by Angie Fox
Yes.
But I’d expected him to understand.
“Verity,” she said when I hadn’t spoken, “you can’t just do what you want and apologize later.”
Why not? “It works for Frankie.”
“Didn’t he get shot in the head?” she asked innocently.
“Well, when you put it that way…” I stopped outside the library, not quite ready to end the call. Lauralee’s perspective had been refreshing, yet difficult to hear. And I didn’t relish what I might have to do next. “Talking to Ellis about this is going to be hard for me,” I admitted. Usually, I’d be the first person to stress the importance of communication, but that was when I felt confident my ideas would be well received. “Ellis is one of the most important people in my life. What if our talk goes badly?”
She paused.
Oh no. Lauralee thought it was about to go off the rails, too. “What? Tell me.”
“Relax,” she coaxed. “I was only wishing I could give you a hug.”
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling fidgety. “Can’t you just tell me I’m right and we can be done with this?”
She chuckled and I heard her son snuggling up to her in the background. “You are wise and wonderful, and he’s lucky to have you,” she said to me. “But if you’re always looking to be right, you’re going to have to make him wrong.”
Dang. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
“Why don’t you try to find a way through this together? Trust me, it’s better than being right.”
I let her get back to Hiram. She had a point. I would have to talk to Ellis, never mind that it was hard. I’d try to involve him even if I’d rather do things my own way.
I sighed, thankful to have a friend like Lauralee, someone who knew me so well and was always there for me. Had it been this way for Jorie and my grandmother? Maybe someday in the far-off future, Lauralee would be giving a dried wedding flower to my daughter.
That thought made me smile as I approached the red limestone columns flanking the entrance to the library. The door itself resembled something out of a medieval castle. I pushed it open and was rewarded with the heady scent of old books.
I continued into the main room, past the displays of spring craft books and Southern mysteries. I wound my way through the expansive reading room off the lobby and spotted my sister at the desk. She wore her blond hair up in the kind of loose, twisty French braid that I’d only seen in magazines and on her. She’d tucked a pink flower pen behind her ear and managed to appear both studious and charming at the same time.
She ducked around the desk and met me halfway, treating me to a sisterly embrace while giving a short tug on my hair, the same as she did when we were growing up.
“I knew it. I knew you were going to be by today,” she said, pulling back.
“You heard about my fight with Ellis?” I asked.
“Yes.” Her blue eyes clouded. “And there’s more. I swear to heaven your ghost has been calling me all day.”
“Frankie?” But that was impossible. “He can’t talk to you.”
“I think he figured out how to call,” she said, beckoning me toward one of the research rooms lining the back wall. The library had four in total, all with thick wooden doors and old-fashioned windows overlooking the courtyard below. “My phone’s been ringing all day, and when I answer, I get crazy static.”
That was a new one, even for Frankie.
“I think he’s looking for you.”
I did leave without telling him where I was going, but it wasn’t as if I owed him an explanation. We weren’t due to set off on another manhunt this morning.
I’d deal with him later.
“Look, I was at the church when Jorie died yesterday,” I told her, watching her expression fall.
“I heard about that as well.” Because the Sugarland grapevine was more like a bullhorn. “What a terrible accident.”
“I’m not sure it was an accident. There’s something strange at that church—on the ghostly side,” I said as I followed her into the nearest research room. “I think it’s bleeding into the experience of live people who are on the property. And the ghosts don’t seem too happy, either. Will you see if you can find any tragedy or traumatic event that happened at or near the church?”
“I’m on it,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. “Although, you’d think the kind of terrible event you’re describing would be common knowledge.”
“Agreed.” But if anyone could find it, Melody could. “You should know that isn’t the only thing that seems strange about Jorie’s death.”
I told her everything that had happened, including Fiera’s insistence that she’d acquired Jorie’s treasured memories for the library.
Melody frowned. “Why would we want Jorie’s pictures?”
“Historic display?” I asked.
She thought about that. “We’re putting together a Sugarland celebrations exhibit for Memorial Day. I’ll ask what Fiera brought in and if you can see it.”
“I need to see it,” I insisted.
Melody smiled. “Well, then we’ll ask first so we’ll know if you need to sneak.”
That was my sister. She understood you had to bend the rules sometimes.
I let her get back to work and headed home. I had an inexplicable craving for Italian food, so I stopped by La Cozza Infuriata on Main Street for a plate of spaghetti and garlic bread to go. I made small talk with the owner’s son until my order came up, then headed home, eager for a delicious and well-deserved break. But as I steered up my front drive, I instead found a ghost standing stiff-backed in the driveway. Frankie was waiting for me.
And he was ticked.
Chapter Thirteen
“You left,” Frankie accused, sticking his head through my window before I had a chance to roll it down. “You said you’d help me hunt down my no-good brother, and you took off instead.”
“Hop in,” I told him, not exactly thrilled to be having a come-to-Jesus with a cranky gangster in the middle of my driveway.
He shimmered into being in my passenger seat, arms crossed, giving me the scat eye like he expected an answer.
“I was investigating Jorie’s death,” I said, pulling the car around the side of the house. Rocks crunched under my tires as my car trundled over the uneven drive.
