Dummy of a Ghost (Novella) (Ghost of Granny Apples) (8 page)

BOOK: Dummy of a Ghost (Novella) (Ghost of Granny Apples)
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Chapter 13

Emma and Kelly followed the hostess as she threaded her way through the crowded club to their reserved table near the front. Trailing behind them were Doug, Shirley, and Granny.

“Look at this place,” said an excited Granny. “It’s packed.”

“Oh dear,” said Shirley, a worried look on her face. “I do hope Chris does well. He didn’t have much time to rehearse.”

“He’ll be fine, Shirl,” said Doug. “I have faith in him and in Mr. Butt-Ugly. From what little I saw, I think he’s going to be a smash hit.”

As they took their seats, Emma said to Kelly, “It’s too bad Nate couldn’t come.”

“He didn’t come because I didn’t ask him,” Kelly answered as she put her handbag on the table.

“What?” Her mother looked surprised.

“Since Phil couldn’t make it, I decided to give the other pair of tickets to someone else.” She looked around. “And here they come now.”

With the help of the hostess, a well-dressed middle-aged couple was making their way toward the table.

“Well, I’ll be,” said Doug, recognizing them.

When the couple arrived at the table, Kelly turned to Emma. “Mom, you remember Chris’s parents, Patricia and Frank May.”

“Of course,” said Emma with surprised delight. “How nice to see you both again. It’s been a long time.” She politely shook hands with them.

The Mays looked pleased to see Emma, but dubious about their surroundings.

“Please, Mr. and Mrs. May,” said Kelly. “Sit here.” She directed them to the two chairs at the table with the best view of the stage. While they got seated, Emma shot Kelly a questioning look, but Kelly only smiled at her.

Wanting answers, Emma addressed the Mays. “Chris didn’t think you folks were going to make it tonight. What a nice surprise.”

“Well,” answered Frank, looking a bit sheepish, “we didn’t think we could, not even when your daughter called the other day and told us how much it would mean to Chris.”

“But when she called this morning and told us what had happened, we couldn’t stay away,” added Patricia. She smiled at Kelly. “Your daughter can be quite persuasive.”

Emma looked at Kelly with wonder. “Yes, she can be.”

Behind the Mays, the ghosts of Doug and Shirley Pearson gave Kelly wide grins and two thumbs-up.

The show was raucous and fun. Even the straitlaced Mays seemed to be having a good time, especially after a couple of cocktails. Chris was up next to last, and when he made his appearance on stage, he did a double take when his eyes flashed over this parents sitting up front. After a short stutter at the beginning of his act, Chris took off as if energized, and he and Mr. Butt-Ugly brought the house down with a nearly seamless routine.

After all the contestants had performed, there was an intermission during which the judges would deliberate on the winner. During that time, Emma, Kelly, and the Mays went backstage to say hello, along with the trio of happy ghosts.

“Mom. Dad. You came.” Chris put down the puppet and went to his parents. He stopped just short of hugging them. The three of them stood facing each other, awkward and unsure of how to make the first move, until Kelly gave Chris a bump forward. He nearly fell into his mother, who immediately wrapped her arms around him.

“We’re so sorry, Christopher. So sorry,” she sobbed.

When the embrace ended, Frank May held out his right hand toward Chris. “You were funny as hell, son. The star of the show. We’re so proud.” Instead of shaking his father’s hand, Chris wrapped his arms around his dad and squeezed. His father returned the embrace.

Chris stepped back, looped an arm through Edgar’s, and drew him forward. “Mom and Dad, you know Edgar, my fiancé.”

Another awkward moment, a longer one, then Edgar held out his right hand in invitation. Patricia May stepped forward. She didn’t take Edgar’s hand, but instead leaned in and kissed both of his cheeks. “Welcome to the family, dear.” She sniffed back tears. “Do you two need help planning the wedding?”

“Now, that’s the girl I raised,” said Shirley. Both she and Doug stood close by, beaming.

Granny floated up. “Look at that, a happy ending, just like in the movies.”

Suddenly, Doug nudged Shirley. “Look over there, Shirl. Is that the guy who broke into Chris’s house?”

