Hayward tipped the brim of his top hat. “Pleasure to meet you, good sir.”
“They’re both happy to meet you,” I translated with a slight roll of my eyes.
Lucas pocketed his hands. “Man, this stuff is crazy.”
The drew a laugh from me. “Tell me about it.”
I eyed the cookies trapped under the cellophane barrier and my stomach rumbled. I hadn’t had breakfast yet, and while I knew I needed something with a little more substance and a lot less white flour and sugar, I couldn’t help but want to stuff one of the frosted beauties into my mouth.
“Did the police reports get you anywhere?”
“I’m not sure yet.” I recapped the basics and Lucas looked as disappointed as I felt.
“You mind if I take a look at them?” he asked when I finished.
“Not at all; maybe you’ll see something I missed.” I went to my office and retrieved them from the desk drawer. On my way back to the front, I snagged a pair of scissors and used them to attack the cellophane wrapping after passing off the paperwork.
“How’s filming?” I asked, glancing up at him. “No more disasters, I hope.”
Lucas shook his head, his eyes glued to the papers in his hands. “Nothing weird, at least. Sheila had a meltdown because the stylist packed the wrong jewelry for the outfit she was wearing, but that’s pretty typical.”
I snorted and peeled back the edge of cellophane where I’d cut a square hole. My fingers wiggled as I decided which cookie to start with. “A real diva, huh?” I selected a dark chocolate cookie that had been frosted to look like a tulip.
Lucas smiled at me but didn’t comment as I took a bite from the cookie. “She can be a bit of a handful. The worst was when she flat-out refused to be seen on camera after she and Stewart got back from a ten day cruise and came back a little heavier than she’d left. She caught sight of herself on the playback and lost her mind. She barricaded herself in her trailer and refused to come out until the producers promised they’d shut down filming until she could complete a juice cleanse.”
I laughed. “Wow. Sounds like a party.”
Lucas shrugged. “It’s entertaining, if nothing else. Mostly I stay because I get to travel to different places, and I get three months off every year to do whatever the heck I want. Not many people have jobs like that, so I try not to complain too much.”
“Yes, you’re very humble,” I teased.
After another moment, he set the pages down on the counter and reached for a cookie. “Well you’re right; there’s not a lot in there. Is it possible she’s wrong? That it was just an accident?”
I shrugged. “I don’t really know.”
He took a bite of his chocolate chip cookie and slowly began wandering the perimeter of the shop. He looked out of place amongst the bright displays and kitschy gift items that were scattered throughout the store. While a significant portion of my customers were men, the retail space had been designed for women shoppers. Cute cards featuring chubby kittens, glittery butterflies, and a line of funny cards intended for girlfriends to give to one another—usually featuring a hunky man and a bottle of wine. He paused to peruse a selection of ceramic teapots that I’d turned into decorative planters.
I forced myself to stop watching him and spun the papers to face me. I’d read the words three times through, but looking at them with fresh eyes, a new detail jumped out at me. I sucked in a quick breath and choked on some lingering cookie crumbs.
Lucas whipped around. “Are you all right?”
I sputtered and coughed but nodded my head. “I’m fine,” I croaked.
After a few sips of cold coffee, I was able to breathe again. “I just realized something.”
“What is it?” he said, coming back to join me at the counter.
I pointed at the paper. “This address on Marigold—I think I was there last night.”
“You think?”
I quickly told him about the late-night frolic through the quiet neighborhood.
Lucas marveled at me for a moment, his expression a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “Scarlet, you are by far the most interesting person I’ve ever met. I’m halfway tempted to stay in Beechwood Harbor just to see what you get yourself into next.”
Hayward snorted from across the room.
I shot him a quick scowl and he sobered.
Returning my attention to the papers, I started putting pieces together. “Rosie’s mother lived on Marigold, at least at the time of Rosie’s death. What do you want to bet she still lives there? That has to be what Rosie was up to last night—going to check on her mother.”
