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Authors: Rose Pressey

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BOOK: All Dressed Up and No Place to Haunt

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Heather shrugged. “I suppose. But Wind Song knows the difference between a customer and someone who is here for a different reason.”

I just hoped that reason would be a good one. I never knew with the way things had been going in Sugar Creek lately.

Heather flipped over the next card. “This one is the high priestess card. It means that you shouldn't give up on your current mission.”

“I don't think I could even if I wanted to,” I said.

Just then the bell on the door jingled, and we all looked up as if we'd been caught doing something that we shouldn't.

Heather grabbed the cards. Wind Song meowed as she jumped down from the counter. It was just a customer. And that was probably who Wind Song had seen as the stranger coming into my life. The man probably wondered why we were staring at him. He wore a gray suit, black shoes, and a red tie. I had to admit he looked great in his clothing. The man had short blond hair and brown eyes. Dimples dotted each cheek.

“Well, hello, handsome,” Charlotte said when she saw him walking my way. “You definitely need more customers like him. I wonder what he wants.”

“He's a dreamboat,” Alice said.

I had to admit he was easy on the eyes. Soon enough I would find out what he wanted. Maybe he just wanted to sell me life insurance or a set of knives.

When he reached the counter, he flashed that million-dollar smile again. “Are you the owner?”

I nodded. But for a moment didn't speak.

“Well, say something,” Charlotte pushed.

Heather was staring at the man too.

“Yes, I'm the proprietor, buyer, salesclerk, bookkeeper, and janitor.” I stretched my hand toward him. “My name is Cassandra Chanel.”

He glanced over at Heather and then back to me. “I'm looking for Cookie.”

I blushed. “I'm Cookie. It's my nickname.”

The dimples appeared on his cheeks again. I think the ghosts standing behind me swooned every time he did that.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

“Make sure to sell him some shirts too,” Charlotte said.

“My name is Ken Harrison.” He shook my hand.

“May I help you find something?”

He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to me.

“I'm a new attorney here in Sugar Creek.”

“I had no idea there was such a handsome lawyer in Sugar Creek,” Charlotte said. “He must be setting off a lot of talk in town.”

His card matched what he'd just told me, but what did he want with me?

“How can I help you, Mr. Harrison?” I asked.

“I've been retained by Preston Hart.”

My eyes widened.

“I wondered if I could ask you questions about what you saw the day of Miss Silver's death?”

“Has Preston been arrested for the murder?” I asked.

He shook his head. “He hired me and I got him out of there. The police were being relentless.”

“Uh-oh,” Charlotte said.

“I guess they were just doing their job,” I said.

He looked me in the eyes. “Yes, I suppose they are. Anyway, is there anything you can tell me?”

I wasn't sure what info he wanted.

“I saw Nicole in the water, just before the director jumped in to pull her out. But before that, I did overhear Preston and Nicole arguing.”

He seemed fascinated by what I said. “Is that right? What were they arguing about?”

“I couldn't tell you for sure. I think it was about Preston cheating,” I said.

“What exactly did you hear them say?”

“I couldn't make it out clearly,” I said, wanting to end the conversation. “Please excuse me, I have work to do here.”

“You were at the filming of the movie all day, right?”

“Yes, I was there.” Not knowing what to do, I busied myself by folding a shirt that didn't need to be folded.

“Was there tension between Preston and Nicole?”

I knew I couldn't avoid answering forever, so I finally said, “Not that I noticed, but they are actors, so how would I know for sure?”

“Would you call me if you think of anything else?”

I looked at the card again. “I'll make sure to contact you if I think of anything.”

Ken looked around my shop. “You have a great store. I love vintage. Is that your car out there?”

I smiled. “Yes, it's my Buick. It used to belong to my grandfather.”

“I've always wanted a car like that,” he said. “Maybe someday.” He smiled again. “Anyway, you'll call me?”

I held up the card. “I have your number.”

I'd almost forgotten that Heather was standing next to me. Ken smiled at her and walked out of the store. Wind Song watched him through the window.

“Well, I hadn't seen that one coming,” I said.

“This is interesting. It sounds serious for Preston,” Heather said.

“I'm not convinced now that he did it,” Alice said.

“But you were so sure before,” I said.

“That's before we found out all this other stuff.”

She had a point. I was sure Preston had something to do with the murder at first too. Now I wasn't so sure.

Chapter 12

Charlotte's Handy-Dandy Tips for Navigating the Afterlife

Once you find someone who can see you,
stay with them.
It is a rare feat,
and you don't want to lose your new friend.

That night I was trying to get much-needed sleep. But Alice just wouldn't stop chatting. At least when Charlotte was there the two of them entertained each other. But Charlotte had taken off again. My earplugs didn't protect me when Alice shook my arm and pulled the covers down from over my face.

“Cookie, are you awake?” she yelled.

“No,” I said, giving up and removing the earplugs.

“Okay, well, there is just one thing I would like for you to do tomorrow. If you do this, I promise that I will stop talking so much.”

