A Ghostly Murder Read online

  “So,” I whispered and glanced down the hall to make sure Charlotte was back in her office, “is it okay for Jack Henry to join the team?”

  “Sure thing, Emma Lee.” John Howard walked out of my office with me. “So I can tell the boys you agreed to sponsoring us?”

  “Yes, you can.” I smiled. There was no way I wasn’t going to, even if I had to pay for it out of my own money.

  I walked down the hall toward the front of the funeral home and into the vestibule. Velvet curtains hung from each window. I fluffed each one out when I walked by. Dust shot out in clouds.

  “Charlotte?” I hollered out. “How long has it been since you cleaned the curtains?”

  The click of her heels getting closer made my heart beat a little faster. She peeked her head out of her office door.

  “I never agreed to clean them.” She drew back. Her lashes batted.

  “It’s part of your duties to keep the funeral home appealing.” I smacked the curtain, and more dust came out. “Yuck.”

  “You can always call Dixie.” Mamie appeared in the chair next to the pedestal where the memorial cards for Junior were located. “I have no idea what she is doing now that I’m dead. Poor Dixie. I hated leaving her. Mind you, it was against my will. That is why I’m still here. Remember?” She planted her cane on the hardwood floor and danced a jig around it.

  “Emma Lee.” Charlotte snapped her finger in my face. “I swear. Just when I think you are normal, you turn around and go into la-­la land. Plus you were just screaming at the top of your lungs. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I assured her.

  “I’m not.” Mamie Sue gummed and licked her lips. “I told you to find my teeth. Did you? There is no way I can go to a ball game like this.” She smacked her lips together. A hollow sound came out.

  I giggled.

  “I’m fine,” I said again to Charlotte Rae. “I’ll get the cleaning taken care of before the ser­vice tonight if you are so busy.”

  As weird as it sounded, funerals were a big deal in the South. A big send-­off where everyone in town showed up.

  In fact, funerals around these parts were bigger than weddings. Women spent hours in the kitchen making food for the after-­ser­vice. It was sort of a competition to see who made what and whose dish was best. I’d get several calls leading up to the day of a funeral from the Auxiliary women telling me what they were bringing so it wasn’t duplicated. I had to keep notes on who was bringing what dish. It was a big no-­no to have two of the same food item.

  Beulah Paige Bellefry had already called to let me know she had made a new recipe that everyone was going to die for. I was excited to see what it was and how everyone was going to react to it. Especially the Auxiliary women.

  The Auxiliary women were a bunch of local women with nothing to do but sit around in their fancy clothes and gossip. Beulah Paige was in charge of them and whom they invited to become a member. One time, they extended me an invitation, but it was quickly recanted after I was diagnosed with the Funeral Trauma.

  “Everything is great.” I opened the front door of the funeral home and didn’t bother saying good-­bye to Charlotte Rae before I slammed the door behind me.

  Chapter 3

  I’m assuming you can still hear me and see me,” Mamie yammered.

  She continued to keep up with me as I crossed the street. The fastest way to get to the Sleepy Hollow Inn was to cross through the town square, the patch of property in the middle of town that was surrounded by its four major streets.

  “Yes.” I ducked behind one of the trees and looked around to make sure no one was looking at me. The last headache I needed was someone seeing me talk to myself. Then they’d tell Granny, who would call Doc Clyde, who would then ask me to come in for a crazy check.

  I muttered, “This has to be on the down low. I can’t let ­people see me talking to the air. They all think I’m crazy as it is.”

  “You aren’t!” she protested and stuck her cane in the grass. “You are an angel helping all of us.”

  “I have a lot of questions to ask you, but first I need to find your file. And Granny will know where that is.” I pointed to the Inn.

  “Zula Fae?” Mamie Sue asked. She fiddled with the big diamond ring on her finger. “Are you saying that Zula Fae is at the Inn with Ruthie Sue?”

  “Granny owns the Inn.” I had forgotten that Mamie had been dead before Earl Way had died. I looked around the square to make sure we were still alone.

