Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 04 - Three Little Ghosts

by Janet McNulty

  Unfortunately rest and relaxation was not in the cards. When Greg and I arrived back at my apartment, we found Tiny waiting for us.

  “Off on another mystery?” said Tiny as we walked in.

  How is it everybody knows what I’m up to? “You could say that.”

  “I stopped by yesterday afternoon to see if you found a way to help those three ghosts, but you weren’t here. Jackie let slip that you had gone to Utah.”

  “Am I in trouble?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” replied Tiny, “For not taking me with you. At least you took him,” he pointed at Greg, “But you should have taken me as well. For protection.”

  “I can protect her,” spouted Greg.

  “Yeah,” said Tiny, “Anyway, your homework is finished.”

  My ears perked up. “Finished?”

  “Yeah, Sombrero did it. The guy has two PhDs.”

  That was news to me. I never would have pegged him as having gone to college.

  “And he rides with a biker gang,” said Greg a bit too loudly.

  Tiny looked a bit affronted. “He got tired of the typical office life. Moved here and became part of my gang. It’s a long story. I however dropped out of high school. Never cared for schooling.”

  “But you read books,” said Greg.

  I elbowed him. Sometimes his mouth ran away with him.

  “Of course I read, but I read what I like. Not what some teacher tells me to,” said Tiny.

  “Okay, guys, cool it,” I said before things got really heated. “Thank Sombrero for me. However, how am I going to know the material since I didn’t do it?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” said Tiny, “He’ll give you a crash course later. The guy’s a good teacher.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t like teachers,” said Greg.

  “That isn’t entirely true,” said Tiny, “Sombrero lets you drink beer while teaching you facts and figures.”

  “Having someone else do your homework is cheating,” said a small voice.

  Tiny jumped. On the couch sat Alana, Sarah, and Freya; each played with their pigtails.

  “Mommy says that you should do your own homework,” said Alana.

  “Otherwise you will never learn anything,” chimed Freya.

  “It’s not like I won’t learn it,” I said.

  “Cheating is cheating,” said Sarah.

  Great, now I was being scolded by three kids who died a few decades ago. They were right, but I was not about to admit that.

  “What’s going on?” said Jackie walking in.

  “Hey, Jackie,” I said, “Meet the little ghosts: Sarah, Freya, and Alana. They’re Tiny’s spooks from the library.”

  “We’re not spooks,” said Freya.

  “Well, we do spook some people,” said Alana.

  “Quit trying to sound so smart,” shot back Freya.

  “Well, I am smart,” Alana said.

  “Doesn’t mean you have to shove it in people’s faces,” cried Freya.

  “Will you two stop it?” said Sarah.

  “You’re not mommy! Quit trying to be mommy,” said Freya.

  “Enough!” I yelled. “Alright, you three, what are you doing here?”

  “We got bored,” said Alana.

  “That’s why we followed you to Utah,” said Sarah.

  “Can we get in another fight?” asked Alana.

  “Fight?” said Tiny.

  Oh boy. I had hoped to be able to leave this part out. “It was nothing.”

  “It was more than nothing,” began Alana.

  “Yeah. This guy was pointing a knife at her—”

  “—and threatened to kill her!”

  “It was tense! But we showed up and saved the day.”

  “Yeah, because Mellow wouldn’t protect herself.”

  “That is not entirely true,” I said to the three girls. “I just didn’t want to get in a fight.”

  “And where was lover boy?” demanded Tiny.

  “In the car,” said Sarah.

  “Like a sissy,” added Freya.

  “Now wait a minute—” began Greg.

  “See, that is why you needed me along,” interrupted Tiny.

  A headache formed in the back of my head. I was stuck playing mother to five children: two who insisted on comparing manliness and three ghosts who decided they liked following me around.

  “Everyone stop,” I said. “Look, it has been a long twenty-four hours and I would really like to eat and get some rest.”

  “You want food,” said Tiny heading for the door.

