“A few years. Separated a lot longer than that, but as I said … nasty divorce. By the time the judge signed the papers, their son was eighteen and that part of the custody battle went away. It was a mess.”
“Sounds like it.” I shook my head.
“She stayed in town. Something about not wanting to make their daughter change schools when she was so close to graduation.”
“Understandable.”
“Yeah but it drove Dr. Barnes crazy.”
“Why? You’d think he would be happy to be close to his kids.”
“Oh, that part was probably fine. But Ruthie went a little … overboard, shall we say, in flaunting her new divorcee status. She walked away with half his money, his prized sports car, and their second home in Aruba. She started dating younger men and wasn’t shy about it.” Gwen leaned in conspiratorially. “And then she got pregnant!”
My eyebrows spiked. “Oh?”
“Mmhmm. It was a huge scandal. Everyone was talking about it, mostly because she was forty-three and the father was twenty-two!”
“How did she die?”
“Car accident. She was on her way home from a long weekend away and swerved off the road. Luckily she hadn’t picked up her baby from the sitter yet or he’d have been in the car too.” Gwen shuddered at the thought.
“How awful.” I cocked my head. “Any reason why she’d be haunting her ex? It sounds as though she’d moved on with her life, as brief as it may have been post-divorce. Why would she go back to him in death?”
Gwen shrugged. “I have no idea. Guess you’ll find out. But a word of warning, Scarlet: she wasn’t exactly what you’d call stable in life and if I had to guess, I’d imagine that’s only gotten worse in death.”
“Well that’s a relief. It would be a real shame if I had to start dealing with sane ghosts. I’d have to start watching TV for entertainment or something.”
Chapter 4
“All right, so what’s the plan here?” Lucas asked as we idled outside the address printed on Dr. Barnes’s check. Somehow he’d managed to sweet talk his way into accompanying me. I accused him of using his charm for nefarious purposes, which only made him laugh.
I glanced up at the massive house. Regardless of what the former Mrs. Barnes had walked away with in the divorce settlement, it was clear that the good doctor was still doing well for himself. The craftsman stunner was built atop a hillside that allowed a panoramic ocean view. We’d passed the nearest neighboring house on the way up the steep hill and I figured it was at least half a mile away, affording Dr. Barnes’s residence tranquility among the trees. Then I remembered what he’d said about nearly being driven off the road and a pit formed in my stomach. If Mrs. Barnes’s ghost was really behind the near-accident, she was one peeved spirit.
Yay. My favorite kind.
“We’ll talk to Dr. Barnes and get a more detailed account of what’s been going on,” I shifted my glance away from the house to look at Lucas. Not for the first time, I wished we were anywhere but on a wild-ghost chase. There were plenty of other ways I would rather be spending the evening. “Most likely there is a time of day, or specific room of the house that he feels the presence of the ghost. We’ll find her, see what she wants, and try to negotiate her departure.”
Lucas cocked his head. “Easy enough, right?”
I laughed. “I would say it can’t be harder than the fiasco with Rosie, but I don’t want to jinx us.”
Lucas had been my irritation-turned-partner in my last ghost caper. Sometimes, in reflection, I hardly believed that I’d been crazy enough to tell him about my strange ability in the first place. He’d been open to it and almost a little eager to learn the truth. In his time as head of security with Mints on the Pillows, he’d seen some strange things, so apparently my odd life wasn’t too hard for him to swallow. Which either made him perfect for me, or bonkers. Maybe both?
“Good call.” Lucas peered out his window. “Ready?”
I heaved a sigh. “As I’ll ever be.”
He chuckled and flung open his door.
Dr. Barnes welcomed us in—after checking his watch to confirm that I was on time. We stood in the foyer of the house and he gave Lucas a quick once-over.
“Dr. Barnes, this is Lucas Greene. He’s my—” I stopped myself, realizing with a flurry of panic that I had no idea what he was. Assistant? Muscle? Hired help?
Or … more terrifying … boyfriend?
Lucas smiled and extended a hand to the doctor. “I’m Scarlet’s friend. I like to have her back when she goes on house calls. Make sure everything’s on the up and up.”
