It's A Ghost's Life (Murder By Design Book 5)

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It's A Ghost's Life (Murder By Design Book 5) Page 6

by Erin McCarthy


  My phone ringing jerked me awake. Startled, I sat straight up, heart thumping. It was almost midnight. Phone calls that late are always bad news. I felt sick. Was it Grandma Burke? Had the stress of Vera’s death given her a heart attack?

  It was a heart attack.

  But not Grandma Burke.

  It was my mother.

  Five

  Jake brought me a cup of coffee the next morning in the waiting room. We’d spent the night on the hard seats of the emergency room lobby for six hours, my father sitting next to me in total stunned silence. They had just reassured us that Mom was going to be fine. They were transferring her to cardiology but she would most likely be released in a few days after they assessed how much damage, if any, had been done.

  I was exhausted from worry, my eyes swollen from crying. My sister in Texas was blowing up my phone all night and all I had been able to tell her was that we didn’t know anything yet. All we’d really known was that she was alive, which when I first heard my father’s voice breaking on the phone the night before, I had been uncertain of for a split second.

  Jake sat down next to me and took my hand in his. He’d insisted on picking me up and driving me to the hospital when I had called him hysterical the night before. He hadn’t wanted me driving and he’d been right. I couldn’t have seen through my tears.

  My mother is a force of nature, just like Jake had said. She has a conviction rate of ninety percent as a prosecutor and is well-known for taking cases other prosecutors wouldn’t touch if she believes in someone’s guilt. She’s headstrong, brilliant, and a little bitchy. Her maternal instincts are crap, but her court instincts are fantastic.

  I had always assumed she would live to a hundred years old, criticizing everyone all day long. The thought that she might be gone, in a split-second, had tilted my world on its axis.

  And good Lord, what if her ghost came to me afterwards? The thought froze all my blood to ice.

  I gave the sign of the cross and thanked God she was still alive.

  The coffee took some of the fog off of my brain and I turned to my father. “You should go home and get some rest.”

  He just shook his head. “Once they move her upstairs, I’ll head to her room. I want to see her.”

  That touched me. My parents had their crap but they did love each other.

  “It shouldn’t be long.”

  It wasn’t. After five minutes had passed, they told us we could go upstairs. Jake insisted on waiting in the hallway and letting me and Dad go in alone. Grandma was at home. I would have to go get her later and bring her for a visit. My mother looked pale and fragile but fully with it. She was telling the nurse attending her that she was doing her job wrong.

  “You should put that on the left side. Then you wouldn’t have to pull all this tubing across me.”

  The nurse made a noncommittal sound. Give the poor girl three days and she’d be contemplating pulling the plug.

  “Hey, pumpkin,” my dad said. He squeezed my mother’s leg but made no move to get any closer to her. He looked like he was afraid he would break her.

  “Hi, Mom, how are you feeling?” I asked, standing awkwardly at the bottom of her bed. Mom isn’t a hugger.

  “I’m fine. You didn’t need to come all the way out here. I don’t want to be responsible for those bags you have under your eyes.”

  And… now what. This was the way it always was with her. You tried to be nice and she repelled you like a roach with a jumbo-sized can of Raid. “You had a heart attack, Mom. Of course I’m here.”

  “Bailey, can you step out of the room? I want to tell your father privately that I want a divorce.”

  The nurse bumped into the metal cart and medical equipment rattled.

  I stared at my mother. “What?” One, what? Two, how was saying she wanted to tell him privately but then stating it anyway actually private? And three, what?

  She ignored me and turned to my father. “I could have died tonight and I realized I’m miserable. We’re miserable. Life is too short. I know about Judy and this is pointless.”

  “Who the hell is Judy?” I squeaked, astonished and feeling like I might vomit.

  The nurse was studiously looking down, frantically trying to finish her job so she could bolt. I couldn’t blame her. I wanted to bolt right along with her. Maybe to the locked closet where they kept the knockout drugs. What the hell was happening?

