Make the Ghost of It (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 3): (Ghost Cozy Mystery series) (2 page)

BOOK: Make the Ghost of It (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 3): (Ghost Cozy Mystery series)
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Chapter 3

 

After everyone left, I made some headway. I called and booked the plumber, and I scrubbed all the windows in the apartment. There was a never-ending supply of dust, and soon I was covered with dirt and grime.

I had slept in the smaller of the two bedrooms, because the master bedroom was being used as a storage room. However, the colors in the smaller bedroom were nightmarish. I suppose the colors might have been fashionable in the seventies or eighties. One wall was painted grape; one wall was painted mustard, and two walls were painted the darkest navy blue I had ever seen. I wanted to paint the walls white before I spent another night in the bedroom.

The carpets throughout the apartment were a rather hideous shade of blue. Blue is my favorite color, and this was about the only shade of blue I had seen that I didn’t like. I knew that there were timber floorboards under the carpet, so I would save time by not putting down drop sheets for painting. Those carpets were going to go!

I could make as much mess as I liked while I was painting and get it all over the carpet, because I was going to pull up the carpet anyway. I enjoy chalk painting furniture—thrift store finds—and so I thought that white chalk paint might look nice on the walls. I mixed equal parts of Plaster of Paris and water, and then mixed that with some of the white paint. I supposed that might have worked, had I not used a roller.

I soon discovered that rollers and chalk paint just don’t mix, and there was no way I was going to paint all those walls with just a brush. I used up the small amount of chalk paint I’d made by going around the edges with the brush.

I worked feverishly, faster than I normally could have, given the fact that I was able to splash the paint all over the carpet. When I had finished the four walls, I stood back to admire my work. It was pretty bad, truth be told, but I suppose that was mainly due to the fact that I would need to paint another coat or two. One thing was sure; although I wouldn’t win any prizes for painting, the room was infinitely brighter already.

After an exhausting time of painting, washing, and scrubbing, I decided to walk outside to visit Basil’s two pet sheep, Arthur and Martha, who grazed in the paddocks that adjoined the funeral home.

When Dad died, he left the funeral home building and business with its adjacent five acres to me, and the large house next door as well as a considerable sum of money to Mom. Mom was terrible with finances, and donated any money she could get her hands on to religious causes. She didn’t appear to have any discernment as to whether or not the causes were genuine.

I walked over to the fish pond and sat on the old seat. It had been my father’s—he had made it himself from discarded railway luggage iron and boards. I idly wondered how the goldfish managed to live happily below the thick coating of ice in winter. One of the goldfish, a big one, stuck its head out and eyed me, probably expecting food, but then turned its attention to some mosquito larvae and gobbled them up. I could hear the distinctive call of a Pobblebonk frog, but couldn’t see it. The pond was a happy place. I yawned and stretched and then made my way back.

I had only gotten as far as the roses outside the funeral home when Mom appeared.

“It’s a lovely day, isn’t it, Laurel?”

I looked at her with suspicion. Why was she in such a good mood? It wasn’t like her at all. “Yes, it’s a lovely day,” I agreed tersely.

“Come over to my house and see what I’ve done with my garden now,” Mom said. She was very proud of her garden, and she was at her nicest when she was showing me around her garden. To be more accurate, it was the
only
time she was nice to me.

I followed her back to her garden and saw with dismay that John Jones was there, bending over a rhododendron.

“John Jones is here!” I hissed at my mother. “I told you I’m never going to date him.”

Mom scowled at me. “Why are you always so paranoid, Laurel? I have a few people from the church over to help me with my garden.” She shot me a look of such pure innocence, that I would have believed her, had I not known better. She grabbed my arm. “Look, Janet’s here, too.”

Janet was furiously pulling out weeds and probably a few good plants along with them.

I smiled at Janet, and she walked straight over to me. “I see your mother has invited us to cover up for the fact that she’s trying to get you to date John Jones,” she said with her usual truthfulness. Janet always said what she thought, even if it was incredibly tactless.

Mom scurried away. She was no match for Janet.

“Yes, Mom just won’t give up,” I said.

“I’m thinking
I
should date John Jones,” Janet said. “It’s just that I have a thing against combovers. Still, he does go to my church, and I’m desperate. There’s not much in the way of men to choose from in my church, and my biological clock is ticking.”

“You want children?” I said with surprise. “I didn’t know you liked them.”

“I can’t stand the little…” Janet broke off, looked thoughtful, and then continued. “Um, I mean the little
dears
. What if get older, and then find that I wanted them, after all? Perhaps I’ll like children in my old age.”

“Have you ever considered dating a man who doesn’t go to your church?” I asked her. “There are plenty of other churches around.”

Janet looked at me as if I had gone mad. “No, Laurel. Our church is the only one that’s right. Everyone else in the world is going to hell.”

