Ghosts and Goblins and Murder Page 2

  I was so done with this conversation. Before I could think, I acted, turning abruptly to hack a massive slice from the black fondant graveyard, whipping around with crumbs flying, beaming a smile. “Cake?”

  She had no idea how close she was to wearing it.

  I don’t know where she came from or how long she’d observed our little conversation from hell, but the only thing that saved Vivian from a face full of red velvet was Daisy. She appeared out of nowhere, slipping in between me and the hideous creature hiding behind blue eyes and sparkles, her height and curvaceous figure easily outgunning the bakery queen. Vivian’s face snapped to irritation but she backed off as my best friend beamed at her, hands clasping in front of her while she looked Vivian up and down much as the witch had done to me.

  “Why, Vivs,” she gushed, “what a treat! Thank you for coming. But this is a costume party.” She tsked with fake chastisement, as if the blonde were one of the little girls running around, unhinged and over sugared. “But nice effort!”

  Vivian didn’t respond, flat, furious expression crackling over her perfect face. She spun and marched away, the too-short flounce of her gigantic skirt bobbing, skinny legs sticking out beneath.

  “Looks like a chicken from the back,” Daisy said with faint concern. “Poor thing needs to eat a sandwich.”

  I gasped a half-laugh, half-sob, setting down my spatula and turning away so she wouldn’t see how close I was to crying. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciated the rescue, but the fact I’d almost lost it in front of Vivian of all people… I was better than this.

  Daisy tried to talk, but I shook my head, instead plastering on a fake smile and continuing to hand out dessert, though I think my lingering attitude scared a few kids away. Oh well, more cake for me.

  Forty-five minutes later, as the party wrapped up, I hastily cleaned my station with more aggression than necessary, no further along the path to recovering from my encounters than I was when they happened. I pretended I didn’t see Daisy and Mom, Dad assisting, tearing down the tunnel curtains. I just wasn’t in the right headspace to join their laughter.

  Great party. Could I go home now, please?

  “Fiona, dear.” Olivia’s visit was the last thing I needed. I turned partway around, hands full of dirty plates and the partially eaten bits of sculpted haunted house I prepped to toss in the trash, knowing I probably didn’t look welcoming but pretty much over being here already. “Come to my office at some point. I have something to discuss with you that may be to our mutual advantage.” She didn’t specify or even seem to notice I had other things on my mind than her agenda, but marched away, head high. As if she’d had a lovely time and wasn’t this just the best party ever?

  Grunt. Whatever she wanted, I was about as far from caring as I could get and might never be in the mood to “discuss” at this rate. Olivia’s scheming might have been helpful, but she’d been declining in popularity and I had no doubt she was on the edge of desperation to get herself back into the good graces of the council. While I understood such motivation, I had no desire to get wrapped up in whatever it was she had in mind next. I’d already earned a reputation as a nosy busybody who had terrible luck when it came to dead people. The last thing I wanted at this point was to exacerbate talk about my character by siding with Olivia when she was on the way out.

  Wow, that was callous and really not like me. I blamed it on the bad day I’d been having and went back to work.

  Choosing to conveniently forget Olivia’s sort of offer, kind of command, I finished cleaning with a sigh, wrapping up a piece of cake for myself with sad determination to eat the whole thing as fast as I could the second I got home before getting into pajamas and climbing under the covers to watch TV until I stopped the urge to cry myself into throwing up.

  Great plan. Sold.

  ***

  Chapter Three

  It was harder than I thought to avoid Mom, Dad and Daisy on my way out, but I managed. I did feel a bit wretched about not staying to finish the full clean up, but I just couldn’t be in public anymore. Petunia panted next to me as I walked the few blocks home, head down, giant hat in one hand, cake clutched in the other, the loop of my pug’s leash around my wrist. Not like I needed to leash her. She could barely run, so even if she did take off she’d make it all of five steps before her fat butt collapsed from the effort. Still, it was comforting to be linked to her like this.

