All Dressed Up and No Place to Haunt (7 page)

Chapter 11

We were headed back to my shop. I soaked in the sunshine and the slight summer breeze while listening to one of my favorite fifties songs, “In the Still of the Night.”

“That's a romantic date song,” Alice said from the backseat.

Charlotte was sitting in her usual spot in the front seat. Maybe Alice had stopped fighting for that prime real estate.

“Yes, it sure is—now we just need to get her another date.”

“There was no first date,” I reminded my ghostly companions.

“Whatever you say,” Alice said.

Charlotte laughed.

They'd never stop talking about my breakfast with Dylan. The fact of the matter was it wasn't a date. After parking the car, I headed straight for Heather's. Unfortunately, she'd left a sign on her door that she'd be back in a few minutes. So I turned and headed back to my shop.

Once inside, I greeted Wind Song and petted her head. Sitting behind the counter, I pulled out the phone I'd found from my purse. I scrolled through a few items in her call history, and then I searched through her recently viewed web browsing. There was nothing much there other than celebrity tabloid Web sites and some clothing Web sites. I opened the screen for the text messages. That was when I gasped.

“This was definitely Nicole's phone, no doubt about it,” I said, mostly to myself.

“What's wrong? You look like you saw a ghost.” Alice snickered.

“This is serious,” I said.

“Let me see.” Charlotte leaned in closer.

“There are messages from Jessica Duncan on here.” I pointed at the phone.

“And you're sure that it's Nicole's phone?” Charlotte placed her hands on her hips.

I scrolled back to the ID page and tapped the screen with my finger. “See, right here is her name and info.”

“So what's the big deal about the messages from Jessica Duncan?” Charlotte asked. “After all, they were both acting in the same film.”

I glanced over at her. “Well, I don't know for sure. I haven't read them yet. I just saw the one sentence.”

“That's not much to go on,” Charlotte said.

“What does the sentence say?” Alice asked.

I looked down at the screen. “‘Don't threaten me.' That was the response from Nicole to Jessica.”

“Okay, I'll admit that does sound suspicious,” Charlotte said.

“More than a little,” I said.

“Read the rest of the conversation.” Alice stepped to my left so she could look at the phone too.

I scrolled back through the messages. “It appears that Jessica accused Nicole of stealing the lead role from her.”

“That's very interesting,” Alice said.

I thought back to my conversation with Jessica. She hadn't seemed upset or broken up about Nicole's death. All she mentioned was that Nicole had gotten the part she wanted for herself. Obviously, she was not happy with the way things had turned out.

Why was the phone left by the oleander bushes? The killer couldn't have left it there because surely he—or she—would have deleted those incriminating messages. I'd like to think a smart person would have done that, but a killer couldn't be too smart or they'd never kill anyone in the first place, right?

“What else does it say?” Charlotte pointed at the phone.

I scrolled back a little more. “They were supposed to meet.” My eyes widened as I read.

“When?” Alice asked. “This could be a huge clue.”

“Right before the murder happened.”

“She could've left the argument with Preston and met with Jessica . . .”

“And then Jessica strangled her and pushed her in the water,” I finished Alice's sentence.

“You have to tell Dylan about what you found.”

“I can't tell him. Not yet anyway. Not until I can figure out a way to explain why I was there.”

 

 

That night I didn't sleep much. My new earplugs did a good job of blocking out the ghosts' chatter, but my mind was restless. I had to figure out how to tell Dylan about finding Nicole's phone.

As the sun rose on another bright, cloudless summer day, I forced myself out of bed and I picked out my outfit. It was a 1950s two-piece cotton play set consisting of a white cotton blouse and high-waist yellow-and-white-striped capri pants. The top buttoned up the back with small white buttons. My purse was a yellow-and-white polka clutch. I finished the outfit with white flats. Just because I hadn't slept well the night before was no excuse for not looking my best. I was my store's advertising. That meant always dressing the part.

After my morning routine of looking in the paper for estate sales and munching on Greek yogurt topped with granola, I gathered up my ghosts and the cat and headed to work. Alice and Charlotte discussed the crime as I drove. I wasn't expecting to see Detective Dylan Valentine waiting by the front door for me when I pulled up to the shop.

“Look who it is.” Alice pointed.

“I see who it is.” I shifted the car into park and got out, not taking my eyes off Dylan. Why was he there? Then I remembered that I had invited him back to the store to pick up a new vintage outfit. I hadn't expected him to take me up on that offer.

“Good morning, Dylan.” I carried the cat's carrier to the door.

“Good morning, Cookie.” He glanced up at the blue sky and then smiled. “I hope I'm not too early.”

“No, not at all. It always makes a business owner happy to see a customer waiting for the store to open.”

I unlocked the door and motioned for him to enter first. I flipped on the lights and let Wind Song out of her carrier.

“She really likes coming here, doesn't she?” Dylan reached down and stroked the cat.

She purred adoringly.

“Strangely, she does. She just showed up one day and made herself at home. It was as if she belonged here all along.”

Wind Song popped up onto her favorite spot by the window.

