by Amy Boyles
Ruth shot me a dirty look. I grinned in response.
“Worse.” Pepper searched through her purse. “Yes! I knew I had some hidden in here somewhere.” She hoisted a bag of brightly colored jelly beans from her bag. “Would anyone like some?”
“No thanks,” we all said in unison.
Pepper shrugged as she popped beans in her mouth. “The first night I went out with Axel, I came home to find my grandmother sitting up with a shotgun strapped over her legs.”
Alice’s jaw dropped. “Was she going to shoot him?”
“No, she was just waiting up for me.” Pepper winked at her. “That’s how I know she loves me, by threatening anyone who would harm me with violence.”
I laughed. “That’s hysterical.”
“Only when you’re not on the firing end of the shotgun,” Pepper pointed out.
“You’re right, there.” Ruth hung up the phone. “Now, Blissful, the sooner we get this Jinkins thing out of the way, the sooner we can follow up with these other folks. Tell us—what are you thinking?”
I threaded my hands together and tucked them behind my head. “I was thinking that we would touch base with Axel and Roan and open the Spiritus tonight in a closed-off environment. It’ll be easier to contain Jinkins that way, plus it’ll be easier for me to see him. Ghosts glow, and spotting them in the dark can sometimes work better.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Ruth licked her thumb and shuffled through her pages of notes. “Now. Where did we put the Spiritus?”
Ruth and I glanced at Alice. “Why’re y’all looking at me? I didn’t have anything to do with that tube of ghost.”
I dipped my head toward her. “I laid it on the counter. I think.” Had I?
“I watched Blissful do it,” Ruth said. She jabbed her finger in the direction of the counter. “The tube’s gone. So you must’ve moved it.”
Alice shook her head. “I didn’t move it.”
I exhaled a shot of air. Why did everything have to be difficult? “I’m sure it just fell. He’s a pretty ornery spirit.” I rose and searched behind the counter. “I don’t see it.”
I tried my best not to allow a hint of panic in my voice, but I fell short. Ruth and Alice nearly jumped from their seats. They circled around me, searching the ground like chickens looking for seed.
“Where is it?” Ruth said.
“It’s got to be here,” Alice chimed.
“Let me look,” Pepper offered.
After ten minutes of searching and falling just shy of ripping the store to shreds, there was only one conclusion to be made.
I raked my fingers through my hair. “The Spiritus is gone. Someone stole it.” I ground my teeth. “And I think I know who.”
NINETEEN
I headed over to Fannie Sullivan’s house alone. Well, not completely alone. A bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label tagged along with me.
I figured bribing Fannie was worth a shot.
I found her at home watching television. The sound blared, and until she shut the contraption off, I was reduced to repeating, “I said, hello,” at the top of my lungs.
“Come on in,” Fannie said.
“I brought you a gift.” I handed her the bag.
A flash of pleasure washed over Fannie's face when her fingers rumpled the paper sack. “You didn’t need to bring this.”
“I didn’t mind. Thought you could use it.”
“Would you like a glass?”
I raised my palm. “No thanks. I only drink the soft stuff.”
Fannie cackled. “The stuff for ladies, huh? You don’t like a good stiff drink?”
“No thanks, I’m okay without one.”
Fannie sat and patted one of her stuffed cats. How could I have forgotten about them? The army of taxidermied animals had slipped my mind until I entered the home.
“What can I do for you, Blissful?” Fannie gestured for me to sit. I claimed a spot on the couch. A stuffed cat lay beside me.
It was stuffed until my thigh squished its tail. Then the creature whipped up and hissed at me.
“Sorry, cat,” I said.
Fannie waved in dismissal. “Miss Sourpuss is always testy.”
I glanced at the dead creatures. “Maybe because she knows what’s in store for her.”
Fannie laughed. “You’re a funny one, Blissful. But what can I do for you?”
