Page 20 of Ghosts, Ghouls, and Growls
Her face looks exactly like mine!
A chorus of gasps fills the lobby, with mine being the loudest. It’s like looking in a mirror, if mirrors showed you a glowing, semi-transparent version of yourself floating several inches off the ground.
“I know,” Hazel says, nodding at our shocked expressions with the satisfaction of someone who’s just successfully blown everyone’s minds. “I thought it was you at first. But we didn’t see anything with our naked eyes—only what the camera captured.”
She launches into an explanation about the infrared technology they use in their specialized cameras, which can detect heat signatures and energy fluctuations beyond the visible spectrum. The cameras also have ultra-sensitive light sensors that can capture photons that human eyes can’t perceive, resulting in footage of phenomena that would otherwise remain invisible.
“That sounds halfway between science and science fiction,” I say, still staring at my spectral doppelgänger and wondering if this is how Alice felt when she fell down the rabbit hole.
A swarm of guests approaches the counter like they’ve sensed that checkout time is approaching, forcing Grady and Nessa back to their posts with the reluctance of people who’ve just been pulled away from the most interesting thing to happen all week.
Mom and Georgie drift toward the pumpkin display with Ella still nestled in Mom’s arms, the pets trailing behind them like a furry entourage.
“I need to run,” Hazel says, tucking her phone back into her pocket, “but I was wondering—would it be okay if the Beyond Belief Paranormal Club hosts a meeting in the library here at the inn tomorrow night? After what we found, everyone’s eager to continue the investigation.”
“Absolutely,” I agree. “I’ll make sure refreshments are available. Ghost hunting is hungry work, I imagine.”
“Thanks, you’re the best,” Hazel says with a smile that suggests I’ve just made her week. “We’ll try not to disturb your other guests.”
I hesitate for a moment before asking, “Hazel, do you have any idea who would want Heath dead? I know my sister is the prime suspect, but...” I let the question hang in the air like a ghost itself.
Her expression turns guarded. “Heath didn’t have a big fan club, that’s for sure. But I didn’t know him as well as Buffy seemed to. Let’s just say, they’ve been cozy for the last few months, and as of late, that seemed to have soured. Very quickly.”
With that cryptic remark, Hazel heads for the exit, leaving me standing there trying to process both supernatural evidence and potential murder motives.
My sister might be the only one on the official suspect list, but I’m positive she’s innocent. Macy may be many things, but she’s more likely to kill someone with cutting remarks than actual knives. There’s another killer out there somewhere, and if the police can’t find them, I’ll have to—before Macy is forced to trade her designer wardrobe for an orange jumpsuit that definitely won’t complement her skin tone.
Mom and Georgie return, with Ella now awake and making those little pre-cry face scrunches that suggest a meltdown is imminent.
“So where are we off to, Toots?” Georgie asks, clearly itching for some amateur sleuthing. “Who’s suspect number one?”
“And it had better not be Macy,” Mom adds with the fierce protectiveness of a mother bear who’s ready to defend her cubs against all accusations, reasonable or otherwise. “My daughters may drive me to drink on a daily basis, but they’re not killers. Well, maybe of my patience, but not of actual people.”
“It’s not Macy,” I assure them, taking Ella back and bouncing her gently. “But someone in the Beyond Belief Paranormal Club knows more than they’re saying, and I intend to find out who.” I pause, mentally rearranging my day to include amateur detective work alongside my regular duties of running an inn and keeping a tiny human alive. “I think it’s time for a little chat with Buffy. After what Hazel just told me about her relationship with Heath, she’s moved to the top of my list.”
After all, I’ve always been good at seeing things that others miss, whether they’re hiding in plain sight or behind a façade as transparent as a ghost.
I glance over to the bay window where my doppelgänger was hovering just a few short hours ago. It’s the same ghost I saw floating right through the inn doors last night like she owned the place.
A shiver runs up my spine.
Who is that woman and why is she here? Has she always been here?
But for now, it’s one mystery at a time.
Buffy Butterwick, you’re up next.
CHAPTER 10
It took me exactly an hour to change Ella, nurse her, and put her down for her nap, which lasted a whole seven minutes before she decided that sleep was for the weak. Then I landed her right back in her stroller, and we were off to the races.
The stroller is such a marvel of modern engineering that it has more bells and whistles than a locomotive—cup holders that warm bottles, a sound system that plays lullabies, shock absorbers that could handle an off-road expedition on Mars, and enough storage compartments to smuggle a small elephant. The only thing it doesn’t do is fly, though I’m pretty sure that feature is coming in next year’s model.
While I was tending to Ella, Mom and Georgie did some digging and discovered that Buffy works at a local bookstore right here on the edge of Main Street. Technically, the inn is located on Main Street as well. That is, if you follow it down to where it butts up to the cove. And seeing that the bookshop is just a block over, we decided to walk on this fine fall day.
Sure, the sky is gloomy, filled with dark purple clouds that sit over it like welts, and the wind is brisk enough to make my nose turn the same shade as the cranberries in this morning’s scones, but it feels good to get out and move around.
The Fright Night Spooktacular Halloween Festival doesn’t kick into gear until noon, and then it’s mostly just preschoolers and a fewadults until after five. That’s when the real spooky party starts as people get off work, and kids get out of school and finish their homework—assuming anyone in Spider Cove is still doing homework with a murder fresh on everyone’s minds. Nothing saysfocus on your algebraquite like knowing there’s a killer on the loose.
