Ghost in Trouble (2010)

Kay tapped the desktop with her pen. “Why didn’t he simply put the squeeze on someone? Why the drama?”

I drifted to the sofa and dropped gratefully onto the soft cushions. “I think he took pleasure in publicly gigging people. Plus, the seance was a clever way to make everyone present exceptionally uncomfortable and nervous about what she might say next. The obvious threat is that the seance was only a prelude. As he told Laverne, he’s going to let everyone worry and then he’ll make his move.”

Kay looked eager. “Bailey Ruth, we’re getting close. You can monitor everything he does for the next few days. As soon as he sets up a meeting with the killer, we can alert the police chief. You can be there in your cop uniform and video the whole thing.”

In the white bedroom, I admired again the effect of the pearl necklace hanging from red coral. It was a subtle, but commanding use of color. Although it would have been lovely if the circumstances had been happier, I had enjoyed my stay at The Castle. I agreed with Kay that we were nearing the end of her quest. I would follow Ronald to a fateful meeting. If all went well, Jack Hume’s murderer would be revealed and arrested. Soon I would hear the whistle of the Rescue Express and once again leave my beloved Adelaide.

I glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to ten. I felt everything was under control. Until morning, I was free. It would take only a moment for me to see those I loved. Emissaries were under strict orders never to contact family or friends, but a quick peek did no harm. As Wiggins stressed, the living must not be preoccupied with the dead. Moreover, I always felt close to Dil and Rob because whenever they thought of me, I was there for an instant.

My daughter, Dil, her red hair frosted with silver, dished up ice cream at her kitchen counter. Ice cream had always been the bedtime snack at the Raeburn house. Bobby Mac liked chocolate with slivers of almond and chocolate syrup. I poured chocolate over a generous serving of vanilla and crumbles of a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. Dil was a purist, plain vanilla. Our son, Rob, added slices of banana and peanuts to a dip of strawberry. Each to his own taste.

Dil hummed as she added spoons and carried two bowls to the den.

Her husband looked up with a smile. He had a nice, crooked smile that indicated good humor and a wry insight.

Dil settled across from him on a comfortable chintz sofa. “Hugh, the funniest thing. In the kitchen I started thinking about Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. My mom…”

I blew her a kiss.

I found Rob and Lelia in their den. Rob groaned, clapped his hands to his head. “He threw the ball away. He threw it away.”

On the television screen, a first baseman scrambled after a ball that had zoomed over his head. A base runner in visitors’ gray rounded second and flew toward third.

Rob groaned again. “If they lose this game, they’ll be four behind in the wild card.”

His wife, Lelia, made soothing noises, but didn’t look up from her book.

I craned to see. Oh, a novel by Dorothea Benton Frank. Lelia had excellent taste. I would add the author to my reading list.

Rob looked despondent. “They were ahead at the end of May. I should have known they couldn’t hold it. Oh, well. That’s baseball. When I was a kid, my mom loved that Yogi Berra quote: ‘This is like deja vu all over again.’”

Lelia looked up. “Funny you should mention your mom. Today I saw someone who looked so much like a picture of your mom when she was young. A redhead in a yellow convertible.”

If I’d ever felt like the stereotype of a ghost with hair standing on end, this was the moment. I held my breath.

“This redhead was really young and pretty. It made me smile to see her.” Lelia’s tone made clear that she had no inkling the woman she’d seen was me. I relaxed. After all, I certainly hadn’t been twenty-seven when the Serendipity went down in the Gulf.

Rob grinned. “A redhead in a yellow convertible is Mom’s kind of woman.” He glanced toward a studio portrait of Bobby Mac and me. The affection in his eyes brought tears to mine.

Cars were picking up kids from the rectory of St. Mildred’s. Dear redheaded Bayroo, my grandniece, stood on the back steps, waving good night to friends. Her dad, Father Bill, dropped paper plates into a trash sack. Her mom, Kathleen, swiped the top of the picnic table. “Mom, that was the best watermelon yet this summer.”

At the Pritchard house, a little boy slept with one arm around the neck of a plush bear. Downstairs a young couple on a rose-colored sofa held hands. Peg looked at Johnny. “Saturday.”

“You’ll be the most beautiful bride in the world.”

She moved nearer, lifted her face to his.

I felt joyful as I returned to The Castle. My children were fine and those whose lives I’d touched in previous visits were well and happy.

The front hallway light was on but the house was utterly silent. The Castle walls were old and thick.

In the white bedroom, I appeared and chose a pale blue nightie. I glanced approvingly in the mirror. The bedroom was an excellent background for coppery red hair and the nightgown. I propped two puffy pillows behind me, sank into softness. The pillows were almost as comfortable as floating on a cloud. You object to the concept of support from a cloud? Clouds, you point out, are simply particles of mist. But in Heaven…Oh, of course. Yours to wonder about, mine not to tell.

I turned off the bedside lamp. Hopefully, tomorrow Ronald would lead me to a killer.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Evelyn and Jimmy were in the dining room when Kay and I arrived. She looked up as we