“We start with the ones we know had motive.” I dug through my work bag and found a pen and blank pad of paper. I always kept an extra one in my bag. “Okay, we had two competitors come to the meeting, Jesse and Julia Lye, and Rashid Patel.” I wrote down their names. “And then there’s Maybelle.”
Olivia gasped. “Maybelle? Maybelle Parker? I just can’t see her hurting someone. She’s so sweet.”
“It’s always the ones we least expect,” Del said.
Thelma backed her chair away from me.
“She doesn’t mean me, Thelma.”
“Well, you’re the one I’d least expect.”
“She must have hit the ground when her momma birthed her,” Del said.
I tapped the pen on the table. “Del.”
She shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
Thelma pulled out her top teeth and smiled at Del, but Del waved her hand in Thelma’s face and turned away.
“I can go through the list of competitors,” Olivia said, “but most of them are in it for the fun, not because they really want to win. It’s more of a big party for most of them.”
Del agreed. “Only a few take it seriously.”
“What you need to do is talk to Bobby. Get him to tell you who knocked him off,” Thelma said.
“We tried that, and I am not participating in another séance. I don’t like what happened to me for starters, and I don’t want to get anyone else in trouble, namely all of you.”
“Besides, Bobby didn’t show himself,” Olivia said. “And Miss Chantilly shouldn’t be doing things like that anymore. She doesn’t need any of this stress with her concussion.”
“I’m fine sweetie, really.” Fine other than hearing whispers that sounded an awful lot like my parents, seeing a dead woman and the person I thought might have actually killed her, oh, and being a murder suspect of course. Yup, I was completely fine.
Who was I kidding? I was a hot mess, and I needed to do something. “There’s a lacrosse game tonight, maybe the Lye’s truck will be there. I can check.”
Thelma offered to tag along. “I’m good at getting the truth from people. Look at how honest I’ve kept Delphina here. She would lie like a rug everyday if it wasn’t for me.”
Del snarled. “What in the devil are you even talking about?”
“I keep you honest and wholesome. We’re like that moon thingie the hippies all used to have hanging on their doors in the 60s and 70s.”
Del shook her head. “Moon thingie? Nothing this woman says ever makes any sense.”
Olivia raised her hand. “Excuse me, but they’re not moons, at least I don’t think that’s what she means. I think she means yin and yang. You two complement each other. I studied it in my philosophy class in college.”
“What’d you take that garbage for?”
“Del.” I used my stern mom voice on her. I wasn’t afraid of Del. I knew under that cantankerous jaded shell beat a heart of gold. She couldn’t fool me. “As a wise woman once said, zip it, woman.”
“Oh no.” Thelma gripped the table with her wrinkled hands. “Better hold on there, Olivia. The tornado’s a comin’.”
I smirked at Del and held my finger to my lips. “Shh.” I needed to get to work, as did Olivia, so we quickly developed a plan of action, and part of that included me talking to Jack Levitt about the suspects. I didn’t know if he’d be at the ball game later, but I highly doubted it with a murder investigation on his hands. In the meantime though, I had to get started proving my innocence and figure out what was happening to me.
Chapter Seven
I LOCKED MYSELF UP in my office, explaining to Olivia I had to catch up on some things and would prefer to not be disturbed. She promised to handle the three small tours, one being a kindergarten class from the local school, and not bother me unless it was necessary.
“Can you do me a favor though, when you have the time of course?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Can you do some research on Josiah Dilts? I’d like to know what happened to him.”
Olivia nodded. “Sure thing. I’ll get to it between tours.”
“Thank you.”
I stared at my internet search engine, digging back into the recesses of my brain for any details I could recall about the murder of the young parents in a neighboring county a few years back. I knew that medium that figured it out was nearby, I just couldn’t remember her name.
When I couldn’t recall too much of it, I typed what I could into my computer and up popped several articles.
Arrest made in young mother that called 911 prior to being shot
The case was solved by a special investigator named Aaron Banner with the assistance of a local psychic, but her name wasn’t mentioned in the article. Interesting, I thought, because I remembered reading about it when it happened. I searched further and finally entered psychic medium, Atlanta Georgia area, and up came Angela Panther in several articles about investigations over the few years since that murder. The last article I read said she didn’t speak publicly of her gift, but had been a key tool used by Banner and other officers in several investigations.
I wondered if Angela Panther bumped her head and then struggled with strange, ghostly visions? I didn’t have any other explanation. I knew I didn’t make up Agnes Hamilton, and I knew I hadn’t imagined my father’s voice or seeing him in my dream. I just didn’t know what to do about any of it.
I needed advice.
Angel Panther didn’t have a website, a Facebook page or an Instagram account, and there wasn’t anything on LinkedIn for her either. Of course, if I did what she did, and I didn’t want it to be bothered, I would have kept off social media completely, too.
