A Passion for Haunted Fashion Page 3

She’d been listening to her ghost boyfriend. Samuel Sanders was a dearly departed private investigator. So of course now Charlotte thought she was a gumshoe. Ever since he’d popped up on the scene of another crime, Charlotte and Sam had been an item. He’d died in the Forties and Charlotte murdered only recently, so they were from different decades. Nevertheless, they made their relationship work.

  “So can she go now?” I crossed my arms in front of my waist.

  I wanted to get Heather out of there as soon as possible. I was worried about her condition after the way I’d seen her last.

  Dylan stared for a second and said, “Yes, she can go.”

  “But for how long?” Charlotte tapped her foot against the floor.

  I wasn’t even going to find out that answer right now. We’d worry about that later. With any luck they’d find the killer soon and this would all be over.

  “Are we still on for tonight?” Dylan asked.

  We had plans for a movie and dinner, but now I wasn’t sure I should go.

  “Maybe I should be with Heather tonight,” I said.

  Dylan peered down at his recently polished black shoes. “Sure. Another night.”

  After a pause, Dylan turned to get Heather.

  “I’m sure Heather will be fine,” Charlotte said.

  Charlotte just wanted me to keep my date with Dylan. I sat in the chair again while I waited. Though I couldn’t sit still. Charlotte was glaring at me. Peggy seemed in her own little world as she popped her bubble gum. After a couple minutes, Heather emerged from the back room.

  I jumped up. “Are you okay?”

  She made eye contact this time. That was a good sign.

  “I just want to get out of here,” she said in a hushed tone.

  After saying good-bye to Dylan we walked out of the police station and over to my car.

  “She’s lucky they let her go. If we don’t find the killer she could be in prison for the rest of her life,” Charlotte said.

  I was glad Heather couldn’t hear Charlotte’s words.

  We got in the car and pulled away.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

  “I suppose I have to,” Heather said as she leaned her head back onto the seat. “I think I need a lawyer. Can we go see Ken?”

  Ken was the attorney in town. I’d become close friends with him recently. Charlotte liked my friendship with him because she thought if things didn’t work out with Dylan I could date Ken. That was Charlotte . . . always wanting me to have a date.

  “Sure we can go see him.” I made a left at the light.

  Maybe it was a good idea to pay him a visit. I drove through the historic section of town. Old brick buildings that had been lovingly cared for over the years lined the main artery. Tall oak trees covered in Spanish moss shaded the streets. A mix of businesses made up the storefronts. Everything from an antique shop to Dixie Bryant’s Glorious Grits diner. After passing the shops I arrived at Ken’s office. No sooner had I pulled up to the curb and shoved the car into park, Heather climbed out.

  “Wow, she really is in a hurry,” Charlotte said.

  Peggy sighed from the backseat. Charlotte and I exchanged a look.

  “Is everything all right back there, Peggy?” I asked.

  “I just wish I could remember what happened to me or why I’m still hanging around that old theater,” Peggy said.

  “Don’t worry, Peggy, I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

  Charlotte was giving me that look. What was I supposed to say? No, Peggy, you’re doomed to never know the truth? I had to try to make Peggy feel better.

  I hurried out with the ghosts right behind me.

  “By the way, I have a new ghost,” I said as we rushed down the sidewalk.

  Maybe this would take Heather’s mind off her problems for just a bit. It would provide a distraction.

  Heather stopped in her tracks. “Is it Morris?”

  It hurt to see how excited she was about the thought of Morris being here. I knew she hoped he could tell her who had murdered him.

  “Oddly enough, no. There was a ghost in the basement of the theater.”

  Heather looked around. “Who is it?”

  She always tried to find the ghost even though she couldn’t see them. Which was ironic since she gave readings and pretended to speak with spirits.

  “She’s been dead for a long time,” I whispered. “A ghost from the 1950s. Her name is Peggy.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Cookie, she knows she’s dead.” Charlotte waved her hands.

  “Anyway, she’s with me now.”

