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Ainsley smiled and it lit her from the inside out. “Carter presided over Jenny Jane’s funeral last December and Moriah was there. She’s Moriah Priddy now. Got married a couple of years ago. She was eight months pregnant and so sad that her mama wasn’t ever going to meet her first grandbaby. I’m positive that Jenny Jane must feel the same. She wants to see her grandchild, and that’s why she can’t cross yet.”

By the door, Jenny Jane nodded her head vigorously.

“She’s agreeing with you. Okay, so we’ve got to find Moriah. Did she move far away?”

“Somewhere to the southern part of the state. I can check the church files to see if we have a forwarding address, but you know who’d know for sure?”

“Who?” I asked.

“Mayor Ramelle. She and Jenny Jane were best friends, and she’s Moriah’s godmama.”

“Mayor Ramelle and Jenny Jane?” The two didn’t seem likely friends, being from such vastly different stations of life.

“Sure enough. They played bingo at the church every Monday night like clockwork, chatting up a storm. Jenny Jane might not have been able to read, but she knew her numbers just fine.”

“Seeing Mayor Ramelle again also gives me another chance to ask her about Haywood.” I tossed aside the afghan. “Since we’re running short on time, I should probably go find her now.” My search for information on Avery Bryan could wait just a little bit longer.

“Sounds like a fine plan,” Ainsley said. “You don’t need me to go with you, do you?”

“No, why?”

“No use in letting all this go to waste,” she said, gesturing to the table. “Besides, someone should be here when Delia wakes up. You don’t mind if I stay, do you?”

It wasn’t very often Ainsley had a whole afternoon without the Clingons. I bent and gave her a hug. “Stay as long as you want.”

After Ainsley slipped a movie into the DVD player, she went over the dress I’d worn to the ball. “Just look at it. It’s a shame; that’s what it is.”

The dress was hanging on a hook near the door. It was utterly ruined, the hem in tatters. I’d already transferred money to pay for it outright, but I didn’t know what to do with the gown. For some reason I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out with the trash. “You want it?” I asked. “Maybe you can make something out of it that Olive can add to her dress-up box.”

“Really? I do have some ideas.”

“It’s yours.” I grabbed my sunglasses, coat, and shoes, and headed for the door.

Back on the couch, Ainsley tugged the blanket onto her lap and cracked open the bag of chips. “Oh, and Carly?”

Hand on the doorknob, I turned. “Yeah?”

“Could you please take the ghosts with you?”

Chapter Eleven

M
ayor Ramelle lived in a big historical house near the river walk, not too far from the center of town. Her house wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the Ezekiel mansion but it was a favorite stop on the home tour hosted by the Harpies every summer.

The sun had come out, chasing away the chill in the air, and I’d opted to ride my bike to soak up the sunshine. Virgil and Jenny Jane floated behind me, and I hadn’t spotted any more ghosts roaming around on my way over here.

Thankfully.

A circular drive led up to the Georgian-style brick home that had a fancy fountain as a focal point in the front yard. I was so engrossed with the way fountain water shot out of various openings that I didn’t notice the white Mercedes convertible with its top down in the driveway until it honked at me.

Idella Deboe Kirby leaned over the driver’s door. Sunlight glinted off her blond highlights. “You’re lucky I didn’t run you over, Carly Bell.”
Tsk.

I inwardly cringed at the sound as it grated on my nerves. On the surface, hers was a benign enough comment, and I wouldn’t have taken any umbrage at it except for the malicious gleam in her eyes beneath the brim of a dark sun hat. “Yes,” I said, edging my bike around the front bumper. “It would be terrible if you ended up sharing a prison cell with Patricia. Hello, Dr. Gabriel.”

In the passenger seat, Doc had just set a match to his pipe. He blew out the flame, took the pipe out of his mouth, and dropped his head into his hand. Looking up at me, there was an apology in his eyes as he said, “Good afternoon, Carly.”

Idella had taken over driving duties last spring when Doc’s cancer treatments had begun to cause double vision. I wondered if he was still having issues with his eyes even though he was in remission. Or whether Idella, a control freak, had decided not to relinquish the role once he’d gotten better.

“Patricia will be free and clear in no time at all,” Idella said, her nose in the air.

“I’m sure she will,” I said sickly sweet. It took all my might not to add a “bless her heart” to the statement. If Dylan and I were going to have a future, I needed to try to make nice with his mama. That meant even when she wasn’t around.

It was like to kill me.

“If you’re here to see Mayor Ramelle, she’s not at home,” Idella said.
Tsk.
“We just called on her ourselves.”

Disappointed, I glanced toward the house. “Do you know when she’ll be back? It’s a matter of some importance.”

“What kind of matter?” she asked, eyebrows drawn low, and I knew I’d said too much.

I waved a hand. “Zoning stuff. Bo-ring.”

“For your shop?” Doc asked.

Digging my hole deeper, I said, “No, no, it doesn’t matter.”

Idella sniffed. “I thought you just said it was a matter of some importance.”
Tsk.

Dang.

Suddenly, a moan sounded, and they both whipped their heads left and right. Idella’s chestnut-colored bob swung this way and that. “What was that?” Idella asked, her voice high. “I didn’t run over a bullfrog or something, did I?”

Saved by a ghost.

On the other side of the car, Virgil was gesturing up a storm, motioning toward Dr. Gabriel. Even though this probably wasn’t the best time, I figured if I didn’t ask the vet about Louella, then Virgil was going to be fit to be tied.

Jenny Jane, I noticed, had wandered over to the house and was peeping in the front windows.