  I put my hand out. “You are not inviting us over at my neighbor’s again.”

  “But it’s fun.”

  “Let’s try something a little more honest.”

  Tiny’s face fell; just like a little kid. “Fine.” He pulled out his phone. “Sombrero? Yeah, Mel’s hungry and now’s a good time to go over her school work…Yeah, don’t want her flunking out…Later.” He flipped it closed.

  Within half an hour Sombrero and the guys showed up with more food than we knew what to do with. I didn’t care. My stomach was happy being full again.

  While everyone partied in my apartment, Sombrero and I sat outside to go over my homework. Impressed that he had been able to get two weeks’ worth of work done in just one day; I soon learned that there was more to him that I had originally thought. Sombrero was a good teacher and explained all of the concepts of my courses in a way I easily understood. I started to get a bit hopeful about passing my upcoming midterms.

  Day turned to evening and my incessant yawning told the world that exhaustion had caught up with me. Calling it a day, I went to bed.

  Chapter 6

  I woke early the next morning prepared for a grand day of doing nothing. Being the weekend with no classes and two consecutive days off, I was ready to get wild. Well, maybe not too wild. Wild for me meant taking a walk, having a cappuccino, and a Krispy Kreme donut. My weakness.

  Jackie met me in the kitchen. As usual she displayed the epitome of perfection. A cardigan over a lace cami with dark wash jeans and flats. Her hair and face looked magnificent. I couldn’t have been more jealous.

  Though my fashion wasn’t too atrocious today. With Jackie’s influence I managed to look put together, though I nixed the makeup. Never cared for painting my face. Unfortunately, my hair had other ideas.

  “Here, let me take care of that,” said Jackie as I tried to put my hair in a ponytail. “You need to find another style.”

  Jackie put my hair in an elegant braid that made me look more sophisticated. At least, it would stay out of my face. “So, are the little brats here?”

  “SHH, don’t say that. They could be listening and we don’t know it.”

  “All better,” said Jackie as she admired her handiwork. “Come on, I want a donut.”

  “Don’t you have to go to work?”

  “Forgot to tell you,” said Jackie, “While you were gone chasing leads in Utah, a pipe burst at the Candle Shoppe. So no one is allowed at work until it’s fixed. Could be a couple days.”

  “Nice,” I said.

  “You should have been there. Tammy got sprayed with so much water; the girl looked like a drowned rat. It was hilarious!”

  We headed out the door and found the nearest Krispy Kreme store, which also happened to be next to a Dunkin Donuts. Call me picky, but I think Krispy Kreme has better donuts than Dunkin. After we got our morning fix of caffeine and sugar, Jackie and I sat outside at one of their tables.

  We sipped our coffee and munched our donuts having a casual conversation and enjoying the warm sunshine. It was a glorious, cloudless day.

  Suddenly, the ginger haired man strolled by across the street. I watched as he walked briskly with a small bag on his shoulder. Too briskly. The man seemed focused on something as though he had a mission.

  “Mel? Mel?”

  I turned back to Jackie. She stared at me with a perplexed expression. I had been sitting in my chair for sev
eral minutes with a vacant look on my face and my coffee hovering near my mouth. I really needed to work on not getting distracted.

  “I found him,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “The ginger haired man,” I pointed across the street just as he rounded a corner. “Come on.”

  “No way,” said Jackie. “Every time you want to follow someone something happens.”

  I danced on the balls of my feet. “Come on, Jackie. He’s getting away. He’s involved. I know it.”

  Jackie stared at me; her butt stayed planted firmly in the chair.

  “I’ll give you a cherry turnover.”

  Jackie’s eyes focused on me.

  “A big one?”

  “With frosting.”

  “Better be.”

  She hopped out of her chair. We darted across the street and rounded the same corner in time to see the man disappear down an alley. Jackie and I followed maintaining enough distance so as not to be noticed.

  Suddenly, my behind smarted as I crashed onto the pavement after literally bumping into Greg.