  ­People were beginning to walk around the square and the streets. Most everything you needed could be found in any one of the shops on one of the four streets that bordered the square. I couldn’t let anyone see me, and being sneaky was very important to my Betweener job.

  The square was where all the local festivities took place. The parklike setting had a gazebo in the middle, along with benches. Many ­people spent their lunch hours there, and even the tourists loved to picnic there.

  Sleepy Hollow was a number-­one destination for cave exploration and hiking the gorges. The mountainous backdrop of our small town was home to many beautiful caves and cave tours. It was our bread and butter for a good economy.

  The Sleepy Hollow Inn was on the opposite side of the square. It was as pretty as a postcard, nestled at the foothills of the mountain. Granny owned and operated the Inn after her second husband, Earl Way Payne, died. That was when she retired from the funeral-­home business. I wish I could say she left for good, but Granny had her nose in everyone’s business. Including mine.

  “Earl Way left the Inn to Zula and not Ruthie?” There was an element of surprise on Mamie Sue’s face.

  “Long story short.” I took a deep breath. “Earl Way divorced Ruthie Sue and married Granny. When he died, he left his half of the Inn to Granny. Then Ruthie died”—­I left out the part that Ruthie Sue had been murdered and was my first Betweener client—­“and Granny got the Inn by default.”

  “Interesting.” Mamie Sue took my explanation without more questions. “I’m sure you don’t remember me. I remember you when you were a little squirt running around the funeral home during ser­vices. Your momma and daddy used to get on you. But Zula . . .” Mamie Sue shook her head. “She always told them to leave you alone.”

  I smiled. The good old days. The memories were burned in my mind.

  “Then I think you went off to school.”

  “I did.” I peeked around the tree. No one was around. “I knew I wanted to follow in my family’s business, so I went to mortuary school. What did you do?”

  I didn’t know a thing about Mamie Sue. Maybe a few questions could lead to answers—­of ­people in her past, along with motives for her murder.

  “I did a little of this and that.” She shrugged.

  The sounds of children caught my attention. They were running and kicking balls with their parents close behind them.

  I slipped out from behind the tree and set my sights on the Inn.

  The Inn never had vacancies. It was the only place to stay in town, and reservations were made at least a year in advance. Plus Granny’s home-­cooked meals were to die for. I had tried to talk her into hiring a catering ser­vice, but she said there was nothing doing.

  “They are guests in my home, and I will cook for them. Good Southern hospitality, Emma Lee.” She would shake her fist at me. “That’s why Eternal Slumber is so successful. They knew I would take care of their loved ones just like family.”

  She was right. Charlotte Rae and I did keep things running as smoothly as Granny had. At least most of the time and to the public eye.

  The long front porch of the Inn was lined with rocking chairs. They were currently occupied by Inn guests, each with a glass of Granny’s sweet tea in hand.

  The screen door screeched when I opened it to let myself in. The open foyer was filled with m
ore guests waiting for the dining room to open. They filtered into the room on the right, which Granny made sure to keep stocked with snacks throughout the day.

  Running the Inn was right up her alley. She loved to entertain and cook, not to mention how she loved the attention. The snack room was always filled with good cookies, hors d’oeuvres, and tea. Sweet tea.

  “Good evening.” I greeted Granny with a kiss when I walked into the kitchen. She smelled of cinnamon and sugar. “Something smells good.” I stuck my nose in the air and took a deep breath. I opened one of her many stove doors and looked in.

  “I guess Zula Fae looks good.” Mamie Sue was almost nose-­to-­nose with Granny, taking a good look at her.

  Ahem, I cleared my throat.

  “Don’t you open that door!” Granny grabbed the towel off her shoulder and smacked me with it. “You are going to ruin my apple pies for Junior Mullins’s ser­vice tonight.”

  Granny was such a pretty woman, with her short, flaming-­red hair and beautiful emerald eyes. She was a feisty one.

