southern ghost hunters 02 - skeleton in the closet (27 page)
Read southern ghost hunters 02 - skeleton in the closet Online
Authors: angie fox
Tags: #cozy mystery
Melody and I did our best as well. My sister had found a new place for the boxes and coatrack that had occupied the storage closet off the lobby, and requested that it be locked until further notice. I had a few things to do as well.
Melody greeted me at the door. "Best hurry," she said, eyeing my bag with Frankie's urn inside. "The library opens at nine o'clock on the dot. And I wouldn't put it past Sheila to show up early."
"You know I'm not a morning person," I said, breathing in the familiar scent of old books. I made my way toward the back, and as I did, I pulled a copy of
The Vampire Lestat
from my bag.
"Is that ours?" Melody asked.
"It is now," I told her as we skirted the desk and made our way to the back hallway. "I need to leave this for a friend."
Melody crossed her arms over her chest as we reached the door to the stacks. "If you don't mind, I'll stay up here."
"No problem." I smiled. The air belowground felt chilly, but the heavy dread had disappeared, at least for me. I didn't see Matthew around, so I left the book on his chair. I had no doubt he'd find it soon enough.
Melody waited for me at the top of the steps. "It's done?"
"Yes," I said, noticing her relief when we returned to the main reading room. "Now I just need a private moment."
She nodded. "Come get me when you finish," she said, treating me to a wink. "I'll be in my office." I watched her go, her shoulders square and her manner confident.
I was glad to see how well she handled herself after Darla's death, the allegations against her, and her boss's arrest. She'd had a few nightmares about her arrest, but had assured me she'd be fine. I hoped that was true. Melody had a great head on her shoulders, and she was one of the strongest people I knew.
Frankie held his own as well, considering he'd had his hopes for freedom dashed. Still, we'd find a way to unground him somehow. I'd promised him.
"Frankie, I'm ready," I said. This time, I didn't demand. I didn't rub at his urn or try to be smart. I took a deep breath as my skin prickled and I felt the air around me shift. A dull light settled over me and I stood in another world.
Silvery light bathed the space around me.
The poker players were back. Stoutmeyer dealt cards while Gregson and Owens studied their hands and ribbed each other. I saw the field hospital in the reading room, and quietly made my way to the third bed on the right.
"Private Baker?" I crouched down next to the military cot. A small flame flickered over the indentation in the pillow. "I heard you'd like me to take down a letter."
I waited patiently as the flame stilled. "I know she's gone." His voice was like a whisper in the air. "But I need you to write it down. I need it to be real before I go."
"I have a pen and paper right here," I said, producing them from my pocket. "I'm ready."
"My dearest mother," he said slowly, practiced, as if he'd thought about this a good long while. "I forgive you." I nodded, writing his words. "Now sign my name at the bottom. Don't say private. Just say, 'Johnny.'"
I did. And with the final stroke of my pen, Johnny Baker's flame flickered out. He was gone.
I stood, not quite sure what to make of it, or where I'd even deliver the note, when Frankie materialized next to me.
"Sometimes, you just need somebody to listen," he said.
True enough. "Thank you for this," I said, "and for everything, really." Yes, he complained sometimes, but he'd always been there for me when he could. "We make a good team."
He raised a brow. "The last 'team' I was on earned me this," he said, lifting the brim of his hat, revealing his death wound. He shoved the fedora back into place.
"Well, this team is going to focus on less dangerous projects from now on. I'm not doing this for a living," I reminded him.
He nodded, as if he'd expected that. "I'll stick around and see how that works out. It's not like I have a choice."
The library doors creaked open, but it wasn't the injured Confederates this time. It was Ellis. He glanced around, surprised to see me alone. "Are you…working?" he asked, hesitating before he approached.
"Frankie and I were just finishing up," I told him. The gangster had already wandered over to join the poker game. "How's your mom?" I asked when he drew near.
He shrugged. "Let's just say you're not coming over for Thanksgiving dinner anytime soon."
