by Rose Pressey
I wasn’t so sure about that. I figured that my ability to see ghosts would soon disappear just as it had so abruptly appeared in my life. I had no proof of that, but I was holding out hope.
Wind Song jumped down from her spot at the window. She leisurely strolled over to us and then jumped up onto the counter. Usually, that meant she wanted to be fed or wanted to give us a message with the tarot cards or Ouija board.
“Are you hungry, Wind Song?”
She meowed and pawed at my hand. I took that as a yes. Before I could get the food, she jumped from the counter and took off across the room. A scent of roses and a touch of musk floated through the air. Memories of my grandmother came rushing back.
“That was odd,” I said.
“What’s odd?” Charlotte asked.
“I just smelled my grandmother’s favorite perfume. . . when Wind Song jumped down and ran across the room.”
“Maybe it’s your imagination,” Charlotte said while studying her fingernails. She had a tendency to change her polish color often. Sometimes more than once a day.
Of course, when all she had to do was think of a color, it was pretty easy. One of the perks of being a ghost.
“My grandmother’s favorite perfume was Wind Song. That’s why I chose that name for the cat,” I said to Juliana.
“That is a coincidence,” Juliana said.
Wind Song stopped in front of the section of hats. She pawed at one of them and then turned back to look at me.
“I think she’s trying to tell you something,” Juliana said.
As I moved over to the hats, Wind Song strolled away. The hat she’d pointed out was a man’s. I wasn’t sure what message she was giving me. Something about that particular hat? “I guess she didn’t have much to say.”
“Maybe you can ask her to use the Ouija board,” Charlotte said.
Wind Song was already asleep again in the sunshine. There was no need to ask. I’d learned early on that she did things when she was ready. She would tell me what she wanted me to know when she was ready. That kind of reminded me of my grandmother too. She’d only done something when she was ready.
I went back to work, trying to take my mind off Victor. I was curious though, if Juliana knew him. She’d been kind of secretive. After a few minutes of wondering, I asked her. “Juliana, do you know Victor?” I tagged a shirt and placed it on a hanger.
She shook her head. “I’ve never seen the man before. But right now I’m having a hard time remembering people I’d recently met.”
“Why would he be interested in vintage clothing?” Charlotte asked.
I’d love to find that out. But how? I certainly didn’t want to run into him again to ask. Finding out more about him was definitely in order.
* * *
Several customers came into the store so that kept me busy for the rest of the afternoon. I was grateful for the business and for the distraction.
I looked at the clock and turned off the computer. “I guess it’s time to close for the day.”
Charlotte jumped up from the settee. “Good. Now maybe we can get down to work.”
“What do you mean? I’m planning on going home and taking a relaxing bath.”
“That’s not good use of your time, Cookie,” Charlotte said.
“It’s all I know to do right now. Maybe it will clear my mind so that I can come up with some brilliant plan.”
I stepped out of the shop and locked the door. I was watching over my shoulder a lot more than usual lately.
Charlotte motioned with both hands as if waving in an airplane for landing. “It’s scary out here, Cookie. You need to hurry up and get in the car.”
Nights came sooner now and the streets of Sugar Creek were dark. Everyone had gone home for the day. Heather had left about an hour ago when she stopped by to say good night. I noticed a shadow not far away. A person was walking my way. I couldn’t make out anything about the person, but based on the size, I assumed it was a man.
“This person is making me nervous, Cookie. You should get in your car now.” Charlotte’s voice raised a few decibels.
“Yes, hurry, Cookie,” Juliana said.
The man quickened his steps. It did seem as if he was headed my way. I hurried toward my car but stumbled as I stepped down from the sidewalk.
“Cookie, are you okay?” Charlotte asked.
The man reached down and grabbed me. I didn’t know how I would get out of the situation. I looked up and finally realized that it was Ken.
“Whew. Thank goodness it’s him,” Charlotte said.
I stumbled up from the pavement.
“Are you okay, Cookie?” he asked.
“Yes, I think I’m fine.”
“You didn’t even mess up your outfit,” Charlotte said.
Leave it to her to point that out. That was the least of my worries. “I thought maybe you were the killer.” I blew the hair out of my eyes.
He apologized. “I’m sorry I scared you. I was just walking back from the diner and thought I saw someone acting suspiciously around your store.”
Chapter 16
Charlotte’s Tips for a Fashionable Afterlife
High heels never hurt your feet,
so go for the five-inch heels.
After thinking on it all night, I still had little idea what I should do to find Juliana’s killer. I’d thought some rest and relaxation would ease my stress and I’d figure out what to do. That didn’t happen. However, I thought wearing a cheery yellow dress would lift my mood.
Made of cotton, the 1960s dress had green, yellow, orange, and white ribbons that decorated the bodice and the waist. I paired it with my pale yellow 1970s open toe mules that had a crisscross strap around the heel. Carrying the little Prada bag I’d bought for a song certainly helped my mood too.
I met Heather at Glorious Grits for breakfast then made it to my shop. I opened the carrier door and Wind Song sashayed out and over to her spot in the sunshine. She certainly had her routine down. I went through my morning routine of paperwork and sorting through clothing.
