by D. S. Butler
Grandma Grant slammed the knife down on the chopping board. “Oh, fine. This morning I had a minor collision, involving a squirrel.”
Shocked, I stared at her.
“It was nothing serious,” she quickly added, holding up her hands as I finally found my voice and began asking questions at the same time. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it was only a minor accident. Nothing serious. But you can’t borrow it because I need to take the truck to the shop to get it fixed.”
I spotted the keys on the opposite counter and grabbed them. “Well, I can take it to the shop in Cherrytown now for you. It is roadworthy, isn’t it?”
Grandma Grant pondered that for a moment. “Define roadworthy.”
I had a feeling this accident had been more serious than she was letting on. “Okay, I’m going to the garage to take a look.”
Grandma Grant chased after me. “You don’t need to do that! I’m not some old woman who needs you fussing over her all the time. I’m more than capable of taking it to the shop myself.”
I ignored my grandmother and marched out of the house, turning left towards the small garage. I lifted the roller door and stared in horror at my grandmother’s truck. It was totaled.
It was a 1989 Ford F-150. Old but reliable. It ran well, but it could never be described as pretty. It was disfigured by patches of rust and peeling paint, but I’d never seen it in such a state. The front fender was completely buckled, and the grill at the front was dented, too.
“You call this a minor incident?” I turned around to look at Grandma Grant, who was still fuming with me for interfering. “I’d hate to see what you think is a major collision.”
Grandma Grant looked the truck over. “Well, now you come to mention it, it does look a little worse than I remembered.”
I shook my head. “The squirrel must have been made of titanium to make a dent like that.”
“I didn’t say I hit the squirrel, Harper,” Grandma Grant said pedantically. “I hit a beech tree after I swerved to avoid the dumb little critter.”
“You hit a tree.” I put a hand to my forehead. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell Jess or me.”
Grandma Grant shrugged. “I’m fine. There was no need to worry you.”
“I think we better get one of the mechanics from Smiths’ garage to come and look at the truck here and see if they can repair it. We definitely can’t drive it over to Cherrytown in this state.”
“Well, I did try to tell you that,” Grandma Grant said with a snide tone.
“Actually, you didn’t. You made it sound like it was very minor.”
Grandma Grant opened her mouth to argue, but I decided I’d heard enough. She would never admit when she was in the wrong.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re okay. I’ll go back to the cottage and ask Jess if I can borrow her car. Then I’ll visit Smiths’ garage when I’m in Cherrytown and ask them to come and take a look at your truck when they’ve got time.”
I handed Grandma Grant the keys.
I couldn’t believe it. She could have been badly hurt, and neither Jess nor I had any idea she’d been in an accident.
I knew my grandmother was independent, but that was ridiculous.
I left after making Grandma Grant promise not to go anywhere near the truck until I’d asked a mechanic to come and look at it, and Monty and I walked down the trail back to the cottage.
I guessed Pete was still there, so I quickly poked my head in the front door and hollered out to Jess, telling her I was borrowing her car.
I grabbed the keys from the brightly-colored dish on top of the small pine cabinet by the front door and led Monty to Jess’s dark gray VW Golf.
It wasn’t until I was in the driver’s seat, buckled up, waiting for Monty to get in, that I realized I’d made a mistake. He was still a very new ghost.
He hovered uncertainly by the passenger door.
I waved at him, gesturing that he should float through the door and get inside the car, but he just looked at me blankly.
With a sigh, I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car.
“What’s the problem, Monty?”
“I can’t open the door,” Monty said.
“You don’t need to. You’re a ghost so you can just pass through solid objects like car doors.”
Monty shuddered. “What a horrible thought. It didn’t feel very nice when that cyclist went through me earlier. I don’t really want to feel that again.”
“I think it’s different. When you pass through inanimate objects, it doesn’t hurt or feel strange. But when people pass through you, it can feel a little peculiar. Something to do with their energy I think.”
I tried to reassure him by recalling what Loretta had told me. She absolutely hated it when people walked through her, but she would float through doors and walls without any issue.
Monty took a big deep breath and nodded. “Okay, I’ll try.”
He grimaced as he drifted forward and slowly passed through the car door until he was floating in the passenger side.
I walked back around to the driver’s side, smiling. “That’s very good, Monty, well done. Did it feel okay?”
Monty grinned. “Yes, you were right. No problem at all.”
I buckled up again, started the engine and then pulled away from the cottage, but to my shock, Monty didn’t come with me in the car. Instead, he stayed in position, and the car floated right through him, leaving him hovering above the driveway.
“What on earth…?” I turned in the driver seat, looking behind me. “Why was this so complicated?”
I got out of the car again, and Monty looked at me, bewildered. “What just happened?”
“I think you traveled straight through the car. Somehow we have to get you to interact with solid objects enough so you can do things like sit on seats or travel in cars.”
Monty nodded and said, “Right, I’m up for the challenge. How do I do that?”
That was a good question. I didn’t have any idea.
“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s intuition or just practice. Can you try again?”
Monty nodded, and I was glad he was willing to try. I didn’t fancy walking all the way to Cherrytown.