Dr. Barnes shook Lucas’s hand and offered a tight-lipped smile. “Great.”
Lucas’s quick save should have filled me with relief. It lifted the burden of labelling our status, but instead of being happy about it, a pang of disappointment bit into me. I dismissed it and forced a smile. There wasn’t time to sit around dissecting my emotions or worrying about what the sharp stab in my chest might mean.
“Didn’t you bring anything?” Dr. Barnes asked, returning his attention to me.
“Like what?”
“A kit of some kind? Instruments? Sage? How do you plan on getting rid of her?” He was clearly a man on a mission.
I held up a hand. “Dr. Barnes, please, as we discussed yesterday, we’re doing this my way, okay? Now, where do you feel Mrs. Barnes’s presence the most strongly?”
“Ms. Jasson,” he corrected in an icy tone. “She kept the beach house but she didn’t keep my last name. I saw to that.”
Oy.
“Okay, right. Let’s stick with Ruth. Where do you normally feel her? Have you ever audibly heard her?”
Dr. Barnes relaxed slightly and waved his hand toward the staircase to the right of the front door. “This way.”
Lucas followed me as we ascended two flights of stairs to the third level of the house. We went down a hallway that ended with a set of double doors. Dr. Barnes opened them and we entered into what appeared to be his man cave though it was probably three times the size of most studio apartments. The walls were painted a dark forest green and shadowboxed frames, each containing a signed jersey from some sporting team, were hung precisely six inches apart on one entire wall. I never paid much attention to sports, but the collection must have been impressive, as Lucas let out a low whistle.
I rolled my eyes and then turned to take in the rest of the room. A sprawling wet bar complete with a full-size fridge, sink, and three different brews on tap. Three long leather couches formed a u-shape in the middle of the room, opposite a TV that had to be bigger than the one down at the local movie theater. A popcorn machine sat at an angle in the corner beside a few arcade games and a pool table with custom felt that displayed the same logo as the jerseys.
“This is where you feel Ruth?” I asked, wondering if we’d taken a wrong turn. In a house this size, maybe that was something that happened? Or, maybe he’d just wanted to show off his collection.
Dr. Barnes pocketed his hands. “The TV goes on the fritz every time I have the guys over. The arcade machines too. And don’t get me started on the popcorn machine.”
Lucas raised his eyebrows as we exchanged a quick glance.
“What happened with the popcorn machine?” I asked.
I couldn’t help it. It was too odd not to.
“I haven’t used it for six months. The last time I turned it on, the thing kept popping and popping. By the time I managed to shut it off, there was three inches of popcorn all over the floor!”
I blinked hard, wondering if I’d heard him right. “How—I mean, that doesn’t even seem possible. Where would all of the kernels have come from?”
Dr. Barnes narrowed his eyes. “I paid you $500 to figure it out. She’s here. Somewhere. Some way.”
I shook my head. “Well, for the moment, she’s not. There aren’t any ghosts in here.”
Dr. Barnes threw his hands into the air. “Search the whole house. I don’t care what
it takes.”
He stormed from the room before I could fire off any further questions. When the sound of his angry footsteps faded, I slowly pivoted on the heel of my sneakers to look at Lucas. Of course, he was busy getting up close and personal with every encased jersey that hung on the wall. He turned to glance at me, his face like a little boy on Christmas, and jabbed his thumb at the glass before him. “Scarlet, do you see this?”
“I do, but I gotta be honest—it doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t even know what I’m looking at. Football? Basketball?”
Lucas’s jaw dropped again. A series of sputters came out but he was apparently too appalled to find actual words.
“Okay, I get that this is like man heaven, but we have a ghost to find, all right?”
He followed, begrudgingly, as I began the search. After a quick sweep of the third floor, we moved to the second. Dr. Barnes had retreated to a lavish study and all I dared was a quick peek inside before moving to the next room. Finally, I spotted her down in the kitchen.
