A Prickly Predicament (Mad River Mystery Series Book 1)

by Constance Barker

  By lunchtime the phone hadn’t rung a single time, no living human had set foot through the office door, not a ghost was in sight, and I was still struggling with Matt’s spreadsheet. I was as frustrated as Lee at Appomattox, and I was dying to know what was going on with the ghost hunters. I decided that on my way over to meet Nick for lunch, I would swing by the general store just to peek in and see for myself what was going on.

  The old general store was only a few doors down from the Mad River Old Town office where I worked, and the buildings were roughly the same age and built of the same materials, that is to say, wood slat walls topped off with a tin roof. A small crowd had gathered on the wooden plank sidewalk outside its front windows, mostly the same folks who had been such a nuisance in front of the Old Town business office the previous day—retired seniors, ne’er-do-wells, and others with time on their hands. I caught sight of Wendy Carpenter and steered clear of her.

  Inside the old store, Adam and Nathan were busily setting up their equipment. Or rather, Nathan was busy. Adam was grandstanding, holding court with a bevy of enchanted females, Eliana chief among them. Nathan had a tall ladder set up right in the middle of the store, near the old pot-bellied stove, and he was standing on one of the higher rungs, trying to suspend some cabling over a couple of the rafters. One of the evil-looking old logging saws that were hung from the rafters swung dangerously near his head. Hung there for historical effect, they nevertheless looked sharp enough to cause real damage.

  “I could use a hand here,” Nathan called out irritably toward Adam.

  “Sure thing, man,” Adam replied distractedly, but he made no move to help his partner. Nathan gave him an angry look and continued with his work.

  The dim interior looked the same as always, its wooden walls lined with plank shelving upon which sat all manner of goods—canned fruits and vegetables in sealed glass jars, old books, bolts of cloth, boxes of matches, bins full of nails, kerosene lanterns, stacks of dishes, tin mugs, and sundry other items. Small, neat mountains of fifty-pound bags of flour and sugar took up a good bit of the floor space, along with stacks of new washtubs, wooden boxes of soap, and livestock feed. Modern hardware items were available in the store’s old counting office in the rear of the building, which I could glimpse from where I stood at the front door. The historical stuff in the front part of the store was mainly for show, although Harriet told me that some of those products actually still sold from time to time.

  Most of the townspeople had apparently been asked to remain outside while the goings on were going on, and with the exception of the pretty young women swooning over Adam and a couple of people shopping for hardware items in the back room, only those people who actually had business to conduct or had something to do with setting up for videotaping the show were inside. I caught sight of Harriet standing near Matt and George behind the old wood-plank counter. George, who seemed fairly sober for once, was engaged in what appeared to be a serious conversation with Matt. Matt hadn’t noticed me, and I intended to keep it that way. I waved at Harriet and she waved back, then I ducked back outside.

  The crew was planning to start taping at dusk, which was patently ridiculous. Like most human beings who had never had contact with actual spirit entities, Nathan and Adam assumed that ghosts only came out at twilight. I knew for a fact that that was nonsense. Ghosts routinely show up at all hours of the day and night, at least with me they do. I never know when to expect them. One time I was taking a leisurely bath when Phineas decided to drop in. Luckily it was a bubble bath and I told him to skedaddle. I think he was more embarrassed than I was. I’m sure Jessamine gave him a good talking too. Like I said before, they don’t pay much attention to clocks, or even to the setting of the sun.

  Satisfied that I wasn’t missing much, I hurried on over to Zaharako’s to meet Nick. I felt a tiny thrill deep in my chest at the thought of Nick but shoved it down. It wouldn’t do to wear my feelings on my sleeve this soon in the game, I sternly chided myself. I intended to enjoy my lunchtime with Nick. That is, I would enjoy it if I could wrest an apology from him first.

  Zaharako’s was an old-timey ice cream shop in Mad River Old Town. Dating from the early 1900’s, it served sandwiches and lunch specials as well as ice cream, and it was the local hub for young and old alike. I loved its old ice cream tables and chairs, its long wooden bar, its aromas of sweets enjoyed in past years.