“We have a little problem where I work.” My gaze swept the room. If Fannie had stashed the Spiritus in view, I wanted to find it. Nothing but dusty surfaces and fur filled the living room.
Fannie opened the whiskey and poured two fingers. “What sort of problem is that?”
“Something’s gone missing.”
“Never a good problem to have.”
“No, it isn’t.” I waited until Fannie had nestled herself into her recliner with the drink before continuing. “I had a canister—a very long tube with drawings on it. I think you might’ve seen it the day you walked by.”
Fannie inhaled the brown liquid. She whirled it in the glass and sniffed again. Her whole face brightened. “You think I saw what again?”
“A tube with markings on it.”
“I can’t say I did.”
I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “You know, the funny thing about that canister is that it’s dangerous. Very dangerous. It doesn’t look like it is, but believe me. You don’t want to mess with it.”
Fannie stared at me over her glass as she sipped the whiskey. She lowered it to the TV stand with a thud. “And what makes you think I have anything to do with this missing object?”
“I saw you staring at it. I don’t know what sort of power it has, but trust me, you don’t want that thing to gain any hold on you. It’s not worth it. What’s inside is evil.”
Fannie laughed. “Evil, Blissful? Things can’t be evil. What are you talking about?”
I rose. Seeing as how this conversation wasn’t going anywhere, there was no point in trying to convince this woman of something she wouldn’t believe.
“I know it’s hard to swallow, but the object has something harmful inside. Do me a favor. If you come across anything that looks like it, just don’t open it, okay?”
Fannie stared at me for a moment. “Why don’t you tell me why it’s so dangerous?”
I shifted uncomfortably. What the heck? If she knew, maybe Fannie would be less likely to open the thing.
“There’s an evil spirit trapped inside.”
She threw back her head and laughed.
Or maybe she’d just think I was crazy, like most people do.
“I know it sounds insane. But there is. A spirit bent on wreaking havoc is in that canister. Anyone releases it and the ghost will be either one, searching for me in an attempt to kill me or two, returning to the house right next door to you to harm the family that currently lives there—including the little girl.”
Fannie's eyes narrowed until beads shone out from under her brow. “That’s a lot of assumptions there.”
“They’re not assumptions. They’re facts.”
Our gazes locked in a showdown. I waited for Fannie to glance away, but this woman was all brass tacks. I folded first.
“Just remember, the canister holds something evil. If you see it. Don’t open it. Find me instead.”
I picked my way across the sea of dead cats to the door. “Enjoy the whiskey.”
She raised a glass. “I already am.”
“How’d it go at Fannie's?”
I threw my purse on the chair at Southern Ghost Wranglers. “Not good. Either she doesn’t have it or she has it and is hiding it."
“Hiding it, I’d say,” Ruth said. “That Fannie Sullivan is a strange one. Never goes to church unless it’s Easter or Christmas and I think she skips Christmas most of the time.”
“Never trust someone who only shows up to service to receive the body of Christ.” Alice tied a ribbon through the holes in a bootie. “That’s what my mother used to tell me.”
/> I hitched a brow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning they’re only once-a-year Christians.”
I frowned. “Meaning?”
Alice sighed in frustration. “It means they don’t take religion seriously and keep Jesus in their heart every day.”
“No comment.”
Ruth and Alice exchanged a look.
I lifted my hands in exasperation. “What? I haven’t been to church once since I’ve arrived. If I go now, I’ll be a once-a-year Christian. I don’t need that kind of judgment. I’ve got enough to deal with since I’ll be breaking into Fannie's house.”
“Oh no.” Ruth wagged a finger. “Remember what happened the last time you broke into a house? We almost got killed.”
Ruth spoke the truth. Several weeks ago I’d been stalking Susan Whitby’s killer. Ruth and I had broken into a house searching for clues and had found ourselves on the wrong side of a gun barrel. But all turned out okay in the end. We were still alive, weren’t we?
I stroked my chin. “Good point. But I still have the feeling that Fannie is hiding something.”