“But why?”
“Wouldn’t you want to see your loved ones, if you were a ghost, I mean?”
Lucas considered it and then nodded. “I suppose so.”
“Maybe I should talk to her, see if there’s anything else she can tell us.”
“What about Calvin? Did you get a chance to talk to him?”
I swallowed the last bite of cookie and then brushed my fingertips off on my apron. “Not yet. I thought I’d go after I close up.”
“I’ll go with you,” Lucas said, returning to the counter. “I’ve got one of my guys watching the house tonight. We can go see Calvin and then grab dinner together on the way back into town. There’s a pub I’ve been wanting to try out, if you’re game.”
Gwen cooed from across the room and I shot some daggers her way. Excitement gleamed in her eyes as she started to bounce beside Hayward. “Go on, Scarlet! Live a little!”
“On one condition,” I said to Lucas.
“Okay?”
“You tell my friend, Gwen, that it isn’t a date.” I shot a “told you so” glance across the room.
Lucas craned around and then returned his gaze to mine, flashing a wide smile. “I can’t do that.”
My stomach lurched and Gwen squealed.
Chapter 11
Lucas arrived right at closing and we headed out of town. We were three miles away from the shop when Lucas glanced over at me and asked, “Does it ever drive you crazy? Seeing ghosts everywhere, I mean.”
I shrugged. “Yes and no.”
“At least it’s never quiet, huh?”
“There’s never a dull moment, that’s for sure,” I laughed. “The never-ending chatter can get annoying, but I’m pretty good at tuning it out when I need to.” I drew in a long breath and let my head drop back against the head rest. “I’ve seen ghosts for the majority of my life, so I guess, at least in some ways, I don’t really know what it would be like without them.”
“I grew up with two younger brothers,” he started. “It used to drive me nuts when they’d follow me around everywhere I went. Or pounce on me as soon as I got home from going anywhere without them. Then I joined the military and as soon as I was away from that constant pecking, I found myself missing it.” He gave a wistful smile at the road ahead. “Eventually, I settled into the lifestyle. I bonded with my brothers-in-arms, but there was always a little piece of me that missed home.”
“That makes sense,” I nodded. “I think I’d miss them if they were truly gone, but there are definitely nights when I kick them all out.”
Lucas laughed. “I’ll bet.”
“Sometimes it drives me crazy, but I’ve never wished for my power, or whatever you want to call it, to go away.” I bit my lip before I delved too deeply into the nature of the supernatural world. There were still things I wasn’t allowed to discuss. When it came to the spirit world, people were more willing to listen. The existence of witches, shifters, and were-beings was a whole other kettle of fish.
“Have you ever had someone come back, like a grandparent or friend who passed on?”
An unexpected rush of tears surged to my eyes and for a moment, my vision wavered. I shook my head. Lucas must have picked up on the change of energy and didn’t press further. Instead, he hurried to change the subject. “Why not make a business out of it?”
“Out of being a ghost whisper
er?” I wrinkled my nose at the very idea.
“Sure. It seems like the kind of thing people would throw piles of money at—the chance to speak with their lost loved ones.”
I released a slow exhale and then shook my head. “I don’t think charging people money for something like that would sit well with me. I like helping people because it’s the right thing to do, not for a paycheck.”
We stopped at a traffic light and he shrugged. “Isn’t that what most people’s jobs boil down to though? I mean, doctors, firemen, even the bag boys at the grocery store are all just doing their jobs, right?”
“Maybe so.” I frowned down at my hands and picked at my fingernails. “I don’t really have time, though. I’m swamped enough as it is and I try to confine ghosts to once-a-week meetings, and as you can see, that strategy rarely works for too long. One thing leads to another and all of a sudden I’m working on ghost problems around the clock. People have tried to pay me in the past. One time, after helping a family, I woke up and found that someone had stuffed an envelope with money and pushed it through the mail flap of my rented flat. I tried to return it, but they insisted I keep it.”