  “Hey, Mel,” he said, “What’s the rush?”

  “No time,” I said as Jackie and I continued running.

  “Mel? Mel, wait up,” shouted Greg chasing after us.

  Jackie and I refused to slow down. Ignoring Greg’s shouts we continued our pursuit of the mysterious man. The guy rounded two more corners until coming out on what was known as Church Alley. A big cathedral rested on that road surrounded by various small businesses. The cathedral made a nice landmark,

  The ginger haired man dashed up the steps to the church, glanced around, and went inside.

  Perfect. How do you follow someone in a church? I was about to find out. I dashed for it.

  “Oh no,” said Jackie grabbing my arm and holding me back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Going in there,” I said.

  “But it’s a church.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So, aren’t there rules about such things?”

  “Who cares,” I said, “He knows something and we need to find out what it is.”

  I ran across the street, up the church steps, and through the heavy, wooden doors. Jackie followed me. We went in as quietly as we could. Both of us dipped our hands in the bowl of Holy Water near the front and blessed ourselves. I had watched enough TV to know that that was what you were supposed to do and we wanted to blend in. I spotted the man we had followed. Quickly, Jackie and I slipped into a pew and hunkered down.

  We watched as the man, who now seemed to be wearing a cassock, knelt before the altar, blessed himself, and approached it. He searched around it for something while pretending that he belonged there.

  “Let’s go,” said Jackie.

  “No,” I replied holding her down. I wanted to see what this guy was up to. Finally he found what he looked for. Taking a quick glance around to make sure he wasn’t being watched, the man slipped an item in a small bag and darted down the steps. He headed straight for us.

  “Quick,” I said pulling Jackie out of the pew and toward an open door. I shoved her inside the tiny space and shut the door leaving it open just enough to peek through. Scrunched inside the small interior, we peeked through the small opening. The man swiftly reached the back of the church and pulled off his cassock to reveal a button up shirt and nice pair of jeans. He tossed the cassock aside with ease. Pulling a hat out of his pocket, the man clutched his coveted item and darted out of the building. Once again I marveled at how people never notice anything.

  “Don’t tell me we just saw the James Bond that robs a church,” whispered Jackie.

  “That was weird.”

  Someone approached. I shut the door and hunkered down motioning for Jackie to do the same in case the man had come back. The last thing we needed was to get caught.

  “Mel,” said Jackie, “Where exactly are we?”

  “SHH.”

  A door on the other side opened as someone slid in. “Bless me, father, for I have sinned,” said a masculine voice.

  Oh crap.

  “A confessional?” hissed Jackie, “You brought us to a confessional?”

  I motioned for her to keep quiet. “How long has it been since your last confession?” I asked in my best imitation man’s voice. Thankfully, I had watched enough movies to know this part, but my voice did not convince anyone; not even me.

  “You want to tell me why you are pretending to be the priest?”

  I gulped. This wasn’t good. “Pretending?”

  Jackie stomped on my foot. True, I should have left that last part out.

  “Out. Now,” said the man on the other side.

  Guiltily, Jackie and I stepped out of the confessional. Of all the things I had to pick to hide in. The man on the other side stepped out as well straightening to his full height. Unfortunately, he was the priest.

  “We weren’t pretending to be priests,” I said.

  “I can see that,” said the priest. “What were you doing in there?” His serious tone told me that we were in a lot of trouble.

  I knew I couldn’t tell him the truth: that I followed a man there who stole something and acted like a spy. Like he’d buy that. So I opted for a lie. “I was hiding from my ex-boyfriend.”

  Maybe I should have told the truth. The priest stared at me. On any other occasion, and were he not dressed like a priest, I would have thought him attractive with his salt and pepper hair. “You mean the boyfriend that is standing over there worried about you?”

  I glanced over to find Greg looking at me. He waved. Sheepishly, I waved back. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said.

  “Try me,” said the priest.

