The Stubborn Schoolhouse Spirit (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series)

by Nickles, Judy

  “Most people just take the towns they grew up in for granted. Now drive out to the school. Park in the back. Do you have a key?”

  “Mary Lynn gave me one, but there’s nothing to see, and if we turn on the lights, somebody will call the police and report a break-in.”

  “Do you carry a flashlight in your car?”

  “Mary Lynn left one inside, I think. The basement light keeps going out—and so does the flashlight as soon as we hit the bottom step.”

  “You’re imagining things.”

  “I’m not. I swear it happened twice, and we heard voices. Lots of them.”

  “You’re babbling again, Nell.”

  “And you’re implying again I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

  He touched her cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Let’s go inside and see what we can see.”

  The door, the floor, even the walls seemed to creak louder in the dark. “So where’s the basement?”

  Penelope showed him. “Mary Lynn calls the door the key-hole because it’s so small.”

  “It looks like a broom closet.” He retrieved the flashlight from just inside the door and shined it down the stairs. “I’m going down.”

  “For blessed Pete’s sake, why? What’s your interest in this place?”

  “Are you coming?”

  “Well, I’m not staying up here alone in the dark, that’s for sure.”

  He took her hand and started down. At the bottom, the naked bulb dangling from an overhead beam flashed on. Penelope jumped and moved closer to Sam. “It was out. I swear that light was out.”

  “The flashlight’s still burning, too.” He held it up to show her. “So that’s the stubborn boiler.”

  “Or it’s got a stubborn spirit living in it.”

  “You don’t really believe that.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  Sam left her by the steps and walked around the small space, touching the walls, sometimes tapping on a certain spot. “It’s not very big for a school this size.”

  “It’s original to the school when there were only two rooms.”

  “Then there’s got to be another cellar under the rest of it.”

  “If there is, there’s not a door upstairs leading down to it.”

  He shined the flashlight along the rock walls again. “No door, huh? I bet there’s one down here somewhere.”

  “How could there be one in a rock wall?”

  Sam grinned. “During Prohibition, there was a speakeasy in Chicago that had one. It was tripped by a wire, but it looked so solid the Feds never found it.”

  “Fascinating. I could ask Daddy, I guess. He went to school here.”

  Sam turned off the flashlight and pocketed it. “Okay, that’s it.”

  The light bulb popped and went out. Penelope screamed. In the darkness, the sound of a child’s soft laughter filled the darkness.

  Sam pulled her close to him and pressed the button on the flashlight. It didn’t come on. “I told you,” Penelope said and buried her face in his coat.

  “Coincidence. Now, we’re going up. Feel for the first step with your foot. There are thirteen of them. I’ve got your back, so just keep going.”

  “Nobody in their right mind counts stairs,” Penelope muttered, trying to find her footing on the first wooden step.

  “Learning to pay attention to details has gotten me this far.”

  “Thirteen steps. That’s downright creepy.”

  “Up, Nell. Keep going.”

  ****

  “You heard all that,” Penelope said when they were in the car again. “Don’t tell me you didn’t.”

  “I don’t know what I heard.”

  “But you heard something.”

  “Something. Now drive me by the Barnes place. Turn off your lights when you get to the corner.”

  “I’ll end up wrapped around a tree.”

  “No, you won’t. Is that it?” He leaned forward to peer through the windshield. “Turn off your lights and cruise very slowly.”

  By the time they’d reached the next corner, her hands ached from gripping the wheel. “Can we go home now?”

  “Sure. I want to look over that floor plan you drew.”

  “Isn’t it kind of late?”

  “We could always go to bed.” His hand snaked across the seat and rested on her knee.

  She shoved it away. “We’ll talk about the house.”

  ****

  Later, at the top of the stairs, Sam caught her arm. “I guess I don’t have to tell you not to let on to Mary Lynn I’ve been here.”

  “I knew that. I haven’t said a word to anyone, and I won’t. Neither will Daddy.”

  “Good girl.” He moved closer, tucked her hair behind her ears and nibbled the right one, then worked his way down her jaw line to her chin. “Travis Pembroke was a fool.”

  “In his personal life, maybe, but he kept Pembroke Point running like a well-oiled machine. It was and still is a moneymaker.”

  “I know you don’t understand why I come and go like this, and I can’t tell you.”

  “Shana calls you the Gray Ghost. That was the name given to Colonel John…”

  “Mosby. I know my history.”

  “You’re a Yankee.”

  “That’s a mistake you dyed-in-the-wool southerners make, thinking that Yankees don’t know anything about your history and the southern culture.” He tipped her chin and kissed her. “I’d like to know you a whole lot better, Nell.”

  “In the Biblical sense, I’m sure. Not a chance.”

  He laughed. “I like you better every time I see you.”

  “Every time I see you, I just wind up more confused.”

  “That could change someday.”

  “Someday soon?”

  “You never know.”

  “How long have you been doing whatever it is that you do, Sam?”

  “A lifetime or two.”

  “You said you were a teacher. I can see you as a tenured professor at some cozy little college somewhere, shuffling past ivy-covered walls carrying your trusty battered briefcase on the way to class.”

