Ghost Hunter (The Middle-aged Ghost Whisperer Book 2): (Ghost Cozy Mystery series)

by Morgana Best

“I’ll pass it on to Iris and explain what happened.” I was still trying not to laugh. “Just have another drink or five, Constance, and you’ll be fine.”

  Iris found it even funnier than I did once I’d explained the whole situation, though I realized she’d had a lot more of the grapefruit cocktail, as well. The rest of the night went smoothly without any other incidents, and despite the bizarre occurrence, most guests—with the notable exception of Constance—seemed to enjoy themselves thoroughly.

  I waited with Iris after most of the guests had left and had a coffee and a brief chat, then drove myself home once the alcohol had worn off. I hadn’t had much to drink, but thought it was best to play it safe. I arrived home early in the morning and went to bed, where I predictably found two fat cats fast asleep. I sighed and managed to find a slim bit of bed where I could fit without disturbing them and went straight to sleep.

  Chapter 17

  “No, Possum!” I said, looking at the tipped-over trash can with distress. Lily sat by as if to say that she had no part in it, but I knew that couldn’t be true. Why is it that when something goes wrong, it seems to set off a chain reaction? I had just cleaned the entire house, and now I had to clean up trash as well. The cats were well fed, too well fed in fact, so there was no need for them to look in the trash can.

  I poured some lavender oil into my oil burner. I needed the fragrance of lavender to calm me down. I was stressed, and I was worried about Alum. The fact that he hadn’t appeared recently surely meant that he was okay. I had to cling to that hope.

  And then there were my financial worries. Sure, I had savings, but they weren’t going to last forever. In fact, I was sure they weren’t going to last too long at all, once I paid my mortgage and all my other bills.

  Even though I had not planned to go out that day, I had changed out of my pajamas into normal clothes and had put on makeup and perfume.

  It didn’t take me too long to clean up the trash that the cats had spilled all over the floor, but once I did, I was overcome by a sense of sadness. I slumped to the floor and sobbed. I had bottled up my tears for ages and now they just flowed and flowed. The cats just sat there and looked at me. I had just stopped crying, and thought I should get up off the kitchen floor and fetch some tissues, when the cats suddenly stared behind me.

  I swung around, and there was Alum. I was on my feet in seconds. I ran to him to hug him, but passed right through him. It was a weird feeling that I never want to experience again.

  I turned back to him. “Alum, are you okay? You’re not dead, are you?

  “Prudence, what’s happened? Are you all right? You’ve been crying!” Alum stepped toward me.

  I wanted nothing more than to hug him, despite the fact that I knew it wasn’t possible. And unless I was very much mistaken, he appeared to feel the same way.

  “What’s happened, Prudence? Has someone threatened you?”

  I thought I was done crying, but the tears threatened to come again. “I’m just so worried about you, Alum. I hadn’t seen you for a while, so I hoped that meant you were better. I didn’t know what was going on. I’ve been so worried! I’ve been driving to Tamworth and parking outside the Oxley Grove Police Station and I managed to get through to Constable Decker’s spirit,” I said all in one breath. “He didn’t tell me who killed him, but he did give me that word ‘Cyclops’ again and said it does have something to do with you, Alum. Anyway, are you getting better? Is that why I haven’t seen you lately?” I finally stopped speaking.

  Alum nodded. “Yes, I’m getting much better. In fact I don’t know if I’ll be able to appear this way again.”

  “Have you been able to speak with them? Have you been able to write?” I asked urgently.

  “No, but I don’t think it’s far away now. The trouble is that I’ve heard them discuss Constable Decker’s murder, and they seem to think it was someone trying to gain access to me. They actually mentioned bringing in my partner.”

  I gasped and gripped the countertop to support my weight. I thought I would faint. “But, but this means…” I stuttered.

  Alum nodded solemnly.

  Instinctively, I reached for his arm, but again, my hand passed straight through him. “How long before you think you can speak with them?” I asked breathlessly.

  Alum avoided my eyes. “I don’t know, Prudence. It doesn’t look good.”

  “But what can I do to help?”

  Alum appeared to be alarmed by my words. “No! I don’t want you to do anything. You could be in danger. Promise me you’ll keep well away from the whole situation!”

  I dug my nails into the countertop. “No, Alum, I can’t promise anything like that. You’re in danger!”

  Alum met my eyes then. “Yes, exactly. And that is precisely why I want you to stay away. Prudence, promise me you’ll stay away.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t promise that.”

  “Prudence, you must. You must stay away.” He reached out his hand for me, and just as he did, he vanished.

  I was all cried out. I felt sick to my stomach. Alum’s partner was going to be called in, his partner who had shot him and who believed he was dead. His partner would waste no time finishing Alum off. I had to do something. But what?

  Chapter 18

  I knew I had to pull myself together. I had to do something, anything.

  I walked to the bathroom to wash my face. I was startled to see I had long black streaks of mascara running down my face and dark smudges under my eyes. No wonder Alum had a fright when he saw me. Still, now was not the time to be vain.

  It was then that I remembered the sunglasses. I had not tried to use them to contact Decker since the show, because he had only recently come through more strongly. Perhaps now he had come through strongly enough that I would be able to get a reading from his sunglasses.

