Some Like it Haunted (A Sophie Rhodes Ghostly Romane Book 2)

by Karen Cantwell

“But what if your bones aren’t there?” I asked her. “That’s a rose garden. Gardeners have been digging there for years and years. If your bones were there, don’t you think someone would have uncovered them already?”

  “What is she saying?” Mr. Haviland asked. “She wants us to dig up the rose garden?”

  “Do not argue with a ghost,” Marmi said. “If she feels her remains lie beneath that soil, I assure you, they do.”

  “That’s right,” Myrtle said, nodding. “Just what he said. Should I keep makin’ a racket or are ya gonna dig me up?”

  I raised an eyebrow at Mr. Haviland. “She wants her remains exhumed. It’s a ghost thing,” I explained. “They like their bodies treated with respect. You can understand that, right?”

  “The historical society is particular about the rose garden.”

  Myrtle opened her mouth wide and let loose. I covered my ears again.

  “All right!” Haviland shouted. “All right! I’ll make the call!”

  Myrtle shut up. “Tell him thank ya.”

  He dialed his cell and spoke in hushed tones, nodding and talking, nodding and talking. “Yes,” he said louder, and throwing me a helpless look. “I know it sounds crazy, but I do believe it is necessary for resuming order.”

  “Crazy?” Myrtle yelled. “Crazy? I’ll show them who’s crazy.” She stood and fixed her gaze on a window, shattering it.

  “Oh, she just broke a window,” he said into the phone.

  Myrtle kept going, window after window, blowing them into a thousand pieces.

  “There goes another,” he said, “and another...yes!” he shouted. “Tell her to cease,” he said to me. “They’ve agreed.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Two men dug for over an hour. The rose bushes had some persistent roots. Mr. Haviland and I sat on the fountain nearby, watching and waiting. The deeper they dug, the less confident I was about Myrtle’s ghost sense.

  “If they don’t find any bones,” Haviland said, “I can kiss this job goodbye.”

  The news copter continued to circle overhead. “But if they do,” I countered, looking up, “it will be on the six o’clock news, and I think you’ll be able to demand a significant raise.”

  Up to their chests now in a vast crater, one of the men stopped and shouted. “I think we found something!”

  “I told you to have faith,” Marmi said.

  Myrtle’s bones made the six o’clock news, and Mr. Haviland had his fifteen minutes of fame.

  Detective Sigmund arrived, taking control and declaring it a crime scene.

  “They’ll find my mama now,” Myrtle said happily. “And she’ll give my body the funeral it shoulda gotten.”

  Marmaduke and I pulled Myrtle aside. “Myrtle,” I said. “I have some bad news. That man there—he’s the detective from the article. He’s the one who reopened your missing person case. He told me this morning that your mother passed away last year.”

  Her shoulders slumped, and she crumpled to her knees.

  “Chin up,” Marmi told her. “Sophie will be most diligent in seeing you receive the most respectful of burials.”

  “Seeing her was a lot to hope for,” Myrtle said. “She woulda been an old woman, I guess.”

  “So what do you say? Are you ready to come home with Marmi and me?”

  “You promise they’ll take good care of my body now?”

  “I promise. Besides, they’re not going to take my word for it that those are your remains. They’ll be running tests. It could be a couple of weeks before they’re ready to release them.”

  The sky had grown cloudier as the day wore on. Feeling drops a block from my car, I made a dash. I slammed my door shut, barely avoiding the start of a heavy downpour.

  Lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Storms rarely make me smile, but this one did. A quick glance at the clock on my dash confirmed what I’d hoped. Cal would have to cancel practice if he hadn’t already. We could have that talk after all.

  It occurred to me on my drive to his place that all of our problems had started the night our two-month anniversary dinner had been interrupted. My solution: plan a new night. Start from the beginning. No ghosts, no mothers, no ex-wives, no spells.

