A Ghostly Undertaking (9 page)

 

Chapter 13

I
didn't know much about ghosts, but I was sure Ruthie Sue Payne was avoiding me. Ever since last night and the debacle with Beulah, and finding out that Earl had broken her trust and told Granny exactly where she kept the spider brooch he had given her, Ruthie hadn't shown up. Even when I called out for her.

Good news was that I got some sleep and knew the first thing I needed to do this morning was apologize to Cheryl Lynne Doyle for making a scene at her café last night.

After taking a quick shower and throwing on a pair of jeans and a T-­shirt, I took advantage of the beautiful spring morning and decided to walk to Higher Grounds.

The town square was already buzzing with runners, walkers and gathered groups drinking coffee. Colorful flower baskets hung from the carriage lights lining the sidewalk around the square.

I loved this time of the year, especially when the weather was this nice. Stopping for a brief moment, I bent down to smell the flowers in the decorative urn that was on the sidewalk across the street from Higher Grounds Café. Although, I was admiring the beautiful flowers, I was really building up my self-­confidence to go in and apologize for being . . . crazy.

I wished I could be like the black-­eyed Susan and bask in the morning sun, but it was time to face the music.

A few seconds later, I was across the street and walking in Higher Grounds. The smell circled my nose, making my taste buds water.

“Good morning.” I greeted Cheryl Lynne.

“Emma Lee, we don't want any trouble this morning.” Cheryl wiped her hands off on her apron and walked around from behind the counter. Her blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail, causing her eyes to become taut at the ends and slant upward.

Three of the tables were filled with customers. Of course, Beulah Paige Bellefry was one of them. Just my luck.

Inwardly I groaned, but put a sweet smile on my face. “Morning, Beulah.” It actually pained me to say her name.
Kill them with kindness
, Granny would say. “Cheryl, I'm so sorry for what happened last night. I'm here to apologize. I was only trying to defend my
granny
.” I turned and glared at Beulah, who had an ear turned in my direction, and then I turned back to talk to Cheryl.

“Fine.” Cheryl patted my arm. “We Southern women sure do love our family.” She smiled, giving me the signal that she'd be sure to spread the word. “Let me get you a cup of coffee.”

The glass-­covered platters sitting along the counter were filled with delicious-­looking homemade scones, muffins and doughnuts. Each one looked better than the next.

“Who makes all of your pastries?” My mouth watered.

“I do.” Cheryl's voice escalated with pride. “I get up every morning at three
A.M.
to start baking. I love it.” She looked beyond my shoulder.

“I had no idea you were a baker.” My eyes were bigger than my stomach.

I couldn't decide, looking down the line of goodies. There were long johns, apple fritters, all sorts of scones, cinnamon buns, chocolate doughnuts, some with sprinkles, and a lot of bagels.

I turned around when someone cleared their throat. Vernon Baxter was patiently waiting behind me. I stepped aside.

“I'll take two of those blueberry scones.” Vernon nodded. “Morning, Emma Lee. I should have that report wrapped up soon.”

“Thanks,” I whispered. There was no way I wanted Beulah to know any more than she needed to know.

“Here you go, Dr. Baxter.” Cheryl sat his bag of scones and my to-­go cup on top of the counter and winked.

He tipped his head to me. “I'm on my way to the funeral home. Is Charlotte there to let me in?”

I checked the clock above the counter. “Nine o'clock, she better be there,” I teased.

Of course she was there. Charlotte was never late for anything a day in her life, especially work. I sort of wished she wasn't there because I was sure she had already heard about last night's incident between me and old Beulah.

Thinking about it made me turn around and give Beulah one more good stare.

“See you soon.” Vernon grabbed his bag of scones and headed on out.

“You know, Granny needs to hire you to make pastries for the inn.” I picked up the lid to one of the glass platters and chose a cake doughnut.

“Ruthie and I were already in talks.” Cheryl put the pastry in a bag and handed it to me. “I'm assuming Zula isn't interested since she wants to sell the place.” Cheryl shrugged.

“We'll see about that.” I plucked the bag from her fingers and thanked her. “On second thought, I'll take a ­couple of those scones that Vernon got.”

Cheryl hurried up and bagged them because there was a line forming behind me. I'm sure the crowd came from across the street (the town square) where the scent was sure to float.

“See you soon.” Cheryl handed me another bag.

“See ya.” I wiggled my fingers. I thought about apologizing one more time, but once was probably enough.

“Poor Vernon,” Beulah said as I walked by, just loud enough for me to hear. “He sure was in love with Ruthie. Especially since they were dating.”

“I hope you are doing well this morning, Emma Lee.” Mayor May held the door open for me, winked and waved all at once.

Inwardly, I cringed at her talent of making everyone like her.

