“True,” Charlie agreed. “Still, I think it would be fun to make him jealous. Make him think twice before he chooses to keep ignoring you.”
“That’s the thing, he isn’t ignoring me,” I said quietly. “He really does seem torn.”
Charlie tossed her hair off her shoulders. “I think he loves you, and you’re going to end up married,” she said.
“Charlie Silver! Bite your tongue. If you say one more word about me marrying anyone I’m going to bring up Hansen.”
“Excuse me! What about him?” Charlie asked.
“You know perfectly well what,” I informed her.
Even in the dark car I could see her face heat up. It was becoming clear even to Charlie just how much she liked Hansen Gregory. And that it was not in the “Let’s be friends” sort of way.
“I just wanted to talk about Jasper because I know how much you care about him,” she said. “And how much he cares about you.”
“What do you think the Wolf Corporation is doing with the house across the street?” I asked.
“Who knows. Hopefully not turning it into a place that gets rented out. That sounds like the worst,” she said.
I cringed. “Yeah, that does sound unpleasant.”
“Not as unpleasant as the word marriage, though,” said Charlie with a delighted grin. I groaned.
We drove in silence for a time, then Charlie piped up again. “You know what’s going on with Deacon, don’t you?”
I frowned at the road.
“Maybe he is having second thoughts about the relationship,” I ventured. “He’s focused on his work. He has a lot of responsibilities these days. Maybe he feels the weight of all of that. Greer knows him best, so if there’s a problem I’m sure she can tell.”
“Greer doesn’t have a clue,” said Charlie with satisfaction.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Because I’m the detective,” she said.
“You’re a reporter who has dubbed yourself an investigative reporter. I would say that’s different,” I corrected her.
“We can agree to disagree,” she said quickly. “To get back to the point, though. . . .” She was really enjoying this conversation.
“What’s the point?” I asked, resigning myself to Charlie’s idea of knowing more than Greer.
“He’s going to ask her to marry him. I know, I said that word again, but since it wasn’t about you I do hope you’ll forgive me.” Charlie was outright smirking. Paws only looked that happy when he had cornered not one but two mice.
I was so surprised, I nearly slammed on the brakes. Charlie murmured for me to watch the road, and I did, but I was in shock. The idea had occurred to me, of course. We were all in our late twenties. Greer and Deacon had been together since high school. They could have gotten married years ago and no one would have been surprised.
Except for Mrs. Dice, obviously. She would be surprised any time Greer found a handsome man to put up with her, of that much I was certain.
“When and how did you reach that conclusion?” I demanded.
I wouldn’t have thought Charlie could say anything that could distract me from the negative events of the evening. We’d gone to a coven meeting where Hansen’s life was in danger. Then both our lives had been in danger from dark ghosts. After that I had rushed home and gone out again to spend the evening with, of all people, Gracie Coswell. To say that the night wasn’t going well would have been an understatement. And yet here we were, with Charlie telling me that Deacon was going to propose to Greer.
“All the signs are there. It’s actually really obvious,” said Charlie.
“I don’t see the signs,” I said.
“It’s what she said tonight. He’s talking about the future. He wants to know what she wants. She told me that just the other day he pointed out how long they’d been together. They have, in fact, been together for a really long time. Some women would be furious with their boyfriends if they’d taken this long to pop the question,” said Charlie.
“He asked you about rings, didn’t he?” I asked, the light dawning at last.
Charlie grinned. “He sure did. He asked what I thought Greer would want, because you know, she’s such a grump. We talked about not even getting her an engagement ring, maybe just an engagement bottle of alcohol She could drown her sorrows about finally giving in and following a conventional path.”
I snorted. Greer did hate to be predictable. She also didn’t care what society thought.
“What did you decide on?” I asked.
“Deacon had a great-aunt who didn’t have kids. She and her husband were super happy, and before she passed away she knew Greer and adored her. She left Deacon her engagement ring. It’s not Greer’s style, but he’s going to have the stones reset to make a ring. Hers is going to be platinum, because it’s such a tough metal. He says that’s so even when she’s mad at him and trying to destroy her ring, she won’t be able to. In all honesty, I think that’s his favorite part about the whole thing,” Charlie concluded.
I wiped a tear away from my face. It really was the sweetest thing. Despite Greer’s bluster, I knew she wanted to marry Deacon. Even if it took them a while to actually walk down the aisle, she was going to be the happiest bride.
Just as soon as she got away from both sets of parents.
“How’s she going to feel about the actual wedding?” I asked.
Charlie smirked. “That’s what the bottle of alcohol would have been for,” she said.
Greer’s mother could drive anyone to drink. When combined with Deacon’s mother, the wedding planning would be all-out war.
We arrived at the long private road that led to Mrs. Smith’s house. The gate was open, so I turned down the drive, which looked freshly paved. There were no lights, and it was nearly a mile before we came within sight of the house.
“Wow,” muttered Charlie, shifting uncomfortably. The house was like a castle. An imposing structure made entirely of stone, it looked more like a fortress than a dwelling.
“Have you ever been here before?” she whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” I asked.
