The Event

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

  PRAISE FOR

  UNFINISHED BUSINESS

  AN ANGELA PANTHER MYSTERY

  "I laughed and I cried...and laughed...and cried...throughout the entire book! This book was so real (yes even with the heroine seeing her mother's ghost) and the emotion in it will stay with me for a long, long time!"

  —Joe Cool Review

  "It definitely touched a chord with anyone who has ever lost a loved one. The writing was strong and the dialogue -- which many people simply cannot write—was terrific."

  —Christie Giraud, editor, Editingpro.com

  "What a fantastic read! I couldn't put it down! I had to keep reading just to see what twist life was going throw out at Angela next!"

  —Chicklit Plus

  "The author has a great sense of humor, even about death, but when the story called for it, she was reverent and empathetic in the way her characters handled each other."

  —Caroline Fardig, Bestselling Author of

  It's Just a Little Crush

  To be notified of future releases and receive a free copy of Carolyn's novella, Unbinding Love An Angela Panther Mystery, visit

  Carolynridderaspenson.com

  THE EVENT

  AN ANGELA PANTHER MYSTERY NOVELLA

  CAROLYN RIDDER ASPENSON

  Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

  March 2018

  Copyright 2018 CAROLYN RIDDER ASPENSON

  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

  Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).

  Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes.

  No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.

  Cover Design by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  EPUB ISBN

  Library of Congress Control Number:

  For my mother and father

  Rita D. Ridder

  &

  Richard L. Ridder

  RIP

  MEL TOSSED THE LIME GREEN DRESS ONTO THE BOUTIQUE FLOOR AND PLOPPED INTO THE CHAIR BESIDE ME. "What was I thinking, getting married on St. Patrick's Day? I can't have a green-themed wedding. Look at me." She spread out her arms and laughed. "Green is definitely not my color."

  I ogled the tacky green dress lying on the floor and busted out laughing.

  She smacked my arm. "You're not helping."

  I sniffled. "Sorry. I don't know why you went with the green thing anyway. Just tell Aaron you don't want to do it. He'll understand."

  "I can't. It's his first wedding. He should have what he wants."

  "His first?"

  "You know what I mean."

  "Tell him you want to elope, then you don't have to worry about any of this."

  "That's not a bad idea actually, but I can't. My mom's already told my whole family. I'm already getting gifts."

  "Seriously? Am I wrong in thinking second weddings shouldn't include gifts?"

  "You're just trying to get me to say it again, aren't you?"

  I pressed my lips together to stop from smiling. "Say what?"

  Mel knew me so well she just slid right past my feigned innocence and kept talking. "It took me two weeks to convince her not to throw me another shower. I'm sure she told everyone to just send the gifts straight to me."

  "Wow. What'd you get so far?"

  "Three toasters, two Keurigs and three rice cookers."

  My eyes lit up. "I've always wanted a Keurig."

  "Done."

  "What're you going to do with the duplicate gifts?"

  She shrugged and removed the last shamrock green dress from its hanger. "No. I can't. I just can't."

  "Come on, just try it on. I think the red rose on the straps—" I ran my hand across the bottom of the dress, "and bottom will do wonders for your complexion."

  "I'm finding another matron of horror."

  I held up the ungodly green monstrosity the salesperson suggested for my maid of honor dress. "Good luck with that. If you think anyone else will wear shamrock green just for you, go for it."

  "Speaking of, why don't you try on a few more dresses?"

  I waved my hands in front of me. "Oh, heck no. Not today."

  She pushed me out of the dressing room. "Oh, heck yeah. I think it's a mighty fine idea. We definitely need to make sure our dresses match."

  A different saleswoman approached us. "Can I help you with—" She checked out Mel's dress, and I caught her flinch, but she covered it up quickly. "Oh, my. Doesn't that dress look stunning on you?"

  "Stunning? Yeah, something like that," Mel said. "Angela here needs to find the perfect matron of horror, I mean, honor dress. Same type of color, maybe a shade or two lighter."

  "Well, honey, the bridal party doesn't typically wear the same color as the bride." She eyed the dresses draped over our forearms. "May I ask why you're going with that color again?"

  "We're getting married on St. Patrick's Day, and my fiancé wants a themed wedding."

  "Oh, my. Isn't that dandy?"

  I laughed. "Yeah, dandy. That's what I'd call it."

  "Shut it, Panther." Mel smiled at the woman. "What would you suggest then?"

  She examined Mel, letting her eyes travel up and down her body, and ran her fingertips through Mel's long, luscious black hair.

  Mel stiffened, and I smacked my lips together again. "With your skin tone, I'd stick with a soft pastel color. A cream or soft pink, and either of those would go well with your theme. Besides, the bride should be the focus of positive attention on her wedding day, and I'm not sure a green dress will give you that kind of attention." She brushed a strand of hair away from Mel's face. "You tell your fiancé to come talk to me if he doesn't agree with that." She crooked her finger. "Follow me. I'll pick out a few things for each of you."

  I didn't need my spidey sense to know the woman knew what she was doing.

