Pumpkins and Potions

by Tegan Maher

  "But why can I see you now? Nick, you've been dead for months."

  "Months?" Nick repeated.

  "It feels like only yesterday."

  "I can promise you, it wasn't."

  "Thanks for burying me in that Volcom shirt. I loved that shirt," Nick replied.

  "You were at your funeral?" I was shocked.

  "Good turnout, don't you think?" Nick smiled.

  I couldn't utter a sound. My grief was still raw.

  "See, this is why you need some sleep. If you were awake, you'd think that was funny," Nick brushed my hair back. It felt like a cool breeze on my face.

  I started to object.

  "I promise I'll be here when you wake up," Nick replied.

  I took a shaky breath. I was definitely feeling the post-adrenaline fatigue set in for the second time that day--or maybe it was the third. I'd been shocked too much in one day to keep count. I swayed on my feet and reluctantly admitted that maybe, just maybe, Nick was right.

  The next morning, I woke thinking the past twenty-four hours had been a dream. That was until I spotted Nick's blue orb hovering in the corner of the room. A moment later, he materialized.

  "Sleep okay?" he asked.

  "Yeah, surprisingly." It was honestly the best night's sleep I'd had since Nick's accident. "Mr. Franks come back?"

  "No. But I found him pacing his backyard looking for his treasure."

  "He buried it?"

  "He doesn't remember."

  "We have to help him."

  "It would help if we knew what he was looking for," Nick replied.

  "I wonder if his daughter knows?" I questioned.

  "How are you going to ask her about it?"

  "Good point." Blue Clair Bay was a small town. I didn't need the locals finding out about my new supernatural gift. "Maybe we can talk to Mr. Franks again?"

  "I vote that you give it a try. He won't speak to me. I think he thinks I'm after his treasure."

  I sighed. "You know, Melinda said her dad had something called PPA and it made it hard for him to communicate. I wonder if he still can't?"

  "That makes sense. After all, it's heaven that makes you whole."

  "What?"

  "True story. Just ask any of the ghosts kicking it in town."

  "Are there a lot of you?"

  "Enough. You know Duffy? He's still drunk as a skunk sitting on his favorite barstool at Carol's."

  "He is not!"

  "I swear to you he is. We can go and chat with him if you want." Nick held my gaze.

  "Wow, you're serious." Nick nodded his head, which reminded me. "But you broke your neck."

  "Yeah, want me to show you?" Nick turned his head at the most unnatural of degrees.

  "No, stop! I believe you." I took a deep breath. There are some things you never want to see. Your husband reenacting the head-spinning scene from The Exorcist being one of them. I brought our conversation back on topic, "So heaven makes you whole again, which means Mr. Franks is stuck here unable to communicate and looking for something important to him. And," I continued on a roll, "It was most likely him who tossed his house and gave Melinda the creeps the other night."

  "The creeps?"

  "She felt like someone was watching her in the middle of the night, and given the stunt Mr. Franks pulled here last night, I'm betting it all ties back to him. But what is he looking for?"

  "That's the million-dollar question."

  "Okay. Let me get ready for the day and then we'll give it a shot. You know how to find him?"

  "Not exactly, but I'll float around until I do." With that, Nick blinked back into orb and drifted out of my bedroom. I shook my head, unable to believe this was my reality now while still feeling incredibly grateful. I would take Nick anyway I could get him--even if that meant an extra ghost or two hanging around.

  5

  While getting ready, I had a brilliant idea to go over to Mr. Franks' and offer Melinda a hand packing things up. If Mr. Franks would meet us there maybe the three of us --me, Nick, and Mr. Franks -- could search together and find his missing treasure.

  I got to work downstairs in the kitchen, whipping up a batch of my famous cinnamon rolls. I wouldn't dare go anywhere without bringing a baked good with me. Besides, who could say no to help when you were bringing something sweet along with it? Nick popped back in when I was just putting the cream cheese frosting on top of the still-warm rolls.