Shirley looked in the direction he indicated. “It sure is. Don’t tell me he’s here to finish the job.” She turned to Kelly. “We have to talk. It’s urgent.”

With a nod to Emma, Kelly walked several steps away and pulled out her cell, a tool her mother often used to disguise the fact that she was talking to a spirit. The three ghosts followed. Kelly held the phone to her ear and turned away from the crowd. “What is it?”

“That man over there,” Shirley began, “the one with the dark hair talking to that Judy girl.”

Kelly turned slowly until she saw him. “Yeah, I see him.”

“That’s the guy,” Doug said with excitement, “who broke into the house. He’s the one who assaulted Chris and the snoopy lady.”

“Are you sure?” asked Kelly.

The two ghosts nodded. “We’d recognize him anywhere,” Shirley said.

Kelly looked back at the Mays and her mother. They were chatting away like magpies with Chris and Edgar.

“Granny,” Kelly said, “tell Mom what’s going on. I’m going over to Judy to find out who that guy is. Doug and Shirley, why don’t you come with me and get a closer look before we make any moves.”

Kelly wandered over to where Judy Jump was standing with the man the ghosts had indicated and another performer, a man named Leroy who used a monkey puppet. Judy smiled as she approached. “Hi, Kelly.”

“I wanted to come over and say congratulations on the great show.” She turned to the other performer. “Great jobs, both of you.”

“Thanks,” said Leroy, “but it was really Chris who killed it tonight. If he doesn’t win, I’ll be shocked.” Someone waved to Leroy and he excused himself.

“Chris really did do great,” said Judy. “Where did he get that new puppet from? It’s hilarious.”

“That’s Buddy,” Kelly explained, “the puppet he used when he first learned ventriloquism. Edgar gave him a last-minute makeover yesterday so Chris could do the show.”

Judy looked surprised. “But I thought the creep who broke in wrecked all the dummies.”

“Buddy was in a closet.”

The guy next to Judy laughed. “Kind of like Chris himself.”

Judy shot him a hard look.

“I’m sorry,” said Kelly to the man, “but I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Kelly Whitecastle.” She looked him over. He was tall and slim with light brown skin, just as Snoop Dog and the Pearsons had described him.

The guy shook her hand with a short, punctuated jerk. “Dave Loomis. Judy’s boyfriend.”

“That’s the guy, Kelly,” Doug said. “We’re absolutely sure.”

“Kelly,” Emma called. “Over here.” A couple of feet away, Emma stood aiming her phone at the group. “Come on now, you guys, pose nice,” she urged. “It’s a special night.” Judy, Dave, and Kelly grouped together and smiled for the camera while Emma took a couple of photos.

“We’d better get back to our table,” Kelly told them. “Nice meeting you,” she said to Dave. “Good luck,” she said to Judy.

“Aren’t you rooting for Chris?” asked Judy.

“Of course, but I understand second prize is a thousand dollars and third is five hundred.”

“You know what Dale Earnhardt said, don’t you?” asked Dave.

Kelly shook her head.

“Second place is just the first place loser.”

“Then may the best ventriloquist win.” Kelly smiled and turned toward her mother. “And may you both get everything you deserve,” she mumbled under her breath.

Back at the table, Kelly asked her mother, “Where are the Mays?”

“They decided to stay backstage with Edgar while the winners are announced.” She looked at Kelly. “That was a wonderful thing you did, calling them.”

Kelly shrugged. “I had to give it a shot. In this case, it took two shots. I know how I’d feel in Chris’s shoes.” Kelly looked the crowd over, then said to Emma in a whisper, “Doug and Shirley are sure that Dave, Judy’s boyfriend, is the one who attacked Chris and wrecked their place. And after meeting him, my gut is saying it’s true. They may think Judy’s their friend, but I think she’d doing anything in her power to win this contest, even eliminating Chris with violence.”

“Ever hear of Nancy Kerrigan?” Emma asked. “Or Tonya Harding?”

Kelly thought a minute. “Wasn’t Kerrigan an ice-skater?”

“Yes, both Kerrigan and Harding were champion ice-skaters, even Olympians. When you were just a tiny baby, Tonya Harding’s husband hired a thug to break Kerrigan’s leg so she couldn’t skate. He didn’t break her leg, though, only injured it, and she went on to win silver in the Olympics. Harding competed in the same Olympics but lost. After that, her career did a big belly flop.”