I hadn't been out for revenge, just the truth. "At least she can look at my wedding reception tape if she wants to cheer up."
"I hear she's baking up some rhubarb pies," Ellis said dryly.
I shouldn't have smiled, but I did. A pair of ghosts had caught my attention. It seemed Josephine didn't need her house in order to be herself. She was currently mashed up against the circulation desk, kissing Matthew Jackson for all she was worth.
She caught me watching and blushed.
"No need to be embarrassed," I said as they materialized next to me. "It's a new millennium with new rules. I'm glad you're expanding your horizons."
She'd let her hair down, and it flowed out in ghostly tendrils behind her. "Now that our secret is out in the open, Ma moved on. I suppose she needs the rest. And I think she was holding Pa down, because he's back. Although he just putters around the forest and lets me go where I choose."
"Good," I said. Maybe Jeremiah Hatcher could find some peace as well. "I just wish I could help Frankie."
At Matthew's questioning gaze, I explained how Frankie was trapped on my property.
"The solution is quite simple," he explained. "I've seen it done before."
"Really?" I asked. I wished Frankie hadn't been off goofing. He'd want to hear this.
"With his ashes mostly gone, you need to find the one thing he treasures above all else. Place that with his urn, inside if possible. That will give him the strength he needs to leave you."
Wow. That was it?
"Thanks," I said. "We'll work on it from that angle." Presuming Frankie was in tune with his needs and emotions enough to understand what he truly considered valuable above all else.
Still, I wanted Frankie to be happy, even if that meant his leaving me. So we'd try.
Josephine chewed at her lip. "Verity, maybe it's not my place to give advice of this nature, but…you should kiss your man more often," she said, as if she were scandalized by her own suggestion.
I glanced at Ellis, and couldn't help but smile.
"What?" he asked, aware that he was missing out on the joke.
I reached up and slid my hands over his shoulders, and then I kissed him. If it shocked him, he didn't show it. In fact, he kissed me back with so much enthusiasm I wondered if I'd be the one putting on a show for Josephine for a change.
"That's enough," I said, drawing back with a grin. "We have an audience."
Ellis mirrored my mirth. "I figured." He leaned down and brushed his lips once more against mine. "Can't fault a guy for seizing the moment."
I played with his uniform collar. "You realize we just broke the curse."
He cocked his head and waited for me to explain.
I couldn't help but blush a little. "We kissed, and we didn't have to be buried alive, shot at, or set on fire to do it."
He tightened his grip on me. "Let's break the curse again, just to make sure," he said, getting saucy. "We certainly don't want to take any chances."
~THE END~
A note from Angie:
Thank you so much for dropping in on Verity, Frankie, and the rest of Sugarland. I'm truly grateful for the wonderful response this series has received. Just so you know, there will be at least five books total. The next (untitled) book will release in early 2016. In the meantime, be sure to
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Happy reading,
Angie Fox
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THE SOUTHERN GHOST HUNTER SERIES:
A Ghostly Gift
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Untitled Book 3 - coming early 2016
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The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers
My Big Fat Demon Slayer Wedding
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The Tenth Dark Lord 'A Leaping
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Murder on Mysteria Lane (from
The Real Werewives of Vampire County
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What Slays in Vegas (from the
So I Married a Demon Slayer
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About the Author
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bestselling author Angie Fox writes sweet, fun, action-packed mysteries. Her characters are clever and fearless, but in real life, Angie is afraid of basements, bees, going up stairs when it's all dark behind her, and (her friends have way too much fun with this one) puppets.
Angie earned a Journalism degree from the University of Missouri. During that time, she also skipped class for an entire week so she could read Anne Rice's vampire series straight through. Angie has always loved books and is shocked, honored and tickled pink that she now gets to write books for a living. Although, she did skip writing for a week this past fall so she could read Victoria Laurie's Abby Cooper psychic eye mysteries straight through.
Angie makes her home in St. Louis, Missouri with a football-addicted husband, two kids, and Moxie the dog.
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