“And how are you going to find that out?” Alice said. “Have a ghost search her home looking for the tube?”
I shot from the chair and wrapped Alice in a hug. “Alice, you’re a genius!”
She glared at Ruth. “Finally someone realizes it.”
Ruth snorted. “You’re a genius at baking. I’ve always said that.”
Alice tapped her temple. “But in the mind, Ruth. I’m finally a genius in the mind.”
Ruth swatted at Alice. “Blissful, what’s your plan?”
“I’ll see if Susan will enter the house. Take a look around.” I clapped my hands. “It’s perfect. Then if she finds the canister, she can zip it right to me.”
Ruth smiled. “That is a perfect plan. I like it.”
“Me too,” Alice chimed. “Of course that’s a given seeing how I was the one who came up with it.”
It finally dawned on me that Pepper wasn’t around. “Where’s Pepper?”
Ruth thumbed through her notebook of messages. “Oh, Axel picked her up. I think they were going out for some lunch. They’ll meet up with you later, they said. I think they were hoping you’d have the ghost tube by then.”
I grimaced. “I hope so. If this spirit is as angry as I think he’ll be when he gets released, I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
I grabbed my purse from the chair and headed toward the door. “But first things first. Find Susan.”
Which turned out to be impossible. Susan was nowhere to be found in my house. She wasn’t filing her nails or smacking gum or perusing my fridge for a treat. No, Susan Whitby had disappeared.
The day faded fast. I knew I needed to get that tube away from Fannie in case she had anything crazy planned. I don’t know what sort of crazy thing she might have up her sleeve, but you never knew with old ladies. Or at least ones that drank Johnny Walker and lived in a houseful of stuffed cats.
There was only one other choice—the cemetery.
I hadn’t traipsed through the Oaks in weeks. But I parked my truck to the side right at sunset and waited for the light to dim until only a smear of pink remained of the day.
I headed over to a patch of crumbling tombstones. None of the spirits were particularly quick to appear, so I sat on a marker and folded my arms from the cold.
After a couple of minutes, just when the first stars winked in the sky, someone spoke.
“And what brings you here tonight, my dear?”
My gaze flickered to a spirit floating in my direction. He was tall, midfifties or so with a long curling mustache. He wore the uniform of a Confederate soldier beautifully, as if it had been tailored just for him.
Maybe it had. I would need to ask.
“Hello, Captain Blount.”
He removed his hat with a flourish and bowed low. “It is a pleasure to see you, Miss Blissful. Might I have your hand?”
I extended it, and Captain Blount’s ghostly fingers pricked my skin as he kissed my flesh with his transparent mouth.
“Ah, there is nothing like the warmth of the living to remind a man he’s dead.”
“Not sure that’s a compliment.” I slid my hand into my back pocket. “But I’ll take it.”
“Rest assured”—he winked—“it is.”
“Who’s that over there?” A tiny woman I referred to as Granny Mildred floated to us. “Oh, it’s that woman who’s not a Yankee but might as well be.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
“What I mean”—Granny interrupted herself to spit—“is that you shore do act like a Yankee but you use the word ‘y’all.’”
I leaned on one hip and studied her. “What do you mean, I act like a Yankee?”
She gestured around the cemetery. “You always come in here wanting things from us but won’t take up picketing on our behalf.”
I rubbed my face and sighed. I wanted to poke my eyes out. Every time I came here, it was the same thing. I mean, these spirits were a freaking broken record. It exhausted me to run through the same conversation repeatedly.
But it looked like I’d be doing it one more time.
“How often do I have to explain this to y’all? I can’t fight for your rights because y’all don’t have any. You need to be in the light with your relatives instead of haunting a graveyard.”
Mildred thumbed her chest. “We had rights when we were alive. We want rights now that we’re dead.”
I flared my arms. “You live in a graveyard! What do you want? To haunt someone and scare them to death?”