  “Can you?”

  “Your biker persona just doesn’t fit.”

  “But it works.” His hands caressed her inappropriately and unapologetically, but they stayed on top of her clothes.

  “You make me crazy when you do that,” she said, recovering her breath.

  “But not crazy enough.”

  “Not crazy enough to make another mistake, Sam. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re soft and warm, the kind of woman a man can take strength from.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yeah. Women like that are few and far between.”

  “That’s another thing, Sam, the women in your life. I don’t want to be just another notch on your belt.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “At what?”

  He sighed. “Never mind. Are you sure I can’t convince you to come down the hall with me?”

  “I’m sure. Goodnight, Sam.”

  His fingers lingered along her cheek. “Goodnight, Nell.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Sam had gone again before Penelope came downstairs the next morning. “He said to tell you he’d see you around,” Jake said.

  “Did he happen to say when?”

  “Nope.”

  “Shana calls him the Gray Ghost.”

  Jake held out his mug for more coffee. “Fits, I guess. Where’d you two go last night?”

  “How did you know we went anywhere?”

  “I know things.”

  “Oh, good blessed grief, not you, too!”

  “So where’d you go?”

  “He wanted to drive around town. Then we went out to the old school. What do you want for breakfast?”

  “Shredded wheat and toast with orange marmalade.”

  “That’s easy enough.”

  She set his breakfast in front of him and joined him w
ith her own. “Speaking of the old school, Sam thought it was odd that there was only one basement, the one with the boiler.”

  “There’s another one.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Still down under the floor as far as I know.” He laughed at his own joke and wiped the milk from his chin.

  “Daddy, be serious.”

  “I’m dead serious, darlin’. Jessie Ruth started the library in that basement. She had bookshelves built along three walls, some lights hung, and brought a big old thick Persian rug from her own house and put it down in the middle of the floor.”

  “So you were down there.”

  “Every single day I was in school. I loved to read better than eat.” He sighed. “Shame the television has taken over.”

  “You don’t have to let it.”

  “Yeah, but there are so many good programs.” He winked.

  “You don’t miss a single one either, do you? So how do you get down to the basement?”

  “Through the door and down the stairs.”

  “Would you like to know how you get to the old folks home? It’s easy—just keep irritating your dear doting daughter.”

  “Nellie, I’m telling you, you go through the door and down the stairs, and there it is. ‘Course, there’s nothing down there anymore. When the new library across from the park opened in 1941, all the high school boys helped move the books and little tables and chairs over there. I remember we got out of class to do it.”

  “So the school didn’t have a library after that?”

  “Not enough books to go around. But every week, the teachers took their classes over to check out books.”

  “That was a long walk.”

  “Not in those days. We didn’t go when it rained or was icy, but back then, kids were used to walking. Besides, it was a nice break in the school day.”

  Penelope reflected on the state-of-the-art library she’d never really appreciated at the newer school she’d attended. “I bet they liked that,” she said.

  “Library day was an occasion, especially for the little ones.”

  “So back to the door, Daddy. Where is it? There’s not a door going down to another basement, at least one that Mary Lynn and I ever saw.”

  “There’s been a lot of remodeling done over the years. Maybe it got walled up.”

  “Why would anyone do that?”

  “It wasn’t used for anything. Maybe the kids were slipping off and hiding down there or something. You know, getting in a little necking.”

  “A basement isn’t a very romantic place.”

  “Any place is romantic if you’re with your sweetie.”

  “Sweetie? Oh, Daddy, really.”

  “You know the old saying, Nellie. ‘Snow on the roof doesn’t mean…”

  “The fire on the hearth is out, “she finished. “So could you show us where it was?”

  “Sure. Tell me when.”

  “We’re going out to meet Peter Taliaferro on Thursday. That’s soon enough.”

  “Is Shana going?”

  “She says not. He hasn’t called.”

  “That’s too bad. She’s a nice girl.”

  “I think so, too. You can’t hang someone for one mistake.”

  “You shouldn’t anyway.”

  “Want more toast, Daddy?”

  “No, I’m going uptown. The Toney Twins are talking about driving out past Possum Hollow for some barbecue later on.”

  “I hope you’re driving.”

  “Sure I am. Nobody in his right mind rides with the Toney Twins.”

  “Good. I won’t look for you at lunch then.”

  He rose and leaned down again to kiss her cheek. “Have a good day, darlin’.”

  ****

  Penelope ran into Millie Dancer in the lingerie section of Blass’s Department Store. “Shopping for something sexy?”

  Millie startled. “Oh, it’s you, Penelope.”

  When Millie didn’t answer the first question, Penelope tried again. “Did you ever call Peter Taliaferro?”

  “As a matter of fact, he’s coming on Thursday morning.”

  “Really? He’s coming to the school on Thursday afternoon.”

  “The boiler quit again?”

  “Mary Lynn’s fit to be tied.”

  “I’ll bet. She told me she wanted to have the community center ready by spring.”

  “It’s not going to happen. Besides, we have a new project to work on, too.” Penelope told Millie about the boxes Shana had uncovered.

