Ghostly Ordeal

by Lily Harper Hart

“I’m the one who did the crying, Phil,” Gloria argued. “You were a horrible husband.”

  “I was a catch compared to you,” Phil groused. “You were the devil in Prada heels. I mean ... seriously. Why won’t God just smite you and put you out of your misery?”

  Harper ignored the sniping and moved toward the big bush that hid most of Gibbons’s backyard. She was certain now that she’d seen movement and she was hopeful that movement belonged to a ghost. Otherwise, she was going to have to drink her lunch ... and that wasn’t a pretty picture.

  “Where are you going?” Phil called out.

  “I think he’s over here. You guys keep arguing over there. I’ll be back in a minute.” And, with that, Harper disappeared into the backyard and came face to face with a dead man.

  Six

  Harper was so thankful for a few moments of silence she didn’t bother looking over her shoulder to see if her parents were following. It seemed like too much effort.

  She was barely around the bush when she practically tripped through Carl’s ghost, who was watching her with eyes the size of saucers.

  “Oomph.”

  Harper slammed into a tree, although she was thankful for it because that meant she wouldn’t hit the ground, which was cold and frozen thanks to the storm.

  “Are you okay?” Carl reached out to help her and frowned when his hands passed through her body. “Oh, dear.”

  “That about sums it up,” Harper grumbled as she rubbed her cheek. She could feel a sore spot and was worried it would develop into a bruise she would have trouble explaining to Jared.

  “You’re dead,” Carl announced. He appeared relatively calm when delivering the words. “I’m sorry, my dear. You were so young.” He pressed his hand to his heart and looked to the sky, as if praying.

  “I’m not dead,” Harper countered. “You’re dead.”

  “No, you’re definitely dead. My hands went right through you.”

  “They did, but it’s because you’re dead and can’t touch the living. Wait … that kind of sounds dirty when I think about it. Scratch that. Let’s not talk about touching each other.”

  Carl ignored the outburst. He had other things on his mind. “I most certainly am not dead.” He looked to a spot over Harper’s shoulder and brightened considerably. “Here comes someone who will prove it to you. Oh, Gloria.” He adopted a smarmy smile. “Will you please tell this adorable, and sadly dead, young lady that I’m alive?”

  Gloria, of course, couldn’t see him so she didn’t respond. “Harper, you should announce when you’re going to take a detour through the snow.” She gestured toward her pants, which were covered with powdery white flakes. “My pants are now wet. You know how I feel about wet pants.”

  “Yes, the same way she feels about doing the dishes,” Phil muttered.

  “Gloria,” Carl sang out. “I’m talking to you.”

  Harper almost felt sorry for him when her mother continued ranting at her rather than him.

  “Why are we wading through the snow? I don’t like it. I’m already cold … and my coat is very unhappy.”

  Harper let loose a weary sigh. “I hate it when you pretend your coat has feelings, Mother.”

  “It does.”

  “Yes, but that just reminds me that it used to be made up of living animals.”

  “So did your suede boots.”

  Since she had a point, Harper decided to move on with the conversation. “Carl is here. I need you to shut up for a minute. We’re having a conversation.”

  Gloria frowned. “He’s here?” She glanced around, as if searching for proof. “Where?”

  Harper pointed toward him. “He’s upset. He thought I was dead and now he realizes it was him.”

  “Why would you be dead?”

  “He was just confused.”

  “Well, frankly, that’s rude.” She adopted a stern expression as she stared at the empty spot. “You need to tell Harper who killed you, Carl. It’s very important.”

  For his part, the already muddled ghost seemed more confused than ever. “I can’t be dead,” he complained, frustration positively wafting off him. “It’s impossible. I have too much life left to live.”

  “I’m sorry.” Harper tried to paste an earnest expression on her face, but it was so cold she had no doubt she woefully failed. “I do need you to try to think about your death, though. It’s important. What’s the last thing you remember?”