When I pulled out a recently acquired wedding dress, Charlotte’s eyes lit up.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I warned, hanging the dress on a rack. “People are always looking for vintage gowns.”
Charlotte held her hands up. “It would look nice on you, that’s all.”
The wedding dress was absolutely stunning. I’d dated the dress to be from the late 1930s. The floor-length ivory silk gown had a bias cut with a wide pointed collar. It was sleeveless and partially open in the back with side snaps. A hook and eye closure was at the collar. I’d looked for any signs of damage and couldn’t find a single hole, rip, or stain.
“Cookie, you seem upset today. What’s wrong?” Charlotte asked.
I straightened the jewelry in the display case. “It’s just that I’m worried about the break-in and not finding the killer.”
Dylan hadn’t called with word on Victor. I knew he’d call as soon as he heard anything, but the longer it went with no word, the more anxious I became.
“I told you we need to hunt this guy down. We’ll find out the details on our own. Like I always said, if you want something done right you have to do it yourself.”
“Sorry, Charlotte. I think that’s a little too risky,” I said.
Wind Song jumped down from the window and strolled past, not even looking at me.
I found myself watching her every move, wondering when she would provide the next message. It was crazy, waiting for a cat to talk to me. Somehow, I knew she was aware that I was watching her. It was like she could see me out of the corner of her eye. As she made her way to the hat display again, I exchanged a look with Charlotte and Juliana. I knew they were thinking the same thing as me and we moved closer to the hats.
Wind Song stretched out her paw and batted at one of the hats. It was a different one, but still a man’s hat.
I stooped down to her level. “I don’t know what your message is, Wi
nd Song. You’ll have to use the Ouija board to tell me what you’re thinking.”
The bell over the door chimed. I stood and turned my attention toward the man who had just entered the shop. He was tall with blond hair. Probably in his mid-twenties. He wasn’t dressed in vintage, but then most people who came into my shop weren’t.
The man noticed me and immediately put a smile on his face. “Good morning. Are you the owner?”
Maybe he’s trying to sell something? “Yes, I’m the owner.” I closed the distance between us.
Juliana stepped around me and made her way to stand beside him. She didn’t take her eyes off him.
“My name is Hunter Owens.” He extended his hand toward me.
I shook it and said, “Cookie Chanel. Welcome to It’s Vintage Y’all. What can I help you with?”
Juliana was still transfixed on him. “Hunter was my boyfriend. Remember? He was talking with Regina at the funeral.”
Yes, now I remembered where I’d seen him. Would he remember me from almost knocking over the urn?
“That explains the lovey-dovey look in her eyes,” Charlotte said.
He seemed a little nervous. “Nice to meet you. I’d like to talk with you about Juliana McDaniel.”
“I can’t believe it’s him. I can’t believe he’s standing here. I thought I’d never see him again after the funeral,” Juliana said.
“Why is he here?” Charlotte asked.
Juliana didn’t seem to hear or notice anything else in the room while Hunter was there.
Charlotte tossed her hands up. “Oh, good gravy. I can’t get her to say anything, Cookie. Maybe you can.”
Unfortunately, at the moment I couldn’t ask Juliana what was going on, but my curiosity was piqued. Perhaps Hunter would tell me why he’d come by for a visit. “What would you like to talk about?”
“Juliana was my girlfriend. I know you were supposed to meet with her on that day.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Saying that felt weird since I was looking at Juliana when I said it.
“Thank you.” He peered down at his white tennis shoes.
“And yes, I was supposed to meet her that day,” I said.
“Juliana was writing a book about vintage, but you already know that.” He stared at me.
“I’m sorry, Juliana, but your boyfriend is nuttier than a fruitcake,” Charlotte said.
Juliana frowned. “Well, I think he has a reason to act strange. After all, he just lost me. He loved me.”
“I don’t doubt that he did. Nonetheless, he’s acting strange.”
I had to block out the chatter from the ghosts so that I could focus on Hunter.
“Anyway, the reason I came by was I wanted to know if perhaps she gave you any of her vintage items? I know she had some things she wanted you to take a look at. Did she give you anything before the tragedy?”
“Uh-huh. This is definitely strange,” Charlotte said.
Apparently he was interested in getting the contents of Juliana’s car too. Did he really think that I had the stuff? “I’m sorry, Mr. Owens. I didn’t receive any of the items.”
He stared at me for a moment. “Do you know what may have happened to the items she had?”
“I think the police probably have the contents of her car,” I said.
“That’s what I was afraid of.” He gave some thought before asking, “Do you know how I could get them back?”
I shook my head. “No, I have no idea.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “I really need them.”
“Is there anything in particular that you’re looking for?”
He paused.
While she stared at him, Charlotte said to me, “You need to find out more about this.”
“There is nothing to find out. I think he’s just looking out for me and wants to get my things back,” Juliana said.
She was probably right . . . though Charlotte had put a doubt in my mind. Other people wanted the hat. Was he looking for it too? It seemed like I needed to get my hands on the hat. Obviously, it was important. I just couldn’t understand why it was so important.
