Sweet Tea and Spirits

by Angie Fox

  Lord almighty. I’d walked straight into that man’s home this morning and been much too honest with him. “Kids for a joyride wouldn’t stop by the side door to a society home.”

  “You wouldn’t think,” Ellis agreed grimly. “We’ll be able to see the tracks better in the morning. In the meantime, we need to check out the route up the hill and see if we can find any more tracks.”

  Right through the graveyard.

  I was getting to be a regular.

  He kept his flashlight trained on the ground in front of us as we walked.

  “How did you even know I was close by just now?” I asked. Frankie had found me rather stealthy.

  “Your dress swishes,” he said simply.

  Leave it to Ellis to notice every detail.

  “The cemetery is really creepy,” I said, dread tickling my stomach.

  He pursed his lips together, almost amused. “Coming from you, that’s saying something.”

  “Hey now.” I nudged him. “I’m not overly brave. I just do what needs to be done.”

  “And then some,” he said, wrapping an arm around me, drawing me close.

  Even still, I barely contained a shiver as we came upon the cemetery. The dirt path led straight through it. At least I hoped it led to the other side. I couldn’t see much past the swirling fog and graves.

  That was okay, I promised myself. I had Ellis with me. Yet even he had slowed.

  The translucent shadow of a spirit clung to the grave to my right. It slithered around the headstone like a snake.

  “Hello,” I whispered.

  “You need to stop and talk?” Ellis asked, his voice tight. He shone his light into the graveyard, warily assessing our situation. I could tell something didn’t feel right to him. He was a good cop and he could tell when a place felt off. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell him what to do about it at the moment.

  “No,” I said, disappointed as the spirit sank into the weed-strewn ground. There had to be something I could do for these ghosts.

  The graves lay dozens deep on either side of us. The night air felt heavy and still.

  The sound of soft weeping reached my ears. “You hear that?”

  Ellis took a firm grip on my hand. “No,” he answered. “Do we need to run?”

  I shook my head. “I think she’s just sad.” The sound came from Ellis’s side, and when I looked, I saw the likely reason. A large fallen oak had crushed at least a half-dozen stones. The weeping sounded like it was coming from underneath.

  I looked back and saw only fog behind us. “I think we’re okay if we keep to the path.” At least nothing had come after us so far.

  We paused for a few moments.

  Ellis began moving again, but lurched to a halt almost immediately. A second later I heard why. Voices floated down the path. From our world, not the ghosts’.

  “We can’t just walk in,” a woman’s voice protested mildly.

  “Yes, we can. You have a key and you know the alarm code.”

  “We never even set the alarm before Julia.”

  I gripped Ellis’s arm. “They’re going to sneak into the society house!” I whispered.

  They would be upon us soon.

  “Will you be okay if we go farther in?” Ellis asked quietly, drawing me off the path, toward the graves.

  “I hope so.” We weren’t going to learn anything if we made ourselves known. “This way,” I hissed, leading him toward the fallen oak tree.

  I tripped over shards of stone, offering up my silent apologies to the owners of those graves.

  Ellis and I ducked behind the large log. The weeping intensified, and it was coming from underneath our hiding place.

  A light bobbed a short distance away. We’d barely made it.

  “I could get into trouble,” the woman fretted. “You said this wasn’t that important.”

  “It isn’t, baby. It’s nothing,” he crooned. “Just a loose end I have to tie up.”

  Chilly air seeped from under the log and I forced myself to remain hidden.

  They were almost upon us.

  I felt a watery touch on my ankle.

  “Well, as long as the envelope has your name on it, I suppose it belongs to you,” she reasoned, unable to keep the worry out of her voice.

  “I’ll know it when I see it,” he said. “She must have taken it here by mistake.” They passed us at that moment and I caught a glimpse of him in the beam of her light. It was Vincent and Constance.

  “I told you I don’t like you talking about her,” Constance complained as they moved on.

