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Christmas Spirit (The Middle-aged Ghost Whisperer Book 1): (Ghost Cozy Mystery series)

Page 7

by Morgana Best


  “No, not at all,” I said hurriedly. “I haven’t spoken to the police.”

  Amanda peered at me, and then shrugged. “No one believes me, but I know my brother didn’t kill himself.”

  I nodded. “Are you sure you don’t know any more than you already told me?”

  “Yes, of course. Why would you say that?” Her tone was defensive. Before I had a chance to answer, she handed me a white business card. It featured the green New South Wales police logo, and had the name of Detective Stanfield Kelly, along with two phone numbers. No doubt the landline was the police station number, and the other, his cell phone number. I took the card.

  “Can you get a reading from it?” She leaned forward, her expression eager.

  I shook my head. “Like I told you last time, I can’t do psychometry. I only get feelings from deceased people, not from inanimate objects.”

  “But you wanted to go to my brother’s cabin to see if you could pick up vibes there,” she protested.

  “That was in the hope that your brother would come through. I can get a general sense, such as past emotions from a place, but I can’t get readings from objects.”

  Still, I tried. I closed my eyes and held the card loosely between my forefinger and thumb. I could sense something from it, but nothing that jumped out at me. No sense of danger, or foreboding. Finally I opened my eyes and shook my head.

  “Nothing?” Amanda said, disappointed.

  “Nothing clear,” I said.

  “What do you mean nothing clear? Was there something? Does he know something?” her tone was urgent.

  That seemed like a strange question to me. I shook my head. “I can’t tell. Nothing comes to the forefront. There’s just a bit of noise. Not real noise, of course, more mental noise. It’s not a clear message. It usually isn’t, but sometimes there’s something louder than the rest of the noise. But with this, there isn’t.”

  Right then the waitress returned with a latté for me. I cautiously took a sip. Thankfully, it was soy, after all. It was, however, lukewarm and very weak.

  I didn’t suspect Amanda of willfully lying to me. However, I thought she might be scared and thus holding onto some information that she thought was going to get her hurt, or worse. And if the man who had killed Alum was asking her questions, there was probably a reason. I tried once more. “Do you know anything? Anything at all that the people involved wouldn’t want you to know?”

  Amanda shook her head. “No, I’ve told you.” She wrung her hands.

  “Then you’re fine,” I said. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “But my brother was killed by these people, wasn’t he? He was talking with them. If anyone thinks I know what he knew, I could be in danger. I’m taking comfort from the fact that the detective came to see me. They must think it wasn’t suicide, surely, or why bother to ask me questions?”

  I shrugged.

  “It’s a shame you didn’t get any vibes from the cabin,” she continued. “You didn’t, did you?”

  I sighed. “Amanda, I don’t get vibes, as you put it. Sometimes I might, but that’s uncommon. I connect with spirits, people who have passed on. I’m not a general psychic. I’m a clairvoyant medium.”

  It was Amanda’s turn to shrug. I had long since learned that people had no idea about the difference—they lumped all of us into the same category. “I can’t stand going to the cabin now,” she said, “despite the fact I do have some good memories.”

  “Sometimes that’s all we have left of the people we love,” I said softly. “You just have to hold those memories close to you.”

  Amanda nodded, but her face was devoid of emotion. “It’s not like that for you, though, is it? You’ll always have more. You can talk to the dead.”

  “I can’t talk with them,” I corrected her, even though I now knew I could see and speak with Alum. “I just sense them.”

  “Still, if you lose someone, it’s not as terrible for you.”

  I shook my head. “Spirits of the deceased choose whether or not to come through to speak to me. It’s not like I have a direct link to the other side. I can’t speak to anyone at will. It’s never my choice or my decision.”

  “So have you felt my brother?” Amanda asked. “Sensed him?”

  “At the cabin, I think I did.”

  Amanda leaned forward. “I thought you said he didn’t speak to you there?”

