Anger flared up in her. She marched down the stairs and back into the shop. She stormed over to the rack of clothes and held up a shaking finger. She hissed, “Come out, whoever you are. You’ve got some explaining to do!”
The ghost of a man stepped out of a jacket. He sneered as he looked Grace up and down. The anger in his eyes was the same as the anger that she’d seen in Frankie’s eyes earlier.
He folded his arms, his smile was mocking. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m the one who’s in charge. You’re going to do exactly as I say.”
Chapter 5
The man stepped forward, he looked around the shop in an appraising manner.
Grace took the chance to study him. He looked to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties. It was obvious from his well fitted suit that he’d had money. His hair was well cut and styled, his clean shaven faced showed handsome features. Although the condescending look that he now wore lessened any attractiveness.
He walked past Grace as if she didn’t exist. He strolled around the shop, examining everything as he went. Grace heard him mumbling to himself.
At one point he took his mobile phone out and looked at it. Surely he couldn’t be receiving messages?
He came back to Grace. He waved his arm in the general direction of the shop and said, “What a load of old rubbish.”
“It’s supposed to be old, there are some antiques here,” Grace said. She was biding her time, she wasn’t sure what this ghost was up to yet.
He gave a laugh of derision. “I know that, it’s still a load of rubbish. Needs clearing out, the lot of it. Who’s going to buy tat like this? You can get better stuff at the market. I’m surprised you still have a business. Whoever’s running this business is obviously an idiot.”
Still keeping calm Grace replied, “This is a family business, run by me and my brother. We’re doing well, we’re making a profit.”
The man smirked as Grace spoke. She was finding it harder to remain calm.
He shook his head as if speaking to a child. “This isn’t a proper business. You need something that will make money fast, something that people want, something that they will pay a lot of money for.”
Grace folded her arms and looked away from him.
“You know I’m right,” he went on. “That’s why I’m here. That’s why I made that young man buy my old clothes.”
Grace’s head turned back so quick she thought she heard it crack. “You made Frankie buy your clothes? How? What did you do?”
Grace had been influenced by ghosts before but she hadn’t known it happen to Frankie. Could he see ghosts too? Was he too afraid or embarrassed to tell her?
The man was still smirking. Grace was beginning to really dislike him. He said, “I influenced him. It’s easy to influence the weak minded. I put the idea in his head that if he’s going to be a successful business man then he needs to dress like one. My clothes are ideal for him, and he got them at a bargain price. These are quality clothes.”
Quality? That’s the word that Frankie kept using.
Grace’s eyes narrowed. “Are you influencing him now?”
The man gave a shrug. “I might be. He needs my help, the sooner we get this shambles of a business sorted out, the better.”
Grace held her hands up. “No. It doesn’t work like that. You’re not here to help us. We don’t need any help, we’re doing just fine on our own. As far as I know I’m the one that can see ghosts, not Frankie, and I’m the one who can help them.”
The man snorted. “Help? I don’t need help from you. You’re as stupid looking as your brother. It’s obvious you need my help. We’ll start with the accounts. I presume you have account books, go and get them.”
“No.”
The man stiffened. “No one tells me ‘no’. Go and do it. Now.”
“No,” Grace repeated. She folded her arms again. She wasn’t going to hep this ghost. If he had been murdered he wasn’t showing any signs of it. She wasn’t sure why he was here, and she didn’t want to find out.
The man’s hand flew to his forehead, just as Frankie’s had done earlier. And Pearl’s. He winced and bent over.
Grace’s arms dropped to her side, she moved closer to him. “What is it? Are you in pain?”
He looked up, his mouth opened and closed, no words came out.
“He is in pain. He’s feeling the same things that I felt earlier.” Pearl appeared in front of Grace.
“What’s going on, Pearl? Why is he here? Why is he in pain? And why is he affecting you and Frankie?”
Pearl shook her head. “I don’t know all the answers but I do know that this man was murdered and that me and Frankie are experiencing his symptoms.”
The man gasped for breath.
“What can we do? I have to do something! Pearl!”
“Calm down. Look, he’s getting his breath back. Let him talk.”
“How can he get his breath back? He’s a ghost.”
The man straightened up, his breathing sounded shallow.
Pearl said, “He’s reliving his last few days, I’ve seen this before. You have to help him, Grace.”
“But how? And why? He’s not a nice man,” Grace said. She felt a pang of guilt admitting it but it was true, he was obnoxious.
In a soft voice Pearl said, “For some reason your Frankie is experiencing the same symptoms, if this man’s murderer isn’t brought to justice this ghost will continue to relive his death over and over again.”
Grace felt a trickle of fear slide down her back. She looked at the man and then at Pearl. “Does that mean that Frankie will keep experiencing these symptoms? Will he be in pain?”
Pearl nodded. “Grace, Frankie could die.”
Chapter 6
When Grace looked back at the man he seemed to have recovered. He gave Grace a confused look and said, “Where am I? What am I doing here?”
Grace took a deep breath to steady her nerves. In a steely voice she said, “You forced my brother to buy your clothes, you forced your way into our shop and now you’re trying to tell us how to run our business! And whatever killed you is now trying to kill my brother!”
