"Don't be ridiculous." I tried to close the door again.
She stopped me. "I can help you, Rachael, if you let me. I know what's going on."
She peered at me again with those eyes that seemed to see directly into my soul.
I gulped and shook my head. "I don't need your help, thank you."
One little peek through the window couldn't hurt.
I leaned close to the window, cupping my hands around my face to get a better look. Suddenly, a figure started lunging towards me and I screamed. Pulling back, my breathing returned to something resembling normal when I saw it was the antique store's owner, Gus.
Gus was in his late fifties and always seemed a little gruff, his clothes were always as dusty as the antiques he kept in his shop. I'd seen less and less of him over the last few months as he'd been ill and mostly leaving the shop in the hands of his family. To tell the truth, I was glad I hadn't had much interaction with him, given that I was in the process of buying his store—effectively pushing him out of business.
"Gus!" I said, plastering a smile on my face as he opened the door for me. This was a little awkward. Even though my intended purchase of his store was nothing personal, he probably still resented me for the fact that I would be its new owner.
"Hello, Rachael." We'd always been on friendly terms since I'd opened the bakery three years earlier and I was relieved to find that he didn't seem, on the surface at least, to harbor any ill will towards me.
"Is everything okay?" I asked him. Stupid question. Of course it wasn't. Not only was the poor guy about to sell the business he had put his blood, sweat and tears into, there was now the problem of the shop being...well, literally filled with blood, sweat, and tears.
"Besides the fact that a man was murdered in my shop..." Gus started, and I braced myself. His forehead creased into a deep frown. "There was a break-in a few days ago."
I froze.
"A break-in?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Some stuff was moved around. And they were stupid enough to leave a flashlight in here."
Yes, they were.
"Oh no," I said, pretending to be outraged. "That's terrible, Gus. Do you know who it was?"
Gus shook his head. "No. And strange as it is, it seems like they didn't take anything. But it makes you wonder, doesn't it?"
"It does."
"Whoever it was that killed that poor guy, they might have come back to clean up after themselves."
"Well, if they left a flashlight behind, they mustn't have done a very good job of cleaning up!" I let out a forced high-pitched laugh that was far too loud.
He gave me a suspicious look. "You didn't happen to see anything that night, did you?"
I shook my head quickly. "No, I was home in bed early that night."
He narrowed his eyes. "I didn't tell you exactly what night it was yet."
I gulped and checked the time on my phone. "Shoot, Gus, I really gotta go. We're down a baker at the store and I've been doing double duty." That wasn't exactly true. If anyone had been pulling double duty, it was Pippa. But I had to get out of there.
But I stopped just as I reached the door. I could hear the rush of customers on the other side and even through the cracks, I could smell cinnamon and vanilla wafting out. And there was Gus next to me, dutifully, sadly, clearing out the remains of a dying shop—a shop that was a crime scene no less. I wondered if hearing my own full shop next to him was just like the final twist of the knife in his guts.
I snuck in and grabbed a Danish pastry without anyone noticing me. Pippa was running around and wouldn't have noticed if the president walked in at that moment. I couldn't do much to help Gus, but I could do one thing: offer him pastry.
I tiptoed back to Gus's shop, hoping to surprise him, but I stopped short at the door when I saw what Gus was doing. I made sure no one was looking before I pressed my face closer to the glass. He was tampering with the painting of the twins. I looked closer. It looked like he was pulling wire off the top of the frame.
Wire that could have easily been used to move the painting from side-to-side. Wire that could have been used to scare off trespassers.
Gus suddenly looked up at me, locking eyes on me like I was a target. I dropped the Danish pastry and backed away from the window, but he was already storming towards the door.
"What are you doing?" he growled. Then, with a small satisfied scoff, “Snooping around again, I see."
"Again?"
"I know it was you and your friend here the other night."
I steadied my breathing. "Oh yeah? How could you know that unless you were here as well?" I raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to come up with a good answer for that.