“Wow,” Kelly said. “By the way, good thinking taking that photo of us.”

“Yes, once Granny told me what was going on I called the officer who took the report and sent him the photo. He’d given me his card yesterday. I let him know the guy who might have broken into Chris and Edgar’s and assaulted Ms. Doxson was here right this minute. Maybe if Ms. Doxson is up to it, they can show the photo to her. Otherwise, I’m not sure what we can do. We can hardly say ghosts told us he’s the guy.”

“So what did you tell the cop to explain how you knew Dave was the one?”

“I said he had a bad cut on his hand and was acting kind of guilty around Chris.” Emma shot Kelly a slightly sheepish look. “The last part I made up.”

“A cut? I didn’t notice that, and I shook hands with him. And how do you know his injury came from the break-in?”

“I don’t, but it was worth a shot. It’s on his left hand,” Emma told her. She pulled out her phone and showed Kelly the photo. Kelly was to Dave’s right. Judy to his left. For the photo, Dave had put his left arm around Judy’s shoulder. Sure enough, his left hand bore a wide white bandage. “What’s his name?” Emma asked. “I didn’t get that before. I just gave them Judy’s name.”

“Dave Loomis.”

Emma punched the information into her phone and sent the text. “There, now the officer has a face and a name to go on.”

The MC of the show came on and the audience hushed. All the performers and their puppets filed onto the stage. The third place winner was announced first. It was Leroy. He and his monkey puppet waved to the crowd and took a bow. Next came second place. The thousand dollars went to a woman named Lindsay Holm who performed with a vampire puppet. Finally it was time to name the grand prize winner. The music swelled, then waned. When it was silent again the announcer called out in a great shout: “Christopher May!”

Confetti fell from the rafters. Music blared. The crowd thundered with applause, shouts, and whistles. Chris, clutching Mr. Butt-Ugly, fell to his knees as Edgar and the Mays dashed onstage to swarm him with hugs. Kelly’s face hurt from grinning. Her hands stung from applauding. She glanced over at her mother to see tears of joy coming down Emma’s cheeks. Even Granny, Doug, and Shirley were clapping and jumping up and down. Doug and Shirley the puppets may have been sidelined, but the Doug and Shirley who really mattered had been here to see Chris’s triumph.

During all the excitement, Kelly’s eyes roved across the other performers’ faces. Most seemed the same—disappointment for themselves mixed with appreciation for the winner. Judy’s face was hard and her brows knitted. Just offstage, Kelly saw something else—something Judy didn’t see: uniformed officers.

Chapter 14

“So, you ready to go back to school tomorrow?” asked Phil as he settled against the railing of the porch at Emma’s cabin in Julian.

They’d just returned from Phil’s ranch across the way, where Phil’s Aunt Susan and Uncle Glenn had hosted a huge dinner to say good-bye to Kelly. Emma’s parents had driven down to Julian with them on Friday and had stayed behind at the ranch house to play cards with Susan and Glenn.

“Yes and no,” answered Kelly truthfully. “I love school and living in Boston, but I’m always sad to leave home, especially Julian. I love it here.” She sat in one of the four large rockers on the wide porch and moved gently back and forth. To her left Emma sat in another chair. To Kelly’s right two other rockers moved in rhythm, occupied by the ghosts of Granny Apples and her husband, Jacob. The mountain night air was cool, and except for the ghosts, they were all bundled in jackets and held mugs of hot cocoa.

“Julian will be here when you come home again,” said Granny. “It will always be your home. It’s in your blood.”

Emma quietly conveyed Granny’s words to Phil. “So true,” he agreed. “Just like the ghost thing.” He took a sip from his mug. “Speaking of which, whatever happened to Doug and Shirley?”

“After the police arrested Dave and Judy,” Emma said, “and Chris and his parents were reunited, Doug and Shirley decided to move on to the other side permanently.”

“Too bad,” said Granny. “I liked them.”

“I liked them, too, Granny, but they felt what they were called here to do was done and they weren’t needed any longer.”