“I thought we were scary enough here.” Kency the Farmer floated up. He scratched his overalls. “No one’s bothered us since this young lady came to live here. We don’t need to picket, Mildred.”
“I say we do,” she argued. “We need to make sure no one’s going to force us into the light.”
Good grief. Kill me now. “Let me tell y’all a secret.”
“Huh? What’d she say?” Mildred said.
“She’s going to reveal a secret,” Captain Blount answered.
“What sort of secret?” Mildred yelled.
Captain Blount’s cheeks reddened. “How would I know? She hasn’t explained what it is yet.”
Kency nodded to me. “You better talk before Mildred interrupts you again.”
“The secret is, as long as y’all don’t make a nuisance of yourselves, people like me will leave you alone.”
Mildred elbowed Kency. “What’s ‘newsonse’?”
“It’s when you bother someone,” Captain Blount exploded. “A premium example would be your constitution at the moment.”
Mildred gasped. “Why, I never!”
“Of course you have, woman. We’ve haunted these same parts for decades. Now”—Blount pointed his attention on me—“I believe our guest has visited for a reason.”
I swallowed a knot in my throat. “I need a favor.”
Mildred threw up her hands. “Who’s surprised? I’m not. I’m not surprised at all. She needs us. Of course she does. All humans need us.”
“Wrong.” I folded my arms. “There’s an evil spirit trapped in a tube. I need it back but can’t get inside the house where it is. I’m asking if one of y’all will help me by searching the house?”
“An evil spirit, you say?” Kency said. “Trapped in a what?”
“A tube. It’s shaped like this.” I demonstrated. Mildred’s eyes bulged. I don’t know what she thought I was demonstrating, and to be honest, I didn’t want to ask.
“The spirit inside is evil. Even evil to other ghosts. He’s currently keeping at least two from crossing to the other side.”
“And whom might this spirit have been when he was alive?” Blount asked.
“Jinkins Hudson.”
No one said anything. Mildred slinked back, and Kency found a particularly interesting spot on his overalls to inspect.
“What is it
?” I said. “What’s wrong?”
“We won’t go anywhere near that spirit,” Mildred said. “He’s very evil. Does things to ghosts. Mean. Nope. I’ll be staying right here where I belong.” She shot me a hard look. “And don’t you try to follow me, girlie.”
Confused, I said, “To where?”
In answer, Mildred launched into the sky, shrank to a thin line and then dived into her headstone.
“Oh, back to China or somewhere else on the other side of the earth? Don’t worry,” I shouted. “I won’t be following you.”
“Kency?” I smiled brightly, trying to woo the farmer to my side.
“I have some chickens to feed.”
“Sir, that is a lie,” Blount said.
“I hear them clucking right now.” Kency, too, disappeared into the night.
I sighed. “Are you going to desert me, too?”
Captain Blount placed a palm over his heart. “Madam, I believe in honor and duty and God, not necessarily in that order. You are a damsel in distress, and I will do my best to serve you.”
“Right.” I coughed. “A damsel.”
Blount straightened his coat. “Now. Where is your carriage?”
I waved toward the Land Cruiser. “Right over there.”
“I suggest we mosey on. It sounds like we have work to do.”
I linked my arm through Blount’s, er, body. “Let’s get cracking. It’s ghost finding time.”
TWENTY
Captain Blount regaled me with tales from the Confederacy while I drove us to Fannie’s house.
“And when that rattlesnake slithered by my boot, I pulled my bowie knife and stuck the blade right between its eyes. The serpent never saw it coming, and we soldiers ate well that night. Well, three of us did anyway.”
“Fascinating,” I murmured.
“I have a book of stories like that one. There was another time—”
I held my hand up to interrupt him. “We’ve arrived.”
“These women nowadays don’t have time for stories like they used to. Back when I was alive, I could spin a tale that would have a roomful of young ladies dangling on every word.” He sighed. “How I miss those days.”