  "Well?" I looked over my husband's shoulder for any sign of Mr. Franks.

  "He's back at his house, and he's freaking Melinda out."

  "Oh no, what's he doing?"

  “Pretty much the same thing he did here last night. Opening drawers, moving things. I think she's ready to bolt and never look back."

  "I don't blame her. Hang on, let me box these and I'll meet you at his house in just a minute."

  Thank goodness Mr. Frank's house wasn't too far away. I was pulling in his driveway when Melinda was walking right out the front door.

  "Melinda, is everything okay?" The woman was shaking, as she muttered something incoherently. It sounded an awful lot like the words poltergeist and calling Father Thompson, the local priest.

  "It's not a poltergeist. It's your dad," I blurted out.

  Melinda opened and shut her mouth, not sure what to say.

  "I know it sounds crazy but trust me. It's him."

  Melinda covered her eyes as if to compose herself, "I thought it might be, but then things started flying about the room and I couldn't see my dad doing anything like that."

  "He's looking for something." My eyes were wide as the words kept tumbling out of my mouth.

  "How do you know?"

  "Because...I can see him." Before Melinda could ask any other questions, I continued, "It's only since Nick has passed away and honestly just in the last few days. But for whatever reason, I can now see ghosts and your dad is upset. He keeps saying he's looking for his treasure. Do you have any idea what he's talking about?"

  Melinda stood there, dumbfounded. "His treasure?"

  Nick spoke up and I turned my attention to him. "He said something about a gemstone to me this morning."

  I relayed the information to Melinda.

  "A gemstone? Like a diamond? I have my mom's wedding ring. Does he want it back? I mean, he's the one that gave it to me, but maybe he's forgotten?" Melinda said.

  I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know, but we can go inside and ask him." Melinda looked toward the house reluctantly as I squared my shoulders and walked toward the front door with more confidence than I felt.

  Mr. Franks was one agitated ghost when I walked in. He seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that he was tossing his own home and terrifying his daughter in the process. The floor was littered with broken picture frames, books, papers, clothes—you name it.

  "It's pretty impressive," Nick said from behind me.

  "What is?" I asked him.

  "That he has enough energy to do all this destruction. Usually, you have to be dead for a lot longer before you can start tossing things."

  "Mr. Franks? Yoo-hoo. Over here." I tried to get the gentleman's attention.

  "She needs it--the treasure. Melinda. Where is it!?" Mr. Franks replied to himself.

  "Speaking of Melinda," I said rather loudly, "You're giving her quite a scare."

  Mr. Franks realize for the first time he had an audience. "Melinda?" The ghost took in his daughter's appearance.

  "He's looking at you," I said to Melinda.

  Melinda nodded in understanding with a tear in her eye. "Hi, Dad."

  Mr. Franks walked forward and the temperature in the room plummeted. Two ghosts in close proximity to us made the atmosphere downright frigid. Melinda crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders while I shivered and wished I would've brought a sweatshirt.

  "You said your treasure. Is there something Melinda can help you find?" I asked.

  "Your treasure," Mr. Frank's repeated, looking at his daughter before turning back into an orb.
I watched the orange light dance about the room until it disappeared under the couch.

  "It's hard to keep full form for long," Nick explained. "Orbs are easier. They take less energy.” I relayed to Melinda where her dad had gone, keeping the orb information to myself.

  "Did he have a safe or maybe a safe deposit box at the bank?" I was trying to think where someone might keep their valuables.

  "No, I don't think so," Melinda replied

  "What about a jewelry box?" Nick asked and I repeated.

  "I have my mother's jewelry box, but it's mostly costume jewelry minus a set of pearls and a matching necklace."

  Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Melinda looked at me as if questioning if she should answer it.

  "Go for it. I'll keep an eye on things," although I wasn't sure how I could rein in Mr. Franks if he started freaking out.

  "Hello," Melinda said after opening the door slightly. I could tell she was trying to keep the chaos hidden from view.