  “I have you down for peach pie, not apple pie.” My eyes narrowed. I knew I wasn’t mistaken. I got excited when she told me she was making my favorite pie. “I think Bea Allen Burns said she was bringing . . .” Realization had set in. Granny was going to sabotage Bea Allen. “Granny!”

  “What?” Granny asked, all innocent.

  Somehow Granny had known Bea Allen was making apple pie and had changed her dessert. Bea Allen hadn’t lived in Sleepy Hollow for years. O’Dell, her brother and owner of Burns Funeral (Eternal Slumbers’s direct competitor), ran against Granny for mayor of Sleepy Hollow.

  “Bea Allen already signed up to bring apple pie. O’Dell Burns beat you fair and square,” I said.

  Granny didn’t like losing. Especially to a Burns. Our only competition in Sleepy Hollow.

  “I didn’t know Bea Allen was already in the loop. She did just move back from God knows wherever she has been living. Besides,” Granny smoothed her hands down her apron, “she’s been gone so long, she’s green as a gourd. She doesn’t know how to make a good homemade pie,” Granny warned, half serious. “Her idea of homemade is grabbing a pie from Artie’s.”

  She picked up the saltshaker and took the lid off the simmering pot of green beans. She shook the hell out of the shaker. Salt poured out. “I don’t know why she felt like she needed to move back and run the funeral home for O’Dell. It’s not like being mayor of Sleepy Hollow is a full-­time job.”

  Granny ran through the list of mayoral duties. Most of them were just a few minutes here and there, while others were duties requiring a ­couple hours a week. Still, Granny was right. There was really no reason for O’Dell to lessen his duties as the director of Burns Funeral and let Bea Allen take over.

  “And homemade crust?” My eyes widened and my mouth watered.

  “She’s been working on it all day.” Hettie Bell pushed her way through the swinging kitchen doors, shook her head, and put some empty glasses on a round serving tray before filling them with champagne and a chaser of orange juice.

  Hettie Bell owned Pose and Relax. It was the yoga studio next to Eternal Slumber. She also worked for Granny when Granny needed her around the Inn. Hettie was good at everything. She cleaned, did laundry, made the guests’ rooms look nice, cooked, and even helped Granny serve the meals.

  Of course I chipped in when there weren’t any funerals to attend to. We all chipped in.

  Hettie glanced my way with a little smirk on her face. She blew her bangs out of her eyes. Her face danced along with her smile. She knew Granny was up to something. Granny always was.

  “Who told you Bea Allen was making the apple pie?” I asked.

  “Mind your own business.” Granny shrugged and stirred the green beans before she put the lid back on.

  “It is my business. The funeral is my business,” I reminded her. “I keep a list of foods and who is bringing what. And you are bringing peach pie.” My mouth watered.

  “Did you come here to scold me, or did you want something? Because I am busy.” She pointed to the door. “I have a line of ­people I need to feed.”

  There was no sense in arguing with her. Zula Fae Raines Payne was used to getting her way. Though she lost the mayoral election by two votes, she was bound and determined to come out on top somehow.

  If Bea Allen would be mad about Granny’s delicious pie, then she was going to have to get mad. It was out of my hands, so I dropped it.

  “I’m going to start seating ­people,” Hettie said before she disappeared through the door with the tray of cocktails in her hands.

  “Granny, I was wondering about that gravestone with that bell on top of it.” I wasn’t sure how to bring up questions about Mamie Sue and figure out exactly who she was. Neither Granny nor Mamie Sue seemed fond of the other, but the fact still remained: I needed to get Mamie to the other side. And the only way to do that was to bring her killer to justice.

  “I even went to the funeral home and checked the old client files, but there wasn’t a file with Mamie Sue’s name on it.”

  “You won’t find one. She’s a Burns lover.” Granny’s eyes hooded. “Why do you want to know about old Mamie Sue Preston?” She waved the green bean ladle in the air. Juice went flying everywhere.

  “I have never seen a bell on a tombstone like that before.” I tried to play it off the best I could. “It’s interesting.”