I shrugged. At least Janet admitted it. My mother thought the same thing, but denied it vehemently. And speak of the devil, I looked up to see Mom pulling John Jones toward me. “Hello, Laurel,” he said with a big grin.

I sighed. “Hello, John.”

“You’re looking lovely today,” he said.

“Are you kidding?” Janet said. “She’s covered in paint, and she isn’t wearing any makeup. I’d like to scrub her face and put some makeup on her, but I only do that to dead people.” She smiled seductively at John, but he cowered away from her.

I left them alone, and hurried over to Ian, as he was a lesser evil than John. At least Ian wasn’t pursuing me. Ian was pulling out pansies that he appeared to think were weeds, but Mom was too much of a people pleaser to say anything.

“Ian, those are actually not weeds; they’re pansies,” I said. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I didn’t think it right that he was killing Mom’s plants, either.

Ian did not appear to mind, but instead tossed a pansy over his shoulder and pointed to the sky with his trowel. “There’s that skydiving plane. If God wanted us to fly, he would have given us wings.”

“How did you get here today, Ian?” I asked him.

Ian looked puzzled. “In a car, of course, dear.”

I folded my arms. “Well,
dear
, if God meant you to drive, he would have given you wheels.”

Mom and Ian burst into laughter as if I had said something bizarrely stupid. I was surprised—I thought Mom would scold me for twisting things, like she usually did. Instead, she looked up at the sky. “Isn’t that Lewis Lowes such a lovely man? He probably goes to a branch of our church, given that he’s so nice. Don’t you think so, Ian?”

I could see that Ian didn’t agree, but there was no way he was going to say that. “We should invite him to our church,” he said. “So he can repent for his lies.”

“Oh what a great idea, Ian,” Mom said. “He can sit between us.”

That seemed to cheer up Ian. “Yes, and we can invite him to the night service as well, and the afternoon service, too.”

Mom clapped her hands with delight. “Good idea, Ian! Now Laurel, look at these lovely hybrid roses I bought yesterday. I’ve put them right next to these scented ones.”

I had to agree that the roses were beautiful, and the scent was as delightful as only roses can convey. Mom was a wonderful gardener. The roses looked gorgeous against the backdrop of the blue flowers of the lavender and the rosemary bushes.

I was broken from my thoughts by a cat squealing in fear. I looked up in alarm, hoping the poor animal wasn’t injured, when I realized it was only Ian shrieking.

He grabbed me by the arm and then let go, and then grabbed Mom by the arm. He then let go of her, too, and pointed once more to the sky. “Look! In the sky!” he exclaimed.

“It’s Jesus!” my mother screamed at the top of her lungs. “It’s Jesus! It’s the Rapture. Jesus is appearing in the clouds.”

Janet and John hurried over to us. John nodded furiously, while Mom turned to Ian. “See, I told you I was right. Pre-Tribulation was right after all, and you always said it was Post Tribulation!”

Ian’s face was white. “You were right, Thelma! You were right! It was Pre-Tribulation, after all. And now Jesus is coming in the clouds to gather unto him all who are pure and holy and are not evil sinners!”

Mom, Ian, and John looked at me at that point, while Janet looked at the sky. Ian’s and John’s faces held something akin to sympathy, but my mother’s face clouded over. “I told you, Laurel! I’ve told you for years and you didn’t believe me. Now you are going to suffer a terrible tribulation. They are going to stamp 666 on your forehead, and you won’t be able to buy or sell, because you’re an evil sinner! And now he’s come in the clouds to take me, John, Janet, and Ian, and all else who are righteous to heaven, and you will be left here on earth. Don’t say I didn’t tell you!” She waved her finger in my face.

I was too shocked to speak. I was only half listening to them, because my eyes were fixed on the black spot in the sky which was growing bigger and bigger and bigger.

The black spot was, in fact, heading right for us. Mom and Ian clutched at each other. “Goodbye, Laurel!” my mother said gleefully. “We are going to the place where the other holy and pure and righteous ones are going, to be caught up in the sky with Jesus!”

I was in shock. It seemed to be happening in slow motion. The shape was much bigger now, and coming fast.

Within moments, the shape crashed into Mom’s roof with a deafening thud.

Ian burst into tears. “Jesus hit the roof!” he said.

 

 

Chapter 4

 

I was frozen with shock. Part of my mind had registered the fact that this was someone whose parachute hadn’t opened. What if it was Basil? I felt as if I had fallen into another dimension. Everything around me was happening in slow motion. It all seemed so surreal.

I heard someone calling my name, but I just stayed locked in my own little world. I tried to force myself into action. I’m usually good in an emergency, and it’s only afterward that I feel the effects.

But nothing could be done for whoever it was that had landed on the roof. Finally, Mom managed to get my attention. I looked down to see she was shaking my arm. Her face was white. “Laurel, what should we do?”