“You mean looking after Chris?” asked Phil.

“Yes,” answered Emma. “And Edgar doesn’t have to worry anymore either. Frank May looked into the guy who had threatened him years ago. He died in a prison fight about two years back.”

“So he didn’t write that note or make those calls?” asked Phil.

Kelly shook her head. “No, it was all Judy Jump,” she explained. “She knew Edgar’s story and used it to try to scare him and Chris, giving a plausible reason for the vandalism so no one would look closer to home. When Dave failed to get to the Doug and Shirley puppets twice, Judy set it up to make sure both Edgar and Chris were out of the house. It was even her idea to go somewhere where they could take Pugsley along.” Kelly laughed. “The only thing she didn’t count on was Snoop Dog. Chris and Edgar never told her about their nosey neighbor.”

“By the way,” Emma said. “I stopped by the hospital yesterday to see Sylvia.”

“Sylvia?” Kelly asked.

“Yes,” Emma said with a smile. “I’ve been granted permission to call her Sylvia. I also met her niece Josephine. Josephine and her family are Sylvia’s only living relatives and they live near Oxnard. When Sylvia is well enough she’s going into a retirement home near them. Josephine told me they’ve been trying to get her aunt to do that for years. Sylvia’s fighting it, but the doctor is insisting that she can’t live alone anymore. Chris and Edgar have offered to pack up the house and look after it until it’s sold. They’ve been by several times to visit her in the hospital.”

Phil took a long drink from his mug and wiped his moustache. “Did you tell the guys about Shirley and Doug the ghosts?”

“No,” answered Emma. “Doug and Shirley decided they didn’t want them to know, especially since they weren’t sticking around.”

“What about the other ghost? The one under the tree, the murdered guy?” he asked.

“Not a murdered guy at all,” Emma explained. “It turns out his name is Sid and he’s the spirit of a very old man who expired recently. He and his wife used to live in Chris and Edgar’s house many years ago. He wanted to visit it one last time, then got confused and didn’t know how to cross over. Granny did the honors of escorting him to the over side.”

“That’s right,” Granny said with a jerk of her chin. “I got him back on track. His wife was waiting for him.”

Kelly got up from the rocking chair. “I’m beat,” she said with a yawn. “As much fun as it was, all this ghost-busting is exhausting. And we have to be out of here early tomorrow to get to the airport on time.”

She leaned over and kissed Emma good night. Then went to Phil and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for a great visit, you guys.” She turned to the ghosts. “Night, Granny and Grandpa Jacob.” Both ghosts gave her a courtly nod before she left.

Phil took the rocker next to Emma. “She never mentioned Nate all weekend. Everything okay?”

“Yes and no,” Emma told him, keeping her voice low. “She broke it off with him Thursday night.”

“I didn’t know that,” said Granny, getting up and coming over to stand in front of Emma.

Emma nodded. “Yes, Kelly decided as much as he likes Nate, he isn’t the one for her and that she wouldn’t be able to find someone else if she still had that connection.”

“Huh,” said Phil. “That was a very mature decision on her part.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Granny. “I never saw her eyes sparkle when she was around him. Not like yours.”

“Mine?” asked Emma, confused.

“Yeah,” said the ghost. “When you’re around the cowboy, your eyes light up, even when you’re mad at him. Same as me for my Jacob over there. And your mother for your dad. Kelly didn’t have that spark for Nate, even though he’s a good guy. And he didn’t have that spark for her. They are both better off this way, sad as it is.”

Emma conveyed Granny’s explanation to Phil.

“So, fancy pants,” he said to Emma when she was done, “I make your eyes sparkle, do I?”

Emma leaned over and kissed him soundly. “You know you do, cowboy.”

After another kiss, Phil looked over at Jacob even though all he saw was a moving rocking chair. “How about that, Jacob? And all this time I thought it was the ghosts giving her that shimmer.”

Keep reading for a special excerpt from Sue Ann Jaffarian’s next Ghost of Granny Apples Mystery . . .

GHOST OF A GAMBLE

Coming in paperback April 2014 from Berkley Prime Crime!

The light fixture was as common as a rock. A simple white metal cylinder recessed into a textured, plain white kitchen ceiling, it beamed soft light down onto the counter below without fanfare or embellishment, like the billions of light fixtures like it around the world.