  “This isn’t the time,” my father told her, sounding nervous, and guilty as hell, I might add. “You’ve had a scare. Just relax. We’ll revisit this particular issue in a few days and see if we can come to a resolution that works for both of us.”

  “Don’t corporate-talk me,” she snapped.

  “I think we should wrap up visiting time,” the nurse said. “Mrs. Burke, I need you to stay calm.”

  “This is insane,” I told them both.

  “Mind your own business,” my father said sharply to me.

  And… I was out. Only my family could turn a heart attack into a farce. I felt like I’d fallen into an episode of Supernatural because clearly my mother had been possessed by demons.

  “Mom, I’ll call you later. I love you.”

  I ignored my father, who obviously had a girlfriend named Judy.

  My mother waved to me but didn’t say anything.

  “Um…” Jake said, when I went into the hallway, not sure whether to cry or laugh.

  “My mom is fine,” I said flatly.

  “I heard. I heard everything, unfortunately.”

  “What was that?” I asked him. “She’s lost her mind. Though my father apparently already did that a while ago since he didn’t deny the Judy accusation.” That made tears pool in my eyes. “Oh my God, my father is a cheater. That’s so gross.”

  He was holding my coffee and he took a huge sip. “Babe, let’s not jump to any conclusions. It’s been a long night. Maybe your dad just didn’t want to argue with her eight hours after she had a heart attack.”

  That could be true. I took a deep breath. “Honestly, I wouldn’t even care if they got divorced. It’s their life and they’re not exactly the poster children for marital bliss. But I don’t want my dad to be having an affair.”

  He put his hand on the small of my back and rubbed as we walked down the hallway. “Let’s just wait for the facts. But yeah, that wouldn’t thrill me about my father either.”

  “Promise me if you ever fall out of love with me or you’re tempted to be with someone, that you dump me, okay?” I shot him an earnest look and took my coffee back out of his hand.

  Another guy would have spent the next ten minutes outlining why he wouldn’t fall out of love with me or cheat, but what I like about Jake is he knows what I need and that was not it. I needed exactly what I had asked for.

  He nodded. “I promise, Bailey.”

  The cold air smacked me in the face as we stepped out into the parking lot. I shivered. “Let’s run away to Florida.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  I wondered if ghosts would leave me alone in the Sunshine State.

  “That would be a negative,” Ryan said, sliding across the ice in his work boots.

  I wasn’t even sure how he was doing that given he wasn’t actually solid. It seemed he’d learned acting skill since his death.

  “Sorry about your mom.”

  I gave him a slight nod. I did not need a weird pissing match between him and Jake right now.

  Vera appeared beside Ryan, walking in her cheetah boots.

  My life was an acid trip gone wrong.

  “Can we go to your apartment?” I asked Jake. Ryan had never gone there. I didn’t know why, but it seemed like a bro code thing. “It’s closer and I need to sleep for about nine days.”

  I shot both my ghostly hang-abouts a warning look.

  They both blinked at me innocently, like they would never interrupt me sleeping or during anything else. “What?” Vera asked. “I can take a hint.”

  I sl
ipped on the ice and would have gone down if Jake hadn’t managed to grab my arm at the last minute. Why did I have the distinct impression that Vera had pushed me?

  She had never struck me as malicious but she was no angel either.

  Though she shouldn’t be able to touch me.

  Most likely I was just a klutz.

  “We should have planned a beach vacation,” I told Jake. “I’m over this already and it’s only mid-January.”

  “We can go away for my birthday in March,” he said, sounding hopeful. “By then we’ll really be ready for sunshine and then I can avoid a party.”

  “I say yes to this plan.” I needed something to look forward to. Or maybe just to distract me from what had just happened. “But I think it’s highly unlikely you’ll be able to escape the party.”

  “The good with the bad,” he said. “That’s life.”

