The Walk That Haunts Me

by Rose Pressey

  THE WALK THAT HAUNTS ME

  A Haunted Tour Guide Mystery

  By Rose Pressey

  Ripley Van Raden can’t decide which she fears the most the dead or the living. She encounters the spirit world on a daily basis as librarian of a ghost-filled library and tour guide for the spooky town of Devil’s Moon, Kentucky. Ripley is in charge of judging the best tasting pie at the town’s first annual pie contest. However, Ripley has graver concerns than a crumbly crust when a woman is found murdered. Now the amateur sleuth has to find out why a trio of ghosts and the killer are coming for her. This recipe for murder isn’t as easy as pie.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form, (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents, places, and brands are the product of the author’s imagination and not to be construed as real. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Index

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 1

  The dark cloud that had hovered over Devil’s Moon since I’d come back to town seemed to have dissipated. Of course, we still had a portal to another world in the reference section of the library, but so far, it seemed as if our cleansing ritual was keeping the ghosts from popping through. The demonologist I’d consulted to help with the paranormal passageway said the entrance would always be there. However, being vigilant would keep it closed.

  When I’d accepted the position as head librarian of Bilson library I thought it would be perfect for me. I’d be surrounded by books all day and I’d have my own office with my name, Ripley Van Raden, written on the door.

  I loved working at the library, but I’d received much more than just an office. I’d gotten a haunted building that wasn’t immune to chaotic events. We’d been through more assistants that I cared to count and the mysteries surrounding the library rivaled the amount found in the mystery section.

  Things at the library had been just peachy. Literally. I was the judge of a pie contest at the first annual book-and-bake sale. It hadn’t taken much to persuade me to take part. Who doesn’t love pie and books? My best friend Tammy White worked at the library with me and the contest had been her idea. We’d had book sales before, but we’d never added baked goods to the event. I mean, delicious food and books? It didn’t get much better that that.

  Since technically spring hadn’t officially arrived I worried that the weather wouldn’t work out in our favor. April had just popped up on the calendar. However, with bright sun and a clear blue sky, the day was just perfect for the event.

  We’d set up tables with all the books available for sale outside on the front lawn. Well, on the left side of the front lawn. The other side was permanently occupied. An old graveyard was at the front of the library with old tombstones in varying shades of gray. During the day the area seemed somewhat tranquil, but when the moon rose, the graveyard took on an entirely different feel.

  The graves had been there before the library had been built in 1853. Even the library’s first librarian was buried there, although at the moment she was standing right beside me wearing a beautiful ivory-colored dress. Her gray hair was in a French twist with curls hanging by the sides of her round face.

  Such a glorious day, Annie Gibson said via text message on my smartphone. And the baked goods look divine.

  Yes, it was a lovely day and the baked goods had my mouth watering. Annie was still hanging out at Bilson Library. I knew that sounded crazy, but Annie was a ghost. And she had made herself visible to me very early on in my return to Devil’s Moon, Kentucky. My hometown was, in my opinion, one of the most haunted places anywhere. There were ghosts around every corner. They didn’t always let themselves be seen, but they were there. I knew because not only was I the librarian of the beautiful building behind me, I had my own haunted tour service right in town.

  I led people around town, showing them haunted locations and recounting stories that had taken place in the buildings. On occasion we even witnessed paranormal activity right there on the tour. So I supposed people would say that I attracted the paranormal. I didn’t know if that was true, but it sure seemed like it.

  Annie communicated with me through electronics, usually with cell phone text messages, sometimes with voicemails. The first time I’d heard her voice I was shocked. She couldn’t leave voice messages often because her words came out just in spurts or unfinished sentences instead of a full-on conversation. Nevertheless, she did it on occasion. She enjoyed text messages or emails the most. Annie had been known to post to the library’s Twitter account too.

  Word was getting out that the library was one of the most haunted places around. I was pretty sure I couldn’t argue with that. Even the new head of the library board was getting in on the action, which was a total contrast to the last head of the library board. Mrs. Agnew was a bad person and no longer at the library.

  Kim Hughes, the new head of the library board, was super nice. She’d even baked me chocolate-chip cookies. That kind act had left me speechless for a bit. She was a stark contrast to the last head of the library board. Kim was almost too nice. Was that possible? No, I supposed not, but she just seemed as if maybe she was trying to be super nice to cover up for something. I guessed after the last board member I was a bit apprehensive and that was probably skewing my perception of Kim.

  Nevertheless, she was extremely open-minded with paranormal stuff. She’d had all kinds of questions about it and even suggested that we add cameras to the library so that people could check in on the haunted building and possibly spot a little paranormal activity on their own. She thought it would be a great way to get people interested in the library. Maybe they’d come in and find a love for books that they’d never known they had. I was all for that, so I supposed it couldn’t hurt to add cameras around.