  "I was hoping I would catch someone," Mr. Pearson, the postman said. Being a small town, everyone knew everyone's business, especially the postman. "I have a package your dad mailed out, except the address isn't right. I tried to figure out who it belonged to, but there's no one in town with this name and the zip code is missing. I hate to return it, but I'm not sure where it goes."

  Melinda took the package, which was really just a padded envelope from the postman and examined it.

  "Hi Mr. Pearson." I walked forward. Melinda opened the door a bit more.

  "Well hello, Claire. I heard a rumor your bakery was opening back up. Is that true?"

  "It is. Hopefully in the next week or so," I said.

  "Well that's great news. I sure miss those cinnamon rolls," the postman replied.

  I looked over Melinda's shoulder at the package. It was addressed to Ms. Milly. Mr. Franks orb buzzed over at the same time. The ball of light pulsated with excitement and my nerves skyrocketed for fear of what the ghost might do. I didn't want him yanking the package from Melinda and giving Mr. Pearson a heart attack.

  "It's for me. Miss Milly was what my father used to call me when I was little." Melinda explained as she opened the thick envelope and dumped the contents into her hand. It was a Petoskey stone in the shape of a heart. A note fluttered out and onto the ground. It read: "You'll always be my treasure, love Dad."

  "Oh," was all Melinda could say before her emotions took over her. She fanned her face but couldn't keep the tears from falling. I looked about the tossed room for a box of tissues. Locating them, I yanked a couple out of the box and handed them over. While Melinda dried her eyes, I looked over to Mr. Franks, who had materialized. A broad smile filled his face.

  "My treasure. It's what I called it. I found it on the beach and gave it to my dad for his birthday," Melinda said.

  "Your dad must've forgotten he mailed it to you." I looked over to Mr. Franks for conformation. He nodded his head.

  "Well, I'm glad we figured that mystery out," Mr. Pearson said. The postman had no idea.

  Mr. Pearson soon left and the moment he was gone a sense of peace filled the air. Mr. Franks agitation was gone, replaced with happiness. I could feel it radiating off him. I believe we all could, judging by the smiles on our faces.

  "What's that?" I pointed to the ceiling. A crack had formed. The softest of light emitting from the drywall.

  Melinda looked up, "What's what?"

  "That light. Do you see it?" The words were no sooner out of my mouth when the ceiling broke completely open. A blinding light shone down. I blinked and shielded my eyes. Nick jumped behind me and hid like a little kid.

  Mr. Franks instinctively stepped into the light. Beyond that, into the unknown, a woman's voice said, "Come on, Eugene. It's time to come home." Surrounded by the heavenly light, Mr. Franks was visible to us all.

  "Goodbye, Dad," Melinda said, sniffling back tears.

  Mr. Franks blew his daughter a kiss and turned into an orb once more. The orange light floated up toward heaven.

  In a second, he was gone, and the ceiling looked as normal as ever.

  “Well that was something,” Melinda said.

  I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding and then looked to Nick. Catching his eye, Nick cocked his eyebrow, and said, "Now what?"

  Want more of Claire & Nick?

  Continue the adventure with Book 1 in the Spirited Sweets series: Bittersweet Betrayal: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07JN8JMCJ/

  About Stephanie Damore

  I'm a mystery author with a soft spot for romance and humor, too. I love being on the beach, I have a strong affinity for the color pink (especially in diamonds and champagne), and, not to brag, but chocolate and I are in a pretty serious relationship.

  Let’s chat, shall we?

  Drop me a line at: steph.damore@gmail.com

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  The Case of the Purloined Pumpkin

  Leighann Dobbs

  Cat P.I. Earl Clawson is never one to shy away from a job, but when a mysterious woman shows up with a suspicious tail about a stolen pumpkin, it gives Earl paws. Too bad his human counterpart, Ray, has already taken the case. As usual, Earl will have to use his superior feline intellect to steer Ray in the right direction. What does an empty candy bag, a disappearing clown and a bald-headed princess that packs a mean punch have to do with a stolen Jack-o-lantern. Even Earl might be surprised at the answer.

