“Lionel. We had a deadline. You were gone. We had no idea when or even if you’d be back. We had to do something. Would you rather we miss the deadline and ruin any chances of getting this book published?” Natalie specifically did not mention they’d actually had two more days to submit. Hopefully ghosts had no concept of time or dates.
He scowled. “I suppose not.”
“We did the best we could.”
“Yes. I realize that. The work you did honestly wasn’t as bad as I feared. I suppose that woman has some knowledge of the written word and the business of publishing.”
It might be one of the least complimentary compliments Natalie had ever heard, but it still made her smile. From Lionel this was like a five-star review.
“I’m glad we could help. And I promise when the edits come back you can work on those all by yourself if you want. With my help, I guess. Since you can’t type.” And wasn’t that going to be fun…
“Yes. That is true. And I’m not completely without gratitude for your assistance in all this. Your name will have to be mentioned somewhere since you are the one in contact with the publisher as my partner they will expect it. Inside, of course. Not on the cover. Maybe in the acknowledgments in the back. Yes. I think that will do nicely.”
“Thanks,” she said flatly.
“But not hers,” Lionel declared. “A romance writer’s name in my book is not something I could abide.”
“Understood. I don’t think Harper expected her name to be anywhere. She was just happy to help me.”
“Good. At least she’s not completely delusional.” Lionel clapped his age-spotted hands together once. It was like a gavel strike closing that bit of business for good. “Now, on to the next project.”
“The article about Mudville?” she suggested hopefully. “The LADS have compiled tons of research for you from both the documents we discovered and interviews with the old ghosts. Gabe and Millie have been helping, acting as a go-between with the other livings since I’ve been busy with the book.”
Natalie was both proud and impressed with how they all, both the living and dead, had rallied around this project. All to correct the history of the Mudd family and Mudville.
“Oh, no. That can wait. I’m talking about my murder case. What has that boyfriend of yours heard from the coroner’s office? I remained close by and listened closely for information the entire time I was there, but to no avail. It was most unpleasant, I can tell you. Witnessing the indignities they performed not only on me, but to all of the… test subjects. But all my efforts yielded next to nothing.”
“So yeah. About that. Liam just got the report emailed to him.”
“And? Come, Miss Chase. Don’t leave me in suspense. Was I murdered, as I surmised, or not?”
“The coroner deemed it a heart attack. I’m sorry, Lionel, but your death was from natural causes. Case closed.”
“Outrageous.” Lionel sounded angry, but she could see from the slope of his shoulders, the drop of his chin as he let out a breath, he was visibly defeated.
“But hey, now we can throw ourselves into your next research project. You love research and writing. And you’ll be the first and the only historian who has access to all those old documents we found. Your article will be like breaking news. Won’t that be fun?” she asked hoping to raise his spirits.
“No, Miss Chase. It will not be fun.”
With that, he shuffled, head down, shoulders slumped, through the back door. To where, she didn’t know. But Natalie did know this didn’t bode well for the future of the Mudville article.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Natalie’s alarm went off, startling her out of what had been, she realized, a really good sleep. But even better than the fact she’s slept well last night was that she didn’t have to get up and go immediately to work on Lionel’s book.
The relief that the book was done and gone off to the printer gave her a surge of happiness again. So did the knowledge she had a solid hour to enjoy a morning cup of coffee before she had to unlock the shop door.
She stretched, inadvertently letting out a little sound of contentment. Now she knew how Mr. Darcy felt. She’d seen the cat do the same when he awoke from a good nap in the sun on the sill of the shop’s front window.
Next to her, Liam pulled her closer with one strong arm. “Mmm. You sound happy.”
“I am, now that we emailed that damn book off.” Reality began to creep in again, as it always did when the remnants of sleep dissipated. “But now I have to convince Lionel to start on the Mudville article. The mood he was in yesterday, that’s not going to be so easy.”
“He’ll get over it,” Liam grumbled.
“I don’t know. He looked…depressed, I guess, when I told him he hadn’t been murdered.”
Liam let out a snort. “He might be the only person alive—or dead—unhappy they hadn’t been murdered.”