Emma Whitecastle peered up at it and saw nothing unusual. The baby, however, thought it the greatest attraction since peekaboo. His face blossomed with joy and he dissolved into a fit of giggles each time he looked up. From his seat in the bouncer, the child waved his pudgy arms and legs like a turtle trying to right itself and jabbered happily at the ceiling. His laughter was infectious and Emma couldn’t help giggling along with him.

If you didn’t count Oscar, her ex-husband’s midlife crisis son from his midlife crisis bimbo second wife, it had been a long time since Emma had seen a baby up close and personal. Even with Oscar, she’d kept her distance, given the family dynamics. Emma looked down at the little boy in the bouncer and thought about her own child, Kelly, and how she’d been a sweet, good-natured baby like this. Kelly was now in her third year at Harvard.

“He’s sure a happy little fella.” The comment came from Granny Apples, who watched the child from a few feet away.

Emma nodded without acknowledging the presence of the ghost of her great-great-great-grandmother, instead keeping her eyes on the little boy dressed in pint-size jeans and a green T-shirt covered in orange giraffes.

“What’s his name again?”

The question was not aimed at Granny, but at the woman standing behind the counter on which the baby’s seat rested. The counter jutted out from the wall like an arm, separating the cluttered but cheerful kitchen from the eating area that housed a well-used wooden kitchen table.

“Nicholas,” the woman replied. “He’s about seven months old.”

Nicholas giggled again and bent in half, grabbing his feet in his little hands in a form of infant calisthenics. When he let go, his face beamed upward, as if searching for approval. He still wasn’t looking at Emma. Nicholas only had eyes for the overhead light, communicating to it with smiles and baby babble.

Emma looked up. “You’re right, Dolly. There is something odd about that light fixture.”

“I call it Lenny the Light Bulb.”

“You gave the light a name?”

“Why not? His stuffed animals have names.”

Dolly Meskiel moved closer to the counter. She was in her mid-seventies but moved with the lightness of a much younger woman. A multicolored scarf held her long silver hair back from her still attractive face. Her flouncy Indian print skirt was paired with a long-sleeved peasant blouse of creamy cotton, divided at the waist by a cord of burgundy velvet with silver embellishments. On her feet were hot pink Crocs. Hanging heavily around her neck was an impressive squash blossom necklace. Dolly was not afraid of color.

Emma felt Dolly’s eyes on her, studying her through wire-rimmed glasses perched on the end of her slender nose. Behind the lenses sat sharp blue eyes that matched the color of her thick eye shadow.

“At first it was a silly joke,” Dolly explained. “I started calling the light Lenny when I noticed Nicholas talking to it all the time.” Dolly gently stroked the baby’s fine dark hair with a thin hand. “When his fixation continued, I wondered if there was more to it, especially since Nicholas doesn’t obsess on any other lights, just this one.”

“You think there might be a ghost haunting your house?” Emma looked up at the light again. She couldn’t feel the presence of any spirits, save Granny, and she presently couldn’t see any except for Granny. With Dolly’s air-conditioning running, it was also difficult for Emma to gauge any unusual pockets of cool air, often a sign that spirits were nearby.

“Not my house, just that light.” With a protective hand still on the child’s head, Dolly also peered up at the fixture. “Can ghosts inhabit lights? I’ve never heard of such a thing, but thought if anyone would know, it would be you.”

The comment gave Emma a start. Dolly’s only child was Milo Ravenscroft, Emma’s mentor, friend, and world-famous medium. Emma had driven to Las Vegas as a favor to Milo, though she was still puzzled as to why he needed her help. He was far superior to her in communicating with the other side.

Milo was in Las Vegas with Tracy Bass, his fiancée and Emma’s closest friend, but although the couple was staying with Dolly, neither was currently at Dolly’s townhouse in a quiet neighborhood that seemed light-years away from the glitz and clamor of the famous Strip. Once Emma had arrived and introductions had been made, Milo and Tracy left, saying they had an appointment at the university. Emma knew it was an excuse to let her interact with Dolly without distraction. Before leaving, Milo had said he and Tracy would meet up with Emma later at her hotel. In her head, Emma was working on a list of questions to ask Milo when she saw them.