Lucas nodded and turned onto a side road that led to the highway out of town. “If I could, I’d find my grandpa. He passed away when I was twelve years old and I’ve often wished for another chance to see him, talk to him, ask for his advice.”
I gave him a sad smile. “That’s sweet.”
Silence fell between us as we traveled up the highway, and within ten minutes, we were parked outside the four-story beachfront hotel listed on the business card that was still tucked in my front pocket.
He killed the engine and glanced up at the hotel. “Well, it’s now or never.”
My heart was thumping so hard I could hear the blood rushing in my ears when we reached the door marked with the silver numbers, 332. Even with Lucas at my side as an extra confidence booster, I couldn’t be sure Calvin would let us into his room, and even if he did, I hadn’t fully come up with a plan to get the information I was after.
I shoved my hair back away from my face and my cheeks puffed out as I released a heavy sigh. “Hello, Mr. Harrison,” I muttered under my breath, forcing a smile. “I’m here to tell you—”
I shook my head. “No … I’d like to talk to you about— No, now I sound like a vacuum salesperson.”
Lucas chuckled as he lifted his fist to knock on the door. “Just relax.”
A full minute ticked by and my heart sank. “Maybe he’s out getting something to eat?”
“Maybe.”
I turned to look down the hall, as though expecting the man to materialize with a takeout bag. Instead, the security lock clicked on the other side of the door and it swung open a few inches. An anxious face peered out at us through the slit.
Lucas extended a hand. “Hi, Mr. Harrison. I’m Lucas Greene. We met when you were first brought to the set.”
Calvin cautiously reached out and shook Lucas’s hand. “I remember.”
“Sir, I do apologize for the intrusion,” Lucas continued. He gestured to me. “This is Scarlet Sanderson. She’s a consultant with the show and has a few questions about the property.”
Calvin looked over my head, out into the hallway.
“No cameras,” Lucas interjected, reading the man’s confused expression. “Can we come in? We’ll explain everything in more detail.”
I hid a smile. Ghost talk was best spoken behind closed doors.
Calvin’s face creased but he stepped back, tugged the door open wider, and ushered us inside with a wave of his hand. Lucas glanced down at me with a tentative smile. It was progress, at least.
“I’m not sure what else I can tell you, Ms. Sanderson,” Calvin started once he’d shut the door. “I didn’t even want to come out here, but the studio said that in order for them to buy the property, they would need a commitment from me to appear on-camera and tell the story of the place.”
“I just have a few questions,” I assured him.
Calvin moved deeper into the room and gestured at the mini bar. “Take anything you like; it’s all picked up by the studio.”
“Thank you,” Lucas said. He went to the fridge and pulled out a water bottle. He offered one to me but I shook my head.
“Mr. Harrison,” I started, following him into the sitting area. The room’s decor suggested it hadn’t been updated for close to twenty years. The long couch and two upholstered chairs were in fine condition, but the fabrics were outdated and slightly faded at the edges. The TV had been upgraded at some point and the sleek flat-screen was at odds with the dated furniture. Calvin sat on the couch, right in the middle, so I moved to take one of the two chairs opposite him. “I know this must all be very difficult for you. Obviously Beechwood Harbor doesn’t conjure the best memories from your past.”
Lucas cracked the top on the water bottle, interrupting my opening statement. I shot him a brief scowl. He shrugged and then crossed the room to take the chair beside mine. He crossed his legs, one ankle to the other knee, and leaned back in the chair. He looked like he was ready to watch a football game. For whatever reason, his ease irritated me.
I flexed my jaw and then continued addressing Calvin. “What made you decide to finally sell the property?”
He glanced down at the backs of his hands and I noted a subtle tan line on his ring finger. Either he’d simply forgotten to wear his ring today or maybe it was something else. Was he divorced? Widowed? I hadn’t thought to ask Lucas for any additional details about him.