  He gave a low, conciliatory chuckle. “You’re the one I want,” he promised, his voice trailing away as they drew farther from us. “It’s always been you.”

  When they’d made it out of the graveyard, I shot up from our hiding place and looked down to see a silky gray shadow wrapped around my ankle.

  I bit back a cry and launched myself toward the path, feeling like I’d just run through a dozen sticky spiderwebs. “Ew, ew, ew!” I whispered, dancing in a small circle.

  Ellis was on me in a second. “Are you okay?” he asked in my ear.

  “Fine,” I said in a mouse voice. “Go get ’em. I’ll catch up.”

  “I’m not leaving you.” He looked down the path then back at me. “Besides, I can’t arrest him for talking about breaking in.”

  “But they’re up to no good,” I said, rubbing my ankle.

  He rested one of his thumbs in his belt loop. “It’s sketchy. She has a key, and she could claim she’s doing society work.”

  “We both know she’s not.”

  We trailed Vincent and Constance down the path, careful to maintain our distance from the bobbing lights ahead of us. They were almost to the backyard. We stopped at the edge as we watched them creep toward the house.

  “We’re not going to let them break in,” I said.

  “We’re not.” Ellis tensed beside me as he watched them walk toward the side stairs. “Follow my lead.”

  Gladly. “I’m right behind you.”

  Chapter 15

  We came upon them at the front door. Vincent shone his light down, illuminating Constance’s hand as she turned her key in the lock.

  “Evening, Vincent,” Ellis said, strolling casually toward the pair.

  I hung back, not quite sure what he had planned.

  “Officer Wydell,” Vincent said, startled. His light bobbed away from the door. The older man had changed into a dark green sweater and black pants, which appeared quite warm for a summer evening. Perhaps that explained the ruddiness of his cheeks under the glare of Ellis’s light, not to mention the sheen of sweat on his forehead. “You’re…not here on official business, are you?”

  Ellis shot him a friendly grin, strolling across the front lawn like he owned it, but I could feel the tension in his voice. “I’m opening up a restaurant down the street. Verity and I were headed from there and figured we’d stop off. She was showing me where she had her accident,” he added, pointing out the spot on the lawn where my tires had encountered the begonias.

  “I still don’t know what happened,” I said.

  Constance brought a hand to her very bare chest. She wore a simple black shift, with mussed hair this time. And no necklace. “Ah, well, it’s lovely to see you. Sorry to interrupt, but I forgot my folder for the Sweet Tea party.” Now I knew she was lying. She’d never call a visit with me lovely. Constance cracked the door, seemingly eager to escape our company. “I’ll just be inside for a minute.”

  “We’ll be sure to lock up after we leave,” Vincent said, placing a hand on her back, smooth as always.

  “We’ll go with you,” Ellis said, climbing the porch steps, casual as he delivered their worst nightmare. “There’s been some unusual activity here and I want you to be safe.”

  “I’ll go in as well,” I told her, right on his heels. “I believe I may have left my sunglasses inside. It was so kind of you and Larissa to let me in the house the other day.”
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  Constance shot a panicked look to Vincent. “We did let her in. It was the day after Julia died and the ghosts—”

  “How many times do I have to tell you,” Vincent said, ushering her inside, “it’s all in your head.”

  “You don’t need to manhandle me,” she said, her cheeks flushing as she eased out of his grip. She didn’t appear pleased, but she did his bidding. She walked slowly toward the hidden office, giving me time to go someplace, anyplace else.

  In her dreams.

  “We’ll stay out here,” Ellis said, keeping an eye on Vincent, who hesitated but didn’t argue. “This must be difficult for you,” Ellis said, watching the man carefully.

  “You can’t imagine,” Vincent said. He glanced to the bottom of the stairs, to where his wife had been found dead.

  “I didn’t realize you and Constance were close,” I said, hoping for a reaction.

  Vincent cleared his throat. “We’re not. I was just doing her a favor.”

  That earned him a dirty look from his girlfriend. She triggered the lever in the wall, and the door creaked open.

