The First Ghost (8 page)

“Anyway, about the girl haunting me. Her murder is unsolved.”

Mother put down her coffee. “No. Absolutely not. Do
not
get involved in that sort of thing. It’s a dreadful idea. You’ll end up like Eleanor.” She said my cousin’s name with great distaste.

“I know you don’t approve, but is what Ellie does so bad?”

“Bad things can happen. Do you want to be labeled as a witch or treated like some fruitcake? Do you want to be another Elizabeth? Do you?”

“It doesn’t seem to have hurt Ellie.”

Her face darkened. “Ellie isn’t even very good at what she does. So she can read things from objects. Big deal.”

“But she works with the police. She’s helped solve murders and kidnappings.”

“She’s provided tiny bits of info on cases they probably would have solved anyway. Really! The dog-and-pony show she puts on.”

When I was younger, I didn’t get Mother's obsession with secrecy. I realized that the women in my family were different. On my tenth birthday, I learned just how different. Mother said we were special, but I knew it wasn’t all roses and accolades. Mahaffey women had been hunted as witches, burned as heretics and locked up as insane. Even with the current acceptance, fad even, of all things ghostly, she fears the repercussions of public exposure.

My cousin Eleanor has broken this taboo in a very public way. She has her own TV show,
PI: Psychic Investigators
.

“The way Ellie carries on you’d think she could cure cancer. That stuff on TV is nothing but trouble. She gets people so stirred up.” Mother was gearing up into a full-blown Anti-Eleanor rant. I couldn’t very well tell her I meant to go ask Eleanor for help with Corinne’s murder. Mother didn’t understand my predicament.

How could she understand when her experience with the dead was little old ladies picking out pewter urns and mauve coffin linings? She didn’t see demons or residuals. God only knows what other horrors were waiting for me out there. But I did need one thing from her.

“Mother, can I borrow the hearse?”

Walter had the formal white hearse and Harry the van, but I was happy to have the black hearse for transportation. Driving a hearse isn’t as bad as it sounds. The gas mileage sucks, but people are afraid to cut you off and the police never stop you.

The funeral home was already on the edges of Canterbury Park, but Billy and I headed even deeper into the wilds of suburbia to reach Eleanor’s split-level, ranch-style house with its concrete walkway. All the houses were uniformly tidy with brown brick facades and hedges stretched across the front yards like green mustaches. Suburban paradise. I’d rather die than live here. Give me the anonymity of the city over the forced chumminess of the ’burbs any day.

I parked at the curb and mentally girded my loins. At least at this time of day Ellie’s perfect hubby and perfect daughters would be gone. The front window curtains fluttered. I had been spotted.

I trotted up to the door, which opened before I could knock.

Eleanor’s hair hung in a smooth red pageboy. I could probably blow-dry mine out the same way if I spent a small fortune on curl-relaxers and round brushes and an ionic dryer. Probably.

“This is quite a surprise.” Her expression smoothed when she saw Billy at my heels. “What a precious little dog!” She squatted down. “Hello, baby.” Billy wagged all over and flopped, presenting his belly for rubbing. “Aren’t you the cutest? Come in, Portia, and I’ll get a treat for this little angel. It’s much too cold for him. Why doesn’t he have a sweater on?”

“Everyone’s a dog expert today.”

She didn’t seem to be expecting anybody, and yet Eleanor had a pot of coffee and a coffee cake on the ready. That’s how they do things in the ’burbs. We sat at the blond oak table with a tasteful winter arrangement featuring plastic berries and a cardinal so realistic I wondered if Eleanor had added taxidermy to her list of accomplishments.

“I assume this isn’t purely a social visit?” She sipped her coffee, swirling the hazelnut creamer until her coffee was an even beige. “What is it you want?”

“It could be a social visit. I’m not looking for money or anything like that.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You never visit. Don’t think I’m being rude, but the girls will be home from school soon. Julia and Trinity have violin, and Mackenzie has ballet. The dance studio is completely across town from the music studio, of course. I simply divined a need for guidance.” She took a little sip and primly set the cup on a coaster depicting an idyllic snowy scene. “So spill.”

I gave her a carefully edited version of my week, starting with the bump on my head. “And when I woke up, I saw dead people.” I heard a sharp intake of breath.