  “Thinking you were a ghost,” Carl snapped. “I was crushed by the thought, too. It’s not often a hot chick sneaks into my backyard. I thought maybe we could do ghostly stuff together and Gloria would be none the wiser.”

  Harper made a face. “That is really gross.”

  “How is it gross? It’s not really cheating if one of the people is dead. Speaking of that … can I still do stuff?”

  Harper’s stomach turned. “Are you joking?”

  “No. Why? Does it sound like I’m joking? I really want to know. Your answer could end up being extremely important to me.”

  Harper pursed her lips, disdain evident on her frigid features. “You realize that she’s my mother, right?”

  Carl was taken aback. “No. I … no.” He frowned. “Wait a second … how could she be your mother? She’s only forty-four. Are you the girl I met at dinner? I’m trying to remember. I don’t think I paid much attention. She must’ve had you when she was in middle school.”

  Harper often wanted to throttle her mother. The inclination was doubly strong today. “She’s not forty-four.”

  “Don’t tell him that,” Gloria barked. “My age is nobody’s business.”

  “He’s dead, Gloria,” Phil pointed out. “Who is he going to tell?”

  “Who knows? Maybe he’ll tell the other ghosts and they’ll write it in the fog on mirrors or something. I’ve seen that happen in ghost movies. I know because I watched a bunch of them when Harper’s little … gift … first reared its ugly head.”

  Harper tried to pretend she couldn’t hear her mother. “Let’s talk about you, Carl,” she prodded. “You’re the most important person here this afternoon. We’re all here for you.”

  “I don’t really care about him,” Phil argued. “I’m here because I didn’t want to be left out … and I was bored. It’s winter. There’s nothing to do in winter when it’s too cold to go out on my boat.”

  “Who is that?” Carl asked, tilting his head.

  “My father,” Harper replied automatically.

  Carl’s mouth dropped open. “You charlatan!”

  Harper glanced over her shoulder, confused. “Who are you talking to?”

  “I knew you weren’t completely over your ex,” he seethed, glaring at Gloria. “I mean … look at you. I’m barely cold in the ground and you’re already running around with him.”

  “She’s not running around with him,” Harper argued. “I mean … she is. It’s not like that, though. Everyone was at my house and we decided to go on a ghost hunt together.”

  “Oh, likely story.” Carl glared at his former girlfriend, who appeared more agitated about being out in the cold than she was about his death. “I knew getting involved with you was a mistake.” He tried to wave his hand in her face, although Harper couldn’t decide what he was trying to accomplish with the endeavor. “I hope you get crow’s feet that can’t be Botoxed away. Also, you don’t look forty-four. I was lying when I told you that.”

  “What did he say?” Gloria asked.

  Harper thought about telling her, but it would simply open another can of worms so she decided to sidestep the issue. “He seems upset. He might not be able to tell us who murdered him just yet. I think we’re going to need to give him a minute.”

  “Oh, joy,” Phil lamented. “There’s nothing better than a ghost with memory issues.”

  THANKS TO THE STORY BREAKING BIG in the local news cycle, Jared and Mel returned to the office to find another walk-in. This one’s name was Morris Chesterfield, and he was a big ball of fury when
the detectives got a chance to sit down with him.

  “I want to know about the disposition of Carl Gibbons’s assets,” he announced before Jared and Mel got comfortable.

  “Excuse me?” Mel cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t think I understand.”

  “His assets,” Chesterfield barked. “What will happen to the money he’s got in the bank?”

  “I don’t know how to answer that.” Mel looked to Jared for insight. “Um … why are you asking?”

  “Because that guy swindled me out of ten thousand dollars when handling my divorce,” Chesterfield replied without hesitation. “He told me my ex wouldn’t get a dime and I ended up paying a thousand bucks a month in child support. I mean … does that sound like nothing to you?”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Jared chose his words carefully. “I guess I’m confused. I was under the impression Mr. Gibbons was considered the best divorce attorney in the area.”

  “Why do you think I hired him?”

  “Does that mean he didn’t deliver what he promised?”

