Page 53 of A Midsummer Night's Ghost

Sara panicked. “Oh, crap, I need to hide. Anne scares me.”

With that, she took off.

“Why is she scared of Anne? Anne is so sweet,” Grandma said.

Why my grandmother thought that was beyond me.

Mary’s funeral was providing more mysteries than answers.

Or maybe I was just in a constant state of overthinking.

Maybe Lawson Hill was right. I was Nancy Drew-ing everything and didn’t need to be.

“I have a headache. I should have eaten before we came.”

“Let’s do the pretty and then we can leave,” Grandma said. “I’m bored.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“It’s probably the spooks giving you a headache. They can do that.”

That was definitely true.

“And where the hell is Jake?”

It turned out he was drinking beer in the parking lot with Clifford and half a dozen other men.

“Want one?” Clifford asked, reaching in and flipping the lid of a cooler up.

“No, I’m good, thanks. I have a rule not to drink anything that comes out of a trunk.”

“Don’t you put your groceries in the trunk?” a man smoking a cigar asked.

They all cackled.

“We’re ready to go,” I told Jake. “Unless you want to go in.”

“No, I gave Clifford my condolences.”

Clifford put his hand on his heart. “He did. My sweet, sweet Mary. God rest her soul. Thank you all for coming. It means a lot to an old buzzard like me.”

“I’m so sorry, really.”

“Thank you for putting all that pressure on my gut, too, Bailey. You were a trooper.” He flipped open his suit jacket. “Almost as good as new.”

Clifford sounded slightly drunk, which made me think there was harder stuff than beer in that trunk. Or maybe he was on painkillers.

We finished up our goodbyes, Grandma giving Clifford a sympathetic pat on the arm, and then I pulled the keys out of my purse.

Jake held his hand out for them.

“You’ve been drinking.”

“I had half a beer.”

“You can’t get pulled over. I can’t afford the house if you lose your job.” I eyed the parking lot. “Where is the car?”

“What’s wrong?”

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