When he looked back up at me, his eyes were glossy. “I’m sure you know that I originally purchased the home with my then-fiancé, Rosie. She tragically passed away before we ever got a chance to share the home together. After she passed, I tried staying there. See, I’d already given notice at the rental I lived in leading up to the wedding. Or, what would have been the wedding.” A flicker of something crossed his face and for a moment, his eyes drifted. Whatever it was, he shook it off and continued speaking. “Things didn’t work out.”
“Did anything weird happen during your time there?” I asked.
Calvin’s brow knitted together. “Weird?”
“Strange noises? Things going haywire?”
“No.” Calvin’s eyes dropped quickly to his hands and then back up again. He gave a terse shake of his head.
My eyes narrowed. Was he lying? Why?
A quick glance at Lucas out of the corner of my eye told me he’d picked up on it too. Sometimes I feared that I spent too much time with the dead, and would eventually lose my grasp on the ways of the living. Apparently my reading skills hadn’t completely left me yet.
Calvin continued, “It just never felt right. I moved into another rental property after a few months and started renting out the rooms of the house to a series of college kids.”
I sat back, trying to appear as casual as possible. “So what made you stop renting it out? Seems a house like that could be quite the money-maker. What, four, five hundred a head? I’ve seen the inside; there are several bedrooms. Why not hold onto it?”
Lucas took a deep drink from his water bottle.
Calvin shifted in his seat. “I suppose I didn’t want to deal with the upkeep anymore.”
“You suppose?” I repeated, allowing a hint of skepticism to creep into my tone.
Calvin glowered at me. “What is it that you want … Ms. Sanderson, was it? What’s your interest in this?”
I drew in a silent breath. “I’m sure you’re aware of the rumors that have followed the house. I’m fairly new in town, but when I was preparing to move, I worked with a real estate agent here in Beechwood Harbor. Naturally, the Lilac property popped up on my online search. It was just out of my budget, but from reading the listing, I was shocked it wasn’t three or four times the asking price. It’s a big house! Nice corner lot. Historic charm and details. Sure, it needed some TLC, but surely someone would have snapped it up at that price. I couldn’t figure it out. When
I asked my agent about it, she told me that the house was haunted.”
Calvin, to his credit, managed something of a surprised expression, as though the rumor was news to him. After a beat, he puffed out a titter of laughter. “That’s ridiculous. There’s no such thing as … as, ghosts!”
“So you don’t put any stock into those rumors?”
“Of course not!”
If my BS radar had tingled earlier in the conversation, it was full-on ringing now. Calvin was covering something up. I just had no idea what it was, or how to find out.
“The house was competitively priced, mostly because I wanted to get rid of the damned thing!” Calvin, cheeks red and puffed out, looked ready to jump up from his seat at any moment. I needed to tread carefully if I had any hope of getting the truth out of him.
I gave an understanding nod. “That makes sense.”
He leveled me with a harsh stare. “I don’t even live here anymore; I moved away from this dumpy little town fifteen years ago! At first, yes, I was renting the house out. When I moved out of state, I turned it over to a property management company so I could be hands-off. I wasn’t in a position to run over and fix leaks or screen potential new tenants.” Calvin paused and raked a hand through what was left of his thinning hair. Sweat beaded along his hairline. “And yes, all right, fine, there were some rumors. Really off-the-wall stuff. The property management company would call me every few months and tell me that another complaint had been filed.”
“What kind of complaints?” I asked.
He sighed and dropped his hand back to his lap. “At first it was issues with the plumbing. Leaks and clogs. They would send out a repairman, but no one could find the source of the issue. Then there was creaking and reports of weird noises. They chalked it up to the fact that at that point, it was a nearly a century old. My wife—” he stopped himself and his jaw went tight. “My ex-wife, wanted me to sell it. She had some paranoid fantasy that I was keeping it because of Rosie. She wouldn’t let it go.”
The Ghost Hunter Next Door: A Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries Book 1) Page 10