  And I needed all the comfort I could get right about now. Pathetic, but true.

  Was my biological clock ticking? I blinked as burning in the corners of my eyes told me I very well might have been suppressing such thoughts. It wasn’t like I longed for kids or anything. It was true I’d been feeling a bit on the lonely side lately, but I’d also been crazy busy, too. Running a bed and breakfast wasn’t exactly the kind of lifestyle conducive to meeting a life partner. There were a lot of weeks, months even, I barely had time to shower let alone make space for love. Hard not to accept that I’d been dragging my feet, though, since my ex’s devastating actions sent me scurrying back home to Reading. I wondered if Ryan was still with whatever-her-name-was or if he’d cheated on her and moved on already.

  Whatever. She could have him. They deserved each other. And, if there was a goddess out there looking out for women like me, Ryan’s side-chick cheated on him this time and he was the one who ended up with the broken heart. Not much of a hope there, but I still used it some nights to keep me warm.

  If I was going to be totally honest with myself—and when wasn’t I?—I had to admit being the strong, independent businesswoman, while a great example for young women, didn’t do much for me in the heart department. I didn’t need a partner, but… but. It would have been nice.

  Who was I kidding? I was so over being alone. Not enough to go for just anyone, or to make another mistake like I had with Ryan. Alone still sucked, though.

  There were lots of women out there who balanced a great job and/or business of their own, kids and a spouse, though, weren’t there? So I could try to blame me being busy for my present state all I wanted, blame Ryan for cheating for making me reticent to try again. I could keep lying to myself, or I could stop waiting for Crew Turner to ask me out and find someone who wasn’t emotionally unavailable. Unless, of course, waiting meant I was just as screwed up as he was.

  There was some happy thinking.

  I’d made it barely a block, the self-flagellation of my slow plod home in full swing, when the whole horrible experience of the last hour came to a stunning and inevitable head. Maybe I was asking for it, thinking about myself the way I did, or maybe it was just coincidence. But whatever the role fate played in that moment, I was just stepping into the crosswalk when a sheriff’s car pulled up, the driver’s window rolling down and my cousin Robert—thick black mustache and smarmy grin and all—came to a halt beside me.

  “Fanny.” He winked, easing the car forward as I kept walking, refusing to look him in the eye. “How’s the local busybody? Have anyone die on you lately?” My most despised extended family member had become a deputy out of high school because I couldn’t. And made sure I knew it at graduation, too. While I normally brushed off his pathetic attempts to hurt me, I’d fallen again into the Fee Sucks fan club. Meaning his use of my hated nickname from high school cut like a knife. Not to mention the jab about my unfortunate penchant for my proximity to the recently deceased.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Wow, that was a great insult, Fee. Way to muster anything resembling wit and cold disdain. Best I could do considering I’d used up my best material on myself already.

  Robert must have sensed I was down and out, because he seized on the opportunity to strike. “Just saying,” he grinned. “No one likes a snoop, Fanny.” He chuckled to himself while I internalized his insults and added them to the litany against me despite my best efforts not to.

  Apparently my lack of response wasn’t what he had in mind. “Looks like you didn’t take my advice last spring. That ass is big
ger than ever.” With that insult added to hurt, he decided to add injury to the list of offerings. Before I knew what was happening, he reached out his driver’s window and smacked me.

  Smacked. My. Butt.

  I stopped abruptly, staring at him in shock but unable to do anything. Not react, not lash out. Nada, the big el zilcho, thanks for playing.

  He seemed to take my silence as some kind of attack, though, and flinched suddenly, paling. Like he knew he’d gone too far at last. “Be seeing you, Fanny,” he said before he peeled out, cutting off a car coming behind him, laying on his horn when they beeped their protest.

  I stood there in the crosswalk, stunned and unable to move, until a pickup truck tooted impatiently for me to get moving. Which I did, in a lurching kind of startled reaction, certain I’d still be standing there, growing roots in the street, if the driver hadn’t come along.