She shrugged and looked uncomfortable.
“I haven’t been here before,” I said in a normal voice. There was one light on in the house and a car packed out front that I assumed was Gracie’s.
“You’re going to have to distract her while I look for the ghost,” I said. Charlie could also see ghosts, but we both knew it would be better if I was the one who went and found the gardener’s, presuming he had in fact met his end.
“Right you are. A walk through the night in the company of a chatterbox with a possible murderer on the loose. I can’t imagine anything I’d rather be doing,” Charlie said ruefully.
“Maybe she’ll have some good gossip for you, something you can print in the Gazette,” I offered, trying to sound positive. The Mintwood Gazette was the local newspaper. Charlie was their star reporter.
Charlie sighed gustily. “Yeah, she might. We’ll see.” She wasn’t convinced.
Just as we parked, the front door swung open and out came Gracie, dressed in tan slacks and a red blouse with a black jacket over it. I frowned. She looked like she was going to a business meeting, not strolling around the grounds of her grandmother’s house after dark.
“We didn’t dress for the occasion,” I said, thinking maybe I should have changed after the coven meeting. All I’d done was remove my cape.
“Too late now,” said Charlie, stepping out of the car.
Gracie walked up to us with her hand outstretched. “Thank you so much for coming,” she gushed. “It really is a weight off my mind.”
“You’re welcome. Are there any updates on the case?” I asked.
“Detective Cutter hasn’t found anything definitive yet. I know he talked to the family and the staff here. He also tried to speak to my grandmother. As usual she didn’t really know what was going on,” she said.
“What did he determine?
” I asked.
“He thinks foul play was involved. At first I thought he was talking about foul balls in baseball, but I guess not? I was dating this minor league player for a while. He explained the rules to me . . .” She trailed off.
Charlie and I exchanged looks.
Gracie clearly hadn’t remembered many of the rules. Maybe that accounted for the breakup.
“Let’s look around, shall we?” I asked.
I was still a little surprised to find myself here. Gracie had never warmed to me. The idea that she had even noticed that I was successful at something surprised me. I thought she only noticed eyeshadow colors.
“Why don’t you show us the garden shed?” I offered. “Then maybe we should split up.”
Gracie nodded.
“Good idea,” said Charlie approvingly.
Gracie led us around the house, swinging the large flashlight she had brought from side to side as we walked. Unsurprisingly, the grass was bright green and perfectly cut.
“I don’t like wild animals,” she whispered. “It’s one of my greatest fears that a raccoon will jump out at me.” She was moving the light so fast I was getting dizzy.
“Raccoons would be just as unhappy to see you,” I informed her.
“If that’s your greatest fear, you lead a charmed life,” Charlie added.
“Thank you,” said Gracie with a big grin.
Charlie gave me a look as if to say that she had not meant it as a compliment.
“How many people work for your grandmother?” I asked as we moved through the dark.
“Oh, I don’t know. A few. She has a couple of rotating caretakers, a butler, and a chef. A maid comes a couple of times a week. I think that’s it? Nothing too extravagant,” she said.
“Only one gardener?” I said.
“Of course. Everyone loves Burbank! We’d be lost without him. He has worked here for years! He has a wife, and I think she has a son from a previous relationship. Maybe? My grandmother would always talk about it, but I wasn’t always listening,” said Gracie was a toss of her shoulder.
Charlie had pulled out her notebook and started to scribble down some of what Gracie was saying. Gracie didn’t appear to mind; maybe she thought everything she said was noteworthy.
“Here’s the shed,” said Gracie triumphantly, as if finding it had been a great achievement.
The shed was just like the rest of the property: very nice and very expensive-looking. It was built solidly of wood, so well-tended it gleamed in the beam of Gracie’s flashlight. I would have preferred to have no light on, but that was why Charlie was going to distract Gracie as soon as she could.
“Can I go inside?” I asked.
“Of course. There’s nobody in there, though. The police checked. I think after Hamilton,” she added.
“Who is Hamilton?” I asked.
“The grumpiest caretaker ever,” said Gracie. “Louise is much nicer.”
“Louise is your favorite?” said Charlie.
“Oh, no, Rebecca is my favorite. She’s the one who’s here on weekdays. My grandmother loves her as well,” Gracie said.
It was difficult keeping track of all of them, and so far I hadn’t been trying very hard.
When I opened the shed door, the smell of freshly overturned earth met my nostrils. The tools were all perfectly ordered. The floor was clean. The shed was large enough to hold a lawnmower, a tractor, and many other tools for the keeping of grounds without being the least bit crowded. I walked inside and left the other two behind.
There was nothing in shed that made me think a struggle had taken place. There were certainly no ghosts. I could hear the quiet hum of voices from outside; Charlie had asked Gracie something and Gracie was giving a long-winded answer. Or, as Gracie would call it, an answer.
In the back of the shed was a long work table, with shelves and drawers beneath the work surface. I started poking through them to see if there was anything that might give me a clue. Mostly there was nothing, just some drawings that looked like plans for the gardens Mrs. Smith wanted.
Then I found something interesting.