  “Need any help?” I asked, walking to join her.

  “She’s fine,” Vincent said, stepping in front of me, blocking my way.

  Now who wasn’t being subtle?

  “Oh, I’m not about to let her search alone,” I assured him. “It wouldn’t be proper of me.” I treated him to a wide smile as I slipped past him. “Sisterhood and all,” I added.

  Besides, I was quite curious to see what Constance was doing in there.

  I found her at Julia’s desk.

  “Verity,” she said, stepping back from the desk like it was on fire, “you scared me.”

  I could tell. “You looked a little stressed when you came in,” I said quite honestly. She was also standing near the spot where I’d left Julia’s list. I scanned the messy desk, but didn’t spot it right away.

  “I’m perfectly all right,” Constance said, lingering by the fireplace. “Aren’t you supposed to be looking for your sunglasses?”

  Among other things. “They could be anywhere,” I mused, keeping an eye out for Mother Mary. I tried my best to be subtle, but I really didn’t like Constance standing by that desk.

  When she showed no sign of moving, I strolled over to the side table with the tea pitchers and the paperwork laid out on top. “Oh, look. Here’s everything for the Sweet Tea Luncheon.”

  “Ah,” she said, with forced cheer, joining me. “I’m so glad you found it.”

  She reached for a stack of folders and I stopped her, catching her wrist as a ghostly pair of hands appeared directly in her path. They were old and wrinkled, with nails cut to the quick. And as they came into focus, I saw they clutched a black beaded rosary.

  Mother Mary.

  I stilled, waiting for the rest of her to appear.

  “Don’t be rude,” Constance said, shaking me off. She reached straight through Mother Mary’s grasping fingers, barely looking as she whipped a folder out of the stack. “Right on top,” she said, giving a cursory glance inside.

  A crackling sounded from the fireplace behind the desk and I watched as a ghostly fire flared to life amid the dead ashes. “Holy smokes,” I whispered. “Mother Mary is right here,” I told the startled socialite.

  She paled. “Oh. My.” She hesitated. “I suppose this is all I need,” she said, making a beeline past Vincent, who hovered in the doorway, frowning.

  “We’ll walk you out,” Ellis said from behind him.

  I turned back to face the old nun. “I’m so glad to make your acquaintance,” I said. “Were you the one who stopped my car?” I added, cringing as her energy grew dim and her hands began to disappear. “Wait!” Mother Mary’s image faded completely. “We need to talk,” I added. But she didn’t appear again.

  I swallowed my disappointment. I couldn’t imagine why she’d shown herself so briefly.

  “Isn’t Verity coming?” Vincent asked from out in the foyer.

  I supposed I must. “Be right there,” I said on a sigh.

  When I joined them, I saw that Vincent had purposely stayed a proper distance from his girlfriend. Too late for that. Constance, on the other hand, fidgeted nervously with the folder.

  “It isn’t very admirable,” he said to me, “scaring her like that.”

  “Tell that to the ghosts,” Ellis mused.

  We escorted the other couple to the door and Ellis held it open for them.

  Vincent hesitated, his displeasure clear. “Aren’t you two leaving as well?”

  “Of course.” I glanced to Ellis, not sure what else to do.

  “After I do a walk-through and make sure this place is secure,” Ellis clarified.

  Vincent lingered in the doorway, but he couldn’t argue with the law.

  “You should take your wife’s car home,” I suggested, feeling the need to bring her up. I’d assumed her husband had been too grief stricken to care about a car he wasn’t driving, but we now knew that wasn’t the case.

  “I will. Soon,” he said, without conviction. He patted his pockets, without any actual effort to locate anything. “I just don’t have the keys with me.”

  “There’s a set in the office,” I offered.

  Constance stood on the front porch behind him. “I told you I’m not riding in that thing,” she said under her breath.

  “Well, goodbye,” I said cheerfully.