  Granny took the towel off her shoulder and poured two tall glasses of iced tea. She carried them over to the table and patted the seat.

  “Come on over.” She took a long drink from one of the glasses. “I need a break. All this talk about Bea Allen and apple pie has got me all worked up.”

  I sat down next to Granny, but my mind wasn’t on drinking tea. I was trying to formulate a way to get into Burns and check out their files, specifically, Mamie Sue’s.

  “She jumped ship.” Granny’s eyes peered over the rim of the glass. She took another drink, as if to wash down the nasty taste or thought of Mamie Sue switching funeral-­home sides.

  According to Granny, you were either on Burns’s team or Eternal Slumber’s team. If your ancestors were buried at Eternal Slumber, it was the same down the generation. Evidently, Mamie Sue didn’t follow in her family footsteps.

  “When the old bat died, I went to the family estate to collect the clothes she had picked out to be buried in and found out she had changed her pre-­need arrangements a few months before.”

  Granny’s eyes flew open with amusement.

  “I’m glad she switched to Burns. She had the ugliest green suit picked out. I mean ugly. I’d rather be buried in a crocus sack than the getup she had picked out.” Granny pushed her fingers in her short red hair, giving it a little lift.

  Mamie’s face drew, her eyes narrowed. She straightened her shoulders, and her face softened. “I want her to know this outfit is made from the finest fabrics. Something you can’t get around this town.”

  “Me,” Granny laid her hand on her chest, “I have a gorgeous outfit, so when I see all my men on the other side, they are going to fight over me.” Granny winked, stood up and did a little butt shake on her way back over to the counter.

  “Good golly, Granny.” I laughed. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Love me. Stop asking questions about the dead. Let the dead stay that way. Dead,” Granny warned.

  “Don’t be going and throwing a hissy fit like you always did, Zula.” Mamie Sue threw her hands in the air. “It wasn’t like you needed my money. You’d been doing just fine on your own.”

  “I’m curious.” I continued to bait Granny. “Please tell me something about her.”

  “She was in the Auxiliary and everything.” Granny slowly nodded her head.

  I wasn’t sure, but I would bet all the Auxiliary women were Eternal Slumber ­people, or Gran
ny wouldn’t be in the group. There was definitely tension between the two in life, and proving to be in death.

  Granny was a grudge holder. She made sure she killed ­people with kindness and her sweet tea instead of using the cute little pink gun that was in the drawer next to her bed.

  “Yep.” Mamie folded her arms. “Zula Fae always thought she was large and in charge of the Auxiliary. And I knew she was going to bust a gut when she found out I changed my funeral plans.”

  The two of them bantered back and forth, neither hearing the other, and making me all sorts of dizzy.

  I took a deep breath. Granny rambled on about how evil Mamie was when they were younger, and Mamie spouted back about how Granny thought she was better than everyone else.

  I planted my elbows on the table and put my head in my hands. Their voices escalated.

  “Enough!” I yelled.

  “Well, I’ll be.” Granny drew back, her Southern accent deep. “How rude of you. You asked.”

  “I’m sorry.” I rubbed my temples. Mamie disappeared. “I have a slight headache, and I didn’t come here to get you all upset about someone who is dead. I was asking a simple question about the headstone.”

  “The bell.” Granny’s brows extended to the sky.

  “Yes. I don’t get the bell.” I pulled the glass toward me and took a sip of tea.

  “I guess they leave the history of the dead out of mortuary school nowadays.” Granny tapped the table before she walked over to check the pies in the oven. She pulled one out and put it on the cooling rack on the counter.

  “Stop!” I warned Granny when I saw the tip of a cane head straight for her ankles.

  “Whoa!” Granny’s arms did a windmill. She teetered back and forth.

  I jumped up, catching her at the waist before she plummeted to the floor.

  “Are you okay?” I got Granny safely on her feet.

  “Why,” Granny straightened her apron, “I don’t know what happened. It was like I tripped over my own feet.”