“Then drop the attitude.”
She pursed her lips, but thankfully kept them closed.
“As I was saying,” I continued, emphasizing each word. “Some spirits get stuck here on earth. Now, in my experience, this is usually caused by some unresolved issue leftover from their lives. So, if we figure out what has held you back, we can try to fix it.”
“Then I can go?”
“It’s possible. I can’t really make a guarantee, but I have been doing this a long time. A long, long time …” I paused and released a slow breath. “Anyway, if we can figure it out, you’ll probably be able to cross over.”
Kimberly cocked her hip. “And do you have any experience with murder victims? Seems like that would be a big, fat unresolved issue.”
I cracked a smile. “I’d say this is the first time we’ve agreed on something.”
“So, we solve the murder, I get my angel wings?”
“Something like that.”
She brightened but the effect was short-lived. “How do we do that?”
I had a feeling that Kimberly wouldn’t even know how to properly load a dishwasher, so asking her to try to tackle something like a potential murder investigation was a little far-fetched.
“I know one of the officers over there. He’ll probably know something. I’ll go talk to him after work, okay?”
“Great! I’ll circle back at six so that I can go with you.”
Swell. Just swell.
Chapter 12
As promised—or was it threatened?—Kimberly showed up at six o’clock.
And so did Lucas.
He tapped on the locked front door and my heart jumped into my throat. In the craziness of the day, I’d lost track of my anxiety over our strange post-date conversation the night before. One look at him was enough to kick it all back into high gear. I hurried to let him in, a dozen questions running through my brain. That smile, was it hesitant? Was he holding something back? Or was he happy? Was it all just a fluke?
“Hey,” I said, trying to shove all the nagging thoughts to some far corner of my mind. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Yeah, I know. I called but it went to your voicemail,” he said, following me inside.
“Oh, gosh. I’m sorry. It’s been ridiculous around here today.” I glanced at Kimberly and silently added, and it’s not over yet.
Lucas leaned casually against the front counter. “I know we didn’t officially make plans for tonight, but I thought I’d take a chance and see if you’re free.”
“Who is this?” Kimberly asked, an edge of suspicion in her voice. “He can’t possibly be your boyfriend.”
“And just why not?” I snapped.
Lucas wrinkled his brow. “Sorry, are you asking … or telling?”
“Oh! No, not you.” I shot a glare at Kimberly. “Mouthy ghosts, the usual.”
“Aha.” His smile returned even as his brow remained slightly furrowed. “Well, if I play my cards right, maybe I can get you to agree to talk them into giving you a night off.”
I eyed Kimberly, who was vigorously shaking her head.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked, flashing a sweet smile at the argumentative spirit. She sucked in her lips like she’d bitten into a lemon.
“Dinner, for starters.”
I nodded. “Dinner sounds great.”
Kimberly cleared her throat.
“I just have to make a quick stop. Can I meet you somewhere?”
“Sure.”
We made the plans and Lucas sauntered out of the shop. I locked up after him and then returned to finish ordering some flowers on one of my favorite wholesale websites.
Kimberly watched him go. “He’s really your boyfriend?”
“You know, if there’s someone’s love life that we should talk about, it’s probably yours,” I replied. “You tracked down Casper yet?”
Kimberly’s gaze shifted away from me. “He went back to New York.”
I frowned. “I thought the police wanted everyone to stay close until they figured out what happened to you.”
“Apparently he’d already gone.”
“Interesting.”
Suspicious, was actually more the word I was looking for. But until I was certain where Kimberly stood with Casper, I wasn’t going to voice that part of my working theory.
“Why wouldn’t he have come back for the funeral?”
She licked her lips. “I don’t know.”
“Well, come on, if I’m going to help you, I need to know what happened. What was the fight about? The night you died?”
Kimberly looked away, her lips spread into a thin line.
“That bad, huh?”
“It was all Casper’s fault,” she started.
Why am I not surprised?
She scoffed, tossing her hair. “I was in the middle of explaining the seating chart to him and he wanted to talk about the budget.”
“The horror,” I quipped.
Kimberly shot me a nasty look but continued, unprompted. “My parents are—were—the ones paying for the whole thing, so I honestly don’t know why he even cared. I mean sure, they gave me some parameters but those were flexible.”
“Uh huh.”
“Anyway, one thing led to another, and he brought up the whole house-hunting thing, and away we went!”
“What’s the house-hunting thing?”
“In addition to being in the middle of planning our wedding, we’re also trying to decide which house to buy. It’s taken ten months of looking to even get close to something we might consider and now there are two properties. Casper leans toward one and I want the other. It’s been a sore spot for a few weeks now.”
My heart went out to the poor sap who’d been trying to scour the city of New York for housing that was up to Kimberly’s standards. Considering her detailed preferences in the botanical world, I could only imagine what she would have to say about things like square footage and closet organizers. Those ten months had probably felt more like ten years.
“Okay, obviously setting wedding budgets and house hunting are two loaded topics, but how did it go from that to a screaming match so loud the front desk was getting calls about it? I also don’t see how anything could have kept him from attending your funeral. I mean, that seems like a pretty big … break.”
