Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 07 - Two Ghosts Haunt a Grove (3 page)

“Because the ghost came this way.”

“I should have known.”

“Well there is something to this ghost story, but I think there is something more going on here. Mr. Kellmore was very frightened when he talked to me, but that ghost seemed to be scared of us.”

“True. Certainly doesn’t fit the legend,” said Jackie.

“I just want to know what’s really going on and why Mr. Kellmore felt he needed my help.”

“You know curiosity killed the cat.”

“I’m not a cat.”

“You could be.”

“Meow,” I said.

A patch of bushes got my attention. I motioned for Jackie to follow as I trekked over. Instantly, I realized that these plants didn’t belong here.

“Marijuana plants?” said Jackie, “What are they doing here?”

“Not completely sure.”

“Do you think Mr. Kellmore stumbled upon a marijuana farm?”

I thought about it, but this small patch didn’t fit the picture of a drug farm. “Not likely. If this were a marijuana farm the entire area should be covered and we never would have gotten past the gate. This small patch looks like someone planted it for personal use.”

“Why plant it here?”

“Well,” I said, “if it’s here the guy can’t get in trouble for growing it himself.”

“Unless, of course, a bird planted it.”

“Ha-ha.”

My stomach growled. One look at Jackie told me that hers had growled too.

“I’m starving,” she said, “Too bad you didn’t think to pack a lunch.”

“Well, I had brought a couple of bananas.”

“That you squished with your tools.”

“Sorry. You’re probably right though. We should go and come back later.”

I walked back to the open field in the direction of the car. Jackie followed close behind doing her best to not get her jeans dirty. She really should not have worn that frilly blouse of hers. I turned to scold her for being such a sissy when I saw it. A man wearing a dark cloak and three point hat sat on a black horse charging straight for us.

“Jackie, run!”

Jackie looked where I pointed. She bolted. Together we raced through the field leaping over the tall grass and bushes in our effort to get away. My heart pounded in my ears. I knew we would never outrun a horse.

“This way!” I yelled, veering to the left.

Jackie followed. I hoped we would make it to the covered grove. The horse could not follow us there. The clomping of the hooves drew closer as Jackie and I vainly tried to get away.

“Mel!”

I whirled around. The black rider was almost upon her. “Jackie, look out!”

I charged for Jackie. Helplessly, I watched as she tripped and fell face first into a mud puddle just as the horse reached her, its hooves missing her by inches. Angered, I snatched a rock. Taking careful aim, I threw it at the rider. The way he slumped over a bit told me I had struck gold. He yanked on the reins of his horse and galloped away disappearing into another set of trees.

Quickly, I ran to Jackie. “Are you all right?”

Jackie sat up spitting out a mouthful of mud. “I’m all dirty! And what the hell was that?”

I scanned the tree line, but saw no sign of movement. “I’m not sure.”

“You know what I think? I think that ghost was getting even for us scaring him.”

“I don’t think so,” I said as I helped her to her feet.

“What makes you so certain?” demanded Jackie.

“That other ghost looked genuinely startled when we happened upon him. But this guy—well he seemed to be aiming for us. Like he wanted to scare us off.”

“Getting even I bet.” Jackie flailed her arms about in a vain attempt to get the mud off of her. Drops of liquid goo fell from her hair.

“They wore different clothes and ghosts don’t go around changing their wardrobe. Besides, this guy looked to be too solid. Wish Rachel were here. She’d chase after him.”

“Yeah, well she’s not,” said Jackie, “And I got mud all over my hair!”

“You said just last week that you wanted a mud bath.”

“At the spa!”

“What’s the difference?”

Jackie threw up her hands as she grunted, giving me a “what do you know” look.

“I guess this means you don’t want to go out for breakfast.”

If looks could kill, Jackie’s glare would have sent me straight to the grave.

We hiked back to my car. Jackie had given up trying to keep clean since she was now coated in black mud. Before I allowed her to sit, I placed the blanket from my trunk on the seat. She plopped her butt down with a huff. I chuckled inwardly. I knew she was putting on more of a show than anything else.

Before I went home, I stopped at the mechanic shop Tiny and his gang ran. I did not feel comfortable driving on a spare and wanted a new tire put on. Poor Jackie would just have to wait for a shower. Not that she appreciated it.

“Hey, Mel!” Tiny ran over and gave me a big hug. “What brings you over here?”

“My tire got a flat. I had to put on the spare, but would love a new one.”

“A flat? We checked them last week. They were perfectly fine.”

I opened the trunk and he lifted out the tire. He turned it over and inspected it. “What’d you run over?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“It looks like someone took an axe to your tire.”

“Well there weren’t any axes on the road,” said Jackie stepping out of the car.

“Whoa! What happened to you?” chortled Tiny after taking one look at Jackie.

“Mel, decided to go hiking at that Smiley place or whatever and some guy on a horse knocked me in a mud puddle.”

“You what?” Tiny gawked at me. “No one goes up there. A ghost haunts that place and any who sees it dies.”

“Actually, I think there are two. I’ll explain everything while you change my tire. In the meantime, is there a place where Jackie can clean up?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Tiny, “Elise’s got some things that should fit ya.”

Elise walked over to Jackie. “Come on, honey. I’ll get you cleaned up.”

Relieved, Jackie followed.

While Jackie was busy cleaning the mud off of her and changing her clothes I explained the morning’s events to Tiny. He listened with rapt attention and I could tell that inwardly he was scolding me. “I had to go there,” I finished, “Mr. Kellmore was adamant that a ghost was trying to kill him. And when he died right in front of me I had to check it out for myself.”

“You can’t go back up there,” said Tiny.

“Now wait a minute,” I began.

“I mean it. You can’t go back up there.”