I sat up. “Do you promise?”

She drew an imaginary “X” across her chest with her index finger. “Yes, I swear.”

“If you'll let me sleep tonight, then first thing in the morning I will go wherever you want or do whatever you want.”

“It's a deal,” she said.

True to her word, Alice allowed me sleep. So the next morning, I slipped into a fifties-era vibrant watermelon-pink cotton halter sundress. The pleated bust had tiny rhinestone buttons, and the dropped waist had embroidered heart trim. My shoes were white sling-back kitten heels and my purse a white clutch.

“How do I look?” I gestured at my outfit.

“Fantastic. Now let's go.”

Alice tapped her foot as she waited by the front door. I'd have to come back for Wind Song because I had no idea where Alice was taking me.

“Where are we going?” I asked as I started the car. In Charlotte's absence, Alice sat in the front passenger seat with the smug demeanor of a queen.

“I want you to visit an old friend for me.”

“This should be interesting.” I pulled out onto the street.

After she gave me the address, I pointed the Buick in that direction.

“Who's this friend?” I asked.

“His name is Bob Bowman. We were in love many years ago.” Her voice was soft, as if the memories were overwhelming her. “He had a car just like this one.”

“Really?” I glanced over at her as I steered. She grinned. “I just want to give him a message.” “Is he married?” I asked.

“No, he is a widower.”

“But you were married too?” I asked.

Alice nodded. “It just wasn't in the cards for Bob and me, but that's okay.”

I hoped for her sake that I could find Bob.

After following Alice's directions for a few more minutes, I turned onto Rock Springs Drive and into a small subdivision. The entrance had a rock foundation on each side with R
OCK
S
PRINGS
written below.

“I hope this is the right place.” I glanced at the houses lining the street.

“This is it,” Alice said.

I counted down the houses until I found the sixth one down on the right. It was a brick ranch with green shutters and a small porch with two black lawn chairs on it.

“We're here!” Alice whispered.

Her voice was a mixture of excitement and nerves. I would feel the same way if I were her. Anxiety had taken hold of me, and this wasn't my long-lost love. I pulled up to the curb in front of the house.

I shifted the car into park. “Here I go.”

Alice joined me as I climbed out from behind the wheel and walked up the driveway toward the door. I had no idea what I was going to say to this man. Alice had left that decision up to me. How would I explain that I had a message from Alice? What if he didn't remember her and Alice overheard that? She would be devastated. I didn't think I could handle Alice being sad. It would be heartbreaking.

I stepped up in front of the door and pushed the doorbell.

After a few seconds, footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. Then it opened. A man with dark brown hair, wearing a white T-shirt and blue shorts, stood in front of me. I knew this definitely wasn't the man Alice was talking about.

“Hello. Sorry to bother you. I am looking for Bob Bowman.”

The man looked me up and down. “And who are you?”

“My name is Cookie.” I paused. “My name is Cassandra Chanel.”

“What business do you have with him?” The man scowled.

I hoped Bob was friendlier than this guy.

He inched the door closed a little more. “I'm his grandson and he doesn't know a Cassandra.”

“I'm a friend of a friend,” I said with a smile, hoping it would get me inside the house.

“He's not very friendly, is he?” Alice said. “Bob is nothing like his grandson.”

I would hope not. It would be hard to explain that I needed to give his grandfather a message from a ghost, so I had no idea what to do next.

“My grandfather isn't seeing anyone right now.”

“Well, I have a message from a friend. The friend is no longer alive.” I rushed my words.

“That should work,” Alice said.

“Like I said, he doesn't know a Cassandra and he isn't seeing anyone.” He shut the door in my face.

That hadn't gone as I'd planned. How could I help Alice with her problem?

“It looks as if this isn't going to work, Alice. We'll have to think of something else,” I said.

Alice seemed dejected. “At least you tried.”

The sad look on her face made my stomach twist into a knot, but I couldn't do anything about it right now. We headed back to my car with our heads hung low. I climbed in and stared back at the house.

“If we only knew more about what Bob is doing. Is his grandson there all the time? If we can catch him home alone maybe he won't have a gatekeeper.” I turned the key.

Alice sat in the front seat with her hands on her lap. She looked straight ahead at the street.

“Perhaps you can find a way to figure that out,” she said.

I shifted the car into gear. “I'll see what I can do.”

Honestly, I had no idea how I would ever accomplish that, but for Alice I would try.

The morning went by fairly quickly, and it was now after lunch. I'd picked up Wind Song and brought her to the store in time to work with quite a few customers. Business was definitely picking up. Maybe having Charlotte around was helping. She'd been giving me tips on effective advertising and merchandising.

I was at the counter tagging clothing when Heather bounced in, wearing a long flowered skirt and a Grateful Dead T-shirt with love beads. She was going for the Flower Power look today.

“I brought you chocolate,” she said, holding up a bag. Ah, just what I needed, some peanut butter fudge from Sophie's Sweets down by courthouse square.