“Oh, it was always like that between us. He’d call me selfish, I’d call him cheap.”
The blasé way she said it made my eyes widen. “That didn’t bother you?”
To me, that was like a big, flashing caution sign on the freeway to marriage: Turn Back! Danger Ahead!
Kimberly tilted her head. “No, not really. I mean, at the time, obviously yes. But it was normal. For us. I guess.”
“So, you tossed some barbs, Casper left the hotel room. Then what?”
“I was going to take a long bath, drink some wine, and wait for him to come back.” A glint sparked in her eyes. “That was always the best part. Anytime we had a blow-out fight, the making up part was always so—”
I snapped up a hand. “Stop! TMI.”
Kimberly rolled her eyes.
“I get it, you were in the bath. Next?”
“Someone knocked at the door. I figured Casper was back earlier than expected and had just forgotten his key card, but it wasn’t.” She frowned at the memory. “It was Drea.”
“With the cake samples, right?”
“Yes. Although I don’t know why I was even bothering. That cake woman wasn’t qualified to operate an Easy-Bake Oven!” Kimberly soured. “We were also planning to have dinner together. Drea and Casper always got along really well and he seemed to invite her to dinner every night.”
A lightbulb flashed somewhere in the back of my mind. Were Casper and Drea covering something up? Something more than a friendship? It would make sense. Casper was likely at his wit’s end with Kimberly’s antics and turned to Drea, a sympathetic ear. Maybe one thing led to another … it would hardly be the first time ther
e was something scandalous going on just behind the bridal veil.
The problem was that I couldn’t ask Kimberly and there was no way to find the information on my own. At least, no good way. I wasn’t about to wander up to either Drea or Casper and ask if they’d fallen into one another’s beds anytime in the last few months. Talk about an awkward conversation.
I tucked away the curl of suspicion and turned my attention back to Kimberly. “So, Drea showed up for dinner. Did you two go to dinner alone? Since Casper was gone?”
She shook her head and curled her top lip a little. “No, we argued, too.”
A sigh slipped from my lips before I could throw a bridle on it.
Kimberly sank a little lower, her semi-translucent form curving into a question mark. One perk of having no bones or muscles—you could hold odd postures without fear of cramps or stiffness. “Drea told me that she agreed with Casper. Our parents were stressed about the wedding budget but hadn’t brought it up to me before. I told her she was lying, that she was jealous that I was getting married and she wasn’t. She told me that I was delusional and selfish. It got ugly.”
“Did you two ever get along?” I asked, somehow unable to picture it. Whenever they’d been in my flower shop at the same time, the whole room would crackle with the tension. Dark looks, irritated sighs and mumblings.
Kimberly straightened. “Not really. We’re five years apart. I was starting school when she was a baby. We never shared friends, or interests for that matter. Drea is … different. She’s quiet and reserved. Geeky.”
“Whereas you were the captain of the cheerleading team and Homecoming Queen?” I ventured.
She didn’t deny it but her lips twisted into a deep frown that left grooves at the corners of her mouth.
“What happened after Drea left?” I asked gently.
“She’d brought over some cake samples, so I got a fork and the entire bottle of wine, and went to the bath.”
“What do you remember after that?”
Kimberly thought about it for a moment. “I remember that I didn’t feel good. I figured it was the sugar and wine. I’ve been dieting like a crazy person for eight months. Shredding for the wedding,” she added in a sing-song voice. “It all seems so pointless now.”
“From what I’ve heard, you died from an allergic reaction,” I told her. “They think it was something in the cake samples.”
Her eyes didn’t register any surprise. “I know. I spent most of the day at the police station.”
“Oh.” I rocked back onto my heels. “Well, do you think that’s what happened? Does it line up?”
“I don’t know. I remember getting out of the tub. I got to the phone. My throat was scratchy and my whole face itched. I thought I called the front desk, but it must not have worked or something. I’m allergic to dairy, shellfish, most type of grass, oh, and sesame seeds.”
“Yikes.”
She nodded. “My parents had me tested for food allergies when I was young. They thought there was a link between that and my bad grades.”
My brows cinched together. “Why would they think that?”
“I had trouble concentrating in school. The teachers would call my parents and tell them I needed to see a specialist. They took me to shrinks, doctors, a nutritionist, and even some ancient guy who supposedly practiced the art of healing.”
“Did any of it help?”
“Not really. But it got me out of school, so I didn’t really mind.” She smiled at a memory. “For a while, I convinced one of the counselors that my parents weren’t letting me out of my room and would push my meals under the doors twice a day.”
I blinked. “Why would you do that?”
She shrugged. “I was bored. Trying to get them to pay attention to me, I guess.”
“I guess that’s one way to get it.”
Kimberly’s expression shifted, something darkened in her eyes. “It’s past six o’clock. Can’t we go now? I’d really like to get this over with.”
My natural curiosity made me reluctant to drop the conversation when it was clear we were right on the fringe of a breakthrough, but if she clammed up, there was nothing I could do. “Let me grab my purse.”