  The rain had let up some by the time I reached his street, but lightning still flashed in the dark sky. My fingers tightened around my steering wheel when I saw Rachel’s car parked out front. Cal’s car was in the driveway behind his mother’s. I slowed the car to a near crawl, craning my neck to see through the passenger side.

  Cal’s curtains were pulled open and his house was lit up well enough for me to easily see Rachel standing in his living room. His mother sat in a tall wing-back chair that she had given him. A moment later, Cal walked into view with a wine bottle. He filled a glass for Rachel and then one for his mother.

  What a cozy scene. Even the fireplace was lit.

  “What are you stoppin’ for?” Myrtle asked. “You go in there and fight for your man.”

  “Under certain circumstances, I’d agree with you,” I said. “But not these. I’m outmatched in there.”

  “You’re never outmatched with love on your side.”

  I shook my head. Nope. I didn’t have it in me to deal with those two women after the day I’d had. I motored along. Time to go home.

  “I suggest we partake in some activity of distraction,” said Marmaduke. “A movie perhaps. We can watch a movie and you can drown your sorrows by ingesting copious amounts of ice cream. Is that not a common tradition of yours?”

  “I love movies!” Myrtle clapped her hands together. “Especially Elvis movies. Can we watch an Elvis movie?”

  We didn’t find any Elvis movies on cable, but we did find Jerry Maguire with Tom Cruise and Renee Zellweger. A classic romance, although it probably wasn’t the best choice given my state of mind. We watched it anyway while I shoved heaping spoonfuls of double chocolate fudge ice cream into my mouth.

  I started crying during the elevator scene when the man tells his deaf girlfriend, “You complete me,” in sign language. I blubbered right through to the end when Jerry, realizing what a fool he has been, repeats the same words to a teary-eyed Renee Zellweger.

  “You complete me,” bawled Myrtle. “That’s the most beautiful thing I ever heard a man say to a woman. Even Elvis isn’t that romantic.” She sighed. “You complete me.”

  Even Marmaduke was a little emotional. I caught him dabbing his eyes. “I admit, I do miss the electric thrill of courting a lover. I should like to feel the spark again one day. Spontaneously and without the aid of devious witches.”

  I clicked off the TV with the remote. “Do you think I complete Cal?” I asked him, wiping tears from my face.

  “I am sure of it,” said Marmaduke.

  “Then why isn’t he here? With me? Instead of with Rancid Rachel?”

  “I still say you should call him,” Myrtle said.

  I shook my head. “No. Absolutely not. He was the one who wanted to talk. Look at the time. Why hasn’t he tried to call me? Isn’t he worried about me? No. The ball is in his court.” I sighed, my tears finally drying. Then I thought of Jerry Maguire and started bawling all over again.

  I woke up early the next morning to the sound of my cell phone ringing.

  Amy wanted the inside story of what had gone down at Spencer House the day before. She’d been on duty in the ER all day and had only heard a few details from Shane, who had received bits and pieces from his buddies who had been called in to keep the peace. She was more anxious than ever to implement her Milwaukee Medium-inspired idea. Not being in the best mood anyway, I wasn’t exactly enthusiastic.

  “At least ask Tara, okay?”

  My doorbell rang. “I need to go,” I said. “Someone is at my door.”

  “Ask
her,” Amy pressed.

  “I will. I will. Talk to you later.”

  I wrapped my robe around myself and cinched it before checking through my peephole. Cal stood in the hallway outside my door, holding a soda cup and a brown paper bag. I let him in, but played it cool.

  “Whatcha got there?”

  “Bagels and soda.”

  “For me?”

  “For Marmaduke.”

  I laughed. “Good one.”

  He handed me the soda and set the bag on the table. Right away I noticed his hands shaking. I felt a pit in my stomach the size of California. This was the talk he wanted to have. Not a good talk from the looks of things.

  I stared at the soda cup awkwardly, unable to face the inevitable. “Myrtle was on the news last night.”