  Heather slumped her shoulders even more, which I hadn’t thought possible. “I was hoping Morris would be here so he could tell me who killed him.”

  “I wish that was the case,” I said.

  We stepped into Ken’s office. A small lobby area with leather chairs was to the right. Movement sounded from the room to the left. A couple seconds later he appeared in the doorway. He wore a brown Brooks Brothers suit. I knew because he’d recently purchased it from my shop. Brianna said he’d come in one day when I wasn’t there. Under the jacket he wore a crisp white shirt, and a yellow tie with a blue polka-dot pattern across the fabric. His look was especially retro today. Normally, that wasn’t his style.

  “Cookie, I wasn’t expecting you to stop by.” His smile spread across his face.

  Apparently he hadn’t heard the news.

  “There’s been a murder,” I blurted out.

  His eyes widened. “Who? Where?”

  “At Sugar Creek Theater. It was Morris.”

  “Who killed him?” Ken leaned against the door frame.

  Charlotte, Peggy, and I cast a quick glimpse at Heather. Luckily, she didn’t notice my actions. It was a reflex. I certainly didn’t mean to imply her guilt.

  “We don’t know,” I said.

  “But they think I did it,” Heather said.

  Ken stepped back into his office and to the side. “Please come in my office and have a seat.”

  All of this was so scary, and I knew Heather was terrified. We followed Ken across the room. Shelves filled with law books lined the walls. Two windows allowed sunlight to stream into the room. Other than that the room seemed a bit sad.

  “Please have a seat.” He gestured toward the leather chairs in front of his desk.

  “Thank you,” I said as we sat.

  Ken perched on the corner of the desk. “Tell me what happened.”

  Heather and I talked at the same time.

  “You go first,” Heather said with a wave of her hand.

  I attempted a comforting smile. It probably looked more like a grimace. “I heard a scream. When I came upstairs from the theater’s basement, I saw Heather. She had found Morris. She was covered in blood, so you can see why someone might think she had something to do with his murder.”

  “Yes, I can see where that would be an assumption,” Ken said.

  “I didn’t do it.” Heather’s voice came out as a screech.

  “What did the police say?” Ken asked.

  Heather explained the whole experience of her visit to the police station, which was what I had expected happened. They asked her questions about the murder. Of course she knew nothing about it. I was almost sure Heather was being dramatic when she said they threatened to torture her.

  “It was as if the detective was trying to get me to confess,” Heather said.

  “Dylan?” I asked. “He would never do that.”

  “Uh-oh, trouble in paradise,” Charlotte said as she peered out the window.

  “No, the other one . . . Charlie was his name.” Heather waved her hand.

  I’d met him before. He was Dylan’s boss. I didn’t particularly like him. He seemed harsh and cold. I was just happy to find out it hadn’t been Dylan doing that to Heather.

  “If they call, you have them speak with me. Don’t talk to them without me,” Ken said.

  “Ken is just happy that he gets to stand up to Dylan
,” Charlotte said.

  I didn’t think that was the case. The rivalry wasn’t that bad, right?

  “Thank you,” Heather said.

  “We’d better let you get back to work,” I said.

  “Do you see the way he’s looking at you, Cookie? It’s love.” Charlotte stood beside Ken’s desk.

  Peggy was next to her. “He does look a bit smitten.”

  I ignored Charlotte and Peggy. Charlotte was always trying to be the matchmaker. I didn’t need help with my dating life.

  Ken walked us to the door. “If you need anything call me.”

  “Thanks again,” I said as we headed out the door.

  “I’ll call you soon, Cookie.” Ken waved.

  I tossed my hand up. “Talk to you soon.”

  “Oh, he’s calling you,” Peggy said in a singsong voice. “That means he really must like you.”

  Charlotte laughed.

  “We’re just friends,” I said as I climbed behind the wheel of the Buick.

  Ken waved again as we pulled away from the curb.

  “I’m just saying if things don’t work out with Dylan . . .” Charlotte let her words trail off.

  “I’m glad we talked to him,” Heather said.