  “Yes, goodbye,” Vincent muttered, turning to leave. “Thank you very much, Officer Wydell.”

  “Any time.” Ellis closed the door behind him.

  “You’re good,” I said, turning to him, giving him a peck on the cheek.

  He ran a hand up my back. “You’re not so bad yourself.” He turned my peck into a full-blown kiss that made my toes curl.

  Just when I was getting into it, he eased away.

  “You hear that?” He peered through the lace curtains.

  “No,” I said, still in his arms. “What?”

  The widow and his latest socialite stood arguing by his dead wife’s car. He spotted us and urged her to move along.

  “They could be hiding something in the car,” I said.

  “Not with us watching,” Ellis said, smiling as he waved at them.

  I joined him. “What if they come back?”

  “Then we’ll be here,” Ellis said, turning the lock. “But I doubt they will with every light blazing. I’m going to walk through the house. I wasn’t lying when I said I needed to give it a second look. Especially by the side door. There could be evidence the police missed.”

  “Marshall didn’t look anywhere but at the bottom of the stairs,” I recalled.

  “I know,” Ellis said grimly. “And while you two were in the office, Vincent suggested we spend the time taking a look at the museum.”

  Perhaps he believed in ghosts more than he’d let on. Or maybe he’d wanted to find something else.

  “I told him he wasn’t allowed back there,” Ellis said. “He didn’t push it.”

  “Nice job, Officer Wydell,” I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  “I like this job.” He grinned. “It has perks.”

  “Yes, well, while you get to work searching the house, I’ll see what I can find in the president’s office. And for the record, I wasn’t trying to scare anybody back there. Mother Mary appeared right over the planning table.” Maybe she would again. “I also need to grab Julia’s list.” I’d keep it in my bag now that we knew it could be important. And then there was the envelope Vincent had been here to find, the one addressed to him that he thought Julia had taken from their house and hidden. “Vincent’s envelope might take some searching.”

  “We’ve got all night,” Ellis mused.

  That we did.

  * * *

  I admit I felt a little hesitant entering Julia’s office alone. Mother Mary’s appearance had been brief, and she hadn’t threatened me this time, but I knew from experience that ghosts could be unpredictable.
r />   I steeled myself and stepped inside. At least this time, I had Ellis within yelling distance.

  The ghostly fire burned in the hearth as I made my way to Julia’s desk. I’d left her list right on top, by the pink shaded lamp and next to Mother Mary’s otherworldly ledger book.

  It wasn’t there.

  I looked through all of the papers in that area, and nearby, and on the desk entirely, my concern growing as I discovered the list wasn’t among them.

  Perhaps Constance had taken it.

  I should never have told Vincent what I’d found. Virginia had been right about that. Maybe I needed to think before I spoke sometimes. In my defense, I’d had no way of knowing Vincent was capable of such deception.

  Secrecy be darned. I sat down in Mother Mary’s old chair, half-daring her to appear once more. “I don’t mean to pry, but I do intend to get to the bottom of this,” I warned her.

  The fire let out a sharp pop behind me.

  The ghosts had drawn me here for a reason.

  First things first, I made a stack of every paper on the desk. And then I sorted them. Congratulatory cards went in one pile. I’d save them for…perhaps Julia’s friends in the society. Vincent wouldn’t appreciate them. I made a pile for society-related business. Mostly committee reports for the incoming president. A directory of member phone numbers, some blank membership forms… The list wasn’t among any of it.

  I sighed.

  At least I knew what it said.

  Still, proof was hard to come by in my line of work and I hated to think it had slipped through my fingers.

  Vincent’s envelope hadn’t been among the paperwork, either.

  The desk was wide, with drawers on both sides. I started on the top, right drawer and found it empty. The drawer below it had originally held Julia’s list, but this time, it sat empty as well.

  I could see why Julia had stacked her desk with paperwork. The drawers were too narrow for file folders, and it would have been a shame to even try to hook anything over the antique wood. It seemed strange she’d leave them empty, though.