  My boyfriend Brannon Landon was all for the idea too. He would love to be able to check in and find a ghost in the act. After all, that was his passion. Ghost-hunting was how he spent his free time—other than hanging out with me, of course. We went on investigations together all the time. Plus, Brannon loved to make gadgets that helped in the investigations. Whether it was something that would capture a spirit or just something that would allow him to better communicate with spirits, he always had some new idea.

  I would enjoy checking in on Annie and Jane Austen as well. It would make me feel better when I was away from the library knowing that I could look in anytime I wanted. I’d know exactly what those two were up to when I wasn’t around. Tammy said she didn’t care one way or the other about the cameras, but I knew she secretly would rather not have the paranormal actually around.

  Judging of the pie contest started in thirty minutes. I had been waiting all day for this moment. I’d even skipped lunch for this. Quite a crowd had gathered, waiting for the pie contes
t. Plus, people were purchasing books, which was great because it helped the library. Not to mention after the contest there would be pies for everyone to purchase. The proceeds would go to the library as well.

  I was so happy that people from the community had pitched in for this event. And what would I have done without all the help from Tammy? She had her hands full, yet she still managed to find time to help with this project. How would I repay her for that? She worked nights at the old tavern and then as a hairstylist part time as well. I had no idea how she did it all. My hands were full as librarian and with the haunted tours. I’d also recently taken on the side project of restoring an old Victorian home that I’d purchased. It used to be a funeral home and was totally haunted. But more about that later.

  All kinds of pie flavors had been entered into the contest, blueberry, peach, cherry, pecan, and even chocolate to name a few. I wasn’t sure how I would pick out the best one. This was like deliciousness overload.

  One of the members of the book club that met once a month at the library made eye contact with me. She headed over toward me, carrying a pie in her hands. She’d only been a member of the book club for about two months, so I didn’t know her as well as I did the other ladies in the club, but Alexandria Emerson seemed like a nice person, even if she was a bit pushy at times. I wasn’t sure if she realized she was even doing it, so I tried to overlook that minor detail. Her blonde hair, which was normally sleek and cut into a bob style, seemed as if she hadn’t run a brush through it this morning. Perhaps she had been up all night working on her pie recipe.

  My phone alerted me to another text. Looks like there might be a problem.

  Annie had picked up on Alexandria’s mood too. I certainly hoped there wasn’t an issue. Everything had gone so well until this point. Her pie looked fine, so I wasn’t sure what could possibly be wrong.

  “Good afternoon, Alexandria,” I said with a smile, hoping to turn her mood around. “Are you submitting your pie?”

  She dumped the pie dish onto the table in front of us. Bits of the crust fell over the edge of the dish, crumbling onto the red and white checked tablecloth.

  “Someone messed with my pie.” She pointed at the sad-looking dessert.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  The pie looked fine except for the flaky crust that was now missing along the edge. Alexandria looked all around as if someone might be listening to our conversation; but most everyone was talking in groups and waiting around for the main event. Tammy was collecting money for the books. The only one listening was Annie right beside me.

  “I don’t believe this is my pie,” she said, pointing down.

  I had no idea exactly what she meant.

  “Why do you think it’s not your pie?” I asked.

  “It looks different from when I first pulled it out of the oven.” She narrowed her deep brown eyes.

  “How so?” I asked.

  This is bizarre. Another text message came through on my phone.

  I glanced in Annie’s direction, but of course I couldn’t answer. People had no idea about my interactions with the ghostly librarian.

  “It’s too brown on top and I didn’t make the crust that way.” She gestured. “I would never make a crust that fell apart like that.”

  “Are you positive?” I asked with a frown.

  As Annie had pointed out, this really was bizarre.

  “I’m absolutely sure. I think someone switched the pie,” she said.

  Even if someone had swapped her pie, there was really nothing I could do about it other than tell her that if she didn’t want to enter the pie that was perfectly fine.

  “Who would do something like that?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, but I want to get to the bottom of it.” Anger dripped from her words.

  “Did you make this at your home?” I pointed.

  She scoffed. “Well, yes.”

  “Then that kind of narrows it down as to who could’ve done this. Who was at your house?”

  “No one,” she said.

  Now I really was confused. Maybe she was losing it.

  “Would you still like to enter the contest?” I asked, unsure of what to say next.

  “I don’t know what to do. But if I find out who did that”—she slammed her fist on the table—“then I’m going to kill them.”