  I was getting tired of the questions. I had gone to the café to question Amanda, but she was the one questioning me. “No, Amanda, your brother didn’t speak to me,” I said firmly. “All I got was a general sense of his presence. He seemed angry, I think.”

  Amanda frowned and pursed her lips. It seemed to me that she was searching my face for a lie.

  Without warning, I felt the presence of a spirit. Waves of betrayal and anger washed over me. I reached out, but the spirit did not quite come through. Sometimes I received impressions from spirits like this, and they were difficult. One sentence came through: Things are not as they seem. And as quickly as he had come, he left.

  I knew it was Wayland. I had rarely encountered the spirits of those who had been murdered—apart from Alum, of course, but he was entirely different—and generally, murdered spirits were difficult to reach. Wayland, however, was more difficult than those previously. In the short time he appeared, I had sensed betrayal, hurt, and anger.

  Amanda leaned forward. “You felt something, didn’t you?”

  I nodded. “It was just a flash, a strong sense. It was your brother.”

  Her mouth fell open. “What did he say?” she asked urgently.

  “I just had flashes from him—feelings, anger mainly, and betrayal. He was murdered, for sure.” I looked at her to see how she would react. I didn’t want to upset her.

  Amanda’s face was hard to read. She spun her coffee cup around a few times before speaking. “And that’s all?”

  I nodded.

  “I think the police must know he was murdered, too,” she said. “The cop was mean, though, asking me the same thing over and over again, like I knew something.”

  “Look, Amanda, if I can speak frankly,” I said, “are you sure that you don’t know anything else? If your brother was murdered, then I’m worried that you might be in danger, too, though you would only be in danger if you knew something,” I added.

  “I seriously don’t know anything,” she said rather crossly. “Why do you keep asking me if I do?”

  I shrugged. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you. If you don’t know anything, it will all be fine. It sounds as if the police have found evidence that your brother was murdered, so they’re interviewing everyone. They must realize now that it wasn’t a suicide.”

  She nodded and looked away.

  I finished my coffee. “I should get back,” I said. “I’ve got a house full of guests.” I was unable to suppress a shudder at the thought of Luke.

  I stood up and put money on the bill, just as Amanda reached out and caught my arm. “You’re not going to quit until you figure this all out, are you?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’m not,” I promised her.

  I drove back home, but took a detour to the grocery store to buy more wine for Christina. I didn’t want to enable her, but she herself would drive to get it, and she shouldn’t drive in her state. I bought a chocolate bar and six bottles of low alcohol wine.

  When I walked back to my car, Alum was leaning on the trunk. I smiled, not daring to speak. If I spoke to thin air it would be all around town before nightfall. He materialized next to me after I got into the car. “How did it go?” Alum asked. “It’s hard when I can’t speak to you at your house. And six bottles of wine? Have they driven you to drink?”

  “Well, yes,” I said, turning the key in the ignition, “but this is for Christina.” I turned off the engine. “I’d better fill you in before I get home. I just have to eat this first. I’m ravenous.” I took a large bite of the chocolate bar.

 
; Alum looked on longingly.

  “Oh, is this rude?” I said. “I’m sorry. You don’t eat.”

  “I don’t need to, but it’s something I miss,” Alum said. “Maybe it will be different when I go on, instead of sticking around here.”

  The thought of him going filled me with sadness. I had grown accustomed to his company. “I can stop,” I said, folding the wrapper back over it.

  “No, don’t let me stop you. Just don’t mind if I stare at it,” he said.

  I laughed, and quickly filled him in on the time with Amanda.

  “So things aren’t what they seem?” Alum asked me.

  I nodded. “That’s basically what I got. What do you think it means?”

  Alum held up his hands. “Hey, you’re the expert when it comes to things like that,” he said. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

  I took a small bite of the chocolate bar, and chewed it quickly. “But you’re the expert when it comes to solving murders.”