  It sure was.

  What a weekend from hell. Jake only slept two hours before going to work. I stayed in his bed until noon, unable to shake sleep or fogginess. I had gotten little sleep all weekend and had been busy shopping and brunching and dealing with Vera’s death and Ryan’s death anniversary. Then bam, my mother’s heart attack and announcement. Craziness.

  I had a massive headache and my face felt like someone had jammed cotton up my nose and punched me in the eyes a couple of times. I was scared to look in the mirror, knowing I was going to have a red nose and swollen lids. Not that I had any intention of going anywhere. I had already canceled my work appointments for the day, explaining my family emergency. I was wearing Jake’s T-shirt and pajama pants and I was still going to be wearing them when he came home from work.

  After noticing that my super adorable boyfriend had made coffee for me, but it was long cold, I pulled out my phone and used UberEats to get myself a latte the size of my head and a bagel loaded with schmear.

  Jake had texted me twice, one a little kiss emoji, the other a simple “Are you okay?” My sister, Jen, had called me five times but I honestly wasn’t sure I could handle her right now. Alyssa had called me three times and had texted me. Apparently, Jake had told her what had happened and he wanted her to check on me. Did he think I couldn’t be left alone with the knives or something?

  First I texted him so he would stop worrying.

  I live in your pajamas now.

  Then I texted again. I’m okay, thanks. Xo.

  “What the hell is going on?” Alyssa demanded when I called her.

  “My mother had a heart attack and then told my father she wanted a divorce.” I flopped on Jake’s couch. “She told him she knows about Judy and life is too short to be miserable.”

  “What the hell?” she repeated. “Who is Judy?”

  “I have no idea but my father didn’t deny it. The doctor told us my mother will be fine but they’re keeping her at least a day or two for tests and observation.” I knew I had to call her and my father but I didn’t really want to. I had no clue what to say.

  “Damn. On the heels of Vera. What a shit weekend.”

  “For sure.”

  “Are you at home or Jake’s?”

  “Jake’s.”

  “Okay. I was going to come over after work and hang out with you but if you’re with Jake that’s cool.”

  “You can come over here, you know. He’s not a territorial boyfriend. He knows I have friends.” I never wanted to be perceived as that kind of woman—who chose her boyfriend over her friends or who couldn’t still have her own life.

  “I’ll bring wine. I try not to drink on weeknights but if ever there was a Monday made for wine, this is it.”

  “Truer words were never spoken. Okay, I have to go. I really need to call my parents and my sister. I just woke up.”

  “Got it. I’ll text you later.”

  We ended our call and I got a text saying my food had arrived. I went downstairs to the front door of Jake’s duplex and grabbed my coffee and brown bag of food. I could tell the guy was trying not to judge me for being in pajamas and looking like a zombie snatching that coffee like it was brains, but he didn’t entirely succeed. “I work nights,” I told him, which absolutely shocked me. I’m not one to lie normally but it just popped out.

  I wondered if I was in violation of my No Pajamas in Public commandment. I was in semi-public, so it was shaky ground. The look on his face said he agreed, which irritated me. I see people in pajamas all the time.

  He just nodded and told me to have a good afternoon. Maybe he could care less about what I was wearing and I was just hypersensitive from being exhausted and stressed. I drank the coffee even as I walked back up the stairs, dribbling some on my chin, hoping I hadn’t closed the door all the way or I would be locked out.

  The door had swung shut on its own. Damn it all to freaking hell. I was locked out. Jake didn’t have a spare key lying around. He was a cop and he would never do that. I jumped up and down in irritated frustration before realizing at least I was still holding my phone. I ordered Lyft and five minutes later I was on my way home, to where I did foolishly have a key hidden in my garden by the back door. If I had thought the guy bringing my food had questioned my outfit, I can’t even imagine what the driver thought about me being in socks in January with six inches of snow on the ground. I had no coat, just an oversized T-shirt and flannel pants. I shivered in the back seat and clutched my hot coffee.