  “So you feel a little better?” I asked as I made the next right.

  “Yes, I guess so. I just need to go home and shower.”

  “Heather doesn’t sound convinced of her relief,” Peggy said.

  “I wondered when she was going to wash the rest of that blood off,” Charlotte said.

  I pointed the car in the direction of Heather’s place.

  I pulled into her driveway and cut the engine. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks for everything, Cookie. What would I do without you?” Heather hugged me.

  Charlotte chuckled. “Probably not be involved in a murder investigation. Cookie was the one who talked you into being in the play.”

  I scowled at Charlotte.

  She held her hands up. “What? I just call it like I see it.”

  Chapter 4

  Cookie’s Savvy Tips for Vintage Shopping

  Having a budget is a good idea.

  Stick to it so you can get exactly what you want.

  No unintended purchases.

  I had to help my best friend. There was no way I would let her go to prison for something she didn’t do. That meant that I had to find the killer. At least I had help. Charlotte and Peggy were more than willing to seek out the murderer. They weren’t the only ones offering aid. My grandma Pearl wanted to help. She just happened to be in the body of Wind Song the cat. Grandma Pearl was good with finding clues and communicating through the Ouija board and tarot cards.

  The next morning, I was headed into town to open my shop It’s Vintage Y’all. Being surrounded by vintage clothing always made me feel better. Charlotte sat in the passenger seat as usual, and Peggy was in the backseat with Grandmother Pearl. It was hard to decide what to call Grandma. Sometimes I used her cat name, which was Wind Song. It just depended on who I felt was the more prominent spirit at the time since they were both in the cat’s body. My grandmother’s spirit had somehow gotten inside the cat’s body during a séance. I had a feeling my grandmother did that on purpose. Either way, I was happy to have her in my life. The cat was still there, but my grandmother was mostly in charge of the communicating.

  I parked my Buick in front of the shop. The bright red convertible certainly attracted a lot of attention. The chrome gleamed and the paint sparkled under the warm sunshine. It was a work of art.

  I bundled Wind Song into my arms and carried her through the door. Once inside she jumped out of my arms and raced to her favorite spot in the front window. I flipped the sign to OPEN. Summer had arrived in Sugar Creek, which meant it was time for a new window display. I figured I would do a cute picnic scene in one window and a beach party theme in the other.

  The outside of my building was hardy plank, which I’d painted a beautiful shade of lavender. The inside walls were the same hue. I had a shabby chic Hollywood glam theme as the décor. After making my way to the back of the shop, I flipped on the music so that it could play faintly in the background. Glenn Miller’s “Moonlight Serenade” played—it was one of my favorites. There was nothing like the oldies to make people in the mood to buy vintage clothing.

  I had called Heather this morning to check on her. She said she was okay, but I heard the distress in her voice. I tried to convince her to close her shop today, but she insisted that she needed to work. She’d have to have the extra money to pay for Ken. Maybe the work would keep her mind off things.

  I wish there was a way I could help her more, but I wasn’t exactly sitting on a stockpile of cash either.

  “You know, there is something you could do,” Charlotte said, motioning toward the front of the store with a tilt of her head.

  Had she read my mind? I followed her direction. She pointed at the cat. I watched Wind Song as she sat in the window. Her tail swayed back and forth. She opened one eye. My grandmother always knew when something was up.

  “She will only talk when she’s ready. You know how finicky she is,” I said.

  “How ironic. You’re just like her, you know,” Charlotte said.

  “I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peggy said around a sigh.

  The next song changed. Glenn Miller again, but this time it was “In the Mood.”

  “Hey, you think you can turn up this song? It’s the cat’s meow. Cat’s meow. Get it?” Peggy snorted.

  Charlotte rolled her eyes.

  “Sorry, Peggy, if I play it too loud people will complain.”

  “Well, there isn’t exactly a stampede now, is there?” She blew a bubble with her bubble gum and let it pop.

  Charlotte laughed. “So, back to the cat.”

  “Why do you keep saying you’ll talk to her? Are you all nutso?” Peggy asked.