I checked for Aaron Banner and found he’d recently taken a job with the Georgia Bureau of Investigations. After a lot of digging and a tense call with someone on their tip line, I finally left a message for him. I stumbled over my words, but said I was looking for the psychic he’d worked with, and that I thought I might have a similar thing—my exact word—and I saw something, but I didn’t know what to do about it. When I realized what that sounded like, I assured him it was from over one hundred years ago, and I just wanted to talk to someone that might be able to walk me through it. I apologized for sounding insane, and I didn’t mention I might be a suspect in a recent murder because I didn’t want to lose any credibility I might have had left.
I went on with my day, and when it came time for Austin’s lacrosse game, and I hadn’t heard back from Detective Banner or the psychic medium, I’d figured he’d just deleted my message.
I stopped at Delphina’s on my way to Austin’s game. She’d pushed four tables together, leaving one table for patrons, and had papers spread out all over them. She and Thelma argued over what papers went where.
Thelma placed a paper on top of another one. “That one goes next to this guy.”
“You put those two next to each other, and we’ll have a brawl before the competitions over.”
I examined the papers, all of which were contestant applications. “I thought it was mostly a fun event?”
Del smiled. “Oh, it ain’t the competition they fight about.”
“Then why the brawl?”
“One’s a Bama fan, and the other went to Auburn.”
“Oh, boy. Keep them as far apart as possible.” I swiped the paper and handed it to Thelma. “You know better than that, woman.”
She snatched it from my hand. “’Course I do. It’s just fun to watch them get all out a sorts about a silly game with a funny shaped ball.”
I raised my eyebrow. She was probably the only person in Castleberry Georgia, and perhaps the entire South, to call it a silly game. “If you say so.”
Delphina placed the application on top of another one. “It’s settled. I’m the head judge in this thing, and I want to taste all the barbecue. I don’t eat for two days to prepare for this. I don’t want these two killing each other before the competition starts.” She covered
her mouth with her hand. “Oh Lawd, that wasn’t what I meant.”
“Yes, it was, but it’s okay. We all know you didn’t mean it the wrong way.”
Thelma shook her head back and forth slowly. “I’m not so sure.”
“You still planning to come with me to the lacrosse game?”
She nodded. “Bought me one of those cushions for the bleachers, too. So my little bum doesn’t get sore.”
Del lifted her eyes to Thelma. “You got enough cushion of your own, you don’t need to be buying none.”
“My granddaughter tells me thick is in these days. No one likes a skinny Minnie.”
“Del, what’s your plan for the evening? Would you like to come?”
She shook her head. “I’m meeting the cooks at Bobby’s.”
“But I thought we weren’t allowed in there?”
“Detective Jack said they’ve pretty much done all they can there, and as long as we stay in the kitchen it’s okay. We got business to attend to at the restaurant, and I’m the one Bobby left in charge, so I’ve got to get to it.”
“Are you planning to keep the place open?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know yet, but I figured it would be a good time to talk to the cooks and see what they have to say about the day he died.”
I appreciated that, and I made sure to tell her.
She poured my iced coffee in a to go cup and added a splash of cream, just the way I liked it. “It’s the right thing to do. I know you didn’t kill Bobby, and I know his momma would want me to make sure the truth is out.”
I understood. “If I can help, please let me know.”
She swung her chin toward Thelma. “You’re helping by getting that old woman off my hands.”
“Give her a break. We’re all she’s got.”
Delphina winked. “She wouldn’t like me any other way.”
I suspected she was right.
As we were about to leave, Rashid Patel entered the café. “Hello ladies. How are you doing today?”
Del gave him a discontented look I assumed was meant to express her current emotional state.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Patel. I like your shirt. It’s very yellow,” Thelma said. “Yellow is my favorite color. It reminds me of my old cat, Buster.”
“That’s very kind of you. Was your cat yellow like my shirt?”
“Oh, no, no. He was a sprayer. Peed on everything in the house and turned it all yellow.”
Del laughed. I had to look away to stop myself from laughing, too.
“Did you come for coffee?” Del finally asked. “I can put on another pot right quick.”
“No, no. It is fine. I came to invite you to my restaurant. I want to offer my condolences for the death of your friend. I would like to give you a discount on my barbecue.”
Del pursed her lips. “Just a discount?”
“Del, hush,” I whispered. I smiled at Rashid Patel. “Excuse her, she’s having a hard day. And we appreciate the offer, but we can’t tonight.”
He nodded. “Yes, yes. That is fine. I am wondering if you know when the location will be up for lease? I am rearranging my plans for my new location, and would like to rent Hamilton House.”
Del cocked her head. “It ain’t up for lease.”
He grimaced. “Oh, I was told Mr. Pruitt was considering selling before his untimely death, but I cannot afford such a large payment just now. I would prefer to lease it and purchase it at a later date.”
“Who told you Bobby was considering selling?” she asked.
Rashid cleared his throat. “I, uh...I...I’m sorry. I must be mistaken.”
Delphina leaned toward him and bared her teeth. “You’re right. You’re mistaken. Bobby would never sell Hamilton House. Whoever told you that is lying.”
He nodded several times and stepped backward toward the door as he did. “I’m very sorry. Very sorry.”