The man’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m a bit confused. Where are we? Who are you?”
Pearl said to Grace, “You need to calm down. I know you’re annoyed, and worried about Frankie but this ghost isn’t the cause, we need to find out who murdered him. We need to find out more about him.”
Grace said, “Can’t we just throw him and his clothes out of the shop?”
“We could, but that means whoever murdered him is going to get away with it.”
“I don’t care,” Grace said. She knew she was being unreasonable but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
“Stop that right now!” Pearl exploded. “You’re acting like a child. You’ve got this gift of seeing ghosts and helping them, and you will use it! You don’t get to pick and choose which ones to help, they come to you. Get yourself together and start asking him some questions.”
Grace took a step back. Pearl was smaller than her but her anger made her bigger. Grace said, “But what about Frankie?”
Pearl said, “I’ll deal with Frankie, he’ll be fine. And don’t ask me how I’ll deal with him! That’s for me to know, not you.”
Pearl and Grace stared at each other for a moment. Then Pearl let out a bark of laughter. “I like you more with this spark of defiance in you! That’s just what you need in this business.”
“The shop business?” Grace asked, a smile growing on her face.
“The murder business! Now, get on with it.”
Grace and Pearl turned back to the man. He was rubbing his head again. Grace’s thoughts flew to Frankie, she hoped he was fast asleep and not feeling any of this man’s pain.
She addressed the man. “Let’s start from the beginning. I’m Grace Abrahams, this is Pearl. I presume you can see her?”
The man nodded. “I can hear her too, she’s loud for an old woman.”
<
br /> “What’s your name? Can you remember it?” Grace asked.
He rubbed his head again. “It’s Charlie. I think. Sorry, my head hurts. I didn’t think I’d feel any pain once I was dead. Why am I here?”
Grace was glad to see that his obnoxiousness had gone. Maybe that had just been a show, a business persona that he’d had to adopt when he was alive. She said, “I can see ghosts and I can help them. I recently helped a ghost who had been murdered. She came to me because the man who murdered her had got away with it. I suppose her spirit wouldn’t let her rest until he was brought to justice. I’m assuming the same is true of you.”
The man shook his head, wincing as he did so. “Why would anyone kill me?”
Pearl pointed a finger at him. “You acted like a complete prat when you first appeared to Grace. I heard what you were saying, ordering her about like she was a piece of dirt. If you were like that when you were alive then there was probably a queue of people waiting to do you in!”
“Pearl,” Grace said. “I can handle this. He seems different now.”
Pearl tutted. “Don’t forget first impressions, they tell you about the character of a person.”
Charlie said, “I’m sorry about my behaviour. I’m not sure what’s going on. I think you might be right about a murder though. My head really hurts and so does my stomach. I might have been poisoned. Oh! What’s wrong with my head? It feels like it’s turned into a washing machine! I can’t grab my thoughts.”
Charlie swayed slightly.
Grace looked at Pearl and raised her eyebrows. Pearl gave her a knowing nod and stepped forward. She slowly placed her ghost hands on Charlie’s head. She closed her eyes and muttered something. Then she opened her eyes, lowered her hands and returned to Grace.
Charlie blinked rapidly. “Oh, that’s better. I don’t know what you did but I feel much better, thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Pearl said quietly.
Grace shot her a look. Pearl shot her one back and said, “Don’t even think of asking what I’ve just done. Get your questions in before he has another funny turn.”
Grace frowned at the old woman but turned back to Charlie. “Can you tell me more about yourself?”
He smiled. Grace noted it was a genuine smile and not the smirk that he’d shown her earlier.
He said, “My name is Charlie Ford.”
Ford?
Grace reached into her pocket and took out the business card that she’d been given earlier. She showed it to Charlie and said, “Is this one of your cards?”
“It is. And Amy is my wife. Have you met her?”
Grace looked over at Pearl. Was Pearl thinking the same thing as her?
She was. Pearl said, “Most murders are committed by people known to the victim, and most women kill by using poison.”
Grace looked back at Charlie. He laughed and said, “Don’t tell me that you think Amy killed me? By somehow poisoning me?”
Grace pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to say it but that’s exactly what she was thinking.
Chapter 7
“I think we need to go into a vision,” Grace suggested.
“A what?” Charlie asked.
Grace explained. “When I’ve helped ghosts before they’ve been attached to a physical item, something that was found in the storage unit where their belongings were. If I touch them at the same time as the ghost then we are taken into a vision. It’s like going in to a television show, we can see everything but no one can see us.”
“And what’s the point of that?” Charlie asked.
“It will give us more information about you, perhaps some more details about your death.”
Charlie grimaced. “I’m not sure I want to know how I died. Is there another way?”
Pearl cried out, “Stop being such a pain in the arse! Grace doesn’t have to help you, she’s got other things to do. For all I care you can float around this shop for eternity! Just keep out of my way.”
“Pearl! Are you okay?” Grace looked at the old ghost. Something was wrong, Pearl wasn’t usually this bad tempered.
Pearl winced and tried to smile. “Sorry, Grace love, I must be feeling the effects of whatever killed him. I need to go away for a while. Let me know how you get on.”
