I ask and hope she doesn't.
"No, she's in bed by ten. Steven sometimes checks and tells her she didn't win the next day."
"And this time, he didn't bother because then she'd wonder if her own son killed her daughter."
Tanya doesn't react to my words, and it makes me realize that in those moments when I thought she cared about Mrs. Porter, she was just an excellent actress.
"And the cooler. You locked us in? Why? I wasn't even looking for Hilary's killer."
"At the diner, I learned your brother is a cop."
So all of this was her fear that I'd figure out the truth, but in reality, if she'd just stayed out of it, I never would have gotten involved.
"You're a fool. None of this would've come out if you hadn't raised my suspicion with the cooler and made that anonymous call. I was staying out of it, and Hilary kept telling me Kevin killed her. She was protecting Steven. You did this. You got the police involved and let his secret out."
The look of realization hits her face hard, and if I wasn't trying to stay alive, I'd have a smug moment of enjoyment. But I don't.
I grab the remote and throw it at her. Luck must be on my side because it hits the center of her forehead, confusing her long enough for me to charge at her hand holding the stun gun and knock it to the floor.
She leans down to grab it, and I kick it toward the couch. It slides under, and while I'd like to shout "score," there's no time. Instead, I shove her.
She's caught unbalanced for a second, and I use that to kick at her knee and elbow her in the side of the head as she goes down. Ha! All of that time bingeing crime shows has come in handy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Tanya and Steven are in custody. The cops only had to go to Mrs. Porter's home to find him. He didn't try to run. In fact, Enzo says that he was explaining what happened to his mother when they arrived. It's all so sad really. That poor woman has lost two children.
I asked Julian to ask Mr. Hamilton to help Steven. I truly believe he didn't mean to kill Hilary. Not Tanya though. She deserves everything that's coming to her.
Now Hilary and I stand in Winnie's living room, talking to the ghost that can't remember which house is hers.
"The second presence feels calm," Winnie says about Hilary.
I stare at my dead ex-friend and nod. "She is now."
"I appreciate this, Gianna. It'll be nice to not fear living in my home anymore."
I hear that. I finally got a full night of sleep last night. Uninterrupted, with a knife under my pillow. I squeeze Winnie's hand and hope this works.
Hilary points at the back of the house to Betty, and they float through the living room wall.
"Come on," I say and follow through the dining room and into the sunroom.
Winnie and I stand at the back windows, and I watch the ghost follow Hilary through the backyard and the bushes separating the properties.
"What's going on?" Winnie asks.
I tell her what I see, and we wait in silence.
It doesn't take long for Hilary to reappear. Alone.
She enters the sunroom and says, "She's there for now. She recognized the fireplace. I think I can get her to move on with me."
"So you're ready to leave?" I ask.
"Almost. I'd like to say goodbye to Kevin."
Oh, this should be fun.
* * *
We wait until nightfall to go to the deli. I don't want Ma, Pop, and customers to be there when I take Hilary and Winnie's ghost to the freezer. Plus, Kevin doesn't answer his phone for most of the day.
Now the four of us are in the freezer, with the door securely propped open and my new phone in my hand. Just in case.
The ghost is looking around in wonderment. She touches the back wall and whoosh, she's gone. Hilary and I exchange startled looks.
"What's going on?" Kevin asks.
"It's not important. Hilary is ready to move on, and she wants to say bye."
He nods and stares at the back wall. I point to where she stands beside him.
"I'm sorry I used you," he says. "I didn't mean to, not consciously, not on purpose."
Her smile is soft. "I should've known. The first thing you ever said to me was about Gianna. Don't worry. I'm okay now. I just wish we could've had this conversation while I was still alive."
I repeat every word she says and try to get her inflections right as well. When I'm done, he genuinely looks upset.
"I will always remember you, Hilary. We had some great times too."
She laughs. It sounds like it stems from sarcasm and not joy. "Yeah, in the beginning, before we married. I'm sorry I wasn't honest about my feelings and about all of the spending. Sorry about the debt."
He chuckles and shrugs. "It's fine."
"Goodbye, Kevin. Have a good life. Now I'd like a quick moment alone with Gianna."