  Maybe Robert knew he’d crossed a line—I could easily have reported him for assault. That could get him fired. I knew Dad would back me and that Crew would. Or would he? I plodded on, startled but unable to stop when I realized I was crying silently, tears landing on the plastic wrapped cake I clutched to my chest.

  Petunia’s soft whine broke sorrow’s hold as she looked up at me, clearly aware something was wrong. I stopped again, this time out of traffic, and scratched one of her ears, hearing her moan softly in delight at the attention, the last of my tears making bright, shining beads on her fawn coat.

  “I have nothing to feel badly about.” I wiped at my face before heading for home again, forcing my shoulders back. “I have a great life.” I did, too. “I’m just fine on my own, aren’t I?” I looked down at Petunia who panted happily back. “Besides, I have you.” Yup, my pug counted.

  A bench beckoned and rather than drag my pathetic and apparently fat butt back home just yet, I sat on the street side with my pug at my feet and proceeded to eat my cake with my fingers, feeding bits to the already full—and yet eternally empty—dog beside me.

  “It’s silly to feel this way, Petunia,” I said, quietly, though there was no one else around to overhear me. “What is wrong with people?” I picked at the remains of the cake, not even wanting it, really, setting it aside with a sigh, mind still going in circles. “Is Sadie right?” Though I’d never been one to go looking for confrontation, it was apparent I needed to confront this or let it ruin the rest of my day. And maybe my life. “Is my clock ticking?” I looked down at Petunia who licked her chops, head tilting, black ears perked. She muttered something in pugspeak and I nodded. “I’m twenty-nine,” I said, remembering my brief party last month when Daisy, Mom and Dad and the Jones ladies sang me a quick rendition of the birthday song in between guest arrivals, no time for a proper celebration. “So I guess it might be.” Did I even want kids? Maybe. Someday. With the right person. Or even alone if I decided that was the way I wanted to go. But I didn’t realize until she’d brought it up just how alone I’d been feeling. “So it’s true. I’ve been waiting for Crew.” I accepted that finally. He hadn’t asked me to. In fact, he said when he was ready to date again, if I was free, we’d give it a try.

  My ridiculous little heart took that statement and made it all about waiting for him to hurry up and ask me. Instead of moving on. Though, to be honest, there wasn’t much in the form of potential here in town. Didn’t mean I couldn’t consider someone in a nearby community, though.

  No longer drowning in my own angst, I rose, depositing the remains of my cake in the trash can beside the bench—to Petunia’s horror—and finally went home, feeling a bit better and with a plan, at least. To stop waiting and accept that there was a good chance “my” Crew might never be ready. Or, that when he was, I was firmly determined not to be.

  Vivian could have him. I just wished I believed I wouldn’t die of jealousy if that was how this story ended.

  ***

  Chapter Four

  The house felt empty to me as I entered, the big grandfather clock in the foyer chiming 4PM as I walked through the door. I was without guests the next two days, a rarity since I’d taken over the B&B, and a welcome bit of quiet, to be honest. The next two months were fully booked, right to the first week of January, this odd little lull the perfect window for me to catch my breath, get some minor things finished to the house and recoup my energy before the next wave of excited tourists rolled through Reading.

  No complaints, honest.

  But typically the house would at least have two bodies in it before 5PM. I paused in the entry, Petunia free from her leash to wander down the hall toward the kitchen, and had to remind myself there was a perfect timing fairy and that she had my best interests at heart. Because this was the week Mary and Betty Jones were both out, my two elderly employees taking time off so the more silent of the two could have knee surgery. Naturally, Mary had to be with her the entire time, since the two were never apart. Though Betty wasn’t exactly a great conversationalist and Mary had grunting, ancient opinions about things that made me eye roll at times, I missed their presence.

  Yes, yes. It wasn’t lost on me, this feeling of being alone all over again. Sigh.