Before Grace could say another word Pearl disappeared.
“What’s her problem?” Charlie said, a slight smirk on his face.
“You,” Grace said without thinking. It looked liked Charlie’s obnoxious side was returning. She needed to help him as soon as possible, she wasn’t sure how long she could hold on to her own temper.
She walked over to the rack of clothes. “Did all these belong to you?”
Charlie followed her, he examined the clothes. “Yep, these are mine. I don’t know why Amy would have given them away. Are we supposed to touch them at the same time?”
“Yes, it might take a while. Let’s start at the front.”
Grace placed her hand on a black dinner jacket, Charlie did the same although his hand melted into the jacket.
He looked at Grace and raised his eyebrows. “Is something supposed to happen?”
Grace frowned. “It’s not this jacket. Let’s move on.”
Charlie gave a dramatic sigh. “This is ridiculous. Can’t you try something else?”
Grace ignored him. She had to do this, to get more information. She knew that Pearl had absorbed his symptoms. And she knew that Pearl was feeling pain. She had to carry on.
“Next jacket,” she ordered.
Nothing happened as they went through all the items on the rack.
“Stupid idea, waste of time,” Charlie muttered to himself. He took his phone out and looked at it.
“Is there anything on your phone?” Grace asked.
He shook his head. “No, it’s blank. It’s just habit I suppose.” He put it back in his pocket.
Pockets!
Grace grabbed the first dinner jacket and began to search the pockets. There could be something inside.
Charlie wasn’t convinced. He found a chair and sat down, his eyes surveyed the shop again. “It really is a mess in here, you could at least give it a lick of paint.”
“It’s on my list,” Grace mumbled. It wasn’t a nice job going through someone else’s pockets. She’d already found four used tissues. She made a mental note to wash her hands.
Grace dug deeper into a dark blue business jacket. She pulled something out.
“What’s this? Is this yours?”
Charlie jumped up and strode over to her. “Give me that! It’s mine!”
His hand swooped through the air, trying to catch hold of the gold pocket watch that Grace was dangling by a chain in front of him.
“It’s beautiful, it must be hundreds of years old. Are you sure it’s yours?”
Charlie’s eyes flashed with anger. “I found it in my house. It’s mine!”
His hand swooped through the chain.
Grace lowered the watch. This was the item that she had been looking for.
Charlie’s hand froze, his eyes widened. “What’s happening? Where has your shop gone?”
Grace looked at him and said softly, “We’re going into a vision.”
Chapter 8
The shop faded, it was replaced by a long hallway.
Grace put the watch in her pocket, they didn’t need to hold it anymore. She said, “Do you recognise where we are?”
Charlie gave a small nod. “Sort of. This is my house, Heathville, but it doesn’t look like this, or it didn’t when I lived there. Everything looks new.”
Grace looked at the furnishings and the portraits on the wall. There was a smell of bees wax in the air. “I think we’ve gone back in time.”
“Why would we do that? The past has nothing to do with me.”
“I don’t know, there must be a reason.”
Grace jumped. A cold feeling washed through her body. It was like someone had just thrown a bucket of icy water over her. She so
on saw what had caused the feeling.
Charlie’s finger was raised, it was shaking. “That man ... just walked through you.”
“He’s a ghost. Look, he’s walking down the hall. His clothes ... they look like something from the Edwardian age.”
“Eh?” Charlie said.
“About two hundred years ago. Oh, he’s coming back this way. Look at his thick whiskers.”
Grace steeled herself as the man walked through her again. It wasn’t so bad the second time. Grace spun around to see where he had gone.
The Edwardian man turned on his heels and made to retrace his steps. Grace quickly moved out of the way.
She said to Charlie, “Looks like he’s pacing up and down, he seems agitated. Is this definitely Heathville?”
“It is, the door is just the same. The original owner had that stained glass window made.”
Grace looked at the window above the door, it showed a mill set amid green fields. Her brow furrowed. “I wonder if that man is the original owner, Benjamin Heath? Oh, he’s taking something out of his pocket.”
Grace stopped talking when she saw what the item was. She turned to Charlie and raised one eyebrow.
He gave an embarrassed shrug. “So it’s the same watch, what of it? I found it in a desk when I moved in. Everything in the house belonged to me, including the contents.”
“Hmm,” Grace replied. She turned back to the pacing man. “His face is very pale. Look, he’s doing the same thing that you did earlier, putting his hand to his head.”
Another cold feeling whooshed through Grace.
A woman in a long dress appeared in front of Grace. The woman caught up to the man and tugged on his sleeve. “Benjamin! You need to rest! Come back to your bed, the doctor will be here soon.”
Benjamin shrugged the woman off. He scowled at her. “I can’t rest. Who will run the mill? Who will check the cloth? Who will pay the workers?”
The woman tried again. “We can sort everything out. Stop pacing, please, I beg you!”
“Pah! That’s just what you want isn’t it? You want our son to take over my business. You want my money! I’m not resting. Leave me alone! I need to work. I’m going to my room.”
A Different Shade Of Death: A Cozy Mystery Ghost Story (Storage Ghost Murders Book 2) Page 2