I noticed a piece of paper that looked less formal than the rest, just a note that someone had written by hand. “Inconsistencies. Stay quiet,” it said.
I frowned. Inconsistencies in relation to what? Stay quiet to whom? I tucked the note in my pocket without a qualm. The police had already been through the shed and left the note behind. It couldn’t hurt to take it along in case I found Burbank himself.
Gracie was still talking when I emerged from the shed. Her voice was slightly higher-pitched than before; it was clear Charlie had lost interest a long time ago, but that didn’t stop Gracie from soldiering on.
“Hey,” said Charlie with relief when she spotted me. “You ready to search?”
Gracie closed her mouth in surprise, then said, “The police already looked the place over.”
“I’d like to do my own search. Just in case,” I told her. She only nodded. I was pleasantly surprised at not getting the resistance I had expected.
“You two take the front of the house, I’ll take back,” I said, my arm sweeping out to take in the lake and a few surroundings trees, not to mention the expansive lawn.
Gracie frowned. “Are you sure? Do you want my flashlight? It’s dark back here.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “The moon is big tonight. You two head out front. I’ll give a shout if I need anything.”
When we had arrived at the mansion I had felt tired, but all of that was gone now. There was something strange about this case. I couldn’t put my finger on it yet, but something was off. Everything was too neat and easy. Detective Cutter might be right.
Foul play was involved.
Chapter Eleven
Gracie and Charlie wandered back toward the cars while I made my way to the water. Gracie was now giving Charlie an extensive history of the house. I couldn’t hear whether Charlie got a word in edgewise before they were out of hearing.
Turning to my task, I made it to the water and looked out over the loveliness of the lake. This was another end of the same lake that Jasper’s barn was on, a big enough body of water so that the barn wasn’t visible from this end, nor this mansion from the barn.
I wondered whether Jasper was in the barn night now, or maybe he was at his camp. Realistically, he was probably at home and not working at this hour. I sighed and tried to force the thought of him from my mind so that I could focus on the task at hand. Sadly, that was easier said than done.
I wandered along the water’s edge, the gentle plop-plop of wavelets hitting the shore keeping me company. Except at the very edge, the lake was still. Eventually I came around a bend to within sight of a little grove of trees. Thinking that beyond the trees there must be a little place that jutted out into the lake itself, with an even more beautiful view, I kept going.
I came around the trees and found a tiny garden, perfectly tended.
Maybe because there was a ghost gardening there, I stopped dead.
From the back I couldn’t tell if it was the missing Burbank or not. When I took a tentative step forward, Burbank looked around and frowned.
“Can you see me then?” he asked.
“I can,” I said. “Gardening?” I tried to keep the conversation light and normal. Some ghosts had a tendency to get spooked, especially if they were new.
“Just trying to do a bit of freshening up. I had meant to get to this garden today. Unfortunately, in my current state I can’t seem to pull the weeds.” He sat back on his heels, disgruntled.
“Would it be all right if I helped?” I offered.
He beamed, a look that reminded me of the face Charlie made when she got good news about a case.
“I’d be most appreciative if you did,” he said. “Say, how is it that you can see me? I’m a ghost now, right?” He didn’t sound happy about it. That was normal. He had not planned to die.
“I’m Lemmi, the Witch of Mintwood. I can see
ghosts. I also have a wand,” I said.
Times like these, it would have been good to have a business card.
The gardener nodded sagely. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Burbank.” He extended his hand and then pulled it back ruefully. “Sorry. I forgot.”
I knelt down next to him and said, “Just tell me which weeds to pull.”
He took to my suggestion with gusto. He was displeased with the state of the garden and had many little tweaks he wanted made. We worked in silence for a few minutes, then he said, “I suppose my family is upset?”
“I’ve heard they are,” I said carefully. Ghosts usually didn’t have any short-term memory, which was why finding out exactly what had happened to them was always so difficult. In his case, I wasn’t sure what he was aware of.
“They don’t know where you are,” I said.
Burbank gasped. “I’m a missing person who’s actually dead?”
“That’s the long and short of it,” I told him. “Do you remember anything about what happened?”
He shook his head. “Not much, to be honest. The last thing I remember is that I was gardening. Then I came out to garden again, but my hands couldn’t work. Took me a while to realize why. Disappointing, let me tell you. I’ve been happy working for Mrs. Smith for a long time.”
“She’s a good employer?” I asked.
“She’s the best. A great lady. I’ve worked for her for many years. Is it unusual that I can’t remember how I died?” he asked.
“No. That’s actually how it usually happens. You will not remember. If you did and you could just point me in the direction of your body . . .” I said.
He sucked in a breath. He had apparently not connected the fact that his family didn’t have proof that he had died with the fact that his body was still missing. “I see. They haven’t found me yet.”
“Unfortunately not,” I said.
He nodded his head as if he was accepting that information, then pointed out several more weeds for me to pull. As I worked, he appeared to be mulling over what I had told him, maybe even reaching some conclusions of his own.
“Like I said, the last thing I remember is gardening. The only trouble is, Mrs. Smith has some epic gardens. If I died in one of them, it might be hard to find me.”
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