I tell him her wishes, and he says by
e and steps into the kitchen.
Hilary hovers closer to me. "I never should've told Michael, Kevin, or Brenda your secret. And no, I didn't tell the mailman."
We both smile.
"It wasn't right, and I'm sorry," she says.
There it is. The one thing I've been waiting a decade for.
"Thank you. I'm sorry I stayed mad for so long. And that you're dead. That really stinks."
She widens her eyes. "Right?"
We chuckle.
She nods toward the kitchen. "I'd say look out for him, but he'd enjoy that too much."
I laugh loud and notice Kevin glance our way from the corner of my eye.
Hilary shrugs. "I guess I'm not fully over it all, but I'm ready to move on. Oh, while I've been dead, I visited your parents' house. It holds a lot of fond memories for me."
My chest tightens, and I try to not get misty-eyed.
"I peeked into the basement because I heard your mother humming 'It's a Wonderful Life.' I forgot how much I missed her singing. What's down there?"
I chuckle and fill her in on Ma's weird collection.
Her brows rise, and she laughs. "Well, I wouldn't want to not be a part of it all. Have my mom give you something for her. You'll figure out how to handle it. Bye, Gianna."
"Bye." My voice cracks, and I look away. Her sudden generosity means more than I can say.
I call Kevin back in, and we stand side-by-side as Hilary goes to the back wall, glances over her shoulder, and glides through.
"She's gone," I whisper.
We stare at the wall for another minute, and then we leave and I lock up.
I walk with him to his car parked beside mine. "Now that the truth is out, do you go back to work?"
It's a bright day, and I need to shield my eyes with my hand. It's still hotter than I like, but at least the humidity is down today.
"I'm not staying in town," Kevin says.
"Oh?" I'm not expecting that.
"I put in for a transfer. I need to clear my head, and I figure a new town may help that," he says with a grin.
It makes sense.
"Where will you go?" I ask.
"I have some family in Pennsylvania. It seems nice there."
I wish I could say I'll miss him, but that's not exactly true. I am sorry he feels he needs to leave though. This is his home.
"I'll be back. Eventually. Maybe." He doesn't sound convincing.
I grin. "Nah, you'll meet some new babe and never think about us again."
He smirks. "Maybe that's not a bad thing."
Something comes over me, and I lean into him to give him a hug. He holds on a tad longer than he probably should. I don't push away only because I know I'll never see him again. It's a hunch.
"Don't forget me," he says while opening his car door.
"How can I? You'll always be that jerk."
We laugh, and I stand there until he drives off.
* * *
The next day I go to the office at my usual time and find Julian standing at his desk, on the phone. He looks up as I pull the door open, and for a split second, he looks guilty. Then he smiles, and my stomach flips. I love that grin, that dimple, that face.
He hangs up and says it was his boss. "Everything okay?" he asks.
"Yep. You?"
"Yes, fine," he says, but I see his hesitation.
"This isn't working, is it?" I ask.
He looks momentarily frightened. "Us?"
I frown and laugh hard. "No, not us. The morning you brought me muffins is the day I knew we were fine. It's this place. Being a PI working toward not being a fixer."
He doesn't say anything, and that tells me I'm right.
"You love your job at the law firm. You love helping Mr. Hamilton's clients," I say.
He steps out from behind his desk. "Yes, I do, but I love you more."
"Oh, I hope so." I laugh again because it's sweet of him to say, but I never doubted his feelings for me.
"But you can't sacrifice your passion for our relationship. You'll end up resenting me. That's the last thing I want," I say.
"Where does that leave us, then?" he asks.
I've been thinking about this since I said goodbye to Hilary and Kevin, when I had quiet time, in between the family calling and checking in to make sure I'm okay. It's the best solution for Julian and me.
"You continue to fix. I don't have to love it. I can live with it though."
"Are you sure?" There's no doubt of the relief on his face.
"Yes." And I am. The truth is that, while I don't ever want him to get caught and it's something I'll have to continue to keep from my family, I also believe he needs to be happy. And this work seems to fill his soul. I don't get why, but I don't have to.
Plus, the longer I lie to the cops about how I know things that ghosts tell me, the more I realize that I dabble in the gray area too. Just like he said. Life isn't just black or white. It's everything in between.