Emma had left her home in Pasadena shortly after six that morning, just ahead of Tuesday rush-hour traffic. She’d covered the two hundred sixty miles to Vegas in a little over four hours, stopping once, in Baker, to grab a bagel and a cup of coffee at the Mad Greek. Eager to find out what was going on, she’d driven straight to Dolly’s from there. Granny had been excited to tag along to Las Vegas. She loved the place and she loved long car trips. During the drive Emma had listened to a book on tape, something she enjoyed doing and something Granny liked a great deal.

“I may not be able to read very well,” Granny had said, excited as the trip began, “or hold a book, but I sure can listen.”

Emma glanced quickly at Granny, then flashed her eyes upward, indicating she wanted to know what the ghost thought about the light fixture. She did not want Dolly to know about Granny, at least not yet.

Granny moved into Emma’s line of sight and shrugged, letting her know she hadn’t picked up on any spirits either.

“Why Lenny?” Emma asked Dolly.

Dolly hesitated before answering. “I don’t really know. It just seemed to fit.”

Dolly’s hand went from the baby’s head to her own hair. A long lock had fallen across her shoulder. She twisted it while she gave the question more thought. It was a gesture Emma expected from a very young woman, not from someone her parents’ age. She watched Dolly more carefully, wondering if the hair twisting was a sign of nervousness or simply an unconscious habit.

“It was the oddest thing,” Dolly explained. “One morning the name just sort of popped out of my mouth, rather like a hiccup.” She stopped playing with her hair, tossing the long gray strand back over her left shoulder. “Sounds good, though, doesn’t it? Lenny the Light Bulb. Sounds a lot better than Jack the Light Bulb or Maurice the Light Bulb.”

“She’s got a point,” added Granny, who floated closer to the baby, stopping next to Emma.

Emma wiggled the baby’s foot with its blue sock and cooed at him. Still laughing at the light, Nicholas responded by letting his eyes drift down to her. He smiled, showing off two bottom front teeth. When his gaze drifted to Emma’s right, where Granny stood, he wiggled in his seat and grinned in that direction.

“I think the little tyke can see me,” Granny told Emma. Granny slowly moved away from Emma. With his eyes, Nicholas followed Granny’s movement. When she got several feet away, he frowned with confusion and twisted his head to see her better. Granny started to move back toward him. When she got close, Nicholas’s face lit up. “Now I’m sure of it.”

Emma took note of Granny’s experiment, but said nothing. She turned her attention back to Dolly, “What do his parents think?”

“His parents think Lenny the Light Bulb is a funny, cute game I play with their son. I haven’t said anything to them about ghosts.”

“Probably a good idea, at least for the time being. Do you know where they stand on the paranormal?”

“Not really. I’ve been watching Nicholas for nearly two months now, but haven’t spent much time with the Fosters. Usually John drops the baby off every weekday morning between seven thirty and eight. He’s a cop here in town. Suzanne works part-time in a doctor’s office and picks him up around one or one thirty in the afternoon. They live in this complex, but a few buildings over. It’s convenient for them and a good way for me to supplement my income. Plus I enjoy it. It makes me feel less of an old lady.”

Dolly went to the refrigerator and pulled out some baby food. “I didn’t want to scare them, or make them think twice about letting me take care of Nicholas. John already thinks I’m a bit of an eccentric, what with the fortune telling and all, but I was referred to them by people they trust.”

“You tell fortunes?” asked Emma with surprise.

“Yes, didn’t Milo tell you that?”

Emma searched her memory until she found the answer. Milo had never said a thing to her about it, but Tracy had. In a phone call to Emma after her first meeting with her future mother-in-law, Tracy had announced to Emma with amusement that Dolly was a fortune-teller right out of central casting, and a former showgirl.

“No,” Emma said, “but I do recall now that Tracy mentioned it. She also said you were once a showgirl.”

Dolly straightened her posture and smiled. “That’s right, in one of the best shows of its kind. Of course, that was when I was in my twenties. Both Vegas and I were fresh and sassy back then.”