“How did you know?”

“I figured you had a busy day and could use a pick-me-up.”

Business had picked up for Heather too. She'd recently been able to hire someone to work part-time and give her much-needed help. Wind Song jumped on the counter and placed a paw on Heather's hand.

“I think she wants to use the cards.” I popped a piece of chocolate into my mouth.

Heather smiled. “This cat is awesome. I just happen to have the cards with me.” She pulled them from her hobo bag.

“I had a feeling you might,” I said.

Wind Song meowed as Heather placed the cards on the counter again. “I wonder what she'll have to say this time. She was right about the stranger last time,” Heather said.

“Time will tell,” I said.

Heather pushed the cards across the counter so that Wind Song could pick out her selections. Before Wind Song had a chance to choose, the bell above the door jingled and we whipped our heads to see who had entered. My eyes widened when I saw Dylan. He'd caught us again. This was getting difficult to explain. Did he have my store under surveillance?

“Good afternoon, ladies. You look like you were caught with your hands in the cookie jar.” He winked at me.

Alice laughed.

“We were just playing with the cat,” I said.

Technically, that wasn't a lie. Just not the whole truth.

“How are you?” I surreptitiously shoved the cards toward Heather.

I knew Dylan wasn't back for more shirts. Wind Song was pawing at Heather's hand as she was trying to gather them up. Dylan looked over at the counter.

“Are you giving the cat a reading?” he asked Heather.

Heather smiled. “As a matter of fact, I was. You should come in and let me do a reading for you too.”

The corner of his mouth twisted up into a grin. “Maybe I'll do that sometime.”

Heather placed the cards back in her bag, and Wind Song jumped down. I'd have to give her an extra treat later.

“Did you come back for more shirts?” I asked, mainly to change the subject.

He chuckled. “No, I'm sorry. I love the shirts though.”

So why was he here? Did he have more news about Preston? He stepped closer to the counter. Was he about to share confidential information?

Dylan ran his finger along the fabric of a shirt, as if he needed time to form the words in his mind. “A man was here to speak with you. His name is Ken Harrison.”

I nodded. “Yes, he's the lawyer for Preston.”

“That's him. So he came in to talk with you?” he asked.

“Yes, he was here.”

Dylan looked concerned. Was I not supposed to talk with Harrison? I couldn't imagine why not. He'd seemed like a nice man, not to mention good-looking too. Not that I'd noticed much. Wow. Two gorgeous men in my shop in as many days. I was lucky.

“What did he say to you?” Dylan asked.

“He wanted to know what I saw on the morning Nicole was killed. I told him about the argument and then when I found Nicole at the pond. That was about it.”

Of course that was all that I remembered. I didn't mention to Dylan and Ken that I'd picked up a ghost that day too. That wasn't as easy to explain as a simple argument.

“Did he ask any more questions?” Dylan studied my face.

I shook my head. “No, I can't think of anything else.”

It was hard to remember every detail.

Dylan looked around and then met my gaze. “You know, you don't have to talk with him.”

I waved my hand. “Sure, I know. But he seemed nice enough. He said he was new in town.”

Dylan leaned his elbows on the counter. “He is. I don't know much about him.”

Something told me that Dylan would be looking into him more now. He might feel as if the lawyer was messing with his case against Preston, but that was what he'd been hired to do. Ken wanted to clear his client as a suspect.

“If he comes back in, will you let me know?” Dylan asked.

“Of course,” I said.

“This is getting interesting,” Alice said as she eyed Dylan.

I couldn't help but glance at Alice. Dylan noticed my expression. He looked beside him and then over his shoulder.

“The cat was moving,” I said, trying to explain away my odd behavior.

He nodded. Obviously, he believed my explanation.

“Thanks for the information, Cookie,” he said.

“I want to help if I can.”

Dylan smiled. “I appreciate that.”

Dylan turned to walk out the door, but then looked down at Wind Song. She meowed at him.

He turned to face me once again. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Was he talking about the cat and the tarot cards? Maybe I was just being paranoid.

“No. I can't think of anything else.” I tried to act casual.

He looked at Heather, and she fiddled with her love beads. I knew she was thinking the same thing.

“I think he's onto you. Next thing he'll be suspicious of you talking to ghosts,” Alice said.

I had a feeling he was already thinking I was a little off my rocker. Now was definitely not the time to tell him about the ghosts. I was glad that I hadn't mentioned the cat and the tarot cards or the Ouija board.

“The poor guy doesn't know what to think,” Charlotte piped up behind me.

“Okay. I'll see you soon.” He flashed his dazzling smile and walked out the door.

“That was an awkward exchange,” Charlotte said. “You will have to tell him about the cat, and you'll have to tell him about us.” She pointed at Alice.

“I can't tell him about any of that. No way. He'll think I'm crazy.”

“You'd be surprised,” Heather said. “People are a lot more accepting of the supernatural than you'd think.”

BOOK: All Dressed Up and No Place to Haunt

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