  “It’s not much to go on,” Alum said, “and I’m not used to taking words a clairvoyant gets from dead people as evidence, so I’m not sure what I think, or what it all means. At least not yet.”

  “I think Amanda will be fine, but I’m not so sure she’s telling me the whole truth, especially after getting that reading.”

  Alum nodded. “We might be able to turn you into a detective yet.”

  I paused with the chocolate bar halfway to my mouth. “That’s the last thing I want,” I said. “This is too much craziness for me.”

  “You talk to dead people. How could this be too much craziness?”

  “I talk to one dead person. You’re the only one I see and talk to.”

  Alum grinned. “You know what I meant.”

  “Why do you think your old partner was talking to her?”

  “Same reason you just went to her,” Alum said. “To see if she knows anything. I have to say that if you aren’t convinced, he probably won’t be. Stanfield is a pretty good cop. Well, he was, up until the point he shot me.”

  Alum spoke with an unmistakable note of bitterness in his voice. I could tell he had at one time really trusted and liked his partner, but Stanfield Kelly had betrayed his trust, more so than anyone would ever think their friend could. Being murdered was a horrific thing, but being killed by a friend brought with it a whole different level of horror.

  “Listen, I’m your partner now,” I said, trying to make him feel a little better, or at least as good as I could make a ghost feel. “We can do this together. I know you’ll help me, and I’ll help you. That’s my promise to you. We can do this, but we can only do it together. Don’t forget that.”

  “I won’t,” Alum said. His face was set in a scowl, as though he was thinking of something very unpleasant.

  “What’s that all face about?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re acting weird,” I told him.

  “I’m a phantom,” he said. “A ghost. I’m allowed to act weird, don’t you think? You take all of this too calmly,” he said with a grin.

  I was relieved to see him smile again. “You aren’t the first ghost I’ve known,” I said, smiling too. “You’re the first I can see and really talk to, but not the first I’ve sensed. This is old news for me.”

  “Well, it’s all really new for me, so cut me a break, will you? I promise; we’ll do this together. I know I can trust you. I do trust you. You’re my only hope. I’m here, stuck here, because I can’t let this go. You’re the only person I can trust to help me.”

  “Just make sure you don’t forget that,” I said. “You really can trust me. I don’t have anything to gain, but I do have a lot to lose. Treat me like a partner?”

  “You got it, partner,” Alum said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I can’t look at that chocolate bar any longer. It’s kind of like seeing an old girlfriend.”

  I smiled, but then Alum was gone. I was left to wonder why his mood had suddenly changed, and why it had changed so drastically. I wondered if he too knew something I didn’t. If so, that would make far too many people in my life who knew what was going on, while leaving me in the dark.

  Chapter 14

  “Oh my goodness! Look who it is!” Constance hissed excitedly in my ear as she gestured toward the doorway. “Don’t stare, Prudence! Just glance that way. No, Prudence, now you look like a mugger. Subtlety is not your thing!”

  “Constance, please just tell me who I’m looking at,” I said with as much patience as I could muster. I gazed over the crowd of strangers. Truth be told, I couldn’t tell one from another. I couldn’t even remember the names of any of the twenty or so people Constance had already pointed out.

  Constance sighed with open envy. “The one wearing the Louis Vuitton dress! Sylvia Hawkins. She’s a famous businesswoman. Of course, I used to date her brother, who was even more famous. And right beside her is the mining magnate, Todd Ross. He’s been remarried three times, and always to a younger model. It was quite the scandal. I wonder if he’s eyeballing Sylvia for wife number four?”

  I sighed and looked around the room as Constance pointed out one person after another. I was out of place in the glitz and glam at the Tamworth Christmas Ball. The tables were lined with shimmering table clothes, sporting fresh gold and silver flowers and elaborate candlelight centerpieces. The champagne-colored balloons and spiraling streamers that dangled lazily overhead shimmered with glitter that drifted down to settle on the guests’ hair and shoulders.