“Go on, get out of here with those lies. Bobby’s soul needs to rest in peace.” There were a few people standing around watching the scene, and when Delphina noticed, her anger tipped further over the edge. “What’re you all staring at? Don’t you got nothing better to do than rubberneck a grieving soul?”
Two of the customers turned around and talked to each other. The others scattered out the door quickly.
“Don’t know who’s saying Bobby wanted to sell the place. He’d never do that. Don’t know what’s come over people these days. Can’t let the dead rest in peace like they ought to.” She mumbled on as Thelma rubbed her shoulder. “Now quit that. I ain’t no charity case. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me. Go on, get out of here and do what you’re supposed to do. Let me take care of things on my end.”
Thelma and I headed to the lacrosse fields knowing how upset Delphina was, but also understanding the last thing she needed was us to make things worse.
Thelma’s stomach growled as we turned toward the park. “I’m starving. Those itty bitty sandwiches Del serves aren’t made for a woman like me. I need real food. Can we stop at the McDonald’s? I would like a whopper and some of those fries.”
“That’s Burger King, and I don’t think there’s one in any of the surrounding counties.”
“No wonder I can’t beat this craving.”
I laughed. “We’ll just get us some barbecue from the truck. It’s the perfect excuse to talk to Jesse and Julia.”
“See? I knew I’d be a help.”
I met Austin on our side of the field and wished him luck. As I expected, Jack wasn’t there. I imagined it was tough being a coach and a cop, but it was nice that a man with such commitment worked to do both.
Thelma and I set our seats down on the first row of bleachers. Since she was a bit older and a little wobbly in her walk, I didn’t want her navigating the cement stairs any higher than that. I struggled with them at times, especially on sunny evenings, and I didn’t want something to happen to her because she’d offered to support me. That was the last thing I needed weighing heavily on my heart.
Thelma bounced on her toes. “Oh dear, I’ve got to use the ladies room.”
“Okay, it’s close by. Follow me.” My cell phone vibrated in my pocket on our way. The caller ID said unknown caller.
I received at least ten telemarketing calls a day, and don’t get me started on what happened during an election. I hit the button on the side of my iPhone twice to disconnect the call and held onto Thelma’s frail arm as we walked together toward the restrooms.
It buzzed again. I checked and it was the same number. “Go ahead and get it,” Thelma said. “I’m going to be a minute. It’s never quick anymore.”
I smiled. “I’ll be right out here.” I answered the call. “No, I didn’t sign up for your brace information, and I’m too young for a Medicare plan, so please take me off your list.”
“Is this Chantilly Adair?”
“Can you please take me—"
“I was given your number by Detective Banner with the GBI. My name is Angela Panther.”
I almost dropped the phone. “Oh my gosh, Miss Panther. I’m sorry. I’m Chantilly. I just get so many telemarketing calls, I figured—”
She stopped me before I could finish. “Don’t sweat it. I keep my phone on do not disturb for everyone but my contacts for that very reason. And every so often, I mute my daughter’s calls too, but that’s an entirely different conversation meant for another time.”
I laughed. I liked her already. “Thank you for calling. I’m sure my message to the detective sounded strange, but the whole thing is strange.”
“Totally get it. If you’re experiencing anything like I did, then you’re probably ready to jump out of your skin. Do you have some time to talk?”
I glanced at the door to the public restrooms. “A few minutes at least.”
“Okay, why don’t you give me the Reader’s Digest version of what’s going on? Maybe I can give you my thoughts.”
“Okay, well, I think a spirit’s trying to tell me how she was killed.�
��
“Has she shown herself to you?”
“Yes, ma’am, in a matter of speaking, at least.”
“What does in a matter of speaking mean?”
“I’ve seen things and then a few friends of mine and I recently held a séance and she showed me what happened to her, but I don’t know if I was just watching or what. It’s very confusing.”
“You held a séance? Have you done that before?”
“No, but it wasn’t my idea. A friend insisted, and when she insists, it’s hard to say no.”
“I have a similar friend. But if she suggests it again, stay strong. Séances open portals, and if you don’t know how to close them, you never know who’s going to stick around.”
“How will I know if I did that?”
“When did you have the séance?”
“Last night.”
“You’d know by now.”
I took that as a good sign. “I think I’m okay. At least so far.”
“That’s good, but trust me on that. So, are you seeing what happened like playing out in front of you, or was it like a play and you were a character?”
“It was playing out in front of me. I think.”
“Is this the first time this has happened to you?”
“Yes. No. I mean, lately things have been happening, but not to that degree, and none of it started until a few days ago.”
“Has something happened recently that would give you an emotional connection to the other side? Maybe you lost a loved one or something?”
I sighed. “My parents both died recently.”
She breathed in. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
“Sometimes when we lose people we love, we open up spiritually to the possibilities of things we didn’t think about before. It helps us feel a connection to them still, and for people like me, and now, it sounds like you, we realize we have a gift.”
“I also fell down the stairs at work and gave myself a concussion.”
She laughed. “That could do it, too.”
“There’s something else.”
“There always is.”
“A man in town was killed recently, and it looks like I might have been the last person to see him alive.”
Get Up and Ghost Page 10