“It looks like she does belong.” Dylan smiled. “I'm afraid I'm not here for strictly shopping reasons.”

“Of course he's not here for shopping. Anything he says is just an excuse to see you, Cookie. He's going to ask her out,” Alice said to Charlotte.

“It's about time. I've seen comatose turtles move faster,” Charlotte said.

I had to tune out their chatting. I was just glad that Dylan couldn't hear what they said.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

I walked toward the counter, and Dylan followed me. Of course the ghosts trailed along too.

“Yes, everything is fine. I didn't want to worry you.”

“Well, if he doesn't want to worry you, then he can hurry up and tell you what is wrong,” Charlotte said.

Dylan leaned against the settee. “Preston is at the police station now. He's been there for quite some time. The other officers are questioning him.”

“Really? Why aren't you questioning him?” I asked.

“I was, but decided to let some of the others try. He wasn't telling me much. Just the same thing, that he didn't murder Nicole.”

“So he's sticking to his story.”

“But I really did come in to shop too.”

My eyes widened. “You did?”

Charlotte stood beside Dylan. “No, he did not. He came in to see you. Don't be so naïve.”

I wasn't being naïve, but I surely didn't want to jump to conclusions either. If he said he wanted to shop, then that was what he wanted to do.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked.

“A date?” Alice answered for him.

“I need a shirt,” he said.

“Okay, well, that's a start. What kind of shirt? Button-down, pullover, short sleeve or long sleeve?”

“I'd like a short sleeve button-down,” he said.

“Nice choice. I'll see what I can find.”

After gathering a few shirts, I handed them to him. He held each one up to his chest and looked in the mirror.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I like your style. Which one do you think would look best on me?” he asked.

“Well, the blue matches your eyes. The green looks good with your complexion. And the white would go with everything. So honestly, I think they would all look great.”

“Okay, then I'll take all of them.” He handed the shirts back to me.

“I didn't say that to get you to buy all of them.”

He laughed. “You're a great salesperson. You convinced me that I need them all.”

“Yeah, sure,” Charlotte said.

After ringing up the shirts, I handed Dylan the shopping bag with his purchase.

“Thanks for helping me pick out something.”

“It's my job. Thank you for wanting them.”

“Isn't this sweet?” Charlotte said.

“Look at the gleam in his eyes,” Alice said.

If they didn't stop, I would definitely be blushing soon.

He held up the bag. “Well, thanks again. I guess my break is over. I should get back to the station.”

I rearranged the jewelry on a rack by the counter. “Of course. Good luck with Preston.”

I wasn't sure if I should thank him for sharing the info with me. Alice and Charlotte stood beside me as we watched Dylan walk out the door.

When he vanished from sight, Alice asked, “What do you think about Preston? Is the case solved?”

I shrugged. “That's a good question. I still would like to know more about the text messages from Jessica and why Shiloh had Nicole's dress. Plus, what was Vera looking for by the pond?”

“That's a lot of unanswered questions,” Charlotte said.

“Are you going to tell Dylan about the phone?” Alice asked.

“Oh yes. The phone, I'd almost forgotten. I suppose I should. I just have to think of what to say.”

I was still focused on the front door. More daydreaming than anything.

Heather opened the door and noticed me staring. “Were you expecting me?”

I chuckled. “No, I was zoning out. I just had a customer.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “That's good. Is there something else you want to share?”

“The customer was Dylan.”

“Ah-ha.” She paused. “And what did he say?”

“He bought three shirts.”

“I bet he didn't even need three shirts.”

I shrugged. “Maybe not. But that's not all.”

She motioned for me to continue. “What's the rest?”

“He said that they have Preston at the police station and he's being interrogated.”

“Wow, so the case is solved.”

“Not so fast,” I said, pulling out Nicole's phone.

I shared with her my thoughts on Jessica and about seeing Vera at the plantation.

“Well, there's just one thing we should do,” she said.

I eyed her suspiciously. “What's that?”

Heather pulled the tarot cards from her bag. “We need to ask the cat.”

Ironically, Heather had found tarot cards that featured cats dressed in various costumes.

I shook my head. “No way.”

“Are you still fighting me on this?” Heather asked.

“I'd like to see what the cat has to say,” Alice said.

“I'm not fighting you. I just don't know about the information. Maybe the cat doesn't want to talk.”

With that, Wind Song hopped down from the window and marched over to the counter.

“I guess that answers your question,” Heather said.

Heather placed the cards on the counter. Wind Song jumped up there and watched her as she spread them out.

“Okay, Wind Song, pick out the cards that you want,” Heather said.

“I've got to see this.” Alice stepped over for a closer view.

Wind Song reached out and moved a card and then another. When she stopped, she looked up at us.

“Are you done?” I asked as if she would respond.

Since she didn't pull out any more cards, I guessed that was her way of telling me she was finished.

“I can't wait to see what she said.” Heather pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

I was a little curious myself.

Heather flipped over the first card. “It's the king of cups card. This one means that someone new is about to come into your life.”

I tried to look skeptical. “Interesting, but that could just mean a customer.”