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me right away.”

“It was...it was the bump on my head. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” I didn’t mention the extent of my ability. It would only antagonize her and I needed her help.

“Can you hear the dead? Do they speak to you?” She leaned forward.

“Hah! Try getting them to shut up.” I omitted Hephzibah and the demons and Reclaimers. I did tell her about Corinne’s murder and her reluctance to cross over.

To her credit, Eleanor listened intently, only stopping me occasionally with a question. “And you need my help solving this girl’s murder?”

“I don’t actually intend to try and play Nancy Drew. I just want to talk to the detective and...I don’t know...assure Corinne it’s being taken seriously. I don’t even know how to approach the police about this.”

Ellie sipped her coffee with great satisfaction. “So you naturally thought of my police connections.”

“That’s it exactly. I was hoping you had an in, that you could give me a name.”

“I’ll go to the station with you.”

I shifted on the seat cushions with little bows wound decoratively around the chair back. “That isn’t necessary.”

“Nonsense. You need my help. I loathe phone conversations. I always deal with the police in person. You simply can’t pick up any sort of vibe over the phone.”

This wasn’t a battle I could win. I agreed to meet her tomorrow afternoon for a trip to find the detective on Corinne’s case.

Ellie’s glance strayed to the window and the hearse parked at her curb. “I’ll drive,” she said. “You’ll also need my talents, of course.”

“I’m not looking to solve the crime myself, Ellie.”

“It’s no trouble. It’s what I do. Do you have anything that belongs to her?”

Another battle I couldn’t win. She was determined to show me what she could do. The production she creates of picking up impressions from objects makes me queasy. “I don’t think so.” Billy stirred under my feet. It was too warm in the kitchen, and he leaned against my leg panting. “Nothing but the dog.”

“Can you get something? Something personal?”

“Sure, but Corinne doesn’t know who killed her.”

“That’s all right. I still might be able to get an accurate picture of the last moments of her life.”

“I’m supposed to call her aunt in Omaha tonight. I’ll try to get some things. I can tell her I want some personal mementos.”

“What are you going to do with the dog? He sure is a sweetie pie. Aren’t you, baby,” she cooed, rubbing his soft ears.

I perked up. “You want him? He needs a home.”

“Are you serious?” She looked truly delighted. “The kids have all been after me for a dog. I was researching Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, but I’m afraid they might shed. Julia wants a Bichon Frise, but Trinity is thinking poodle. Neither one of those shed, you know. Mackenzie wants a Chihuahua like Paris Hilton, but I refuse, simply refuse, to give in to a trend.”

I promised to hand over the dog as soon as Corinne crossed over. I was feeling positively giddy, but as I looked out the window, I noticed a woman standing by the hearse. She was blond from a bottle with cheap clothes and a hard-bitten, been-there-done-that expression. She didn’t scan with the neighborhood.

I blinked and she was gone, but my uneasiness remained.

Eleanor babbled away. I turned back and tried to concentrate. “We really should be working as a team. If we put our talents together…”

I pictured Mother’s face. “No publicity. I don’t want to hear my name in any interviews.”

“Honestly, Portia, you’re as bad as Agnes.” Eleanor’s sister Agnes is a Sister, Sister Mary Esperanza to be exact, but I was hardly as reclusive as a nun who converses with the dead in the ruins of a Romanian nunnery.

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t shun the world, El. I’m just not prepared for life in the public eye.”

I looked out the window and for a moment I thought I saw a figure sitting inside the hearse. It could have been a trick of shadow and light. When I looked more carefully, the seat was empty.

* * * *

The feeling of impending closure buoyed me to the evening. “You know what to say?” Corinne asked for the zillionth time.

“I’m sure you’ll remind me if I forget.” I dialed the number off my notepad.

Billy sacked out by the fireplace, snoring and farting happily. How any creature so small could make so much noise was beyond me.

The phone rang several times. “I don’t think she’s there,” I said.

“Hello?”

“Is this Susie Simpson?”

“Of course it is. It’s her,” said Corinne, floating near my cellphone.

I put a finger to my lips.

“Why yes, it is. Do I know you?”