  I followed my pug to the door to the kitchen and swung it open, letting her precede me. She continued on toward the back door, the doggy flap just barely big enough to accommodate her girth. Every effort I’d made to cut down her weight ended in failure thanks to the sisters, my parents and Daisy. Pretty much everyone who loved her fed her things she wasn’t supposed to have.

  Including me, at least today. She’d be pooping red velvet for weeks.

  Knowing I’d have to go outside eventually and clean up her deposit—at least she hadn’t started farting yet, there was a silver lining that would turn black and revolting by the time we went to bed—I instead tossed my witch hat to the back of one of the stools at the counter and leaned against the tall, tiled surface. Mom had been here earlier to finish her prep for the party, but you’d never know it. To my relief, she and Dad volunteered to help me out while the sisters were gone and I’d be needing them in short order. Nice to have them around so much.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening poking around the B&B, trying to muster the energy to tackle any number of small jobs. I needed to repaint the front steps at some point, and room six could use a new number, the old one rather tarnished. There were always emails to check, the website to update. I simply couldn’t focus, drifting from one thing to the next until darkness fell, the tired pug who followed me around yawning and tooting, grumbling about still being up and around though it was only early yet.

  We ended up where I’d feared we would, in bed, the TV on though I didn’t really watch much, flipping through channels while Petunia snored happily at my side. When I finally hit the power button and sighed, staring at the ceiling, I had to admit I was depressed.

  Not hard core, give me meds, hysterical calls to my therapist depressed. Just… blue.

  This wasn’t me. And yet, as I lay there, more tears trickling down my temples into my hair, a faint hitch in my breath, I realized it was.

  I turned over abruptly, a change of scenery necessary. My gaze caught and settled on the music box sitting on my side table. I reached for it, touched the top with the tips of my fingers, stroking the soft, red velvet inlay before I lifted the lid and listened to the familiar song tinkling from within, the tiny ballerina turning endlessly in response.

  It was inevitable I’d open the secret compartment, examine the map piece with its off-center compass, the gold doubloon heavy in my hand, image stamped into it faded to a faint impression. Though exciting at the time, I hated that this mystery hit a dead end like it did. Maybe the Reading horde was a real thing and maybe it wasn’t. Leaving this unresolved just added to my sense of gloom.

  I fell asleep in a terrible state of mind. And woke the next morning crabby and out of sorts. Awesome.

  Instead of allowing myself to wallow further, I threw myself into work. A quick greeting for Mom—already hard at it in the kitche
n—fast enough I could avoid inevitable questioning from the always intuitive Lucy Fleming, I focused all of my day on smothering my horrible state of mind and heart with the kind of business that required my absolute attention.

  It worked, to a point. I was dirty, sweaty and only mildly grumpy by the time Daisy arrived at five to complete the interior decorations. Outside had been done weeks ago, Olivia’s town initiative ensuring everyone had at least something festive to flaunt at their gate for the big night ahead. I’d put off the inside stuff until Daisy could give me a hand, though it had been out of the desire to spend a fun evening with her drinking wine and giggling over the task.

  Yeah, likely not going to go the way I’d hoped, no fault of my bestie’s.

  She took one look at me and froze, her giant smile fading in a flash, big, expressive eyes flooding with concern as genuine as she was. Daisy dropped her bags of goodies at the door and hurried to me where I slumped in the middle of the foyer, unable to muster even a small grin.

  She hugged me like I wasn’t in serious need of a shower before shaking me a little, that determined look on her stunning face that gave me a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “You,” she said, “need a night out.”

  Well… maybe.

  She hesitated a moment before shaking her head. “Listen, I know you’re not a fan.” Great way to start a conversation. “But.” She beamed again, all enthusiasm returning in a brilliant flash that made me wince. Cranky? Check. Pessimistic naysayer? Check. Worst friend ever? Oh, checkity-check-check-check.

  I know she saw my resistance, but Daisy was really good at getting what she wanted. Mostly by being completely kind and understanding and an excellent listener.