I just looked at her. I tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Janet walked over to me and shook my shoulders hard. “Laurel, I’ve just called the police.”

I nodded. I could feel myself returning to reality, but the shock was just too much to bear. I looked at Ian and John, and I could see they were feeling the same way that I was. They were still staring at the roof. Luckily, Janet had the presence of mind to call the police.

“I wonder if that was Basil?” Janet said calmly. “If it was Basil, you’ll need to be looking for another accountant, Laurel.” She said it in a matter of fact voice.

Instead of making me even more upset, her words spurred me into action. “We must do something!” I exclaimed. I looked at my mother, who was white and shaken.

“Laurel, there’s nothing you can do,” Mom said. It was the nicest tone she had ever used on me.

Unfortunately, Janet agreed with her. “Even
I
won’t be able to help him,” she said. “They’ll be scraping up the pieces and putting them in a plastic bag.”

I clutched at my stomach, and bent over the rose bushes. I thought I was going to be sick.

To my surprise, Mom came to my rescue. “Janet,” she said, “go to the front and wait for the police.”

Janet did as she was told. After a few moments, the nausea passed, and I straightened up.

“I hope it wasn’t that wonderful man, Lewis,” Mom said, looking up at the roof once more.

Ian and John had apparently recovered sufficiently to walk over to us, but they didn’t speak. Both looked shaken. I heard police sirens in the distance. One of the perks of living in a small country town is that the police are never far away. I hoped that I would soon hear that it wasn’t Basil. With that thought, I had to sit down on the grass because I felt as if I was going to faint. I put my head between my legs and hugged my knees to me.

I only looked up again when a police vehicle came to a stop near me. I was relieved to see Duncan, my best friend Tara’s husband, and one of the two police officers in town. Duncan, Tara, and I had gone to high school together. Duncan got out of the car, and headed straight for me. I stood up, and he took me by the arm. “It wasn’t Basil, Laurel.”

I sank back to the ground, this time with relief. I shook uncontrollably from head to toe. I had been somehow holding it together, and now that I knew Basil was safe, the relief was having a strange effect on me.

“Was it that nice man, Lewis Lowes?” Mom asked Duncan.

“Yes, I’m afraid so, Mrs. Bay,” he said solemnly.

Mom burst into tears, and Ian and John both awkwardly patted her on the back.

Duncan was talking to Janet, the only lucid one amongst us. I could see his lips moving, and I was close enough to hear, but I couldn’t take it in. Finally, I found my voice. “Is Basil all right?” I asked Duncan.

Duncan nodded.

“Where is he?”

“The detectives will need to question everyone involved,” Duncan said. “They’re on the way to the clubhouse, and then they’ll need to question all of you. Forensics are on their way here now.”

Duncan kept speaking, but I zoned out again. The relief that Basil was okay was overwhelming. I was still trembling with the shock of what had just happened. Mom, Ian, and John did not seem to be fairing much better than I was, although Janet was obviously her usual self. “Even
I
won’t be able to make that body look good,” Janet said loudly and gleefully to Duncan. “And I’m sure there won’t
be
a body, at any rate.”

Duncan shot the rest of us a look, before putting his hand on Janet’s shoulder and mercifully leading her away from us.

Duncan said a few words to Janet and then walked back over to us. “I’ve just asked Janet to take you to the funeral home, and make you all a cup of hot tea.”

I wondered at the wisdom of sending Janet with us, given the way she was physically unable to say anything tactful, but I really didn’t feel as if I’d be up to making anyone, even myself, a cup of tea.

“Why can’t we go to my house?” Mom protested.

Duncan shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bay, but your house will be off limits until the detectives have cleared it. I suggest you call your insurance company right now.”

I’d been so worried about Basil, that I hadn’t thought that Mom’s roof would be damaged. Clearly it had not occurred to her, either. I watched as the realization dawned on her, and her hand flew her mouth. “What? You mean that poor man fell through my roof?”

Duncan appeared to be choosing his words carefully. “There’s likely to be some damage, Mrs. Bay, but we won’t know the extent for a while.”

Ian spoke up. “We’ll just hope and pray that there isn’t any damage to the roof, and that will fix it.”

Mom rounded on Ian. “What do you mean?” she snapped at him. That was the first time I had ever seen her speak like that to Ian.

Ian was clearly taken aback. “I just mean, if we think and pray on it, then the roof will be all right.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous, Ian!” Mom said angrily. She turned on her heel and stormed off toward the funeral home.

For the first time ever, I felt sorry for Ian. “Mom’s just upset,” I said. “Let’s all go to the funeral home, and Janet can make us all some nice hot tea.”

The three of us duly followed Janet into the funeral home. We found Mom already in the kitchen, her face beet red.

“Tea or coffee?” Janet asked us cheerfully.