  Wow, that was a strong statement over a cherry pie. Alexandria narrowed her eyes at me and sent a cold chill up my spine. Would she still feel this way if she won the contest? Not that I would pick her pie on purpose, but I was curious if that would change things.

  “I’ll just move your pie over here with the others,” I said. “I’ll put your card in front so that everyone knows it’s yours.”

  “Oh, that’s even more insulting.” She glared at me for a few more seconds. “I suppose I have no choice but to go ahead and enter the contest, but I’m sure I won’t win now.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say about that, so I said nothing. I picked up the pie, moved it over to the others and placed her card in front of the dish. Tammy walked over just as Alexandria stormed away. Today Tammy wore a blue and white floral print A-line skirt with a short-sleeved white blouse. Since Tammy also worked at a salon in town she changed her hair color often. Currently she had opted for her chin length bob to be caramel-colored with light blonde highlights. I hadn’t seen her natural hair color since ninth grade. Was it brown or auburn? I couldn’t even remember.

  “That was weird. Is everything all right?” Tammy tucked a stand of hair behind her ear.

  “She thinks someone messed with her pie. I wasn’t sure what to say, but she entered the pie anyway,” I said.

  “That is perplexing,” Tammy said.

  “To say the least.” I brushed the crumbs from the tablecloth.

  “I guess it’s about time to start the contest, huh?” Tammy asked as she looked at the gold watch her mother had given her for Christmas last year.

  “Yes, but to be honest, I’m a little nervous.” I clapped my hands. “Excuse me, can I have everyone’s attention?”

  People had started to gather closer now. Their smiling faces eagerly awaiting the outcome.

  “It’s time for our first annual pie contest to start.” I waved toward the big white banner above the library doors.

  Everyone clapped and cheered. I filled them in on the details of how everything would go. I picked up a plastic fork, plate, and a napkin—the essentials for pie tasting. Tammy cut a slice of the first pie and placed it on my red and white checked paper plate. A local shop in town had donated the matching tablecloth and plates.

  Of course, I couldn’t eat the whole big slice—just one bite would be enough. I had a lot of pies to go through. Eating the whole thing would make me sick before I got to the second pie.

  Lucy Marcus had entered her pecan pie. It looked scrumptious. Pecans, brown sugar, and vanilla were all some my favorites. Okay, I had to be honest. They were all my favorites. I sank my fork into the delicious pie and took a bite. Oh, my gosh. It was delightful. Did I detect a hint of orange zest? Could I stop there and say Lucy Marcus was the winner? No, I suppose the other contestants would frown upon that. Now I had to taste the rest. How could they beat this pecan pie? It was the best thing I’d ever tasted.

  I tried to remain neutral so that I wouldn’t give myself away. No signs of how I was wishing to take another huge bite. Everyone gathered around waiting for my response, especially Lucy Marcus. She stared at me with her big blue eyes.

  “It’s fabulous,” I said.

  Lucy Marcus giggled with glee. I hadn’t actually seen her make the noise, but I knew it was her voice because she came to all the book club meetings. She was constantly giggling.

  “Okay, time to move on to the next pie.” Tammy motioned.

  Right, time for the next pie. Though how could that one be topped? I took a drink of water and then picked up another fork for my next sampling. I felt someone’s stare on me as I moved one step to the l
eft and stood in front of the next pie.

  Mrs. Mae was actually standing right beside the table, waiting for me to dip my fork into the blueberry pie. She crossed her arms in front of her as she scrutinized me.

  “Oh, I just know I’m gonna win,” she said. “I spent so much time revising this recipe. There’s no way I can’t win.”

  Lucy Marcus scoffed and a couple other people around laughed.

  “Go ahead and laugh, but you are just jealous because you know I’m going to win. I always win,” Mrs. Mae said with her head held high.

  Well, now the pressure was even worse because Mrs. Mae would be mad at me if I didn’t allow her to win. If her pie really was the best then everyone would think that I’d just done it to make her happy. I was seriously rethinking being the judge of this pie contest. I wondered if I could get someone else to volunteer for judging the second annual contest. As Mrs. Mae glared at me, I dipped my fork into the blueberry pie and put the piece in my mouth.

  Juicy blueberry filling oozed from the sides of the sliced crust. This pie was scrumptious, but there was something lacking. I hoped that my disappointment in this pie didn’t show through. Mrs. Mae would be unhappy immediately. I needed to at least keep her happy until after the contest. I hoped no one was mad at me for too long over this.

  Next up was a pie I’d been waiting to taste since I saw it on the table. The lemon meringue. Oh, I just knew it was going to be delicious. After the lemon meringue was Alexandria Emerson’s cherry offering. The one she claimed wasn’t hers. Did I really want to taste it? Did I have a choice?