“I think it was the wind in the trees,” I said, lying through my teeth. “While you’re here, Doc, do you know what happened to Virgil Keane’s dog, Louella? Someone mentioned her fondly the other day and it got me to wondering.”

“Fondly?” he repeated, looking stricken by the idea.

Okay, fondly had been a stretch, but I hadn’t wanted to insult Virgil.

“Ugh,”
Idella groaned. “That little dog was a menace. Gabriel put her down. Good riddance!”

Visible beneath his beard, color flared in Doc’s cheeks as he glanced at his wife.

Virgil moaned again, this time in anger as he floated straight over to Idella and wagged a finger in her face.

She paled. “What
is
that noise?”

I latched onto my locket and said to Dr. Gabriel, “You put Louella down?”

“Of course he did,” Idella said as though I was an imbecile.
Tsk.
“She was unadoptable, the vicious little thing.”

Virgil’s angry brown eyes narrowed to slits.

Have mercy on my soul. I wasn’t sure what would happen if she kept insulting his beloved pet.

Fortunately for all of us, Doc said, “Actually, I didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” his wife asked him.

“Put her down.” He shifted in his leather seat. “I couldn’t. She was perfectly healthy. Contrary to popular belief,” he said loudly to his wife, “I can and often do make decisions on my own.”

Virgil slumped in relief.

I nearly gasped, as I’d never once heard Doc raise his voice—and especially not to Idella. She pursed her lips. I had the feeling Doc Gabriel would be hearing about her outrage later.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“At my clinic,” he said. “Idella’s right. Louella’s unadoptable. She doesn’t tolerate many being near her, people or dogs, and she does bite. She has her own stall in the kennel and is perfectly happy living in solitude.”

This warranted another groan out of Virgil.

Idella looked around. “Is it the fountain, you think?”

I ignored her and focused on her husband. “Do you think I could see Louella?”

Once Virgil could see that Louella was just fine, he could be on his ghostly way into the light.

“Are you thinking of adopting her?” Dr. Gabriel asked with a tone of disbelief.

Virgil stared at me and crossed his arms, tapped his foot, and nodded his head.

Oh geez. By his stubborn look I knew he wasn’t going to go anywhere until he knew she’d found a good home.

“Yes,” I said meekly. What in the world was I going to do with a dog? Roly and Poly were never going to forgive me.

I was never going to forgive myself.

That was the meanest little dog I ever did meet.

Doc’s eyes were wide with disbelief as he checked his watch. “Do you want to go now?”

“No,” Idella snapped. “Not now. We have lunch plans, if you recall. Tomorrow is soon enough, during regular office hours.”
Tsk.

How Doc could stand that vocal tic was beyond me.

“Tomorrow is great,” I blurted. That gave me some time to figure a way to get out of adopting Louella.

“Fine,” Doc said. “It’s settled then. Eight tomorrow?”

“Eight it is.”

Twenty hours. I had twenty short hours to find that dog a home.

Doc cleared his throat. “Has there been any word from Dylan about Haywood’s murder?”

Idella shot him a look, but he kept watching me.

I debated what to tell him, considering that his wife would likely become a suspect soon. I opted for the truth, to rattle her cage a bit. “Actually, some evidence was found that indicated why Haywood might have been killed.”

Neither so much as blinked.

“Evidence that will prove Patricia’s innocence?” Idella asked.

“Perhaps,” I said, gripping my handlebars. “Perhaps not.”

“What does that mean?” Dr. Gabriel asked.

“It’s likely that Haywood was killed because
he
was the mysterious heir to the Ezekiel house,” I said, watching them closely.

Idella’s mouth parted in shock, and Dr. Gabriel’s eyes went round. “The heir?” he repeated.

“The heir,” I confirmed. “It was probably going to be his big announcement last night.”

They looked truly flabbergasted, but they may have been good actors, so I let down my guard for a moment to feel their energy.

Pure surprise.

Sometimes being empathic came in handy.

They definitely hadn’t known Haywood’s secret, but I couldn’t help but rattle Idella’s cage just a little bit harder. “I’m sure the sheriff will be around to talk with you soon, Idella.”

“Why’s that?” she retorted.
Tsk
.

Trying not to take too much pleasure in the moment, I said, “Isn’t it obvious? All the Harpies are now suspects in Haywood’s death.”

•   •   •

Since I hadn’t exactly gotten an answer from Idella, before she sped off, about when Mayor Ramelle might be getting home, I parked my bike and rang the bell, hoping Doug Ramelle, the mayor’s husband, was home at least.

Jenny Jane shook her head. As she’d been peering in the windows the whole time we’d been here, I figured she would know whether anyone was inside.

Still, I waited for a couple of minutes before abandoning the doorstep. I’d try looking for Doug at the Delphinium instead.

It was a short ride to his restaurant, which wasn’t too far from my mama’s chapel. The parking lot was jammed with cars, and there was a line out the door of customers waiting for a table.

Sunday brunch was no joke around Hitching Post. I shimmied through the crowd, and once inside I took off my sunglasses.

I nearly bumped into Johnny McGee, a young waiter who was dating one of my clients, and smiled. “Sorry about that.”

“Not a problem, Miss Carly. You looking for a table?” He glanced around the crowded room and frowned. “It might be a bit.”

“Nope, but I am looking for Doug. Is he here?”

He motioned with the jut of his chin. “Working the bar.”

“Thanks.”

With a nod of his head, he disappeared into the kitchen. I sat on a faux-leather barstool and enjoyed being ghost-free for the moment. Virgil and Jenny Jane were waiting for me out front. The bar itself wasn’t crowded—this time of day leaned toward family meals, so it was easy enough to see Hyacinth Foster at the far end of the bar, nursing something-on-the-rocks.