  She threw dresses at us like a mad woman. Pinks and creams for Mel, but she stuck with the green monstrosities, including the ones Mel picked, for me.

  Mel walked back into the dressing room to try them on. When she walked back into the store's main fitting area, she took my breath away. "Wow."

  She pirouetted. "You like?"

  "No, I love. That's the one. It's beautiful. You're beautiful." Tears welled up in my eyes. "Gawd, I'm already crying, and you haven't even paid for the darn thing."

  She faced the mirror, ran her hands down the pink lace and smiled at her image, tears falling from her eyes, too. "It is gorgeous, isn't it? I feel like a bride again."

  "Uh, you are a bride again. And it's not just the gown that's gorgeous, it's the woman in it, too."

  "You think?"

  "I know. And seriously, your boobs. Look at those things. They're massive in that dress."

  She cupped them. "I know, right? If one of those green ones made my boobs look this good, I'd probably buy it."

  We both laughed.

  "You definitely need to buy this one."

  "Definitely."

  Both saleswomen walked up, and the touchy-Feely one gasped. "Oh, my. That is the one. It highlights all your finer parts. Look at this." She ran her hands up Mel's waist and over the sides of her breasts. Mel caught my eye in the mirror and blanched.

  I nodded. Mel was a people magnet. All sexes loved her.

  She winked, knowing what I was thinking.

>   "You'll have all the men wishing they were the groom in this dress," the first saleswoman said.

  "Do you think I'll need it fitted?" Mel asked.

  "Honey, I don't think it can fit any better," touchy-Feely said.

  "What about Angela's dresses?"

  "Oh, I don't think any of those are right," I said.

  Mel snorted. "Of course, you don't."

  "Green really isn't my color. Besides, I'm going to talk to Aaron and set him straight about this themed thing."

  Something caught my eye in the corner of the room. I glanced over, and a tiny green blur rushed past and jumped straight into the wall.

  A normal person doesn't normally see things jumping into walls, but I wasn't normal.

  "Maybe I should try on a few other colored dresses, just in case. Just to see what else is out there? Could you go and grab a few things that would coordinate with Mel's dress, please? I'd appreciate it."

  "Why, sure. I'd be happy to," Touchy-Feely said, and both sales women walked away.

  The tiny, green blur appeared again, but it wasn't blurry anymore, and it definitely wasn't tiny.

  Mel danced like a princess, oblivious to the green guy standing in the corner.

  "Um, Mel? We might have a problem."

  She stopped and waved me off. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure Aaron'll be fine about the color change. We'll just tell him green's going to be the accent color. I'm getting this dress no matter what."

  "No, not that. I mean here. We have a problem here."

  She checked out the area. "We have a visitor?"

  I nodded.

  She flipped around and gave the room a detailed once-over. "A ghost? Where?"

  I pointed to the green dressed guy with pointy ears barely showing under a large green top hat, standing in the corner, smiling at me. "I…I don't think so."

  "Excuse me? What's that mean?"

  "It means I don't think it's a ghost."

  "It's not a demon, is it? Because that would be a really bad omen. Oh my God, it's a demon, I know it. My wedding hasn't even happened, and I'm already doomed." She flung herself onto the couch against the wall, right near the guy in the green suit. "I'm screwed."

  "It's not a demon, and I don't think you're screwed."

  "This marriage won't fail. It can't fail. I won't let it. I can't go through that again."

  I watched her neck turn the color of an overly ripe tomato, and the color travel straight up her face. I plopped down next to her and rubbed her leg. "You're not going to fail, and it's not a demon, I promise."

  "If it's not a demon, and you don't think it's a ghost, what is it?"

  I glanced back at Mr. Green Suit. He winked at me, and then he disappeared. "I'm pretty sure it was a leprechaun."

  * * *

  We cut the dress up session short. Mel asked touchy-Feely to hold her pick for twenty-four hours, saying she wanted to make sure, and we bolted to the car.

  I drove straight to the nearest Starbucks and got us each extra shot skinny vanilla lattes. Mel probably didn't need the extra shot, but I did so I could keep her from losing it. When I set them on the table, she didn't even notice because her head was bent down toward her phone.

  "Leprechauns aren't real. I can't find any kind of urban myth or anything, just stupid folklore. It had to be a demon."

  "Yes, because everything on the Internet is true?"

  "Abe Lincoln says so."

  "Em hmm."

  "I'm pretty sure if someone actually saw one it would have trended on Twitter at some point," Mel said.

  "I'm pretty sure I'd know a leprechaun when I saw one, but you go ahead and believe strangers online over your best friend."

  "You see ghosts, not leprechauns."

  "Until today."

  She twisted her ponytail and clipped it to the back of her head. "This is bad. I know it's bad."

  "No, you don't. You don't even know if he's got anything to do with you. For all we know, he could be attached to Ms. Touchy-Feely, who, by the way, totally had the hots for you."

  "It's an Asian thing. We appeal to every gender."

  "And Italian German women don't?"

  She stared at me, a serious expression setting on her face. "Yes, because no one's intimidated by a Gestapo officer brandishing a wooden spoon."