  Nick was already there when I arrived, looking as handsome as always, and he smiled and stood when he saw me. Since it was the middle of a workday, he was wearing his work suit, that is to say, his police uniform. My heart swelled with pride at the sight of it. He greeted me warmly. “What do you want for lunch?” he asked. We made small talk until our sandwiches arrived, then I cleared my throat, intending to speak my mind. He beat me to the punch. “I need to apologize to you,” he said before I could open my mouth.

  “Well, it’s about time,” I answered, but I smiled at him and kept my tone soft and warm, inviting him to say what he needed to say.

  He looked at me searchingly, then went on. “I’m sorry for getting after you about sticking your nose into police business. Not that you weren’t a big help on the last case, but I worry for your safety.”

  “I was wondering when you were going to get around to apologizing for that,” I teased him.

  He took a drink of his diet soda. “I felt bad Shelby, but you have to remember, I’m on the force now and I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  I smiled at him. He was turning out to be the kind of man I had always thought he was—honest, if humanly fallible. I can live with that. I’ll try to be the same for him, I promised myself.

  I made a show of looking at my watch. “Well, I guess I’d better get back to the office. I’ve got a spreadsheet to finish up for Matt this afternoon.” I gave him my brightest smile. “Thanks for lunch. It was great to see you.” I slipped my arms into the sleeves of my coat. “And, Nick,” I said.

  “Yeah?” he answered.

  “Thanks for the apology. It means a lot.”

  “You’re welcome, Shelby.” He rose to walk with me to the door. He seemed a little flustered. “Would you, um….” He stopped and coughed a little. “I mean, could I take you to the movies on Saturday?” He blushed appealingly.

  I grinned up at him. “Sure!” I said. “See you Saturday.”

  ~.~

  I welcomed the walk back to the office for a chance to calm my pounding heart. Breathing deeply, I savored the scents of the autumn air and admired the clear blue of the sky. I took the long way around and was calm enough to focus on my work again by the time I unlocked the office door and sat back down in front of my computer. Again, I wondered what was going on with all the town’s ghosts. I hadn’t noticed any at the general store, and they hadn’t been around the office either. Maybe they decided to head to the forest by Mad River after all.

  I didn’t have much longer to wait however. I was well into Matt’s spreadsheet, trying to remember the formula for dividing one number by another, when the first ghost finally appeared. Even for a ghost, this one looked pale. “What’s the matter?” I asked it. I peered closely, but I couldn’t tell who it was. It didn’t answer me, but instead silently regarded me from the far corner of the room near the ceiling. I shrugged and went back to my spreadsheet.

  Moments later I looked again and the too-pale ghost had disappeared. In its place were a dozen or so more familiar ghosts, spirits I had come to know and grown to love over the years. They were all talking at once, and every one of them appeared deeply distraught.

  “Have you seen him?”

  “Which way did he go?”

  “He’s bound to be scared out of his mind. Somebody try to find him.”

  “We’ve got to help him!”

  “Who? What?” I asked them. “What’s going on?” They all tried to answer me at once, and I could make no sense from their shouted words. “Won’t someone just please tell me what’s going on?” I pleaded.
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  But just like that, they all left, swooshing away through the ceiling or out through the walls, still jabbering away among themselves about whomever it was they were trying to find. Was it the too-pale ghost? I thought about asking them about it, but they were gone before the words could escape my lips.

  ~.~

  Despite the distractions, I was almost finished with Matt’s spreadsheet and felt proud of myself. It was nice and neat and looked really good, if I did say so myself. I had used color coding to make it easy to read, and I had double checked all the formulae so Matt could use it with no trouble just by plugging in new information as it came his way. It would be good to go in only a few minutes.