  1

  It was early morning, and I was sunning myself in the window at the office of R&E Investigation when she came in. You might think sunning yourself in a window is an odd activity for a PI, and it is, unless you’re a cat. That’s me—Earl Clawson, cat detective. I’m the brains of the business, and my human, Ray Leonard, is the brawn. He thinks he’s also the brains, but he doesn’t realize most thoughts about our investigations actually come from me. More on that later.

  She said her name was Sonja, and I knew she was trouble as soon as she poked her blond, curly head in the door. She was just the kind of femme fatale that clouds Ray’s judgement. He was a mere human though. So who could blame him? I slit one eye open and listened in on the conversation.

  “I want you to find my prized jack-o’-lantern.” She sat in the guest chair, legs crossed at the knee, scarlet-red nails playing nervously with the handle of her designer purse. Ray leaned forward, resting muscular forearms on the top of the desk.

  “You lost a prized pumpkin?”

  “Jack-o’-lantern. It was a finalist for the pumpkin-carving prize tonight. That prize is worth two grand.”

  Ray frowned. “My fee is a grand plus expenses. Doesn’t seem like a good investment for you.”

  Sonja shifted in her seat. “Right. Well, it’s more than just the money. There’s my pride at winning, and my ex might be involved in the theft, so I certainly don’t want him to win the prize.”

  Ray’s gaze flicked in my direction as if sensing my doubts about Sonja’s story. Actually, he was sensing them because I was pushing those thoughts in his direction. She sounded fishy as a can of salmon-and-gravy wet food. I wasn’t sure if it was wise to take her case. Besides, we were supposed to be looking into finding a lead on the gemstone heist that had happened last week. There was a reward for that, and times were tough. Then again, a bird in the hand was worth two (actually, by my experience, it was more like four or five) in the bush, and Sonja looked ready to pay.

  Ray frowned at me, his gaze softening as it drifted back to Sonja. “What’s this jack-o’-lantern look like?”

  “It’s about this big.” Sonja mimed the size of a basketball. “And it was carved with an intricate carving of a cat on the front.”

  A carving of a cat? Maybe she was
n’t so bad after all. I sat up and preened my sleek black fur, taking special care with my long tail.

  “So, let me get this straight. You want to pay me one thousand dollars to find a pumpkin that may or may not win a two-thousand-dollar prize?”

  “Jack-o’-lantern,” she corrected, then opened her purse, pulled out a wad of bills, and slid them toward Ray. “Here’s half in advance.”

  Ray pocketed the money without counting it. “Okay, I’ll find your pumpkin. Got any idea where to start looking?”

  “You could start at the train station. My ex Tommy has a locker. Number nine-nine-nine.”

  “This Tommy got a last name?” Ray asked. Good boy. I’d trained him to get last names a while back. First names didn’t really help when investigating.

  “Piccolo.”

  “Okay, guess that gives me some places to start.”

  Sonja stood. She pulled a card out of her purse and handed it to him. “Here’s my number. Call me when you find my jack-o-lantern.”

  “Will do.”

  She left, her shadow behind the beveled-glass top of the thick oak door moving away quickly as if she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

  Ray glanced over at me and narrowed his eyes. “That sound fishy to you?”

  Darn tootin’ it did.

  As usual, Ray followed me out of the office. The train station was a short walk away, and we headed in that direction. It was Halloween, and the streets were filled with witches, ghosts, and goblins.

  Ray hesitated. “Bad day of the year for you. Maybe you should stay in the office.”

  No such luck. He’d already deviated from our chore of researching leads on the jewel heist, and I didn’t want him getting off track. If he was delving into this case, I wanted him at least to find the pumpkin so we could get the other half of the payment. Besides, I needed to be there in case he got into trouble.

  Little did Ray know, I’d made it through dozens of Halloweens; one more wouldn’t kill me. Hopefully. I kept walking, and he followed.