He never answered my question and continued frowning in silence.
Finally, I said, “I wish I could help you.” Maybe it wasn’t the hat that was important. Maybe it was something else they were looking for. Was there a connection between Hunter and Victor? What about the aunt? I had to find out more about all of them.
“I’ll see you,” Hunter said suddenly as he opened the door.
Needless to say, he left without a hat.
And I hoped I didn’t see him again.
Chapter 17
Cookie’s Savvy Vintage Clothing Shopping Tips
Some garments won’t have a label. If you love the
item, don’t let that stop you from buying it.
Sometimes, Juliana had problems with remembering things. However, her memory apparently came back sometime after lunch. She called out, “Now I remember.”
Charlotte jumped and clutched her chest. “What in the world is wrong with you? You scared me.”
“Sorry, Charlotte. It’s just that I remember where I got the items that were in my car. They’d belonged to Hunter’s grandmother. She gave them to me.” Juliana sighed, remembering. “She was a sweet lady.”
“And what does that mean?” Charlotte said.
I stared at Juliana waiting for an answer. I had the same question.
“Maybe Hunter was asking for the items to give them back to his grandmother.” Juliana waved her hands through the air excitedly. “It makes sense, right?”
Charlotte tapped her fingers against the counter. “I suppose she does have a point.”
I tapped my fingers against the counter too. “Yes, that’s possible.” I agreed. Knowing Juliana was happy that she’d finally remembered made me happy for her too.
“Do you remember why she gave the items to you?” I asked.
Juliana shrugged. “She just didn’t want them anymore.”
“Then I doubt she’d ask for them back,” Charlotte said.
Wind Song weaved around my leg and meowed. She jumped on the counter. I gave her a treat and rubbed her head. She meowed in return.
Deep in thought, I said, “I need Hunter to tell me why he wanted that stuff.”
“I remember his number. You could call him,” Juliana said.
“What will I tell him when he asks how I got his number?”
Juliana tapped her index finger against her bottom lip. “That’s a good question. I’m sure he would be suspicious. He’s the suspicious type.”
“I don’t need that,” I said.
“I know!” Juliana said enthusiastically. She’d had another eureka moment.
Charlotte rubbed her temples. “She has way too much energy.”
Juliana didn’t pay attention to what Charlotte said. “I remember where his grandmother lives. We could go visit her.”
I rubbed Wind Song’s head. “That’s not a bad idea. She might be more willing to talk than your boyfriend. He seemed as if he wanted the items and nothing more. He’d want to know why I was so interested. Where does she live?”
“She’s in Savannah,” Juliana said. “I know exactly how to get there.”
“Looks like we’re taking a road trip,” Charlotte said. “I hope she doesn’t get us lost.”
I hoped Juliana would be able to get the grandmother to talk with me. Maybe the woman wouldn’t want to talk with a stranger. I also wanted to visit Fatima the psychic again. I looked out the window, realizing why it had been so slow all afternoon. Too nice outside. “I’ll call Heather.” I grabbed my phone.
“I wonder what Fatima would say if she knew that Heather really can’t see ghosts.”
“I don’t suppose it’s any of her business, Charlotte.”
Charlotte shrugged. “I guess.” By her tone I knew she wasn’t convinced.
“Besides, she won’t know anyway. I’m not going to tell her and thank go
odness you can’t.”
“Maybe Fatima will be able to see me,” Juliana said.
She had a point there.
I called Heather and told her to meet me as soon as possible. Five minutes later she was walking through the door.
“That was fast,” I said.
“I really want to find out where Wind Song came from.”
“Me too.” I picked up my purse.
I thought about taking Wind Song along, but she probably wouldn’t enjoy the ride much. I said good-bye and told her that we would be back soon to pick her up. She seemed content to stare out the window.
I turned the sign to CLOSED, locked the door of the shop behind me, and we all raced to the car with Heather claiming the front seat. Of course, Charlotte wasn’t happy about that. She always thought she should be shotgun. Heather threatened to sit on top of her, so it was a whole big argument . . . all relayed through me. Finally, Charlotte gave up and got in the back with Juliana.
“I’ll have you know I get car sick in the backseat,” Charlotte said.
“That’s not possible anymore, Charlotte.” I looked at her in the rearview mirror.
We made the beautiful drive to Savannah and through the historic section of town. Spanish moss covered trees draped across the roads.
“Your driving scares me to death,” Charlotte said.
“That’s not possible either,” I said.
Juliana had been right. She knew exactly where his grandmother lived. We drove by the house, but then decided to go by the psychic’s place first. We pulled up to the psychic shop. Heather had called to make sure Fatima was there, but she was only going to be there for a short time so we needed to hurry. I found a spot to park and thank goodness it wasn’t parallel parking. We hopped out.
“I can’t wait to hear what she has to say,” Heather said.
We stepped into the shop and Charlotte said, “It stinks in here.”
“It doesn’t smell bad, Charlotte. It just smells like sandalwood and whatever.”
“It’s just so strong.”
“You can’t even smell. You’re dead.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Well, you don’t have to remind me.”