His lips moved silently for a moment. I'd got him. It must have been him in the shop that night, moving the painting around and trying to scare us off.
But why?
When he didn't answer, I backed away and left the pastry lying there on the ground, waiting for the stray cats to come and get it after dark.
"Pippa," I said, grabbing her as I ran into the bakery. "I've got to tell you something! It's urgent. I've had a major breakthrough in the case."
She opened her mouth in disbelief.
"Rachael, we’re slammed right now, can't you see that?" She pointed to the long line of customers snaking out the door. "You could lend a hand if you wanted," she said, a little too pointedly.
I nodded. "Sorry," I said, grabbing an apron. As we rushed to serve customers, I managed to whisper a few details to her, but it wasn't until we closed that I was finally able to tell her the information that was about to burst out of me.
"Pippa," I said, taking my apron off. "Listen to this." I waited until I had her full attention. "I think Gus is the one who killed that person in the antiques shop!"
Pippa frowned as she placed a tray of brownies back in the fridge. The sweet smell made my tummy rumble and I stopped the door before it shut, grabbing one and taking a bite of the heavenly brownie. "Boy, I was starving. Especially after the day I've had."
"Me too," Pippa said. "I didn't get a chance to take a lunch break." Again, her tone was rather pointed.
"Are you mad at me Pippa?"
"I just think..." She slammed the door of the fridge shut. "That you've been spending so much time on this investigation that you're neglecting your duties here. And I'm the one whose been left to pick up all the slack."
I placed my brownie on the counter. "You're the one who keeps telling me that there is a mystery to solve, Pippa."
"No. I keep telling you to stay out of it."
"So that's what all this is about? You're so scared of all this silly superstition that you want me to drop it? What are you so worried is going to happen to you, Pippa?"
"Rach," she whispered, "I'm worried that something really bad is going to happen to you."
She didn't sound so worried about me right then. Sounded like she was more worried about being overworked. But I didn't want to say that. "Pippa, I really appreciate you helping me out. You know that, don't you?" We were getting well off track now. This was not how I'd imagined the conversation going in my head.
She nodded. "And I appreciate that you gave me this opportunity, Rach. I feel so bad about what happened with Romeo and I want to make it up to you. Sorry if I complained about feeling overworked."
"No, I'm sorry, Pips. How about I let you have tomorrow off and I cover both shifts?"
"But we still haven't gotten anyone to replace Romeo."
"Don't worry about it, I'll be fine. You take the day off and hang out with your friends from the paranormal society, if you like." I thought about telling Pippa about my run-in with Tegan earlier, but something about the whole interaction had creeped me out. I didn't really want her coming back to the house, but I figured bringing it up at all would only cause another potential argument.
I suggested we take a break. A proper one. "You need to eat, Pips. Anything you want is on the house."
"Ok
ay, so tell me your theory about Gus then." Pippa had chosen to have a donut and a chocolate shake for her 'dinner,' which was fine by me. Though I couldn't help but think that it wouldn't hurt us to eat some vegetables one of these days. "Why do you think he did it?"
"Well, think about it, Pippa. He is the one with the most to lose out of the whole sale of the antiques store, isn't he?"
Pippa nodded and took a sip of her shake. "That's true."
I leaned in closer. "So what if he made up all these stories about the painting to try and scare off potential buyers. What if he even killed to keep potential buyers away?"
"I dunno, Rach. I don't think Gus was the originator of that story about the painting. That story has been around for years, and why would he make that up about his own shop while he was still trying to make money from it? Presumably, he wanted to sell that painting at some stage. The rumors would have done nothing to help him."
I was silent for a moment. Pippa was right. It was unlikely that Gus had invented the story. "There's still something that isn't right, Pippa. You should have seen the way he was acting before."
"Well, this must be a tough time for him."
Again, true.