Ruthie Jasson, formerly Barnes, stood in the kitchen, elbows propped on a granite-covered island that was longer than my delivery van, staring wistfully out the picture windows that lined the opposite wall. She didn’t tear her gaze away even as I said her name.
“Ruthie? Is that your name?”
She sighed. “Will always complained about my cooking, but I’m telling you, I made some truly beautiful meals right here in this kitchen, all while watching my babies play in the backyard.”
I looked over my shoulder and gave Lucas a nod.
His eyes went wide as they swept the room. He couldn’t see or hear Ruthie but that didn’t stop his natural curiosity from trying.
“Ruthie, do you know why I’m here?” I asked, moving a little closer to the woman.
She was classically beautiful: a heart shaped face with high cheekbones, full lips, and large eyes. Though she shimmered slightly when she moved and was reduced to a monochromatic silvery-purple, it was clear that her final outfit—a form-fitted dress that showcased hours of work in the gym and a strict diet—had been pricey. Her long hair was pulled back in a sleek chignon at the base of her neck and held in place with a shiny clip of some kind. Personally, I’d never mastered much beyond a ponytail or topknot in the hair-design department. I could arrange a dozen roses into an artful bouquet but when it came to my hair, I was a lost cause.
Ruthie looked up at me and sighed again. “Will is tired of playing our little game and wants me out of his house.”
I blinked. “That’s right.”
She pushed up to her full standing height, a few inches shorter than my own five-six frame. Her eyes drifted past me and locked onto Lucas. “Ooh, who is that? If you brought him as a distraction, consider it mission accomplished. I’d be happy to haunt him any day of the week.”
“No!” I said, a little too emphatically.
Lucas straightened and I held out a hand, silently telling him at ease.
“You’re not going to haunt anyone,” I told the woman.
Ruthie’s expression shifted, the serene, almost dazed look disappearing in an instant. “Is that so? What are you going to do? Exorcise me?”
“That’s not what I do.”
She smiled. “Then it seems my position is safe.”
I folded my arms. “What is it that you want, Ruthie? Something tells me that you have a price.”
Women like her always did.
Jeez, I’ve been listening to Flapjack too much. Apparently, his jaded worldview was transferrable.
Ruthie mirrored my posture and met my firm stare with one of her own. “I want Will to send my alimony money to my son, Damon.”
I cocked my hip. “I’m not exactly a divorce expert, but I would think alimony payments would stop when you—”
“Dropped dead?” Ruthie snapped. “Technically yes, but Old Moneybags up there has plenty to go around. I was counting on that money for my son’s schooling and future endeavors. Without it, he might have to … well, I shudder to think it, but he might have to go to public school.”
“Oh, good grief.”
“What’s she saying?” Lucas asked.
“She wants money. Would you mind getting Dr. Barnes so we can get these negotiations underway?”
Lucas gave a nod and headed back toward the stairs off the kitchen nook.
I turned my attention back to Ruthie. “And if he says no?”
“Well, until he agrees, I’ll be here, breaking up boys’ nights and if he so much as thinks of bringing a date back here, he’ll see what I can really do. And I can assure you, it will be a lot less pleasant than some spilled popcorn on his plushy Berber carpet!”
“Just simmer down.” I scoffed and turned away from her.
Dr. Barnes and Lucas appeared moments later. The good doctor’s casual swagger must have evaporated during the walk because his face had gone a bit green and he shifted from foot to foot as he stood considering the kitchen. “She’s—she’s here?” he said, barely above a whisper.
I gestured at Ruthie for reference. “She wants you to continue her alimony payments. She wants the money sent to ensure that her son, Damon, has a secure future.”
Dr. Barnes barked a sharp laugh. “So, in addition to being dead, she’s also lost her mind!”
Ruthie puffed up her chest and levitated a few inches off the floor, bringing her to my eye level. “You tell that warthog of a man that he has a week to comply, or the next time his car goes a little squiggly it’s going to be a far bumpier ride!”
“Her bastard of a son isn’t my problem. She should have thought of him before she defaulted on the payments for the beach house in Aruba. She could have sold that and had more than enough money for her snot-nosed little brat.”
