by Angie Fox
Ellis reached the foyer first and swung open the front door like it had never been locked.
“How?” I stammered.
“Who cares?” he declared, seeing me out and then slamming the door behind us both.
Chapter 18
He drove us both to my place. I wasn’t in any shape to pilot the land yacht.
“That door just…opened,” I said as we rattled down the hill in his police cruiser. “Why did it open for us this morning?”
“I don’t know,” Ellis ground out, keeping his grip on the wheel and his eyes on the road, “but we’re not going back.”
“We’re not.” I planted my back firmly against the seat. That was the last straw. I’d had enough. To heck with ghost hunting and curses and murderous spirits. I’d get a part-time job at the cleaners, and at the library, and perhaps at the gas station, and maybe the coffee shop. Nobody at The Frothy Coffee would try to kill me. I’d cobble together a living and never have to worry about seeing ghosts again because I wasn’t even setting foot in the town funhouse next Halloween.
We pulled up to my place and found Suds standing in the driveway.
He took his bowler hat off and waved it when he saw us. I had Ellis cut the engine before we drove straight through him.
The ghost frowned at me, but I found it hard to care. Ellis had been right. Not all ghosts liked me, and right now, I didn’t like them so much either.
Ellis killed the engine. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
“That’s okay,” I said, giving him a kiss goodbye. “Suds is outside. I’m going to see what he wants and then head in.”
“All right,” he said, drawing me close. “I’ll call you this afternoon to check up.”
We shared one last kiss before I let Ellis go.
“It’s about time,” Suds said before I even had a chance to open the car door all the way.
“I’ve been busy,” I said to him. I turned to wave as Ellis drove away.
“You screwed up big,” Suds barked. “Frankie’s almost spent.”
Frankie.
I couldn’t imagine what this adventure had done to him. He’d never lent me his power for so long. “Where is he?”
The poor ghost had lost his feet, his legs, his torso and his arms on regular ghost hunts, ones where we’d turned the power off after several hours. His bits and pieces always came back when he rested, but I’d never pushed him so hard before.
“This way,” Suds said, his manner stern. “I was just about ready to visit you in that god-awful place and make you come back.”
“I wish you would have,” I said, rounding the house. Maybe Suds could have gotten us out of there.
Or he could have gotten hurt.
Frankie sat under the apple tree in the backyard. At least, from the position of his disembodied head, I assumed he lounged. On second thought, it appeared as if he leaned rather awkwardly.
“Oh, Frankie,” I said, rushing to see what I could do.
Part of his chin had gone missing and his cheekbones caved at a worrying angle. His forehead was entirely see-through and it appeared as if his face were ready to collapse. “I’m so sorry,” I said, crouching next to him.
“So am I,” he said, his cheek plastered against the hard bark of the tree, as if he needed it to keep him from sliding down.
“Don’t worry,” I said, fighting the urge to smooth the sweaty hair off his forehead, wishing I could ease his pain. I’d never seen him so disheveled. “I quit. I’m never doing this again.”
“You what?” He flopped his head back onto the tree and glared up at me.
“I’m going to go inside and call Lee and tell him I’m not a ghost hunter anymore. We’re done.” Frankie would be off the hook. Lee would be glad to have everyone safe, and now I was as well. It just wasn’t worth it.
The gangster worked his jaw. “Let me get this straight,” he ground out. “You drained me…for nothing?”
I glanced back to Suds, who stood behind me. “Can you give us a second?”
Suds rolled his eyes.
“Listen, doll,” Frankie spat, trying to straighten his head, which lolled alarmingly to the side. He was going to tip over at this rate. “I once drove a shipment of pistols and hooch from Cleveland to San Francisco on a half tank of gas and a prayer. And did I quit? No!”
He wasn’t making any sense. “You couldn’t possibly have done that,” I said, due to the physics and the fact that I couldn’t imagine the gangster praying over illegal gun and alcohol shipments. Then again, this was Frankie…
Frankie grew so angry he shimmered. “That’s not the point!” he yelled, making me fall backward onto my butt. His lip curled in pleasure at my shock. “You are going to get out there and do your job. I didn’t lose my entire body so you can quit before we get paid.”
Of course it was about the cash. The jerk. “Some things are worth more than money,” I told him, climbing to my feet.
“Name one!” he shouted.
Like I was going to debate him when he was in this mood. “You’re not going to change my mind on this, so you might as well disconnect me and start gathering your energy back.”
He slammed his head against the tree so hard that he disappeared straight into the trunk. Served him right.
I turned and almost walked straight into Suds. “Take care of him,” I said, stepping around the ghost.
Suds shoved his hands in his pockets. “I always do,” he said, gliding next to me. “Now when are you gonna start?”
That was rich. I turned to face him. “I let your entire gang take over my back porch for Frankie.” Frankie’s body would return in time if he took care of himself. I looked around at the empty backyard and porch, devoid of whiskey bottles, flappers, and gambling tables. “Where did everybody go?”
Suds stiffened. “The Eighteenth Infantry is hosting war games again. They like to reenact their battle and see what went wrong. Our guys play the other side because they like to shoot things.”