  He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “And again this morning,” he said, pacing. “It’s been a wild few days. Haunted houses, witches, warlocks.”

  “I don’t believe there have been any warlocks,” interrupted Marmaduke, appearing almost on Cal’s heels.

  Cal laid into him. “Ten minutes,” he said through gritted teeth. “Give me ten minutes with her alone. Do you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear.” Marmi disappeared in a huff.

  I’d been the dumpee enough times in my life to read the signs. The token peace offering. The pacing. The hands in the pockets. The averted eyes. Cal was pulling a textbook maneuver.

  The last time it happened with Shane, I promised myself never again. The next time I’d have the upper hand. I’d control the breakup.

  Maybe it was Rachel. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was the ghosts and the witches and the warlocks. Who knew? Whatever it was didn’t matter because I was in control this time.

  I blurted the words fast so it would be like ripping off a band-aid. “It’s over, Cal. You can take your bagels and leave. I’ve had enough.” I realized that sounded like I’d had enough bagels. Not dramatic enough. I needed this breakup to have force. “I’ve had enough of your crap, I mean.”

  He stopped pacing at least. “My crap?”

  “I went to your place last night. Rachel was there.”

  “Oh.”

  “And you know what? It’s not just your crap. It’s mine. I realized when I saw her there that it didn’t bother me.”

  “It didn’t?”

  “Not really. Not like it should.”

  “Wait,” he stuttered. “Are you mad at me or aren’t you?”

  I saw where this was going. Nervy move. He’d planned to break up with me, but wanted to play nice so I’d keep working for him. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Typical man. I picked up the bag of bagels, shoved them into his hands and opened the door. “We’re through and I quit. Find yourself a new receptionist.”

  Cal hugged the bag like a five-year-old hugging a teddy bear as he crossed the threshold to leave. He turned to say something, but I slammed the door and locked it before I could regret my decision.

  “That was...sudden,” Marmaduke said.

  “I panicked,” I said. “He was going to break up with me. I could feel it. So I went first.”

  Myrtle shook her head and tsked a few times. “I think I woulda waited to hear what he had to say.”

  I ran to my room and cried on my bed until my tear ducts dried up.

  “What am I going to do, Marmi?” I asked him as I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling.

  “I wish I had an answer for you, Sophie. I am afraid this is not my area of expertise. Had I a body, I would gladly offer a hug to soothe your weary heart.”

  “You’re so sweet,” I said.

  I rolled over and thought of someone who could give me a hug. Someone who gave the best hugs in the world.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Hi Grampy,” I said. “I need some love.”

  “What’s wrong, Muffin?”

  I grabbed onto him and he squeezed me tight. He always gave the longest, most heartfelt hugs. They were hugs that said I love you without words.

  “I’m just having a bad day,” I sniffed.

  “Sit down, I’ll get you a glass of milk and some cookies. I made ‘em just yesterday. Maybe my best batch yet.”

  I pulled a chair out from his small kitchen table. There were a lot of memories at this table. Grampy was a grandpa and grandma all rolled into one. When my mother’s mother died far too early, Grampy filled her shoes without missing a beat, according to my mom. She was only fourteen when her mother died. Grampy was there for her emotionally and physically. He was her chef, her chauffeur to dance competitions that were sometimes hours away, her champion, her counselor, and her shoulder to cry on when she needed it.

  And when my brother and I came along, he was the best Grampy ever. He cooked hearty meals and tasty desserts one day, then would teach us to fish the next.

  He placed a cold glass of milk and a plate of chocolate chip cookies in front of me. When he sat, he gave me his undivided attention. “Tell me about it.”

  A tear fell onto my cheek. I didn’t want to cry. I wanted to be stronger than that.

  “Cal and I broke up,” I said, letting the tears give way. They spilled out in torrents. “And I thought he was the one. My one true love. You know, like you and Grammy.”