“Mayor, I'm so sorry for my behavior. It was very uncalled for, not to mention unprofessional.” I was so glad to run into her. She and Charlotte were always talking about how important it was for business to be involved in the community. Maybe my little apology would stop the mayor from telling Charlotte about last night.

“Oh, don't worry.” She brushed it off. “We all have bad days, don't we?”

“Yes we do.” It was better to leave it at that instead of respond with a big reason for why I did fly off the handle. Granny always said, the less said, the better. I had made my peace and I wasn't going to bring it up again.

Even though I apologized to the right ­people, it was apparent that Beulah was intending to spread gossip about Vernon Baxter and Ruthie.

Which probably wasn't too far from the truth. I recalled Ruthie's reaction when Vernon had come into my office to get Ruthie's file for her autopsy. I recalled him saying that he did spend some time with Ruthie . . . socially.

Vernon was retired, but kept his license current by doing what few autopsies Eternal Slumber had, which wasn't many, per year.

Vernon and Ruthie a ­couple?
I couldn't picture it.
Where was she anyway
?

It was too nice to go back to the funeral home and I had a bag full of blueberry scones. I looked right, down the sidewalk, and decided to walk to the Sleepy Hollow Inn, hoping it was a good time to question Granny with the temptation of a pastry.

Plus, we didn't get to finish our conversation about the developer and what her real plans were. Eternal Slumber didn't have a body, so there was no rush to get back.

“Mornin,' Emma Lee.” John Howard nodded as I walked up to him. He was bent down on the sidewalk, hand picking out the wild weeds from the cement cracks.

He grumbled something about the weeds and how the mayor had asked him to help beautify the sidewalks, with the impending development, and then he threw his hands up in the air.

“Are you okay, John Howard?” I questioned. Frustration settled in his tense jaw.

“No, ma'am.” He flicked his gaze at me. “I'm tired of putting in odd jobs all over the community in order to feed myself. O'Dell Burns offered me a full-­time job doing his odd jobs around Burns Funeral Home.” He stood up and shuffled his feet. He put his dirt-­stained hands in his jeans pockets. “I hate to do it, but going to be giving my two-­week notice. Two weeks is all I have to give, according to O'Dell.”

“I'm sure the mayor will understand.” I had heard that the mayor came up with some odd jobs when John Howard came to her and asked for work.

“I mean two weeks at Eternal Slumber.”

Drawing in a deep breath, I said, “Oh. I . . . I see.”

How could he? Anger swelled inside me. After everything Granny had done for him and he pays us back by leaving when times get tough?

“It's just that no one wants to use Eternal Slumber since . . . since . . .” He beat around the bush.

“Since I came down with the ‘Funeral Trauma.' ” I took the words right out of his mouth.

He shuffled faster, so much so that I thought he was going to be a human street sweeper.

“Fine.” I let him off the hook. “I'll let Charlotte know.”

I could beg him to stay with us and assure him that business was going to turn around, but the hard fact was that it wasn't. At least not until I could prove Granny didn't kill Ruthie and that I wasn't crazy.

Secretly, I thanked every single weed I saw in the sidewalk cracks on my way to the inn, because that meant John Howard had to bend over and pick each and every one of them.

 

Chapter 14

I
found Granny in the kitchen cleaning up the last few plates from breakfast. I sat the bag on the table.

“Good morning.” I walked over and gave Granny a kiss on the cheek.

“How is my Emma Lee this morning?” Granny held me at arm's length to get a good look. She stared into my eyes to see if she saw any crazy.

“I'm fine.
Great
morning.” I pulled away. “John Howard gave his notice. He said Burns gave him a full-­time job.”

“That O'Dell Burns.” Granny threw her towel into the sink, causing it to smack. She grumbled, “I never trusted that man.”

“Luckily, we don't have a lot of business, so he did me a favor by not having to lay him off.”

We sat in silence for a few seconds soaking in the news. I think we were both stunned since we had given John Howard everything he needed. We both knew that even if we didn't have any bodies for a long time, I would've never laid him off. There was always something for him to do around Eternal Slumber.

I changed the subject to a more pleasant topic: Cheryl's delicious pastries.

“Have you tried Cheryl Lynne's scones?” I pushed the bag toward Granny.

“I have.” Granny took the bag and opened it. “They are delicious.”

Granny halved one of the scones and gave me a half.

“Mmm . . .” Granny's eyes closed as she savored the other.

“You should buy some for the inn.” I took my half and dunked it in the coffee.

“We shall see.” Granny went back to the sink. She threw me a towel, which meant for me to get off my butt and help.

“Granny, please tell me about the developer.” I dried each plate carefully. Granny never liked spots to be left on any dish.

“There is really nothing to tell.” She took the plate and placed it in the rack that hung on the wall. “Mayor May introduced him to me. I told Ruthie about it and she protested only because it was the last little bit of Earl that was left for her to hang on to.”