Seemed they’d taken the party with them. But Suds had stuck around for Frankie.
It softened my annoyance. Somewhat. “He’ll be okay,” I assured the ghost.
An awful trumpet sound bleated from my back porch.
“Frankie?” I asked, seeing his disembodied head lying cheek-down next to my daisy pot. He gave the instrument another blast, making it doubly clear he had about as much musical talent as a dying giraffe.
“I still have lips. I’m going to play the trumpet!” he declared.
Suds and I exchanged a glance.
“All day!” Frankie added, bleating the trumpet again. “I’m not turning your power off, either,” he said as we approached his concert porch. “If you don’t want to ghost hunt, you can listen to my concert.”
“How long until his lips give out?” I asked Suds when we’d reached the back steps. “Or until someone takes the trumpet away?”
“Fats McGee is passed out in the pond,” Suds said, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do. “I have no idea when he’ll wake up.”
Well, it wasn’t as if I was going to swim down to find him. “Frankie,” I said, stopping over the prone head of my friend. Enough was enough.
He glared at me. “You going back to Rock Fall? Because Suds is going to play after me and he’s not as good.”
“Let me think about it,” I told him, intending to do nothing of the sort. I mean, how long could Fats McGee sleep? Especially with that racket.
I went inside and greeted my skunk, to the tune of the worst trumpet blaring I’d ever heard.
I fixed a lovely blueberry and banana salad for Lucy and one for myself, to the out-of-tune bleats of “Reveille.”
I could outlast the ghost.
Lucy and I read a book, or tried, as I realized Frankie’s lungs were truly immortal.
I never imagined I’d grow to hate the sound of “Sweet Georgia Brown.”
I threw open the back door. “That’s it!” Frankie’s head lolled on my porch
, with a cocky grin too stubborn to fade. “You win. I’ll go back!”
His grin widened. “I’ll even go with you.”
Joy. “Now stop it. Get some rest,” I ordered. “It’s going to be a focused, busy, absolutely terrifying day tomorrow.”
And I had no idea what I was going to tell Ellis.
Chapter 19
The next morning, I rocked on my porch swing and tried not to think of the indecencies that might have occurred in that very spot over the past few nights. It was hard to think of much else with Frankie hovering to my left, just above a pot of geraniums.
He’d taken back his power after we’d come to our agreement last night, and I was glad to see he’d rested enough to regain his facial features and the loosened tie at his neck.
“Quit your lollygagging. Time to go.” He lowered his chin. “You can’t put it off forever, doll.”
“I’m having breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day.” I fished a blueberry out of my bowl and chewed slowly. “We should also wait until you’ve recovered more.”
He huffed. “Nice try. We’ll leave in five.”
Hardly. “Ellis dropped me off here last night. I don’t have a car.” I selected another blueberry.
Frankie raised a brow. “Ellis and some other guy returned your car last night when you were asleep. It’s parked out front.”
“Dang.” That was what I got for keeping an extra set of keys at my boyfriend’s place. And for dating a considerate guy. “You don’t understand,” I said to the gangster. “Rock Fall is dangerous. The house is haunted to the gills. I brought my old professor in to look at some journals, and now he’s dead. At least one ghost is trying to kill me. A crazed, cursed archaeologist attacked me yesterday when I came in from the garden.” I sat up straighter. “What if the garden has something to do with it? We should walk the property again, maybe find Tobias.” We could at least go back to the burned-out arbor and talk to the gardener. We wouldn’t have to go in the mansion or be trapped anywhere.
“I like this. You’re thinking.” Frankie prodded, “Let’s go.”
I stood. “All right. Let me call Ellis.” I’d ask him to join us, preferably without dwelling too much on my dramatic change of heart. I headed for the wall phone in the kitchen, depositing my blueberry bowl next to the kitchen island for Lucy. She ran for the sweet, juicy fruit, took one look at Frankie following me, and made a mad retreat for the futon in the parlor.
“She can’t even stand to be in the same room with my head?” he balked.
“They say pets know,” I mused, just to get his goat. Meanwhile, I dialed Ellis at home. After a quick exchange of pleasantries, I said it outright. “We have to go back to Rock Fall.”
“Why? What happened?” he asked, on instant alert.
“Nothing awful.” Yet. “I think I know why the ghost was after me. I might have found something in the garden.”
“Okay,” he said, thinking. “I can’t go today. I’m working. In fact, I should have left already.”
I wrapped the long phone cord around my arm, twisting it to go with the churning in my gut. “The thing is, I can’t wait.” It wasn’t just the threat of Frankie going to town again on his trumpet.
Last night, I’d been scared. I still was. But I didn’t know what to do about it. Now, I really wanted to retrace my steps to revisit those gardens. There might have been something I missed. I needed to know why the ghost was after me.
Besides, Charlotte had shown up at my house before. What was to keep Robert from doing the same?
“I’ll take Frankie,” I said, unwrapping the phone cord from my arm, stretching it as far as it would go. “And don’t worry. If something happens, I’ll call the police.”
“I am the police,” Ellis said dryly.
“Right. I’ll call you.”
“With what? We soaked our phones last night.”