“What about my death?” Frankie countered. “I’ve been dead longer than Jorie.”
It wasn’t a contest.
“What happened today?” Something had him all worked up. “Did you learn something new?”
“No,” he admitted. “But I have an idea.”
“Heaven help us.”
“I have a lead on Lou. We need to sneak over to the movie theater.”
“All right.” I stopped the car in front of the rosebushes out back. “The closest movie plex is the AMC off the highway.”
“I’m not talking about your version of a movie theater,” he said as if I’d lost my marbles. “I’m talking about mine. And this,” he added, spreading his hands and looking at my lovely backyard, “this is not the way to get there.”
“Is the movie theater burning down?”
“No,” he answered sullenly.
“Then we’ll go in a bit,” I promised. “As soon as possible,” I added at his frown. “I need to eat and tend to Lucy first.” The skunk would be expecting her dinner too and, at the very least, a quick jaunt around the backyard.
“Lucy’s been squirrely all day,” he grumbled, trailing me up the back steps.
“Have you been pacing in my house?” When Frankie got agitated, he’d been known to wear a path in front of his urn and the parlor fireplace. Poor Lucy liked to sleep on the couch right across from it, but it would be impossible for her to relax if my ghost had been carrying on.
“It’s my house too,” Frankie said, rubbing a hand over his neck, pretending he didn’t feel guilty about bothering Lucy.
I loved that he cared, although he’d be mortified if I po
inted it out.
“Won’t take but a minute,” I promised, opening the door to an overjoyed skunk. “Lucy!” I crouched to greet her.
She took one look at Frankie, and that was it. She turned tail and dashed away down the side hall.
I sighed.
“It’s not my fault she doesn’t like me,” Frankie said defensively.
I glanced up at the ghost. “That’s true. You’ve been nothing but sweet to her.” In the seconds before she would flee.
While the gruff gangster held a soft spot for animals, this particular skunk wanted nothing to do with him. “Why don’t you rest in your shed, and I’ll come get you when I’m ready?” Ellis had built him a perfectly wonderful place of his own next to the pond.
“Oh, no,” Frankie said as if I were up to something nefarious in my kitchen. “I’m keeping an eye on you until we leave.”
“Suit yourself.” I grabbed some carrots from the fridge, along with some fresh green beans I’d snapped yesterday and some cooked brown rice that would go nicely.
Frankie blanched as I added it all to the pan. “This isn’t Thanksgiving, you know. I’d like to get out of here before breakfast.”
Please. If anything, it had started to resemble Chinese takeout. “I’ll only be a minute,” I said, sautéing the vegetables in a bit of olive oil. Skunks liked to eat a variety of foods, and the virgin olive oil would give Lucy a beautiful, shiny coat. I’d add the rice in after. “I can easily take care of you both.”
“Now you’re comparing me to a skunk,” he gruffed, reaching into his suit pocket for his revolver and checking the bullets.
“Never.” Lucy was far better behaved. “You prepare that. I’ll prepare this,” I said, adding some rotisserie chicken thigh I had left over from a couple nights earlier. Lucy preferred dark meat.
“My pre-manhunt routine is not the same as you cooking a skunk dinner.”
It wasn’t all that different, either.
“So who are we hunting down at the theater?” I asked, noticing Lucy as she poked her head into the kitchen to see what I had cooking.
“We’re intercepting Wally Big Ears,” Frankie said, replacing the revolver in his side holster and going for the gun in the back of his pants.
“I hope that’s not his real name.” My stomach grumbled at the savory smell of sautéed vegetables.
“Might as well be.” Frankie shrugged. “The guy knows things.”
“Well,” I said, giving Lucy’s dinner a stir, “I’m looking forward to meeting him.” Meanwhile, Lucy took a few more steps into the kitchen, waving her tail back and forth like a barometer of her emotions. Dinner was exciting for skunks, even if she had to share the room with Frankie to get it.
“I’m glad you said that,” Frankie said, nudging his suit jacket aside and planting his hands on his hips. “Because you’re the one who needs to get Big Ears to talk.”
I almost dropped my spoon. “Why me?”
Frankie’s shoulders stiffened. “Due to an unfortunate incident where I happened to shoot him in the crotch, he doesn’t like me much.”
“Frankie!” I admonished.
“He was already dead at the time,” he muttered, as if that made a difference.
“You need to work on your people skills,” I said, spooning Lucy’s dinner into her bowl.
“Yeah, I’m ranking that right up there with my dream to be a prima ballerina.”
“I’m not sure I know where to begin questioning a gangster,” I said, carrying Lucy’s dinner to where she stood dancing in place at the edge of the kitchen. “Free delivery,” I told her, letting her keep her distance from the ghost.
“It’ll be easy,” Frankie assured me. “You just need to find out what Wally Big Ears knows about Lou’s whereabouts. And you have to remember that my entire mental state rides on you making it work.”
“Sure.” No pressure there.
“That’s the spirit,” Frankie said. “Now, do you have a bulletproof vest?”
“No.” I gaped at him. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Nah!” Frankie waved me off a little too vigorously for my taste. “It’ll be great.” He shrugged. “It just occurred to me last night at the speakeasy how fragile you living can be.”