Unfortunately, our second attempt had the same result, leaving poor Monty alone in the driveway.
I clambered out of the car, gritting my teeth in frustration. “I think we’re going to need to get some help,” I said. “Or we could walk to Cherrytown, but that’s going to take us a couple of hours.”
“No,” Monty said, looking determined. “I can do it. I know I can. I was almost there that time.”
I nodded. “Okay, we’ll give it another shot if you’re sure.”
I figured if it didn’t work this time, we could go to the diner and ask Loretta for advice. She should be able to give Monty some tips.
But this time, it worked. Monty remained floating within the car as I set off along the driveway.
I looked over at him and grinned as we pulled out onto the road and headed away from Abbott Cove toward Cherrytown. “Very good, Monty.”
Monty grinned, looking very pleased with himself. “Thanks, it’s really easy once you get the knack for it.”
Unfortunately, he spoke to soon. As he said those words, he floated right through the car, and I had to slam on the brakes.
I had a feeling this was going to be a very long journey.
Monty floated through the car three more times on the way to Cherrytown. I suppose it could have been worse, and it was still quicker than walking.
“I’m sorry, Harper,” Monty said after I’d parked beside the town hall in Cherrytown. “I was trying my best, but every time I stopped concentrating, that was it.” Monty snapped his fingers. “I floated straight through the car, metal and all. It was very disconcerting.”
Chapter 12
“It’s not your fault, Monty,” I said, using my scarf to cover my mouth. There wasn’t anyone close enough
to overhear us, but when we left the town hall and got closer to the shops and cafes, there would be a lot of people around, and I didn’t want to be overheard or seen talking to a ghost.
“I won’t be able to talk to you while we are here, Monty. I can only talk to you when we’re alone,” I reminded him.
“Of course! Sorry, I completely forgot,” Monty apologized, looking contrite as he hovered along beside me.
In the car, we had discussed who to visit first. It had been a disjointed conversation, mainly because Monty kept falling through the car. But when he managed to stay inside the car for longer than thirty seconds, we decided to go to the hardware store first. Monty said Nigel always worked in his store on Saturday afternoons, and only had his nephew to cover on the Saturday mornings he was taking part in the battle re-enactments. I was surprised by that and wondered whether Nigel would take the afternoon off and close the store after witnessing a murder only a few hours ago.
Monty assured me even murder wouldn’t be able to keep Nigel from his store. It was his pride and joy.
Cherrytown was larger than Abbott Cove, but it still possessed a small-town atmosphere. The shops, restaurants and cafés were concentrated along Main Street. We walked past a cute little café, Giuseppe’s Italian restaurant, and a dog grooming parlor, just as an elderly lady stepped out on the street with a large white poodle wearing a pink bow.
I’d passed by the Cherrytown hardware store many times but had never been inside. It had a big red sign above the large window spelling out Nigel’s Hardware Store. Not exactly original, but I suppose it conveyed the message.
I turned to give Monty a reassuring smile and then pushed open the door. The bell above the door rang out as I entered.
The counter and cash register were close to the entrance, and I immediately saw that Monty had been right. Nigel was back at work. He didn’t let the small matter of being present at a murder earlier that day put him off.
But what I found most interesting was the fact that Laura was standing beside him. I hadn’t expected that.
They’d been talking in hushed whispers, but when I entered the store, they stopped. Their faces froze when they turned around and saw me.
I felt a tingle of apprehension. What had they been talking about?
Maybe I was too suspicious. They’d both been present at Monty’s death this morning, so perhaps they just wanted to talk things through.
But from the guarded expressions on both of their faces, I was sure they were keeping a secret.
Nigel was the first to recover his composure. “Harper, isn’t it? You were there at the re-enactment this morning. Terrible business.”
I nodded. “Yes, in fact, that’s why I am here.”
Nigel paled, and Laura’s face took on a pinched expression. “W…What?” Laura stammered.
“Well, you’ll probably think I’m being silly, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened, and I wanted someone to talk to.”
I didn’t sound very convincing, but I was glad to see Nigel relax, and he seemed to accept my explanation.
Monty’s huge bulky form hovered beside me, and his presence made me feel more confident, which was silly really. He couldn’t do anything to help me if I got into trouble.
“What are you doing here, Laura?” I asked putting on a bright smile. “I didn’t think I’d find you hanging out at the hardware store.”
Laura flushed, and her eyes flickered about the store, as though she were desperately thinking of an excuse to explain why she was there.
Nigel beat her to it. He reached behind the counter and grabbed a red plastic bucket before putting it next to the cash register. “Laura needed a bucket. She’s got a leaking pipe, and the plumber can’t come to fix it until tomorrow.”
Laura looked startled, but then she nodded and said, “Err, yes, that’s right.”
The sharp, pinched expression left her face, and she giggled and fluffed her blonde hair. “Thank you ever so much, Nigel. I’d better be off now.”
Disappointed, I tried to intercept her on the way to the door. I’d hoped to talk to Laura and Nigel at the same time since they were both here.
“Oh, can’t you stay for a while?” I asked. “I was really hoping to talk to you both.”