  I looked at my watch. Four-thirty. I had just enough time to finish the spreadsheet by five. A few minutes later, I felt as if someone were watching me, and I turned and looked back at the far corner of the room near the ceiling. There he was again, that pale ghost. Yes, it was a man, that much was clear this time. It was as if he were still assembling himself. I walked slowly toward him, trying to project a sense of calm. “It’s okay,” I told him. “Who are you?” His voice came out in a whispery croak and the single syllable he spoke was unintelligible. I peered up at him again, closer this time.

  “Adam?” I whispered in surprise. “Adam, what happened to you?” The last time I saw Adam had been at lunchtime, and then he had been vibrantly alive, certainly not a ghost. What in the world had happened? Was the attractive ghost hunter now dead? What was going on?

  At that moment, Harriet flung herself through the front door of the office and into my arms. Sobbing, she gasped, “Oh, Shelby! It’s awful!”

  “What’s awful, Harriet?” I held her, patted her back, and made soothing noises. “What’s going on? What happened?”

  “Just awful!” Harriet repeated sobbing all the harder.

  “You’re not making sense, Harriet. Calm down.”

  “I can’t.”

  Just then, Matt came tromping in. “Did she tell you?”

  “Tell me what?” I demanded. This was starting to get annoying. “Somebody please tell me what’s going on!”

  Matt flopped his massive frame down into my office chair, spilling out over the sides of it. He hung his hands down between his knees and stared at them. He seemed a beaten man. “Adam Gaunt is dead,” he said.

  I tried to look surprised.

  Chapter Four: Bloodbath Aftermath

  I felt torn.

  Harriet needed me, but I was itching to find out what was really going on.

  Well, who Harriet really needed was our mom, but Mom was nowhere to be found. Every other earthbound spirit in Mad River contacted me on a regular basis, but not Mom. Why was Mom so hard to find? Didn’t she want me to find her? It kind of hurt me. Like maybe she was purposely avoiding me. Not to mention that in her absence I needed to fill in as parent figure for Harriet, as if I really could fill Mom’s shoes. I didn’t feel up to the task. And then there was the fact that I needed our mom now, too.

  From Harriet and Matt I learned the gruesome details. During one of the early videotaping sessions in the old general store, Adam had been mangled in grisly fashion when three of the old evil-looking logging saws had come crashing down all at once right on top of him, giving him no chance at survival at all. According to Harriet, the store was literally a bloody mess; it would never be the same again.

  So there I was, wanting to run off to the general store, track down the local spirits, and learn whatever I could, while Harriet trembled in my arms, her clothes all spattered with blood. I did what I knew I had to do. I walked Harriet home, got her into her nightgown, and made her a cup of chamomile tea. While I was tucking a blanket around her legs, I felt a ghostly wisp brushing lightly against my calves. I looked down to see our current ghost cat, trying to be comforting, just as a living cat might do. I smiled down at her, and she seemed to smile back at me.

  I sat down in a chair near Harriet’s, and the ghost cat, a gray tabby, jumped right up into my lap. I tried to stroke her fur, but of course my hands slid right through her. She had shown up in our home a few months earlier, appearing from time to time since then out of nowhere and disappearing again in similar fashion without warning. “Why is it that you keep hanging around, little kitty,” I asked her, “when all the other ghost cats who have ever shown up here have slipped in and out of our lives and never stayed for long?”

  Harriet couldn’t see her, of course, but she knew who I was talking to. “Is it that ghost cat again?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I answered. The cat reached up one paw and softly stroked my cheek, unlike anything I had ever known any other cat to do, living or dead. What a sweet little kitty she was. My heart melted. “Will you keep an eye on our Harriet while I run out for a bit?” I asked it. Almost imperceptibly, the cat nodded, and I was comforted. Harriet sighed softly as if somehow, she, too, were comforted by the ghost cat’s presence.

  “I’ll only be gone a little while,” I said to Harriet. “Will you be okay?”

  “I think so,” my sister answered.