"This isn't Scooby Doo, Rachael. Gus isn't pretending to be a ghost to try and drive potential buyers away. He's a middle-aged man. I'm sure he has a little more dignity than that. And I'm sure he could have come up with a better plan."
"Then what was he doing fooling around with that painting earlier? It definitely had some kind of wires hanging off of it. I didn't see enough before he caught me, but it looked like he was trying to remove them."
Pippa gave me a slow look. "Do we need to go back in there? Check it out? Maybe tonight after dark."
I picked up my latte and took a sip to buy me a little time. I knew, logically, that I wasn't cursed. I also knew, logically, that the antiques shop wasn't haunted. And I knew, more than likely, that it had been Gus screwing around with the painting that night.
So why was I still scared to go in there after dark? "I dunno, Pippa," I said when I finally gave an answer. "Gus already thinks we were snooping around the other night. If we get caught red-handed, it's not going to look good."
Pippa narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure that's all it is, Rachael? You're looking a little pale there."
"Just need to get some fruit and vegtables into my diet," I said quickly. "Still can't quite kick that flu from last week. I can't survive on brownies indefinitely by the looks of it. I just think we ought to back off sneaking around the antiques shop for a day or two."
Pippa shrugged and picked up her garbage to throw in the trash. I sat there for a moment trying to collect my thoughts while Pippa cleaned up. Once she'd taken the trash out back, I sighed and stood up to lock the front door. The sun had long disappeared from the sky and the street looked particularly eerie that night. I looked over my shoulder. I couldn't wait for Pippa to come back inside. Quickly, I grabbed my keys and locked the front door, pulling on it three times to make sure it was locked properly.
That's when I froze. There, standing on the other side of the street, staring straight through the window and into my soul, was Tegan.
Chapter 6
My cold seemed to be getting worse. I woke up with eyes so puffy that I could hardly see out of them and an awful pain in my gut.
"Rach, you look freaking terrible."
"Thanks," I said, pouring hot water over a peppermint tea bag. The smell was immediately soothing, even though I winced when I took a sip. The flavor always reminded me of being sick, as it’s what my mom always used to give us kids when we had a flu or an upset stomach.
"I'm serious. You have to stay home." Pippa began to pull on her jacket, but I told her to take it off.
"It's okay, Pippa. I promised you the day off and I am going to stick to my promise. I'll be fine once I get there and the adrenaline sets in." I was actually hoping I'd be so rushed off my feet that I wouldn't have time to think about how rotten I felt.
Pippa pulled a face of semi-horror as she stared up at me. "Rach, you really don't look well enough to go to work. I'm worried about you."
"I'll be fine," I tried to reassure her, cringing at the crackling in my voice. "It's just like I said: I need some more fresh fruit and veggies in my diet. I promise I won't snack on cakes and cookies all day."
But when I got to the bakery, those were about the only things I could stomach. As I forced a slice of brownie down, hoping to get my sugar hit to kick me into gear, I felt even worse.
What’s happening to me? Doubled over, I clutched my stomach, wondering if I should go back on my word and ask Pippa to come in to cover me.
But then the morning rush began and I was right. I didn't even have time to think, let alone focus on my puffy face and labored breathing. And I managed to get through the day without throwing up.
But there was a downside to running around all day with no backup. I hadn't been able to clean as I went, and I was left standing in the middle of what looked like the wreckage of a tornado at the end of the day.
I grabbed a broom and mop and got to work. Now that I had time to think, all I could focus on was the aching in my limbs and the pulsing in my head.
The bakery's phone began to ring in a shrill pitch, cutting right into my headache. I limped over to it and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Rach, it's me. You weren't picking up your cell."
"Battery's dead. Didn't have time to charge it. What's up, Pippa?"
"Are you going to be home soon?"
I glanced at the mess and chaos surrounding me. "Not for a few hours."
There was heaving breathing on the other end of the line. When she didn't reply, I asked if she was okay.
"I just don't like being all alone in the house after dark."