“Dang.” I’d forgotten. I hated to go in with no way to call for help.
I could almost hear him putting the solution together on the other end of the line. “Stop by the drugstore on the way out,” he said. “I’d planned on taking you to dinner last night, but since that didn’t work out, I’ll treat you to a disposable phone today.”
He always gave the best gifts. “That’s even better than roses.” At least for a girl like me.
“How did I end up here?” he wondered aloud.
I wound the cord around my finger. “You love it,” I teased.
“You’re lucky I do.” The smile in his voice said it all.
“I’ll be careful,” I promised. Ellis liked to protect me, but it also meant a lot that he trusted me to be smart and take care of myself as well.
“I’m counting on it,” he replied. “And, Verity, I spoke with Duranja this morning. The preliminary lab report showed no known poisons in that whiskey.”
“That’s good, right?” I hated to think of Professor Grassino dying that way.
“I don’t know what to think. I ordered further testing. Just—” I could tell he was holding back “—watch yourself.”
“I will,” I promised before I let him go.
* * *
Sure enough, the land yacht waited out on my front drive. He’d even filled the gas tank.
“You’d better marry that one,” Frankie said.
“Ha.” If only I hadn’t almost married his brother last summer.
I drove us to Jackson Pharmacy, and after a quick stop there, I activated my new disposable phone and slipped it into my bag.
It had been a remarkably simple transaction, except for the part where veteran cashier Velma Thrasher didn’t understand why a young man like Ellis would have a purchase like that waiting for a sweet thing like myself.
Worry about what you can control.
Part of me couldn’t believe I was actually going back to Rock Fall. And that Frankie was coming with me. I steered north down Main Street.
This time, it would work out. It had to.
“The attacks started after I was in the garden with Tobias,” I told the gangster.
His head rested on my passenger seat, like it had been lopped off. “This make you squirm?” he asked, in a playful mood now that he’d gotten his way.
“Cute,” I said, which made him frown.
His head rose off the seat back to its normal position, as if he had a body. “Don’t get on me for being slaphappy. I’m just glad to be getting out of the house,” he said, watching out the window as we entered the ritzy old neighborhood below the looming cliff.
“Yes, you’ve been alone and lonely these past few days,” I mused.
He couldn’t hold the act for long and broke out into a grin. “I won thirty g’s.”
“I need to take you to Vegas,” I said, only half kidding.
He made a noncommittal sound. “Lost thirty-three.”
Of course he did.
But Frankie wasn’t done. “If a Bruiser McKinley comes knocking, you don’t know where I am,” he instructed.
“Maybe I don’t want you lending me your power again,” I told him, approaching the road to the mansion.
“You’re stuck with it today,” he said.
Moments later, I felt it begin to prickle along my skin and settle over me like a blanket of electric sparks. In a million years, I didn’t think I’d ever get used to the feeling. “Thanks,” I gritted out.
The ghost grew pensive as my ancient car dipped and struggled up the hill toward Rock Fall. This was it.
The mansion loomed silently as we passed, its windows eerily dark. Not that I looked too closely. I didn’t want to see anyone looking back.
We drove around the rear of the property toward Lee’s house and parked in his driveway. I didn’t see his car or any sign of him.
“I hope he’s all right,” I said, seeing no sign of life inside.
I killed the engine and got out of the car.
“What? Is this a social call?” Frankie protested.
No. I simply
wanted to begin this investigation as far from the main house as possible. This seemed to be a safe zone. Although now that I was here, I was worried about Lee.
“I’m going to go check on him,” I said, making my way up the drive and toward the front porch.
Lee spent a lot of time in the garden, and if he’d seen something he shouldn’t, he could be in real danger as well. I sighed. At least he wasn’t tuned in to the ghostly plane like me. It would be harder for a ghost to hurt him.
But not impossible. Poor Professor Grassino hadn’t even believed in ghosts until shortly before he died. And I doubted the spirits in that house had channeled the dead while they had been among the living.
Except, perhaps, for the governess. I wondered if her ties to the occult had spared her.
I knocked on the door. “Lee?”
“When was the last time you heard from him?” Frankie asked.
“I saw him yesterday.” A lot had happened since then.
“Lee?” I knocked harder. Still, no one answered. I stepped off the porch. “Let’s hope he’s out.”
I found it strange that he hadn’t called to ask what had transpired with Ellis and me in the house yesterday, especially given how worried Lee had been about us going there in the first place. Something was definitely wrong.
“You ready to go?” Frankie’s head prodded.
“I am.” We’d continue our investigation and hope for the best. “If Lee comes back, he’ll see that we’re here.” I stopped to gather Frankie’s urn and my bag from the backseat.
“The faster we solve this, the faster we get paid,” Frankie said, keeping his eye on the prize. I had to admit, if the gangster had one gift, it was tenacity.
“Just remember, you can’t use the money to pay off Bruiser McKinley,” I said, approaching Lee’s lovely garden and the tangle of vegetation beyond. “He’s going to want some cash he can spend on the ghostly plane.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” he concluded, drifting next to me. “I’m teaching you persistence, a valuable life skill. And once we have the dough, you can thank me by doing some updates to that ancestral home of yours.”