  Charlotte and I exchanged a look.

  “You might as well tell her,” Charlotte said with a wave of her hand.

  “Tell me what?” Peggy stopped smacking the gum.

  “The cat talks to us through the Ouija board and tarot cards.” I rushed the words.

  She scrunched her brow. “Like a psychic? Your cat is psychic?”

  “That’s right,” I said.

  Peggy scoffed and twirled her index finger beside her temple. “Bonkers.”

  “Actually, the cat is my grandmother.”

  Peggy’s eyes widened. “Perhaps I should have thought leaving the theater with you through more thoroughly.”

  “It’s true,” Charlotte said. “I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen the whole thing play out.”

  Peggy continued to look at us skeptically.

  “You’ll see for yourself,” I said.

  The bell above the door chimed and Heather walked through the door. We all rushed over to her.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  Heather plopped down on the velvet settee. “As well as can be expected, I guess.”

  “You’re doing better than Morris,” Peggy said.

  Charlotte laughed.

  Wind Song jumped down from the window and over to the settee. She hopped up onto Heather’s lap and meowed.

  “How sweet . . . Grandma Pearl is comforting you too,” I said.

  Heather stroked the cat’s head. “We have to ask your grandmother for help.”

  I suppose Heather was right, but Grandma Pearl hadn’t shown any interest in using the tarot cards or Ouija board today. I didn’t like to push her.

  “Grandma, would you like to use the board?”

  Wind Song leapt down from Heather’s lap and over to the counter. She jumped up and I knew that was her answer.

  That was where we had our sessions most of the time. I pulled the board from under the counter. For the longest time I’d fought having a board in my shop. I was afraid of bad spirits coming through. So far, though, that hadn’t happened, and it
was much easier to keep a board here for when Grandma wanted to talk. After all, it seemed as if the bad people were the living ones murdering people. Ghosts only annoyed me by singing while I tried to sleep and popping up in the bathroom while I tried to shower.

  I placed the board in front of Wind Song. “Grandma Pearl, is this you talking or Wind Song?”

  She thrust her delicate paw forward and placed it on the planchette. Slowly she moved it around.

  “Wow, and all this time I thought you all were crazy,” Peggy said. “She really is using that thing.”

  “I told you it was the truth,” I said.

  “Trust me, dear, I never lie.” Charlotte gave a smug little smile.

  Wind Song started spelling a word. The first letter was an E. She moved on to an N. Suspense hung in the air like a thick cloud.

  “What is she spelling?” Heather asked with hope in her voice.

  I so wanted this to be information that we could use to find the killer. Finally, Wind Song stopped moving the planchette. She had spelled out the word enemies.

  “Who has enemies?” Heather asked.

  “Morris?” I asked with a click of my tongue.

  Chapter 5

  Charlotte’s Tips for a Fabulous Afterlife

  If the person you’re attached to threatens you with

  holy water or exorcism, don’t worry.

  That only works on the bad spirits.

  After the Ouija board session we had planned a trip to visit where Morris worked. We had to find out if he had any enemies. A workplace seemed like the perfect place to discover that. Maybe it was someone at work who didn’t like him.

  “There will always be someone who doesn’t like you,” Charlotte said. “We just have to find out if the person who didn’t like Morris was angry or crazy enough to commit murder.”

  I hoped someone who worked with Morris would know something. Morris worked at the manufacturing company on the edge of town. It wasn’t exactly a dangerous job or one where he’d make many enemies. At least I didn’t think so, but I could definitely be wrong.

  “Maybe he got a promotion over someone else,” Peggy said.

  “Good point, Peggy,” Charlotte said.

  It was a little over an hour before the end of the workday for the company. Luckily, it was time for me to close the shop for the evening. I’d drop Wind Song off at home and head over to Morris’s former place of employment. I’d be heading past my house on the way there, although I figured Grandma Pearl would want to tag along. I didn’t want to leave her in the car, and I knew people would look at me strangely if I brought a cat inside.