I popped the lid on my carry-out spaghetti. “I take it to mean you didn’t think about my fragile human self the time you ticked off that dead hit man, or the time we snuck into that creepy ghostly animal exhibit? I mean, that snake was huge.”
“Steve.” Frankie nodded.
“What?”
“The snake’s name was Steve,” he said.
“Whatever.”
“Now who doesn’t care about animals?”
“Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?” I asked, dipping my garlic bread in red sauce. Truly, the ghost was infuriating.
“Look, you’re going to be fine,” he concluded. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Now keep eating or we’re going to be standing around the kitchen all night yacking.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. The pasta hit the spot. After I ate, I refreshed my lipstick, put my hair in a ponytail, and was ready to go.
“Any day now,” Frankie said as I let Lucy out into the yard. She scrambled past the ghost and made a beeline for her favorite apple tree by the pond.
“I’m ready,” I said as my house phone rang. “Just a second.”
“Argh!” The gangster threw his hands up while I rushed to the avocado green wall phone.
“Ellis! I’m glad you caught me,” I said, ignoring Frankie’s wide-eyed stare. He could wait. Wally Big Ears wasn’t going anywhere in the next two minutes. Meanwhile, my stomach knotted as I considered how to put Lauralee’s advice to work.
“Heading out?” Ellis asked.
“Hmm…” I said, trying to figure out how to put it. “I’m doing a favor for Frankie.” That sounded safe enough. Ellis knew how demanding Frankie could be.
“Where are you going tonight, Verity?” Ellis pressed.
I took a breath and answered him truthfully. “A haunted theater.”
“The AMC multiplex?” he asked, surprised.
“No. I’m not sure where this one is.” For all I knew, it could be an abandoned property.
“You’d better not be breaking in anywhere,” my boyfriend warned. “I’m on duty tonight.”
Dang. I wound the phone cord around my arm. “That was last night,” I said before I lost my courage. “But everything worked out,” I added quickly while he swore under his breath.
Then I told him everything about the speakeasy and the holdup and how well it had all gone.
“Verity,” he said. There was no mistaking that tone.
“I’m trying to be honest.” Although, I did leave out the part about promising a date to the bartender.
“You’re losing your mind,” Ellis declared.
This was not at all the love and support I’d hoped to get out of this conversation. “Maybe I’m changing,” I informed him, pacing the kitchen, unwinding the cord as I went. “If that’s what you want me to say, I’ll say it. But I like who I’m becoming. And I like you, so I hope you’ll be able to like the person I’m becoming, too. Lauralee says I need to invite you along for the ride.”
“Straight off a cliff?” he barked. “No thanks.”
“Are you even listening to me?” I demanded, stopping short of the kitchen island. I took a deep breath. Calm down. “I’m supporting my friends,” I said, keeping my tone sweet, yet unyielding, “the same as I did before I was a ghost hunter. Only now, some of my friends happen to be dead.”
Frankie waved at me from the door. “I’d be more supported if you’d get off the phone.”
But I was on a roll. “Maybe if you joined us for another ghost hunt, you’d see that.”
“You’re really doubling down on this,” Ellis said as if I’d told him I was off to join the circus.
“I’m simply asking you to try to understand.” Was th
at so hard? “Be the man who knows everything about me and loves me anyway.”
I held my breath, waiting for his response.
“You’re starting to take risks like Frankie,” he said guardedly.
Hardly.
I glanced at the ghost, who was busy polishing his brass knuckles with his suit jacket.
“It’s a slippery slope,” Ellis added.
“Indeed,” I said woodenly.
I didn’t know what else to say to get through to him. I didn’t have a lot of practice baring my soul, but I’d tried my best.
“A year ago, you never would have held up a bartender,” Ellis said, still stuck on that.
“I’m being open with you, and you’re using that to twist everything around,” I said, working to keep a hold on my temper.
“I’d better not have to arrest you tonight.”
“You wouldn’t,” I assured him, and myself, feeling my pulse pick up.
“I would,” he warned.
“What a terrible thing to say,” I choked.
“I’m only being honest,” he said, turning my words around on me.
“No boyfriend of mine would arrest me,” I said, refusing to give credit to his threat.
“No girlfriend of mine would act like a criminal,” he stated. “Think about what you’re doing,” he urged, leaving me speechless as he hung up.
“I can’t believe that just happened,” I said, staring at the phone.
Frankie winced and held his hands out. “He’s a guy,” he said, by way of explanation.
“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked, unwilling to let go of the phone.
“Guys say stupid things,” Frankie reasoned. “I do it all the time. Just ask Molly.”
Yes, well, Ellis wasn’t one to make idle threats. I really could lose him over this.
“Are you ready to go now?” Frankie pressed.
“I am,” I said, still shaken. Regardless of what Ellis had said, Frankie and I still had a job to do. My housemate’s entire afterlife could depend on finding his brother and reconciling his death. I wasn’t about to sacrifice that just because Ellis didn’t understand.
“Verity?” Frankie prodded.
The phone began beeping, and I realized I still hadn’t hung up on my end.