“I think tea would be better, Janet,” I said, “given that everyone is so upset.”

Janet appeared to be genuinely puzzled. “Why would anyone be upset?”

If she didn’t know, how could I explain it to her? Nevertheless, I attempted to do so. “Well, someone has just died, and…”

Janet nodded. “Yes, I see. The insurance mightn’t cover the entire costs of the roof.” She shot Mom a rare look of sympathy, and then turned to me. “How long do you think forensics will take to get here?”

“Not soon enough,” I said. Janet was a genuinely nice person, but had a real problem being tactful.

After Janet made us each a cup of tea, she proceeded to tell us at great length what state the body on the roof would be in. Mom was still on the phone with her insurance company, so luckily for her, she didn’t hear any of it. Ian and John looked as though they would faint. I wasn’t doing much better.

“I’ll just go and wait outside in the fresh air,” I said. “I’ll wait out there until the detectives come to question us.”

“I’ll go with you,” John Jones said eagerly.

Before he could tell me that he had to protect me because he was my date, or some equally unbearable pronouncement, I held up my hand to forestall him. “No!” I exclaimed. “You and Ian should stay here and look after Janet. I don’t think the shock has hit her yet.”
And it never will
, I added silently.

John agreed with obvious reluctance. I hightailed it out of there into the fresh air. I soon felt much better on my own, away from Janet, Mom, Ian, and John, but I was nervous and fidgety. I paced up and down outside the funeral home, hoping forensics or the detectives would arrive soon. I expected I wouldn’t feel okay until I saw for myself that Basil was in fact all right.

Finally some vehicles approached. They went past me and headed to Mom’s house. I hurried after them.

Mom’s house was in a flurry of activity. Shiny steel extension ladders were produced from a white van, and in no time, people in white suits were shimmying up to Mom’s roof.

I looked for Basil, but couldn’t see him. Two men in suits were speaking to Duncan and his recently arrived partner, Bryan, so I assumed that they were the detectives. Duncan saw me looking and waved me over.

“Laurel, this is Detective Swan and this is Detective Brand. Detectives, this is Laurel Bay. She’s the daughter of Thelma Bay who owns the house.”

Detective Brand focused on me. “So you were one of the witnesses?”

“Yes, I was standing here with my mother, and so were Janet who works at the funeral home and Mom’s friends, Ian and John.”

The detective nodded. “We’ll take your statements later. Where are the other witnesses?”

“They’re at the funeral home, having a cup of tea,” I said. “This was a terrible shock for all of us.”

“I’m sure it was,” the detective said, but his tone was devoid of sympathy. I expected he had seen too much of this sort of thing, though I imagined not specifically people falling to their deaths from an airplane. I assumed he was hardened by his job.

The detective did not appear to want to question me further at this point, so I wandered over to Mom’s rose garden where I could see the proceedings, but not get in the way.

Still, it was hard to see anything from the ground. The people in white suits scurried over the roof and occasionally one of them came back down and placed what I assumed was evidence in the big white van.

Soon, the others joined me. Mom marched straight up to Duncan. “When will I be allowed back in my house?” she asked loudly.

I hurried over to them.

Detective Brand asked a question of his own. “Have you contacted your insurance company yet?” he asked her.

“Yes, I have,” Mom said.

“I suggest you get in touch with them again and inform them that there is damage to your roof, and it won’t be weatherproof at this time.”

I shuddered. That meant that Lewis Lowes had fallen through Mom’s roof. I hadn’t liked the man, but I hadn’t wished him dead. It was just too gruesome to think about. Mom appeared to be of the same opinion because she waved her hands wildly in the air and wasn’t able to say anything further.

Just then, the air shimmered in front of me. I thought I was getting a migraine headache, but then it took form, the form of Lewis Lowes.

I screamed.

At once, everyone’s attention focused on me. “It’s the stress,” I said lamely. “I didn’t mean to scream.” At least that was the truth.

In all the trauma of the day’s events, it hadn’t occurred to me that Lewis would appear in ghost form. And while his body was probably in a million pieces—I shuddered at the thought—his ghostly form looked just like he had when I had last seen him, when he was alive.

Lewis winked at me. “You seem surprised to see me, Laurel.”

I looked around me, but everyone was now looking at the roof. I walked back to stand near Duncan’s police vehicle. “Do you know that you’re a ghost?” I said.

Lewis laughed. “Yes, and I haven’t gone to hell. When I was on my way down, and my chute didn’t open, I was scared that I’d go to hell. But now I’m here, and isn’t it wonderful! Now I don’t have to pay any taxes or pay back any of my debts.”

He looked genuinely pleased. I wondered if he had lost his marbles along with his life.

 

 

BOOK: Make the Ghost of It (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 3): (Ghost Cozy Mystery series)
2.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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