  He kept glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

  “I got locked out,” I told him. “I ordered food and forgot to take my key downstairs with me.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Gotcha. Want me to crank up the heat?”

  “If you don’t mind, thanks.” My feet were wet and icy cold. My fingers were numb.

  How did people live here before central heat and cars? Coldly, obviously.

  Ten minutes later I was dashing down my driveway as fast as I could, flinging open the gate to the backyard and bouncing on the balls of my feet as I tried to lift the fake rock containing my key out from under the bird bath. Easier said than done since it was covered in snow and frozen to the ground. I gave several choice swear words as my red, wet hands slipped off of it. Finally, I figured I could just open it without lifting it off the ground.

  I had no feeling in my fingers but somehow I managed the task.

  “Only you,” Ryan said, appearing next to me. “Seriously. Only you.”

  “Thanks for the support,” I said, teeth chattering. My hair was falling forward, so I swiped it back as I finally gripped the key and stood up. The wind blew Jake’s T-shirt close against my chest.

  “Holy nipples,” Ryan said.

  Really? I was in a T-shirt and it was twenty-five degrees outside. What did he expect? “Pervert.” I blew on my fingers and ran up the back steps. It took me three tries with my frozen digits but I opened the back door and stumbled in, thanking God and my furnace.

  I grabbed my puffy coat off a hook by the back door and immediately sat down at the kitchen table. I pulled the coat on and then reached down and yanked my wet socks off. I zipped the coat and flipped the hood up before standing again and shoving my coffee in the microwave to get it piping hot again. What a Monday to go with my crap weekend.

  The only upside was the cold had reduced the swelling in my face from crying.

  “What happened to you?” he asked.

  “I got locked out of Jake’s when I went downstairs to get my food delivery.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Why didn’t you just call him?”

  “Because that’s not the world’s dumbest thing. Sure, leave work to come home to let your idiot girlfriend in. Everyone at the station thinks I’m a nutcase as it is.”

  “That’s true.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Besides, what was I going to do, stand in the unheated vestibule in my socks? I figured this was easier, which it would have been if it were July.” I took my coffee back out after the microwave stopped and took a sip, burning the roof of my mouth but not caring. “Now excuse me while I go get some socks.


  I decided as I sat on my bed and pulled on my fuzziest fuzzy socks, that in order to avoid thinking about my family, I was going to do some research on Vera. I did text my father and my sister just to touch base but neither answered me right away, making me think they might actually be on the phone with each other. Thank goodness.

  Trading the puffy coat for a tank top and a sweatshirt, I went back downstairs and opened the bag with my bagel. That went in the microwave next. Ryan was sitting on the couch, boots on my coffee table.

  “I’m going to research Vera,” I told him. “You know, follow the money. See who might want her dead. Her condo is worth over six hundred thousand but I don’t know if she owns it outright or what. Also, her former stepson seemed to think her niece is a money-grubber.”

  “Isn’t everyone?”

  “No. You never were.”

  “True. You can’t take it with you. You can’t even take a change of clothes with you.”

  That was a seriously depressing thought. “Vera is none too happy about that.”

  “None of us are happy about it.”

  I pictured Cesar in his swim trunks sitting on my couch. Yeah. None of us were happy about it.

  Two hours later, I had hit a wall in research. I had put Vera into Google and I found all the basics. Her social media, property transfers, those old articles about her marriages. Nothing particularly noteworthy.

  Then I got something. “Hey, Vera sued her nephew, Steven. Wow. Who does that?” I scanned the details of the lawsuit. “It’s actually a countersuit. He sued her for her portion of his father’s estate, saying she was mentally unsound. She sued back alleging fraud.”

  Ryan was asleep on the couch next to me. Or resting his eyes. He didn’t respond. I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Wake up.”

  “Huh, what?” He pretended to wake up.

 

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