Officer Jason Keith was on duty when we arrived at the station. I asked for him at the front desk, and he appeared within minutes, wearing a bright smile. My heart sank when I realized how my impromptu visit might be misinterpreted. A couple of months back, Jason had been instrumental in helping me deal with an even more obnoxious—and ultimately, more tragic—ghost than Kimberly. It had been clear he was interested in more than a working relationship, but I was already in the beginning of my relationship with Lucas, or at the very least, emerging from the denial that I even wanted a relationship.
“Hello, Scarlet. It’s been a little while,” Jason said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his black police-issued slacks. He was always polished and neat, not a button or pleat out of order. I supposed it was an admirable quality, but at the same time, it was hard to imagine his attraction to me. I didn’t wander around full-blown bag lady or anything, but my jeans usually bore holes at the knees, and getting dressed up meant wearing shoes that didn’t have scuffs on the toes.
I returned his easy smile. “Hello, Jason. How are you?”
“Doing all right. Working a lot of overtime. The summer always brings out the crazies.”
“I’ll bet.” I laughed, the sound hollow, and then my eyes fell on the ancient receptionist whose expression made it clear she could do without our small talk. Returning my gaze to Jason, I folded my hands together in front of me. “Listen, is there any way that I could have a few minutes? There’s something I wanted to ask you about. Officially, I mean.”
“Of course,” Jason replied. His tone remained casual, but a flicker of something … disappointment … crossed his face. “Come on back.”
He led the way, but I remembered the path from my last visit to the small station. Jason’s workspace was a parceled-out patch among a cluster of desks, all separated by low partitions that didn’t quite qualify them as proper cubicles. I wasn’t sure why he even had a desk considering he wasn’t a detective, but it seemed the force was small enough that everyone got a space to call their own. Must be some kind of morale thing, I decided as I took the seat Jason offered me.
I glanced around as I slid down into the chair. Kimberly wasn’t anywhere in my line of sight. She’d followed me over, mostly keeping to herself, but was now gone.
Weird.
“What’s going on?” Jason asked once he took his own seat. He sat across from me but the space was so small that our knees nearly met in the middle. “You on some new CIA mission?” he teased.
“Not this time.” I crossed my legs and laced my fingers together over my knee. “Actually, it’s about Kimberly Gardner. I don’t know if you know, but I was hired to do the flowers for her wedding.”
“Your name was on the list of potential contacts,” Jason replied.
Even though I was completely innocent, the idea of my name being grouped together on some investigation notepad or dry erase board spooked me.
“Right, of course. Well, I wanted to share some information and maybe get a few questions answered too.”
Jason considered me for a moment and then gave a slight nod. “Go ahead.”
Being as discreet as possible, I glanced around, doing one more sweep for any sign of Kimberly. If she was helicoptering over my shoulder, the next words out of my mouth would have to be carefully chosen. As there was no sign of her, I opted to speak a little more freely. “Let me start off by saying that I’m sure Kimberly was a lovely woman and that she was simply going through a stressful time and not at her best while here in town.”
Jason smiled. “Scarlet, we’ve talked to half a dozen vendors and service providers. I’ve got a good sense of the victim.”
“Right, right.”
“Did you personally have an issue with her?”
“I—uh. Well, that�
��s kind of a funny thing. I think she was just a little … you know?”
Jason chuckled and held up a hand, silently letting me off the hook. “Got it.”
“Regardless of Kimberly’s bad behavior, I think arresting Penny is way off track. Penny is one of the— “
“Arresting?” Jason interrupted, his face suddenly set in a frown. “We haven’t arrested anyone. Where did you hear that? The Lucky Lady?”
“Something like that,” I admitted with a scowl. I should have known that was a polluted stream.
“No one has been arrested. At this point, we’re just trying to get a sense of what happened. It looks as though she suffered a severe allergic reaction and that’s what eventually led to her death, but—” he paused and looked past me. “Well, this is off the record, but I think the whole thing is a little ridiculous. The department is only doing a formal investigation because of the high-profile nature of the case.”
“Really?”
Jason sat back in his chair. “Was there anything else you had to say, Ms. Sanderson?”
I looked over my shoulder and saw Chief Lincoln passing through the bull pen. Aha.
“Just that I’m available if you think of anything else you need,” I added in a louder than necessary voice. “Thank you for addressing my concerns, Officer Keith.”
Jason snorted. “A little thick,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.
“You sure?” I asked, peeking once more as Chief Lincoln exited the small space and went into what must have been his private office. “I could have added a ‘thank you for protecting our community, you should get a raise!’ at the end.”
He laughed and pushed to his feet. I followed. “Come on. Let me walk you out. Unless, there was something else?”
“Is it true that her fiancé went back to New York already?”
“Yeah. We’ve been in contact but aren’t requiring him to return for questioning.” He placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me back toward the short hallway that led to the front of the station. “I really wouldn’t worry yourself with all this, Scarlet. It will blow over in a few days. Once the Gardners are on their way home again.”
Ghosts Gone Wild: A Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries Book 2) Page 10