“How dare you!” Ruthie screamed. The sound vibrated off the glass but Lucas and Dr. Barnes’s expressions remained unchanged. They hadn’t heard the ear-piercing cry.
Dr. Barnes scoffed. “Why can’t her stripper-turned-bartender boyfriend pay for him?”
“Dr. Barnes, if you don’t … mind … my—” I squeezed my eyes closed against the high-pitched shriek as Ruthie began swirling through the room like a ghost tornado. “Ruthie!”
She stopped screaming and landed on the top of the island, glowering down at all three of us.
I drew in a breath and willed the residual ringing to stop. “Dr. Barnes, it’s none of my business, but it seems it would be easier to write her son a check than to let this continue.”
“She’s not getting a penny,” he replied, his jaw so tense I worried he was doing muscular damage. His eyes darted around. “How do I know she’s really here? What if this is all some scam? You’re going to tell me the address to send the money and I’m supposed to trust it will go to that woman’s son?”
“What?!” I whipped my head around, shocked at the sudden turn. “You do realize that you’re the one who asked me for help? It’s not like I’m hoofing it door to door selling exorcisms and carpet shampoos.”
Lucas snorted.
“This was a mistake. All of it.” Dr. Barnes huffed and threw a hand toward the arched entry into the kitchen. “Just leave!”
“Gladly!” I said, stalking back toward the front of the house. “Enjoy your hauntingly ever after!”
“Can you believe that jerk?” I asked Lucas, throwing the passenger door of his rental car open minutes later.
Lucas buckled himself into the driver’s seat. “Look at it this way—he’s the one who’s going to have to figure out how to get all that butter out of his carpet.”
“Oh, the trials of the wealthy.” I feigned a swoon and we both cracked up. “Can you imagine? A whole sea of popcorn?”
I shook my head and then wiped at my eyes, dabbing away the tears from laughing so hard. “I seriously want to know how she does it. It must be like one of those ball pits they have for kids. Except with butter … so much butter.”
My phone’s ringtone interrupted and I dug into the bo
ttom of my purse to retrieve it. “Wonder if that’s him,” I said, flipping it around to face me. The theory was instantly dispelled as I cringed at the caller ID on my phone. “Not Dr. Barnes. It’s Sonya.”
“Who’s Sonya?” Lucas asked.
“Bridezilla’s wedding planner.”
Lucas grabbed the phone from my hand and chucked it back into my purse. “Sounds like she can wait. There’ll be no worrying about fire-breathing bridezillas on my watch.”
It was hard to argue with his logic, especially considering the steamy kiss that followed.
The studio space beneath my apartment was still dark when I descended the stairs the following morning. I’d gotten in late—really late—and hadn’t seen anyone, not even Flapjack, when I got home.
“Morning. Gwen? Hayward?” I called out into the dark studio space as I hurried to turn on the lights. “Is anyone here?”
A voice called back after a few moments and sent my heart into a frantic beat. “Yes, someone is here!”
Kimberly? How the hell did she get in here?
I flicked on the lights over the counter and my jaw hit the ground.
Kimberly Gardner was indeed standing in my shop, but there was something different about her: mainly, she was dead.
Chapter 5
“Ki—Kimberly?” I stuttered, trying to wrap my brain around the silver-silhouette version of the woman who’d single-handedly doubled my wine budget ever since she blew into town. “What—what happened? You’re—”
“Dead?” She gave a haughty flip of her hair. “Yeah, I’ve been informed of that.”
I staggered forward and braced my hands on the counter, needing something solid to lean against. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She was wearing the same sundress she’d been wearing the morning before when she’d ripped into me for not pointing out the snafu in her color scheme.
“What the hell happened to you?” Eloquence before coffee was a rarity in my world on even the best of days.
“I don’t know,” she replied quietly, showing the first sign of anything less than pure bravado and firepower. “I woke up this way, right there in my hotel. I thought it was a strange dream. I saw a double of myself sprawled across the bed.”
Ghosts Gone Wild: A Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries Book 2) Page 4