  I rushed to the car and promptly nearly removed three of my nails on the handle, because the door was locked. I charged back inside to retrieve my keys, and then ran back to the car. I snatched the sunglasses from the car, and then went back inside.

  I sat on the couch and stared fixedly at the sunglasses which I’d placed on the coffee table in front of me. Possum and Lily were at first intrigued by the sunglasses, but as soon as they realized that the item wasn’t edible, they left the room in a huff.

  I wondered what to do. I was half afraid to try, but I had no option. I held the sunglasses tightly and opened myself up to Decker’s energy. If this didn’t work, I would have to drive back to Tamworth and park outside the Oxley Grove Police Station or even Decker’s house. I really didn’t think I could face another drive to Tamworth, but of course I would do it if I had to.

  I knew that my anxious and urgent state was the worst possible energy conducive to trying to contact the spirit, so I tried to calm my breathing, and focus.

  Technically speaking, I should be able to focus on Decker by holding an object that had been close to him just as easily as going to his house or place of work. I gripped the sunglasses so tightly that after a few moments I realized that I was in danger of breaking them.

  “This is no good at all!” I said aloud to myself, but Lily meowed in response. “Okay, so you’re back now, are you?” I said to the two cats. They clearly realized that I was in some sort of emotional state, and had come in to lend their support.

  It would have helped if I could have done a meditation first, but I didn’t have time for that. But then again, did I have time not to? At the very least, I should light a candle and place it on the coffee table in front of me. If I focused on the candle for a few moments, it should calm me enough for me to be open to the spirit.

  I fetched a lemongrass candle and put it in an old silver candlestick on the coffee table and then lighted it. The lemongrass would cleanse the air, spiritually speaking.

  I clutched the sunglasses to my chest again, more gently this time. To my enormous relief, I could already start to feel Constable Decker’s presence. “Adam, where is the safe house?
Where is Alum?”

  I immediately sensed that Alum was not foremost on his mind. “Is there anything you can tell me?”

  Again, I felt Decker’s frustration that he was unable to communicate better. He was trying to push images at me, and I let myself relax and go with the flow.

  Moments later, I half wished I hadn’t. I felt the constable’s shock, betrayal, and pain—yes, physical pain. At least that sensation was only fleeting, but the sensation of betrayal remained.

  I could see him, through his eyes, as if I were him, in what I assumed was the safe house. I saw a vague shape of a woman arriving to speak with him. I experienced his shock that the woman knew where to find him. As hard as I tried to see her, she remained a formless black mist.

  I heard him asking her what she was doing. The next part was hazy, but I could hear her yelling, and then I felt the pain as she drove in the knife.

  I could have stopped the sensations, and always had in the past when I had been in a similar situation, but this time, I had to push on. I needed to discover the location of the safe house as soon as possible, and finding out the identity of Decker’s murderer would lead me to it.

  I strained as hard as I could to see the woman’s face, and then realized that Decker himself was keeping it from me.

  “I need to see who it is,” I pleaded with him, and it was as if a curtain had been opened. The woman took form. It was Christine, his wife.

  “Your wife!” I said with shock.

  With that, the vision vanished abruptly.

  “Your wife?” I said again.

  At this point, Decker was starting to fade again. I could feel his frustration at fading, and my frustration was just as great, if not even greater. I needed to know where the safe house was.

  I could pick up the sensations of guilt, that he felt guilty and responsible for his wife killing him. I had the sensation that he felt he had pushed her over the edge.

  “Where is the safe house?” I asked him. “I need to know where the safe house is! Please!” But it was too late—he was gone.

  Still, all was not lost. Now I knew who had killed him, his wife, Christine. Now I just had to get Christine to tell me where the safe house was, before it was too late.

  Since Constable Decker’s spirit had left, and I knew it would be a while before he would have the energy to return, I blew out the candle.

  The only plan of action open to me was to drive to Christine Decker’s house and ask her where the safe house was.

  But would she try to kill me, too? I didn’t think so. The impressions I had from Decker were that he felt responsible for his wife killing him, and that it was a spur of the moment thing. Then again, perhaps he was just overly protective of his wife even though she had murdered him. If it was just a spur of the moment thing, then why did she have a knife with her?

  At this point, I didn’t care so much about that. I just had to get her to tell me where the safe house was. Of course, there was the danger that she might try to kill me in order to cover her tracks, and I remembered a documentary where a psychiatrist said that when someone has murdered once, it’s easier to murder again.

  But what choice did I have? I could either wait until Constable Decker’s spirit was strong enough to tell me where the safe house was, or I could go and somehow try to make Christine tell me. I didn’t know how much time Alum had before his partner was brought in. I also didn’t know how long it would be before Constable Decker got over the shock of his wife killing him before he would be interested in any other conversation such as the location of the safe house.

  I grabbed my keys and my purse, and I hurried out the door.

  Chapter 19

  It was the slowest trip to Tamworth I had ever had. The road was filled with trucks as well as with ancient farmers apparently on their only venture out in a decade. They crawled along at half the speed limit, and as soon as there was an opportunity for me to pass, they sped up to well over the speed limit.