I glanced out the window. The days were getting shorter and shorter. 5:00 P.M. and the streets were completely dark. "I'll be home as soon as I can. You'll be fine though, Pippa. What do you think is going to happen to you?"
"Please, Rach, I'm really frightened."
"I've got a mountain of a mess to clean up. If I leave it like this, there'll be ants by morning, maybe even rats if we're really unlucky." I was growing a little impatient with Pippa. "You're stressing about nothing. I'll be home in an hour or two, I promise."
I heard her gulp on the other end of the line. "You're right," she whispered. "I'm probably just being silly. I have to go!" she added suddenly before slamming down the receiver. I cringed, the sound doing nothing for my headache. Thanks, Pippa.
"Okay," I said out loud to myself as I swept the last of the mess into the trash hours later. "It might be fun to be busy occasionally, but I really need to find some more staff. Today was just ridiculous."
I let myself out the back and locked the door, barely even aware of what I was doing as I stumbled towards my car.
Suddenly a body stepped in front of me.
I screamed. Boy, I really was jumpy these days.
"Sorry, it's only me," a gruff male voice called out. I could see him holding his hands up in the dark. "I came back to collect my final check."
I thought Romeo had some nerve coming back to collect money, but at the same time, I didn't begrudge him the money that he had actually earned.
I nodded and sighed. "Come on in, I just need to unlock the door again."
He followed me back into the bakery and to my office where his check lay on my desk.
I paused just as I was about to hand the check over. "So are you going to tell me why you stormed out that day? You kind of left us in the lurch here. I'm asking because I am genuinely worried that we did something to upset you, Romeo."
He grabbed the check out of my hand and stared at the tiles. "I just wasn't happy here," he said, before glancing up at me with guilty-looking eyes. "Sorry that I left like that, though. I do appreciate you taking the chance with hiring me."
I sighed. "Something must have really upset you that day. Was it just because I
was late getting back with your coffee? I know the early hours can be a drag..."
Romeo let out a little laugh and shook his head. "It wasn't that, Rachael." He started to walk back out.
"Just tell me then," I called out. "Look, we're really overlaoded here lately. If you want your job back, I'm willing to give you another chance."
He spun back around. "After what I did?"
I sighed. "I know. I'm not a total pushover, just let me make that clear. But I do believe in second chances. Plus, we're kind of desperate," I had to admit.
He stared at me for a long while before finally shaking his head. "Sorry, Rachael. It's nothing personal, but I can't work here."
"Why not?" I asked, chasing him as he left out the back via the kitchen. We were out in the dark alley before he finally answered.
"Why don't you ask, Pippa."
Then he spun around and disappeared into the dark night.
Ask Pippa? What did Pippa do to make him leave?
I threw my head back in a silent scream. I had a pretty good idea. She could frighten anyone away.
Maybe it wasn't Gus who was making up the ghost stories to drive people away. Maybe the real culprit had been living in my home the entire time.
"Pippa!" I called out as I stormed into the apartment. I threw my coat onto the hall table and stepped over the broken glass shards that were still lying in the hall, even though I could have sworn we'd cleaned all of them up. "I need to talk to you!"
But Pippa wasn't in her usual spot on the sofa. "Pippa?"
I found her shivering on top of my bed with only a lamp on beside her. "What's happened, Pippa? Have you caught my flu?" She was holding the blanket up to her face, and she was white and pale and clammy when I felt her forehead.
"Rachael...I...I..." Her teeth were chattering too hard for her to be able to speak properly.
Shoot. Something was really wrong with her. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" I wrapped the blanket around her tighter, hoping that would stop the shivering.
She shook her head. "I'm not sick, Rachael."
I sat down beside her, understanding now. "Pippa, what's frightened you so much?" I felt a stab of guilt over the fact I hadn't come home as soon as she'd called me. "Sorry, Pips. I should have left the mess to clean up in the morning."
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