He walks to me and gently grabs my upper arms. "I promise I'll make sure it never involves you and your family. I'll triple check everything before I lift a fixing finger."
I pull free and wrap my arms around his neck. "And this place?"
He pulls me in real close. "I don't know. I have a few clients, and I enjoy seeing you behind that desk in your pencil skirt."
I playfully roll my eyes. "Maybe I should become a PI."
He groans. "I already worry about you enough."
"But then I'll be trained and licensed with a deadly weapon." I quirk an eyebrow.
His groans become louder.
"Maybe I could be a GPI," I say with an enormous smile.
"What's that?" he asks.
"A ghost PI. I help ghosts cross over by hunting whatever they need."
"Isn't that what you already do?" he asks.
I cock my head to the side. "True. Not a bad idea then."
"And how will you get paid? Ghosts don't have money."
"No, but they leave behind things, and it would thrill Ma to add to her murderabilia."
We chuckle at my absurdity.
"Do we have to figure it out now? It's not like I'm closing up this office today," he says.
"Sure. It can wait."
He kisses the tip of my nose. "Good. Let's go grab breakfast before my meeting at my other office."
I step out of his embrace. "Sounds great."
As we walk outside, I say, "Oooh, maybe I can be an FPI."
He glances over his shoulder while locking the door. "A food PI?"
My grin strains my cheeks. "You know me so well."
* * * * *
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* * * * *
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jennifer Fischetto is the USA Today bestselling author of the Gianna Mancini paranormal cozy mystery series, as well as a dozen other titles. She writes family-centric murder mysteries and things that go bump in the night.
A lover of rainstorms and snow, she prefers fiction over reality and longs to live in a world where French fries grow on trees, chocolate appears whenever desired, and every day is October. She watches too much television and movies, which fuel her never-ending supply of plot ideas, and is a rabid fan of suspense, horror, and everything supernatural.
You can learn about her next book by subscribing to her newsletter at: https://jenniferfischetto.com/newsletter/
* * * * *
BOOKS BY JENNIFER FISCHETTO
Gianna Mancini Mysteries:
Lipstick, Lies & Dead Guys
Christmas, Spies & Dead Guys (holiday short story)
Mini Skirts, Mai Tais & Dead Guys
Cupcakes, Butterflies & Dead Guys
Stilettos, Bow Ties & Dead Guys
Diamonds, Pies & Dead Guys
Ghosts, Private Eyes & Dead Guys
Jamie Bond Mysteries
co authored with Gemma Halliday:
Unbreakable Bond
Secret Bond
Lethal Bond
Dangerous Bond
Bond Ambition (short story)
Fatal Bond
Hartley Grace Featherstone Mysteries
co authored with Gemma Halliday:
Wicked Games
Danger Cove Bakery Mysteries
Death by Scones
Other works:
Killing in the Caribbean
Rhinestone Ransom (short story in the Pushing Up Daisies collection)
* * * * *
SNEAK PEEK
of
DEATH BY SCONES
A DANGER COVE MYSTERY
by
JENNIFER FISCHETTO
&
ELIZABETH ASHBY
CHAPTER ONE
One, two, three dashes of pure lemon extract. I rarely measured when I baked anymore. I'd done it all my life and could eyeball a teaspoon or tablespoon perfectly. I breathed in a deep lungful and smiled. Raw dough smelled of hope and possibilities. The tanginess of the lemon trifecta—extract, juice, and zest—mixed with the olive oil, sugar, and eggs was heaven. Grams swore up and down that it was impossible to smell sugar and that it was the memory of the way it tasted that I thought I smelled, but hogwash. I had the nose of a bloodhound, and I knew the sweet raw scent of the tiniest grain.
I thrust my hips to the right and then the left. The skirt of my black-and-white, polka-dot halter swing dress made a whooshing sound. A glance to the other side of the bakery's kitchen showed me that our full-time baker, Joe, wasn't watching. Good. Food needed to be celebrated, but it didn't mean I wanted an audience. I'd prefer if Joe didn't see me getting jiggy with it this early in the morning.
Diamonds, Pies & Dead Guys Page 23