Emma gave the woman a big smile in return. Behind the heavy makeup and loose clothing, Dolly was still a very attractive woman and maintained a trim figure.

“I have a little shop downtown on Fremont Street where I read fortunes,” Dolly said with the same pride she held for her showgirl days. “Been there quite a long time.”

Emma looked around the townhouse, understanding now some of the decor. Even though the complex was modern, Dolly’s home looked like an explosion of a gypsy wagon. While the ceilings were a plain creamy white, the walls were painted different bold colors, and brightly patterned rugs and cushions were scattered across the wood floor. The furnishings were solid and old and also brightly colored. Nothing seemed to match. Books and candles were everywhere. Dolly’s home definitely was not the norm for desert décor.

Knowing Milo and his quirky ways, Emma didn’t expect his mother to be a June Cleaver knockoff, but she wasn’t quite expecting Dolly. So far, she liked the woman. According to Tracy, she also liked and got along well with Dolly. There was something whimsical about Milo’s mother—a rare combination of daffy and wise under the hippy-dippy clothes and electric eye makeup. But Emma still wondered why Dolly hadn’t asked her son to check out Lenny.

“May I?” Emma asked, indicating she wanted to pick up Nicholas.

Dolly smiled. “He loves to be held and cuddled.”

Emma scooped up the solid baby boy and held him so he was facing her. He wiggled and cooed and touched her face, but his eyes never left Granny. They moved as she moved. Emma walked around Dolly’s dining area and living room with him, but Nicholas was determined to keep eye contact with Granny Apples. It wasn’t until Granny disappeared that he concentrated on Emma, changing his focus to her chunky necklace. When she walked back to the kitchen counter, the bold jewelry was quickly forgotten as the baby held out his arms—not to Dolly, but toward the overhead light.

“See what I mean?” Dolly held out her arms and Emma transferred the baby into them. “There’s something in that light. Something only Nicholas can see.”

Although she was in agreement, Emma kept her own counsel. She wanted to talk it over with Milo and see what he thought about the little boy’s behavior. Although Emma knew it was not uncommon for very young children to see or sense spirits, she’d never encountered one personally.

“It is odd, but let me think on this a bit, Dolly, and I’d like to discuss it with Milo. He’s really the expert.”

At Emma’s words, Dolly pursed her lips in disapproval. Or was it disappointment? Emma couldn’t tell.

“I’ll be in town for a few days. Do you mind if I drop by again?”

“Not at all. It would be a pleasure, Emma. I’m usually home until about four each day. After that you can find me at my shop, The Raven’s Craft. Milo has the address, but it’s easy to find. It’s located on Fremont Street almost across from The Golden Nugget. I usually arrive between five and six and stay quite late, depending on business.” She made a funny face at Nicholas, but he still only had eyes for the light fixture.

Emma walked over to the wall next to the counter and flicked a light switch. Instantly the light overhead went out. She watched the baby, expecting him to lose interest in the now dark fixture. He didn’t.

Dolly bounced the baby. “I’ve tried that many times. It doesn’t matter if it’s on or not.”

“And he stares at it all the time?” Emma glanced up and thought she saw a hint of sparkle in the dark orb, but it quickly disappeared.

After some thought, Dolly answered, “Not all the time, no, but most of the time. Sometimes Nicholas giggles and plays like today. Other times he just stares up at it, as if he’s waiting for something.”

Emma turned to retrieve her purse from a nearby chair where she’d left it.

“Did Nemo’s boys send you?”

She whipped around. Dolly was occupied making faces at Nicholas.

“Did you say something?” she asked Dolly.

“I was just telling my little man here I had some yummy strained peaches for him. He loves peaches.”

“You didn’t say anything about Nemo?”

“Nemo?” Dolly stopped playing with Nicholas. “Where did you hear that?”

“Just now. I thought I heard you say something to me about Nemo.”

“No.” Dolly shook her head back and forth with quick jerks. “I didn’t. You must have heard me say
num num num
.” She looked the baby in the face and repeated the words. He giggled.

Emma would have bought the explanation, except for catching Dolly giving Lenny the Light Bulb a furtive glance.

BOOK: Dummy of a Ghost (Novella) (Ghost of Granny Apples)
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