Laura stopped giggling, and her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
I bit my lip, searching for a good reason. “Um, because you were there when it happened. You’ll understand how I’m feeling.”
Laura nodded slowly. “Right, well, I’m very sorry, but I can’t stay. I’ve got things to do.”
And with that, she stepped around me, yanked open the door and hurried out onto the street.
After a moment, I turned back to Nigel and saw that the red bucket that Laura had apparently needed for her leak was still there.
I frowned.
When Nigel saw me staring at the bucket, he grinned awkwardly and said, “Oh, dear, silly old Laura. She’d forget her head if it weren’t screwed on. I’ll just leave it behind the counter. No doubt she’ll be back in a little while when she realizes she’s forgotten it.”
I wasn’t falling for that one. The bucket had been an excuse. They didn’t want to tell me the real reason she had been talking to Nigel. Which was odd. They could easily have made something up about needing to comfort each other, but some people weren’t very good at thinking on their feet.
I can’t say I was very good at it either, but I was certainly getting some practice lately.
I sensed Monty drifting away from me, heading off to look around the store, but I refused to be distracted. I kept my concentration, keeping my gaze fixed on Nigel.
“I hope you don’t mind me turning up like this,” I said, walking towards the counter. “It was just so sad, and I’m a little scared, to be honest. Do you think Monty was murdered by some deranged, random killer or someone he knew?”
Nigel shook his head. “Well, now, I’m not rightly sure. I don’t know anything about it.”
I nodded. “It was a terrible shock. How well did you know Monty?”
“We spent a little time together,” Nigel said slowly. “He joined the re-enactment society shortly after he moved to Cherrytown. I’ve only known him for about eight months, I think, but we met up a couple of times a month at least. And of course, I always saw him around Cherrytown. He was quite a character, very popular.”
I gave a start of surprise as Monty zoomed behind Nigel.
Nigel’s brow wrinkled in a frown. “Are you okay, Harper?”
I tried to recover my composure. “Um, yes. I’m still a little bit on edge, though.”
“Of course, it wasn’t a very nice thing to witness. Poor Monty,” Nigel said.
“I don’t suppose you noticed any newcomers to Cherrytown over the last week or so?”
Nigel shook his head. “No, Cherrytown isn’t a big town, but we do have tourists visiting regularly, so I don’t really pay much attention to newcomers, to be honest.”
I nodded. That made sense.
I took a moment to gaze at the tightly packed shelves crammed into the hardware store. It wasn’t a big room, and it was made to look even smaller by the sheer quantity of products Nigel had jammed in. There was shelving up to the ceiling of every wall, and even freestanding shelving in the middle of the store.
I smiled at him. “It looks like you have got everything a homeowner could ever want in this store.”
Nigel smiled. “Yes, I try my best to stock everything most people would need, but I still lose a bit of business to the bigger units in the city. I can’t compete with them on price.”
Nigel was happy to talk about his store. He beamed with pride as he looked around at his stock. I figured I’d lulled him into a false sense of security, so it was time to ask some murder-related questions.
“I wonder how the police are getting on in their investigation. Have you heard anything?”
“Well, no, but it only happened this morning, so I suppose we need to give them a lit
tle time.”
“Have you got any idea who killed him?”
“Not a clue.”
I was starting to feel disappointed with this conversation with Nigel. I was sure he’d been hiding something when I walked in, but now that he was talking to me, he seemed perfectly normal, and to be honest, quite boring.
I decided to go for broke.
“You know, I’m not stupid, Nigel.”
Nigel blinked in surprise. “I never said you were.”
“I know that Laura wasn’t here to pick up a bucket.”
Nigel paled again, and then two bright spots of red appeared on his cheeks as he blustered, “I don’t know what you mean. Of course, she came in for a bucket.”
I shook my head. “I don’t believe you. Laura came in here for another reason entirely.”
Nigel gulped, but he didn’t respond. I was hoping to trick him into confessing something. He wasn’t likely to confess to Monty’s murder, but I hoped he would at least tell me what he’d been discussing so furtively with Laura.
“All right, I admit it. She didn’t need a bucket. That was just an excuse.”
“I knew it!”
“She came here for the same reason as you. She was distressed about what happened this morning and wanted to talk to somebody about it.”
A likely story. I knew a lie when I heard one, especially when I had used the same excuse myself.
I raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.
“She’s very sensitive,” Nigel insisted.
“So, are you and Laura very close?”
I wondered if they were a couple. They didn’t seem a likely pair. Nigel was past middle age, a little tubby, balding and not exactly the catch of the century. Laura, on the other hand, certainly made the most of her looks and, as Monty told me, she was a man-eater. I assumed she would set her sights on someone a little more affluent than Nigel.
“We’re friends, nothing more,” Nigel said. “I don’t mean to be rude, Harper. But I am very busy here. I don’t really have time to chat today.”
I looked around the hardware store, which was empty of customers and frowned. “Of course, I’m sorry for troubling you.”
That was definitely a brush off. Would an innocent person act that way? If he had nothing to hide, why was Nigel so uncomfortable with my questions. I guess I’d pushed him too hard.