  My hands gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles went white. I tried to relax, but that simply wasn’t a possibility.

  I was on my way to question Christine Decker about the murder of her husband. I had no idea how I would convince her that I simply wanted to know where the safe house was. I hoped she would believe me if I promised that I wouldn’t go to the police, although that was probably a foolish hope. Nevertheless, it was the only hope I had.

  The truck in front of me swerved violently, and I thought for a moment there had been a tire blowout. Just then, I too had to swerve as a huge kangaroo, clearly the cause of the truck swerving, hopped swiftly across my path. I was shaken—kangaroos usually only come out on roads at dawn and dusk, so I had no idea what this kangaroo was doing. At any rate, I slowed down, in case its friends were following. I was glad that the kangaroo had gotten away unscathed. One of the slow farmers in an ancient pickup then tailgated me, and then attempted to pass despite oncoming traffic. I sighed and resisted making a rude sign as the driver pulled back in behind me, and thankfully, dropped back to his usual half-the-limit speed.

  After what seemed an age, I was down the Moonbi mountains and on my way to Christine’s house. My heart beat faster and faster with every passing minute. My stomach was knotted, and I felt as though I would be physically sick.

  It was with some trepidation that I turned into Christine’s street. To my surprise, there in front of me was a white Toyota parked directly outside her house, and a tall man getting into it. Christine was standing nearby.

  I pulled over to watch the exchange. Luckily for me, the white Toyota drove off in the other direction, while Christine turned back to her garden, bending over her rose bushes. Oh well, it was now or never. I couldn’t sit here all day. I edged the car down the road and came to a stop outside her house.

  Christine looked up with surprise when I got out of the car.

  I cut to the chase. “Who was that man who just left? Have you had him following me?” I saw then, with dismay, that she was armed with a large pair of pruning shears. Instead of responding, she deadheaded some roses before turning back to me.

  I stood my ground, but I prepared to flee. I didn’t think she would stab me in her front garden in full view of any neighbor who happened to be passing by.

  “What on earth are you talking about, Prudence?”

  “Christine, you know I’m a clairvoyant medium. I know you’ve had that man following me. And I want to know who he is, and why you had me followed.”

  She looked like a startled wombat caught in the headlights.

  I thought I might as well let it all out. “I’m a friend of the detective that your husband was guarding at the safe house,” I said. “Alum Mullein. To tell you the complete truth, right now I don’t care one bit that you stabbed your husband, as callous as that might sound. I just need to know where Alum is. If you tell me where the safe house is, I promise I won’t go to the police.”

  She still wasn’t speaking, but she was holding her pruning shears in front of her, albeit not in a threatening manner.

  I pushed on. “The spirit of your husband appeared to me earlier and told me that you’d stabbed him. He doesn’t blame you—he feels responsible for pushing you over the edge.” She gasped at that. “Alum has also been appearing to me, and at first I thought he was a ghost, but then he told me that he was in an induced coma. He’s been slipping in and out of a coma, and he told me that they are thinking of bringing in more police, including his partner. The trouble is, his partner was the one who shot him. Alum says he can’t speak yet or even hold a pen to write, and if they tell his partner where he is, his partner will kill him, for sure. I couldn’t care less about you and your problems—I only care about what happens to Alum.”

  Finally she spoke. “You had better come inside.”

  I eyed the pruning shears warily. She followed my gaze, and laughed. “I’m sure it will be quite safe. I’m not a serial killer.” There was something in her tone that I wasn’t able to judge, but
once again, I had no choice. It was the way my life had been running lately.

  I followed her into the house. I could’ve been walking into a trap, but there was nothing else I could do.

  She shut the door behind me, but to my relief did not lock it. That meant if things went downhill, I could make a run for it. I sized her up. She was about my age and height, but she looked as though she worked out.

  She walked into her kitchen, and I followed her at a safe distance.

  “He said he didn’t hurt you—I’m sorry if he did.”

  I was confused. “Sorry? I’m not sure I follow.”

  “My brother…” she began.

  I cut her off. “Do you mean the tall man? So that was your brother? The one who’s been following me in the white Toyota?”

  She nodded. “I wasn’t sure who you really were when you first came to me. I thought you might be on to me. I told my brother what happened, you know, with Adam, and I told him about you. He thought you might be an undercover cop, so he wanted to snatch your purse and look through it for identification.”

  “I see.” I still wasn’t sure whether she was going to try to kill me or not. I was in a cold sweat, and my palms were clammy. I wiped them on my jeans. I half turned away from her, but she moved in front of me, blocking my view. Just before she did so, I caught sight of luggage sitting in the dining room. So she was going to make a run for it. I didn’t know whether or not that made my position safer.

  “I didn’t mean to kill my husband,” she said. “Before he went to work that day, he told me he was leaving me for that woman, Becca, and so I followed him to reason with him. It was an accident.”

  “But you took a big knife with you.”

  She smiled wryly. “Oh well, there was that.”

  “Well, that’s really none of my business,” I said. “I told you I wouldn’t go to the police about this, and I meant it. You have my word. I just want to know where the safe house is, so I can rescue Alum.”