  “Not even close. He told me where to hide my assets – and I followed his instructions to the letter – and I still got nailed with a huge financial settlement. As far as the judge was concerned, I was a pauper. My ex-wife told him I was hiding money, which he couldn’t prove, and I still got nailed.”

  Jared fought the urge to grab the guy by the collar and start shaking. “So … you’re saying that Mr. Gibbons instructed you to illegally hide funds?”

  It was only then that Chesterfield realized his mistake. He immediately tried to backtrack. “Oh, well … .”

  “You might want to think about what you say from time to time,” Mel suggested. “As for right now, I’m more interested in how many of his clients Gibbons instructed to lie. Did you specifically go to him because you were aware of that tendency?”

  “I’m not sure I should answer that.” Chesterfield turned prim and adopted a grave look. “I was merely caught off guard when I heard about the passing of my former lawyer and I wanted to make sure that you were dedicated to solving his murder.”

  “We’re definitely dedicated,” Jared confirmed. “In fact, since you’re so eager to help, it’s probably best you tell us where you were between the hours of ten and four last night.”

  Chesterfield let loose a pained expression. “Oh, geez. Do I have to?”

  “Yup.”

  “What if I ask for a lawyer?”

  “That’s certainly your prerogative.”

  “If you have nothing to hide, you don’t need a lawyer, though,” Mel prodded.

  “Fine. I’ll tell you. That guy, though, he keeps screwing me. I can’t tell you how glad I am that he’s dead.”

  “Believe it or not, that seems to be a popular sentiment.”

  AFTER SPENDING AN HOUR WITH CHESTERFIELD, Jared and Mel were both convinced he was innocent. That didn’t mean they were happy with his attitude and Mel was more than happy to drop a tip to his divorce judge in case there was something that could be done about the missing funds.

  After that, they went to Gibbons’s office so they could have a sit-down with his law firm’s senior partner Stanley Appleman.

  “I can’t tell you what a shock Carl’s murder was to us,” Appleman said as he ushered the men to his private office and gestured toward two wingback chairs across from his desk. “I expected you to stop by … although I had no idea it would be this soon.”

  “We try not to let murders sit too long,” Jared replied. “This one was especially brutal and we’re worried that we have a violent killer on the loose.”

  “I’m guessing Carl’s clientele will be included in the suspect pool,” Appleman noted, tugging on his suit vest as he sank into his chair. “You should know, we’re going to need a warrant to turn over his case files.”

  “We’re well aware of that,” Mel confirmed. “The necessary paperwork has been filed and we’re waiting for a judge to sign off on it. We’ll deliver it to you once we have it.”

  “Of course. We want to be as helpful as possible.”

  “That’s good,” Jared said. “The thing is, believe it or not, we’ve already had visits from two of his former clients.”

  “I see.”

  “Cheryl Wagner directed us toward her ex-husband, who apparently threatened to castrate Carl. Morris Chesterfield stuck his foot in his mouth and outed himself as a suspect.”

  “I don’t doubt that.” Appleman rubbed his forehead as he shook his head. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. Even though those clients approached you, I still need the warrant to discuss their cases. We’re bound by ethics.”

  “Oh, we’re not here because we want you to talk about Gibbons’s clients,” Mel intoned. “We’re here because we want your insight into the man himself. We’ve been informed that he was instructing his clients to hide money from the court system and are curious if that’s something everyone at this firm does.”

  “Certainly not.” Appleman sat ramrod straight. “We don’t condone that sort of thing. Are you certain that Carl was doing that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well … if we’d known, he would’ve been fired. We strictly follow the letter of the law.”

  He seemed sincere, but Jared had met more than one attorney who could’ve won an Academy Award in his free time. “What can you tell us about Mr. Gibbons?”

  “Well … he was a shark.” Appleman relaxed into his chair. “We added him to the firm because he had a tremendous record when it came to winning cases. That made him a big draw, and he was consistently busy. I would say that eighty percent of his clients were happy with the outcomes of their cases.”