I crossed my arms and looked down. “Fine,” I muttered, though I knew this was a promise I would never keep. It’s not like he had to know that I would be going back.

My stomach gurgled.

“You haven’t eaten again,” blurted out Tiny. “You know, packing a lunch when you go on a hiking trip is usually a good idea.”

Someday I might actually remember to eat. Then I wouldn’t get scolded.

“Sombrero, we need some grub,” said Tiny.

“Uh, can you include a salad in that order?” I asked. I really did need to eat more vegetables and all of the hamburgers and pizzas were beginning to go to my waistline.

“Salad?” said Tiny with a disgusted look on his face, “What do you want to eat green food for?”

“It’s healthy,” I replied. “You can add some hot wings to the salad.”

That seemed to placate Tiny. “Well, that’s something at least. All right you heard her.”

“And don’t forget Jackie,” I added quickly as some of the boys rode off.

By the time Jackie had finished cleaning up—and she looked perfect as usual—Tiny’s boys had returned with the food. We decided to just eat lunch there. Both Jackie and I were famished. I had never seen her dig into a plate of hot wings like that before with the sauce all over her face. Of course, it only took her a minute to clean up and make herself flawless once more.

By the time we had finished eating my car had a new tire. Sticky walked up to me wiping the grease off his hands on a towel. “Your car is as good as new.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“Oh and you might want these,” Sticky held up my car keys.

Immediately, I checked my pockets. Smiling, I took the keys from him. “You have got to stop doing that.”

“Old habits,” chuckled Sticky.

Jackie and I got in my car and I started the engine.

“Now I mean it, Mel,” said Tiny, “I usually don’t agree with cops, but this time I must admit that Detective Shorts is right. Stay away from that place.”

I wrestled with opening my mouth or not. I really didn’t want to promise Tiny anything, but he leaned on the driver’s side of my car waiting for an answer. “I’ll try,” I said.

Tiny’s expression told me he didn’t believe me. I mean, come on. These guys knew me better than anything else. Have I ever stayed away from a mystery? Though, I wasn’t in a hurry to go back to that abandoned inn. But the guy on the horse had me intrigued. Who was he?

Chapter 3

Jackie and I arrived back at our place within twenty minutes. Relieved to be home, she jumped out of the car and went inside without waiting for me. I couldn’t blame her. It was partly my fault that her morning was a bit more interesting than normal.

When we approached our door, Mrs. Dayton waited for us. She was our neighbor who lived a floor below us. About a year ago her dog died and Jackie had baked a cake for her. Actually, Jackie was friendly with everyone in the building, especially Mrs. Dayton. The poor lady lived alone and had no family. She rarely went anywhere.

“Mrs. Dayton,” greeted Jackie, warmly. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, well I bought you two a present.”

“Oh?” said Jackie.

“I didn’t bring it with me. I didn’t know if you two would be home.”

“That’s okay,” I said, “We can just pop down in your place.”

“Oh, you’re such a dear.” Mrs. Dayton walked down the hall to the stairs while Jackie and I trailed after her. Entering her apartment was almost like going back in time. She had a sewing machine in the corner that dated back to 1945. She had the typical couch with decorative pillows and crocheted doilies on the tables. I scanned the massive amount of framed photos that hung on the wall. Most of them were black and white with the same young woman in them. I assumed it was Mrs. Dayton when she was younger. She was a very beautiful woman in her youth.

A tea kettle whistled on the stove. Quickly, Mrs. Dayton ran to it pulling it off the burner. “Oh, I forgot I had this on. Tea?”

“Yes, please,” said Jackie as she examined an old television set that seemed to serve more as a table than anything else.

“I only have chamomile,” said Mrs. Dayton as she pulled cups out of the cabinet. “I’m afraid I can’t do anything that’s caffeinated anymore. Pacemaker you know.”

“That’s all right,” said Jackie.

“Oh, that television I’ve had for almost fifty years,” said Mrs. Dayton finally taking notice of Jackie’s interest in it. “I remember when my father bought it. It doesn’t work anymore, but I couldn’t bear to part with it.

“And that sewing machine was my mother’s. Too many memories, which is why I still have it. It still works you know. But I don’t use it as much. Arthritis you know.”

Jackie and I both smiled as we took the cups of tea she handed us and sat on the couch.

“Oh, yes, I had something to give you.” Mrs. Dayton rummaged through a basket pulling out a wrapped package. She handed it to Jackie who carefully opened it. Inside was a pipe. Not just any pipe. This pipe was about 20 inches long and appeared to be made of ivory. A few decorative markings were on it.

I took the pipe from Jackie and examined it. It felt real enough. It felt like ivory, but I thought ivory was really expensive. “Mrs. Dayton, where did you get this?” I asked.

“From the flea market.”

“The flea market?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Dayton sat down in a flower covered chair. “There is this place down there that is selling all sorts of antiques. They specialize in items made from ivory. I got that pipe for $50.”

“$50?” I said. No way would someone sell an ivory antique for fifty bucks.

“Mrs. Dayton, are you sure this is real?” asked Jackie.

“Well the man at the store told me it was.”

“But why would he sell it so cheap?” I asked, more to myself than her.

“Well, he said that he had come upon a bunch of old antiques when he inherited some old family property. The man felt that to sell them to a rich collector would be a travesty. So he set up a place at the flea market where he is selling some of his items at affordable prices. Of course, the larger antiques he sold to a collector for a hefty sum. Isn’t that nice?”

I handed the pipe back to Jackie. “It just seems odd. But thank you for the pipe.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” said Mrs. Dayton with a wave of her hand. “I know neither of you smoke, but I thought it would make a nice decorative item for your apartment. Can never have too many of those.”