I let Granny talk, but that didn't make sense. Especially if Ruthie was seeing Vernon Baxter.

“Why would you sell? You love this place,” I said.

“I'm getting older.” She put the towel on the counter and leaned up against it. “Earl didn't want to be tied to this place in our later years. Plus it is a great growth opportunity for Sleepy Hollow.”

Everything Granny said made sense.

“But it's a staple in the community.” I picked up the last plate to dry. “Isn't there another piece of property somewhere else they can use?”

“No.” Granny took the last dish, placed it in the rack and wiped down the counter. “Where the inn sits is the only real stable land that won't disturb the structure of the caves. I'm not saying I'm going to do it, but I'm not promising I won't.”

There was some commotion going on in the hallway. I walked out of the kitchen with Granny following me. Suddenly I realized I was the only one who could see what all the fuss was about.

“My picture! You got my picture!” Ruthie was in the foyer looking at the ugliest framed photograph I had ever seen leaning up against the wall. She bounced up and down with delight.

“Emma Lee,” Granny gasped. “Did you go up in the attic and get that gawd-­awful picture out?”

“No.” With my eyes wide open, I protested. “I've never seen it before in my life.”

“I wonder who was snooping in my attic?” Granny walked down the hall and looked in each room. She was sure there was an intruder. “Take it back up to the attic. I have ­people coming here and I don't want anyone to see what this place used to look like.”

Was this the picture that Beulah's friend had mentioned at Higher Grounds Café? Granny wasn't the one I needed to question, Ruthie was. If I took it to the attic like Granny told me to, I'd get Ruthie alone and question why she'd been researching it.

“No! Don't you dare put that away,” Ruthie ordered and stomped her kitty-­slippered feet up the steps right beside me. “If there is one thing that I want, it's that picture.”

I ignored her until we were up the stairs, down the hall and next to the door that led to the scary attic.

“Where have you been?” I asked in a very hushed whisper. I sat the photo down. “I need to ask you all sorts of questions. You won't believe what has been going on around here.”

“Like what?”

“Beulah Paige and I had a very public fight because she is spreading gossip about why I'm going out with Jack Henry tonight.”
Amazing Grace
, my phone sang. I pulled it out to check what was on the agenda. I almost forgot that I had a hair appointment at noon. I put the phone back in my pocket. “You wanted two million dollars to sell this place and why do you want this photograph so badly?” I picked it up and shoved it in her face.

“Calm down, Emma Lee.” Ruthie put her hands out to dampen my temper.

We both turned when we heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I opened the door to the attic and we walked up slowly, and in the dark.

“I hate this attic,” I growled and knocked something with my feet. I pulled the cell back out of my pocket and used the flashlight app to offer some light.

There was an old box that was partially hidden under one of the floorboards that caught my attention.

I sat the picture back down and pulled the tin box out. It looked like an old safety deposit box.

“Two million was to throw Zula off because I know this place isn't even worth a million. I had no idea Zula had gone as far as to call a developer.” She rubbed her chin. “I had bigger issues to worry about. I think I might have a next of kin that is hidden in that picture.” Ruthie's words sent chills up my spine. She pressed her nose up to the glass surface, and took her time looking at each person in the photo.

“What?” This could be the biggest news since her death was claimed a murder, and another clue. “These ­people look poor, and you are far from poor.”

I held the phone flashlight up to the image so I could see better. There were six smiling ­people in the photo. Each one was wearing bibbed overalls. They weren't the cleanest bunch I'd ever seen. It didn't look like they had used water or gone to the dentist . . .
ever.

“Family is family,” Ruthie spouted. “I'm not sure, but I found this old picture at an estate sale a few months back and it spoke to me.”

“Spoke to you?” Who was the crazy one here? “That's it.” I grabbed the picture and was going to put it in an empty spot when she stopped me.

“Please, Emma Lee,” Ruthie begged. “It's something. I just don't know what.”

I picked up the old box from underneath the floorboard.

“Please.” Ruthie was almost in tears. “Just try to check it out. What do we have to lose?”

I didn't know if I felt sorry for her or if something really was telling me to listen to her, but I took a chance. One problem, I had no clue how to find out who these ­people were.

“All right.” I put the framed photo under one arm and the box under the other. “Let's get out of here without Granny seeing us . . . er . . me taking these.”

Ruthie's smile was as long as the old country road that leads all the way down to the Kentucky River.

I eased down the steps, trying not to let them groan under me, and slowly opened the door. The coast was clear. We made it down the steps without seeing Granny.

I turned when I heard voices coming from the front snack room and peeked my head around the corner. Granny and Scott Michaels had their backs to me, with Mayor May looking over their shoulders.

Mayor May and I made brief eye contact before she winked and waved.

I jerked back.

Please don't mention last night, again
. I prayed that Mayor May would let my apology ride and not worry Granny with my behavior.

I rushed out before anyone else saw me.