Figuring the spirit wasn’t anything more than a dead end, I turned and left the shop. I didn’t have time for nonsense. Maybe next visit to the candle store, she’d be more willing to help and not as willing to throw riddles at me.
When I reached Ghost Catchers, I was shocked. A line wound out the door. It looked like a Saturday morning at the Apple store. You know Saturday morning is always the worst to go to that place. If you need anything, always hit Apple on Wednesdays. Saturday and Sunday, you’re asking to be spending all day waiting in a horrendously long line.
Yeah, I realize I’ve got major issues when a line at the Apple store bothers the bejesus out of me.
As soon as I stepped up, the crowd broke into murmurs. They turned to me en masse and started clapping. I shrank back. Anita had been right to call and bless me out. I didn’t need to be some sort of local celebrity.
I dodged and darted until I finally squeezed into the store.
Alice and Ruth sat behind a table. They had thick black markers in their hands and were signing the local newspaper. I peered closer and realized they were signing their pictures! Oh, and the ghost had been caught as well. Susan was no more than a blur, but it was still quite the news fodder.
Someone shoved a paper and marker under my nose. “Will you sign?”
A geeky kid with bucked teeth smiled widely. I really, really wanted to say buzz off, but I would’ve felt guilty for crushing his little nerdy dreams.
So I shrugged and signed. For the next half an hour that’s all I did. Finally the crowd died and I made a break for it, locking the doors.
“What happened?” I said.
Alice shrugged. “It was like a tidal wave of people. Been like that all morning. Soon as we walked in, half the town followed, wanting us to sign their papers.”
“You’re local celebrities,” I said.
“Not only that,” Ruth said, pointing to the phone. “We had seven messages waiting for us. Folks want us to come catch their ghosts.”
“Oh, well,” I said, unsure of how to respond.You didn’t really catch a ghost last nightdidn’t seem very nice. So I zipped my lips.
“What about you?” Alice said. “You need our help investigating Slick?”
My jaw dropped. “What’s this ‘we’ business?”
Ruth shook out her signing hand. “After our conversation last night I figured that’s what you stopped by for, especially since you found the whole image rights paperwork.”
I drummed my fingers on the counter. “Yeah, I need to see if he has the computer, but I haven’t figured out how.”
Alice cleaned her glasses on her floral dress. “Guess we can’t do the same trick with the ghost twice, can we? Have it appear at the funeral?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, it was pretty tasteless doing that at the viewing. Having a spirit scream and throw things at a funeral is pushing it.”
Ruth and Alice sat. Ruth whipped a tin of cookies out of nowhere and passed them around.
“No thanks, I just had a pie from Soul Food and Spirits. Fried peach. Delicious.”
“Hmm, those are good,” Ruth said. She munched on a cookie for a few minutes. Finally she spoke. “We need a way to get into his house that doesn’t involve breaking and entering.” She snapped at Alice. “Where’s everyone going after the funeral?”
Alice shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Ruth grabbed the phone and started dialing. “I’ll call Lindsay May Pope at the church. She owes me a favor.”
“What are you going to have her do?” I said.
With a twinkle in her eyes, Ruth smiled widely. “Why, I’m going to make sure that boy Slick has all the food he can get his hands on after the service. I’m going to send all the Baptist ladies to his house. We’ll go, too. That’ll be our excuse for being there. He’ll be in mourning and won’t have a clue what to do.”
Alice beamed. “Smart thinking.”
Ruth dialed up Lindsay May Somebody and got it all straightened out. Great. At six p.m., right after Xavier’s graveside service, the Baptist Women’s League would converge on Slick’s house with their best casseroles in tow. It would be perfect, exactly the distraction we needed to get inside.
I was about to leave when something occurred to me. “Is there supposed to be a spirit at the bed-and-breakfast?”