  "Wow. Just, wow."

  A slow smile curved onto her lips. "I crack myself up."

  "At least someone in the room thinks you're funny." I giggled. "I crack myself up."

  She flipped me off and went back to the demon leprechaun theory of hers. "It's definitely a demon out to ruin my happily ever after."

  "It is not."

  "Whatever, but I'm sure as hell not going back there to find out."

  "I don't think you'll have to worry about that."

  She caught my eyes as they glanced behind her and froze. "He's here, isn't he?"

  I dropped my chin to my neck—but it stopped when it hit a suddenly appeared twin chin I'd refused to acknowledge—and raised my eyes to her.

  Mel dropped an F-bomb.

  "I think you're okay though. I don't think he's here for you."

  "You can't know that."

  "Yeah, I can."

  "How? How could you know that? It's impossible to—"

  "Because every time you talk, he shakes his head, but when I talk, he nods."

  She raised an eyebrow. "Really? Thank God."

  "Because better me than you, right?" I smirked.

  She leaned back in her chair, and I watched the tension leave her body in a heavy breath. "Damn straight."

  "Feelin' the love, Mel. Feelin' the love."

  "You know what I mean. I mean I'm glad my wedding isn't screwed, but I don't want anything creepy happening to you either."

  "Gee, thanks."

  "What're you going to do?"

  "Nothing."

  "What do you mean nothing? You've got a leprechaun on your tail, and you're just going to ignore him?"

  "Oh, so now he's a leprechaun and not a demon?"

  She blushed. "I might have panicked a little."

  "Maybe just a bit."

  "But seriously, you're going to do something, right?"

  "Yup. I'm going to ignore him."

  A few months before I'd made a decision in haste and ended up beaten to near death. A few broken ribs, badly bruised ribs and a spleen that's functioning was questionable—among other physical and emotional damage—and I'd yet to fully recover. Until I was strong enough to defend myself I refused to deal with anyone that lacked a heartbeat, or anyone involved with them. Except my mother and father, of course, but Dad rarely came around, and the Universe had revoked my mother, Fran's, visitation rights until further notice, if ever. I'd yet to find out why, too. Instead, they just pulled her privileges when I needed her most—during the beat down. I'd spent the last few years at the beck and call of the Universe, yet when I needed help, it screwed me. I had no intention of doing a thing for them again.

  Mel held my hand and squeezed. A lump at the bottom of my throat tried to push its way up, but I swallowed it back. I wouldn't let it get me. Not ever.

  "You have to let it go, Ang. It's time. Forgive yourself."

  I yanked my hand away. "Forgive myself? For what? I didn't do anything wrong. They did." I pointed to the ceiling. "It's them I can't forgive."

  "They didn't almost kill you. You decided to do what you did. It was a choice, and that choice determined what happened next."

  Mel and I didn't often disagree, but this was a sore subject, and if I didn't stop it then, it could turn ugly. I stood to leave. "I'm not doing this. I have to go anyway. I have somewhere to be."

  She followed me out with Mr. Green Suit trailing behind. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm just worried about you."

  I clicked my FOB and unlocked the two front doors of my new Infiniti, the car my husband Jake purchased for me last month, a month after the incident. He thought it would give me something to be happy about.
What everyone failed to realize was that I wasn't unhappy.

  I was pissed.

  The Universe gave me a gift I didn't want, but I ran with it. I did what was expected, was the go-to for ghosts, and when I needed them…when I needed help, I got nothing. I nearly died, and the Universe didn't care. That wasn't my choice. That was theirs. I'd just stopped trying to explain.

  Mel hopped in the front, and Mr. Green Suit floated into the back seat, pressing his body firmly onto the leather upholstery. I watched as his chest expanded and then deflated. Was he breathing?

  Most spirits weren't solid, and they certainly didn't breathe, but I ignored my curiosity and flipped toward him. "Take a hike, buddy. This ain't Uber."

  His eyes sparkled, and a slow smile took over his face, but he didn't budge.

  I rolled my eyes. "Fine then, stay if you want, I don't care."

  He gave me a thumbs up.

  I watched for another second, and when he still hadn't disappeared, I turned back around and pressed the ignition button.

  "That was kind of harsh, don't you think?" Mel asked.

  "You're worried about me being harsh, and you thought he was a demon?"

  "That's my standard go-to fear."

  I kept my eyes peeled on my review mirror while backing out of the parking spot. I didn't want Mel to see the anger I felt brewing inside me. "How ‘bout you let me handle this my way, okay?"

  She shrugged and then kept quiet the rest of the drive to her house. When I pulled into her driveway, she hugged me. "I love you, and I'm not trying to upset you. I'm just worried about you."

  The tension in my shoulders softened. "I know. I love you, too."

  "Call me later?"

  "Will do." I smiled as she shut the door behind her.

  I knew Mel was on my side, that she wanted me to deal with what had happened, and I was. The problem was I'd changed, and the Angela she knew, the one everyone knew, was gone. LeAnn Jacobs and Stu Walker, the two who'd beaten me, they hadn't killed my physical body, but they'd killed my spirit.