  “We were following a spy,” blurted out Jackie so loud that her voice echoed throughout the cathedral. Some people lost in prayer glanced in our direction, annoyed. “I mean, we followed some guy here. He dressed himself up like you. Then he took something off the altar and walked out.”

  “And?”

  “And then he tore off his clothes and walked out to the street,” finished Jackie.

  “Naked?” asked the priest.

  “No,” I said, “He was wearing other clothes underneath. Look I know this all sounds a bit out there, nor does our hiding in the confessional look good, but we are telling the truth. This time.”

  “Do you know what this man looked like?” asked the priest.

  “Didn’t get a good look at his face,” I replied.

  The priest gave us his evil eye; at least, I think it was his evil eye. Either way, we were busted and I knew it. “I suggest you two leave,” said the priest, “And the next time you decide to hide, look elsewhere.”

  Jackie and I darted out of there without another word. I figured we were lucky that he did not call the cops on us. All I needed now was for Detective Shorts to show up. Unfortunately, the universe agreed.

  Just as Jackie and I left the building, with the priest right behind us, Detective Shorts walked up the steps.

  “Detective,” I said, surprised, “What are you doing here?”

  “I happen to go to this church,” replied Detective Shorts. “And you?”

  “Just leaving,” said the priest. “Hello, Detective.”

  “Father Hillard.” Detective Shorts turned to Jackie and me. “You two are not on another case are you?”

  “No,” we both said a bit too quickly.

  The detective eyed us a moment before going inside. Jackie and I found Greg waiting for us by the door.

  “Want to explain to me what just happened?” he asked.

  “Later,” I said.

  “No, now,” said Greg, pulling me to a halt.

  “Ok,” I said, “I saw the ginger haired guy today while Jackie and I were out. So we followed him. He’s connected to this somehow; I know he is.”

  “What makes you think that?” asked Greg.

  “At the library when Allison was killed, that man was too calm about it. But he also
couldn’t get away fast enough. The trouble is no one remembers seeing him except me.

  “He also stopped by the Candle Shoppe two days ago and got all agitated when I asked if he needed help. He’s up to something.”

  “So you followed him into a church and then hid in the confessional?” questioned Greg.

  Okay, it sounded really stupid when he put it like that. Even I began to see the stupidity of my actions. “Yeah,” I sheepishly replied.

  I noticed a janitor sweeping the walk that went between the church and rectory. It wasn’t the sweeping that caught my eye, but the way he seemed to be watching us. He was too interested in our conversation.

  The man noticed me looking at him. He picked up his broom and walked through a door.

  “Come on,” I said.

  “Where?” asked Jackie.

  “Didn’t you notice the janitor?” I asked.

  “The janitor that was sweeping the walk?” said Greg.

  “He was listening to us,” I replied.

  “Mel, I don’t think he was,” Greg said, “You’re just on hyper alert for anyone unusual.”

  I shook my head and darted for the door. Locked. Quickly, I pulled out a bobby pin and proceeded to pick the lock.

  “Are you serious?” gasped Jackie, “Now you’re breaking into a church?”

  The locked clicked and I opened the door.

  “You don’t have to come,” I said.

  We all slipped through. Of course they weren’t going to let me go alone.

  A dimly lit stairwell greeted us on the other side of the door. Only a single bulb hung from the ceiling. I tiptoed down the stairs with Greg and Jackie close behind, glad that Jackie had not worn any heels. Our shoes made soft clacking noises, but mostly we managed to reach the bottom without too much of a commotion.

  The stairs gave way to a long hallway which veered off into two rooms. Voices spilled from one. I inched my way closer to where the noise originated. With very little light, I had a difficult time making out the two shapes. One definitely belonged to the janitor that I had spotted outside. I did not know the identity of the other.

  “So where is it?” asked the man in the shadows.

  “I don’t know where it is,” said the janitor. “She never said.”

  “You should have made certain that you got the information from her when you had the chance,” spat the mystery man.