  “Can I get anything for you before I go?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, but she gave me a worried look. “Just be safe, Shelby,” she told me. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  I hugged her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Try not to worry. I’m just going to ask around and see what I can find out.”

  “I know how you are. You can’t help yourself.” She smiled up at me. “I’m feeling better. Go do what you have to do.”

  ~.~

  By the time I made it over to the general store, night had fallen, but the place was brightly lit and a hive of activity. Only the cops were allowed inside, of course, in case the incident turned out to be a crime, and crime tape was strung across all the doors and windows. I found Nick right away and turned Harriet’s bloodied slacks and blouse over to him as possible evidence. “Thanks,” he said, and placed the clothing into an evidence bag.

  “What do you know so far?” I asked him.

  “Not much,” he replied. “Those saws had been hanging there for years, maybe decades. Why all three came down at once, at the precise moment they did and in the way they did, could be coincidental.”

  “But maybe not?” I asked.

  “We don’t know,” he said, then abruptly pulled his phone out of his pocket and put it up to his ear. He spoke into it. “Sure, chief,” he said. “Be right there.” He gave me a quick nod, ducked under the crime tape, and slipped into the general store. That was the last I saw of Nick for a while.

  Calinda and Matt stood together on the street in front of the general store. They both looked worried. George was nowhere in sight. Maybe he’s down at the station giving his statement, I thought. He was the owner of the store and one of the chief witnesses, after all. It suddenly dawned on me that Harriet, too, was a witness. She hated being in the spotlight. Unfortunately she might have to be for a bit.

  “I told you not to invite those two bozos,” Calinda was saying to Matt as I walked toward them. “Now we’ll be lucky if any tourists show up for reenactment season, not to mention during the rest of the year.”

  “I’m not worried about that,” Matt retorted.

  “What are you worried about?” I asked as I walked up.

  “Hi, Shelby. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be home with your sister?” Calinda greeted me.

  “Harriet’s fine, Calinda,” I answered her.

  I repeated my question. “Matt, what is it you’re so worried about?”

  “If it was an accident, then not only the general store, but all of Mad River could have a safety problem. They’ve already called the safety inspectors.”

  “I see what you mean. These buildings and everything in them are all really old,” I began.

  “Don’t remind me,” he said. “We probably should have paid more attention to safety all along—” He stopped himself and gave me a stern look. “But don’t you ever quote me o
n that, young lady,” he said.

  “Don’t worry, Matt,” I said. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

  “Shelby, don’t you understand?”

  “What, Matt?”

  “They could shut us down,” he said. “If we have safety issues, especially major ones, this could be very bad for Mad River Old Town.”

  Calinda chimed in. “Matt,” she said, “I’m usually the one to imagine the worst-case scenarios, but this time, you’re the one going down that long dark road.”

  He looked at her in surprise, and she smiled at him. It was the warmest look I had seen the two of them exchange in a very long time.

  “C’mon, honey,” she teased him. “Snap out of it. You know how when I imagine the worst you tell me things won’t be half that bad?”

  He nodded. “Yes, and they never are, are they?”

  “That’s right,” she said, “and I’m telling you now: things probably won’t be half that bad.”

  “That’s right, Matt,” I said. “You might get a citation you’ll need to respond to, and maybe have to repair some things, but Mad River will survive.”

  He didn’t seem all that reassured, but he pulled himself together. “That’s probably true,” he said. “Besides, the cameraman—what’s his name?—says he has evidence ghosts did it, says he caught it all on video.”

  “His name’s Nathan,” Calinda said. “Really? He caught the whole thing on video?”

  “He says it shows a ghost did it,” Matt repeated.

  “The video shows a ghost?” I tried to keep incredulity out of my voice. The spirits I knew in Mad River wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing. Not even cantankerous Josiah would want to kill someone. At least, I didn’t think he would, but even if he did, ghosts have a difficult time handling physical objects. Their hands just slip right though things, as my hands had slid through the ghostly gray tabby earlier this evening. Our two planes, though closely aligned, are quite separate.