  His big warm hands covered mine. “I’m sorry, Muffin,” he said. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  Now, the thing was, I’d never told Grampy about Marmaduke. As loving and supportive as he was, I just never had the courage to bring it up. Shane and Amy’s reactions early on had burned me from trying to confess to anyone else that I’d met a ghost in a bar. I always figured I’d tell him one day, it just hadn’t happened yet. No time had ever felt like the right time.

  “We had a fight,” I said. “Well, not really a fight, I guess.”

  “A misunderstanding?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Kinda. Kind of like a misunderstanding.”

  “Do you still think he’s your one true love?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Then be patient. Everyone has misunderstandings. Turning them into understandings is how you learn to love each other more.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m the one who broke it off. A lot has been happening. His ex-wife has been wheedling her way between us. And he’s having trouble...I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to explain.”

  “He can’t deal with the ghosts?”

  I nearly stopped crying from surprise. “How did you know?”

  “Your Grammy saw them too. I’ve suspected for a while now that you were like your grammy.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I wasn’t sure. And that’s not the kind of thing you just blurt out. ‘Do you see ghosts?’ I did that to your mother once, certain she was seeing spirits like her mother did. Turned out she was just having a bad case of puberty. But I freaked her out there for a while.”

  “Wow.” I pondered this new bit of information. “So, did you have trouble with it? Her talking to people you couldn’t see?”

  “Ha! Are you kidding me? It nearly did us in. She was a firecracker, your grandmother. Always had to be fixing things and helping people. And ghosts. Sometimes I felt like they were more important than I was.”

  “But you worked it out. You figured out how to live with it?”

  “I did, darlin’, but it takes two to tango. She had to meet me halfway.”

  I munched on a cookie and gave that some thought. “Do you believe in soul mates?” I asked him.

  “Nope. Not in a million years. There’s just too many souls out there for two to be meant for each other alone. What I believe is that there are a whole lotta souls out there that could be meant for each other, given the right ingredients. They feel the
spark, the magic, but it’s the work you put into it once you decide to be together, to be a team, that’s what keeps the magic alive.”

  “So why didn’t you look for another person to be a part of your life? Why do you choose to be alone?”

  “I’m not alone,” he said quickly. “I have you.”

  “Not every day. You know what I mean.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I dated a few women, but none of them matched up to your Grammy in my mind.” He shrugged. After we sat in peaceful silence for a while he asked, “Are there any spirits hanging around here right now?”

  I wasn’t sure if there were. I thought I felt Marmi and Myrtle’s presence. “Marmi, are you there?”

  “Present and accounted for,” he said, making himself seen.

  “I just love your grand pappy,” Myrtle said. “Those cookies look delicious.” She sighed. “I miss eating cookies.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, there are a couple hanging around. They say ‘hi’.”

  Many hours and two meals later, I left Grampy’s house feeling better than when I had arrived. I was still confused and doubting what I’d done, but not entirely lost in a sea without hope.

  Detective Sigmund called me as I was getting into my car. “Thanks to Myrtle and the news coverage, we didn’t have to go searching for Victoria Poplawski. She came to us.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “She confessed. In a manner of speaking. She claims her then-boyfriend killed Myrtle. Smothered her after the baby was born. He sold the baby to a broker. They did it for the money, obviously, but she never thought the boyfriend would kill Myrtle. I’ve got no reason to doubt her since she came forward, but we’re talking to the boyfriend tomorrow. He’s in a prison down south. A real winner, this one. I’ll keep you posted when I learn more.”

  “Thanks, Ed.” I backed my battered Honda out of Grampy’s driveway and headed for home. Marmi and Myrtle had talked me into watching another movie. I felt an urge to rub Uno’s head and to let Peter Pan out of his cage for some good snuggle time. Halfway there though, I had a change of heart. Instead of turning left at the light ahead, I decided I’d go straight through. Cal’s house was just a few minutes away.