  The scene was too elegant and over the top for me to feel comfortable. I preferred the orderly crowds of my shows, not a sea of strangers milling around. If Constance had not bought me a ticket, I would have been at home watching television with the others. Hmm. Constance or Luke? That was a hard call. Perhaps this party wasn’t so bad after all.

  Constance jabbed me in the ribs. “Prudence! Did you hear me?” She gestured to a well dressed young man who was chatting enthusiastically with a pair of ladies. “That is Paul Harris, the famous actor. His face was on the billboard we passed driving here.”

  I did my best to look interested, but this was not my scene at all. These people dripped with jewels and Rolexes and custom tailored clothing lines, most of which were probably imported. I, on the other hand, was wearing a three-year-old gown I had acquired from the Target store bargain bin. My jewelry was 24-karat-fake zircons and cut glass, and I had not worn these heels since my bachelorette party. I had neither the desire nor the pocketbook to keep up with high-end fashion.

  “Go talk to him,” Constance commanded me, trying to shoo me toward the young man. “You’re exactly his type. If you land him, you’ll be set for life! You can even quit that silly job of yours.”

  My mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”

  Constance looked at me, a picture of innocence. I didn’t know whether her expression was real or well practiced.

  “Okay, for one,” I continued, “he’s got to be half my age. For another, I happen to like my business. What’s wrong with it?”

  Constance smirked. “Oh nothing! That is, not if you’re into being a sideshow attraction. It takes up so much of your time that there’s no way you’ll ever get ahead in society.” She tilted her head. “But then again, it might work for you. Harris happens to like eccentric stuff like that, and older women. You’ll at least get his attention.”

  “I’m not that desperate.” I forced down a wave of irritation and took a tiny sip of my champagne. I needed more than a tiny sip to handle Constance one-on-one like this, but I was trying not to over indulge, especially after the Christmas Eve incident where I had dumped my woes and frustrations on the handsome ghost who was haunting my place. The holidays always tampered with my better judgment.

  “You should be that desperate,” Constance said patiently. “Beggars can’t be choosers at our age, Prudence. You should be happy that a hot young stud with the biggest payroll in our county might find you sexy!”

  I made a face and shu
ddered. “No, Constance. No! You have no idea how gross that sounds right now. That is twenty shades of never-in-a-million-years.”

  “You’re making it way more complicated than it really is,” Constance huffed.

  “Then you go snag him!” I gazed around for an escape from this conversation. Constance was like a dog with a bone once she got ideas like this in her head. “Just please don’t tell me any details later.”

  “You’re so impossible, Prudence.” Constance rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, walking off to mingle with ‘her people.’

  I watched Constance walk away, and saw Alum materialize a few yards away. I was glad he hadn’t appeared directly in front of me, as that would have made me jump.

  Concern was etched on his face. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded slightly, hoping the gesture was not too obvious in the crowd. I carefully wriggled my way through the milling crowd to the relative quiet of a side hallway. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly in a sigh of relief. “Nothing chocolate mint ice cream won’t cure later.”

  Alum frowned. “Prudence, I know you have your reasons, but that woman is as toxic as it gets.”

  “She means well.” I didn’t know who I was trying to convince, Alum or myself.

  Alum looked like he wanted to argue, but instead he shrugged. “You look lovely tonight, by the way.”

  “Thank you.” My face burned at the sudden compliment. “You look pretty good yourself.”

  Alum grinned and he pretended to show off his ensemble. He looked the same as ever, still appearing in the street clothes that he had died in. “Latest in underworld fashion.”

  I smiled. I could imagine him sauntering through the crowd in a perfectly fitting tuxedo. Had he been alive, he would have turned a few heads.

  “I think I’ll stick with what I have. If it’s not broke, don’t fix it.” Alum shook his head. “Besides, I’ve done my time at these sorts of events. I always found them too stuffy.”

 

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