“No, you don’t. I am...I mean, I
was
a friend of Corinne’s. I promised her--”Deep breath time. “I promised that if anything ever happened I would take care of Billy and make sure you were doing okay and stuff.” That sounded weak.

“Cori’s friend? She never mentioned you. Did you work at the lab with her?”

“No, we...uh...met at a bar.” I winced. That sounded like I had picked her niece up. “Through friends,” I added hastily. “We knew some of the same people.”

“That’s so nice to hear. I thought she was struggling there in the city. She never mentioned friends.”

Here was the hard part. “Corinne talked about you a lot, how much she loved and admired you. I thought you should know. In case she never told you. I know she meant to.”

“I’m so sorry,” Corinne whispered. “I should have called her more.”

“She says...she always said she should call more.”

Aunt Susie made a strangled little noise. “Thank you. I know how it is. Young, single girls in the city are too busy for silly things like phone calls. But it’s sweet of you. I’m glad Cori had a friend.”

I felt like a heel lying to this nice woman. “I want you to know, if you need anything, anything at all, you can call me. I promised Corinne.”

Susie was quiet a moment. “That’s a very unusual thing. Most people your age wouldn’t make plans for dying. I didn’t know that Cori thought about such things. Maybe with her parents dying when she was so young...”

“That must have been it.”

“So you have Billy? How is he?”

“He’s good. He’s sleeping, actually.”

“There is one thing,” she said.

“Of course.” I had offered, hadn’t I? “Anything.”

“Cori’s roommate, Ruth. I’ve called her several times about getting Cori’s things, but she...she keeps putting me off. I don’t know what to think.”

“You shouldn’t trust her. Ruth is not a nice person.”

“But she was Cori’s roommate.”

“Ruth took Billy to the pound. She left him there in a box.”

Aunt Susie gasped. “I had no idea.”

“So if you need anything, you call me. I’ll help you get Cori’s things back.” And I meant it. It would be a pleasure to confound ferret face. I gave Susie my number. With her help, I would have my hands around some personal items for Eleanor in no time.

Corinne floated out of the kitchen. I turned to sit at the table, but the card players had appeared and were silently dealing. I followed Corinne into the living room. Her head hung down, and her shoulders slumped.

“She sounded okay. I thought that was what you wanted?”

“It is,” she said.

“Billy is safe. I’ll help Aunt Susie get your stuff. And I’ll make sure that the police are working on your case. It’s time for me to call Hephzibah.”

“No.”

“What do you mean
no
? You promised.”

“I’m not ready.”

I gritted my teeth. “It isn’t a matter of being ready. Ready has nothing to do with dead. Death happens. Time to accept it.” I knew it. I knew nothing good could come of this. The problems of the dead are their problems, and taking them on leads to nothing but heartache for the living.

“I’m going with you.”

“With me where?”

“To the police. I’m going with you to the police station.”

Yikes. “That’s a terrible idea. It’s dangerous out there, and there is no reason for you to go.”

“I could help,” she insisted.

“How? What could you possibly do?”

“Information. Who else knows more about my life and what happened on my last day? I could give them clues.”

“Oh, for crying out loud. You’re just delaying. What clues? You said you didn’t have any idea who would do this.” I crossed my arms. “I don’t even know how you died.”

“I think I was poisoned.”

“Poisoned? How?”

She floated higher, until I had to crane my neck to see her.

“Come down from there,” I said. “And fill me in so I don’t sound stupid when I talk to the police.”

She sullenly drifted down to right above eye level. I still had to raise my chin, but I could see her easily enough.

“The last thing I remember is being at work.”

“Where did you work?”

“Wollencroft Agricultural Research.”

“You were a scientist?” I was impressed. Aunt Susie mentioned something about a lab.

“I was a secretary, same as you. Anyway, I was at work and it was my break and I was hungry. I went to the break room to eat and...” She looked embarrassed. “I was out of quarters and I was hungry.”

“Go on.”

“There was this burrito. In the fridge.”

“What do you mean
in the fridge
? What fridge?”

“The break room fridge. Oh, jeez.”

“Whose burrito was this?”

Corinne fidgeted. “I don’t know.”

“You ate someone else’s food out of the fridge.”