  “You know, my friend Marlo likes that sort of thing. I’ll bet she’d pitch in or at least give you some advice. She could even help you choose frames and do some groupings. She made a few changes at the Sit-n-Swill.”

  “I thought the way you had the pictures arranged was just fine.”

  “She just made a few suggestions, and they worked.”

  “How’s her place coming?”

  “She’s going to open on Saturday. It’ll be in Wednesday’s Bugle.”

  “That was quick.”

  “She didn’t have to do much to the house. She just moved her personal things in upstairs, and she’s using one of the big rooms downstairs as an antique showroom and the other as an art gallery.”

  “I hope she does well in a small place like this.”

  “She thinks she will. I’m still peeved at her over the house. We’d have taken it.”

  “There’ll be another one available, I’m sure. Besides, the last time I was in the Barnes house, it needed some work.”

  “I suppose.” Millie held up a short lilac nightie that left nothing to the imagination. “What do you think?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Shana showed up just as Penelope was leaving for the school on Thursday afternoon. “I changed my mind,” she said. She wore faded jeans, a navy sweatshirt, and sneakers. Her auburn hair pulled back from her face in a rather messy ponytail accentuated the lack of makeup.

  “Guaranteed to knock him dead,” Penelope said with raised eyebrows.

  “I am what I am.”

  I am Sam.

  Penelope shrugged. “Whatever. Let’s go.”

  The Taliaferro Heating and Air pickup sat in front of the school. Penelope pulled her SUV between that and Mary Lynn’s mid-size and got out. “Well, come on,” she said to Shana who appeared to be having second thoughts. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Tossing her head so the ponytail bounced crazily, Shana opened her door and slid out. Mary Lynn met them at the top of the stairs in the entrance. Behind her, a small child wriggled like a slinky. “Miss Shana! Miss Shana! I came to see you.” Tabby Taliaferro raced to wrap her arms around Shana’s knees.

  “Hi, Tabby.”

  The sturdy blonde child, wearing designer denim overalls, a red turtleneck, and a yellow hoodie wriggled again, reminding Penelope of a delighted puppy. “Daddy said I could come.”

  Shana bit her lip. “He did? Well, I’m glad, Tabby.”

  “And Miss Mary Lynn said you’d take me out back on the swings.”

  Shana frowned. “Are they safe?” she asked Mary Lynn.

  “I checked them out the first time I came, because I thought I’d probably need to have them hauled off. They’re good to go.”

  “The old stuff doesn’t wear out,” Penelope said. “They’ve probably replaced the playground equipment at the new school at least three times.”

  Tabby pulled on Shana’s hand. “Can we go now? Please, Miss Shana?”

  “What do you make of that?” Penelope asked as Shana and Tabby disappeared out the door.

  “He said she had a holiday from her preschool, but he didn’t say what for.”

  “I guess she went with him to the Sit-n-Swill this morning then.”

  Mary Lynn nodded. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard all about how she got to sit on a big stool and drink hot chocolate milk through a straw.”

  “Did Peter say what was wrong with the fireplace?”

  “He said there was nothin
g wrong with it as far as he could tell.”

  “That’s what he said about the boiler.”

  Mary Lynn shrugged. “I’ve done some checking, and he’s supposed to be one of the best in the business.”

  “Mrs. Hargrove, come down here a minute.” Peter’s voice floated up the stairs with an almost ghostly echo.

  “This is what’s wrong,” he said when Mary Lynn and Penelope presented themselves. “I didn’t see it before. In fact, I don’t think it was like this before.”

  “I don’t see anything,” Mary Lynn said.

  “It’s off balance. Look how the platform is rotting over here. It’s off balance, which affects how the boiler switch operates.” He squatted down and pulled away some splintered wood. “The rotted part was buried, which is why I didn’t see it, but it looks like someone’s been poking around down here.”

  Mary Lynn threw up her hands. “Not me, that’s for sure!”

  Penelope looked away. You were down here, Sam. Was it you?

  Peter dug away more rotted wood and tossed it aside. Then he used the tool in his hand to scrape the dirt. “See, it’s sinking.”

  Penelope leaned closer. “So what’s it going to take to fix things?”

  “I’ll disconnect all the pipes. Then you’ll have to get someone out here to build a new platform with better ventilation, and I’d suggest a concrete pad be laid down first.”

  Mary Lynn shook her head. “The Town Council will never go for that. They gave me some money but not a blank check.”

  “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Hargove.”

  He put down one hand to balance himself as he got up and went tumbling as his hand plunged through the dirt.

  “Are you all right?” Penelope asked, reaching for him.

  He laughed. “What did somebody do—dig a hole to bury treasure before…” His voice trailed off as his hand came up.

  Mary Lynn crossed herself hastily and breathed, “Oh, saints and angels, preserve us,” when she saw Peter lift the rib bone in the air.

  ****

  Bradley and Officer Parnell Garrett laid out the full set of bones on a black plastic body bag and took pictures of them.

  “You’re sure they’re human?” Penelope asked.

  Bradley gave her a look of pure disgust and repositioned the skull for another shot.