  “Is that good?” Jared asked blankly.

  “That’s phenomenal. You have to understand, when you’re dealing with divorce cases, things can go off the rails relatively quickly. It’s much different than criminal cases, where someone is always guilty of something. Most of the time, when dealing with a contentious divorce, both parties are guilty. The difficult part is trying to figure out the truth, because matters of guilt become a game of degrees.”

  “I can see that,” Mel noted. “Right now, we’re interested in Carl the man. We understand he was dating Gloria Harlow. What can you tell us about their relationship?”

  Jared internally cringed at the question but managed to hold himself together.

  “He brought Gloria to an office party about two weeks ago,” Appleman replied. “They started dating after she interviewed us to see if she wanted to switch attorneys. Apparently, instead of doing that, she decided to date Carl. She was a … peculiar potential client. Her divorce is … messy.”

  “We’re well aware of her divorce,” Mel said. “Trust me. We probably know more about her divorce than you do. I’m more interested in her relationship with Carl. Did you ever see them fight? Was there a reason for her to want to hurt him?”

  “Wait.” Appleman held up a hand. “Is Gloria a suspect?”

  “Gloria is a person of interest.”

  Jared wanted to sink lower in his chair. Only the need for professionalism kept him rigid.

  “Well, I don’t know what I can tell you.” Appleman changed gears quickly. “She’s not a client so there’s no reason I can’t speak openly about her. The thing is, I honestly can’t see her being capable of carrying out a murder. I mean … you’ve met the woman, right? She’s not the sort who likes to get her hands dirty. Besides that, what would be the point? Murder is either a crime of passion or opportunity. What would Gloria get out of either scenario?”

  “They were dating,” Mel pointed out.

  “Yes, but Carl was a dog who cheated his own ex-wife out of money in their divorce and Gloria was known for keeping a man around for two months at the most before gladly moving on. Carl was bragging about that.”

  Jared’s interest was officially piqued. “Wait … Carl screwed his own wife in a divorce?”

  “Yes, Fran. That was also not our case so I can talk about it. He rak
ed her over the coals. That’s how he got his thirst for divorce law and where he cut his teeth. They’ve been divorced about fifteen years or so and he got out of paying any child support even though they had a minor child.”

  “How did he manage that?”

  “Even I’m not privy to that information.” Appleman let loose a hollow chuckle. “Carl was already divorced by the time he joined the firm. He had his own practice back in those days. I only know about it because it was a big deal when everything went down.”

  “I guess I’m confused,” Mel hedged. “Why would the divorce of one attorney be such a big deal?”

  “We’re all in a circle together. Even if we don’t operate out of the same office, we like to gossip about one another. What Carl managed to pull off in his divorce with Fran was nothing short of extraordinary.

  “I mean … she was a stay-at-home mother – at his insistence, mind you – and she had a young boy to take care of,” he continued. “All Carl left her with was the home they shared, which was underwater thanks to a bad mortgage. She had to absorb all that debt and he didn’t give her a dime.”

  “Did he hide funds from her?” Jared asked. “I mean … she should’ve gotten half of everything in his accounts, right?”

  “My understanding is that she didn’t get anything. Whether he hid funds or not … ,” Appleman broke off, clearly uncomfortable with the question.

  “Listen, we’re not idiots,” Mel supplied. “It’s very clear that Gibbons was an unethical lawyer. All of this is going to come out. It’s probably best for you to come clean now so we can tell the reporters who will be asking questions – and the judges, who will probably be interested in what we find out – that you cooperated. Now is not the time to stonewall us.”

  “I have no intention of stonewalling you. I simply need the warrant. We’re in a precarious position for an entirely different reason from what you seem to imagine. I don’t want to cut you out of the information. In fact, the sooner you solve this, the better it is for everyone.”

  “We’ll have the warrant soon,” Mel promised. “Once we do, we need you to work with us. This is going to get ugly if we’re not careful.”