A Ghostly Murder

Excerpt

Jump to Ordering Options ↓

Chapter 1

Ding, ding, ding.

The ornamental bell on an old cemetery headstone rang out. No one touching it. No wind or breeze.

The string attached to the top of the bell hung down the stone and disappeared into the ground. To the naked eye it would seem as though the bell dinged from natural causes, like the wind, but my eye zeroed in on the string as it slowly moved up and down. Deliberately.

I stepped back and looked at the stone. The chiseled words I TOLD YOU I WAS SICK. MAMIE SUE PRESTON were scrolled in fancy lettering. Her date of death was a few years before I took over as undertaker at Eternal Slumber Funeral Home.

Granted, it was a family business I had taken over from my parents and my granny. Some family business.

Ding, ding, ding.

I looked at the bell. A petite older woman, with a short gray bob neatly combed under a small pillbox hat, was doing her best to sit ladylike on the stone, with one leg crossed over the other. She wore a pale green skirt suit. Her fingernail tapped the bell, causing it to ding.

I couldn’t help but notice the large diamond on her finger, the strand of pearls around her neck and some more wrapped on her wrist. And with a gravestone like that . . . I knew she came from money.

“Honey child, you can see me, can’t you?” she asked. Her lips smacked together. She grinned, not a tooth in her head. There was a cane in her hand. She tapped the stone with it. “Can you believe they buried me without my teeth?”

I closed my eyes. Squeezed them tight. Opened them back up.

“Ta-­da. Still here.” She put the cane on the ground and tap-­danced around it on her own grave.

“Don’t do that. It’s bad luck.” I repeated another Southern phrase I had heard all my life.

She did another little giddy-­up.

“I’m serious,” I said in a flat, inflectionless voice. “Never dance or walk over someone’s grave. It’s bad luck.”

“Honey, my luck couldn’t get any worse than it already is.” Her face was drawn. Her onyx eyes set. Her jaw tensed. “Thank Gawd you are here. There is no way I can cross over without my teeth.” She smacked her lips. “Oh, by the way, Digger Spears just sent me, and I passed Cephus Hardy on the way. He told me exactly where I could find you.”

She leaned up against the stone.

“Let me introduce myself.” She stuck the cane in the crook of her elbow and adjusted the pillbox hat on her head. “I’m the wealthiest woman in Sleepy Hollow, Mamie Sue Preston, and I can pay you whatever you’d like to get me to the other side. But first, can you find my teeth?”

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. This couldn’t be happening. Couldn’t I have just a few days off between my Betweener clients?

I knew exactly what she meant when she said she needed my help for her cross over, and it wasn’t because she was missing her dentures.

“Whatdaya say?” Mamie Sue pulled some cash out of her suit pocket.

She licked her finger and peeled each bill back one at a time.

“Emma Lee,” I heard someone call. I turned to see Granny waving a handkerchief in the air and bolting across the cemetery toward me.

Her flaming-­red hair darted about like a cardinal as she weaved in and out of the gravestones.

“See,” I muttered under my breath and made sure my lips didn’t move. “Granny knows not to step on a grave.”

“That’s about the only thing Zula Fae Raines Payne knows,” Mamie said.

My head whipped around. Mamie’s words got my attention. Amusement lurked in her dark eyes.

“Everyone is wondering what you are doing clear over here when you are overseeing Cephus Hardy’s funeral way over there.” Granny took a swig of the can of Stroh’s she was holding.

Though our small town of Sleepy Hollow, Kentucky, was a dry county—­which meant liquor sales were against the law—­ I had gotten special permission to have a beer toast at Cephus Hardy’s funeral.

I glanced back at the final resting place where everyone from Cephus’s funeral was still sitting under the burial awning, sipping on the beer.

“I was just looking at this old stone,” I lied.

Mamie’s lips pursed suspiciously when she looked at Granny. Next thing I knew, Mamie was sitting on her stone, legs crossed, tapping the bell.

Ding, ding, ding. “We have a goner who needs help!” Mamie continued to ding the bell. “A goner who is as dead as yesterday.” She twirled her cane around her finger.

I did my best to ignore her. If Granny knew I was able to see the ghosts of dead ­people—­not just any dead ­people, murdered dead ­people—­she’d have me committed for what Doc Clyde called the Funeral Trauma.

A few months ago and a ­couple ghosts ago, I was knocked out cold from a big plastic Santa that Artie, from Artie’s Meat and Deli, had stuck on the roof of his shop during the winter months. It just so happened I was walking on the sidewalk when the sun melted the snow away, sending the big fella off the roof right on top of me. I woke up in the hospital and saw that my visitor was one of my clients—­one of my dead clients. I thought I was a goner just like him, because my Eternal Slumber clients weren’t alive, they were dead, and here was one standing next to me.

When the harsh realization came to me that I wasn’t dead and I was able to see dead ­people, I told Doc Clyde about it. He gave me some little pills and diagnosed me with the Funeral Trauma, a.k.a. a case of the crazies.

He was nice enough to say he thought I had been around dead bodies too long since I had grown up in the funeral home with Granny and my parents.

My parents took early retirement and moved to Florida, while my granny also retired, leaving me and my sister, Charlotte Rae, in charge.

“Well?” Granny tapped her toe and crossed her arms. “Are you coming back to finish the funeral or not?” She gave me the stink-­eye, along with a once-­over, before she slung back the can and finished off the beer. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m feeling great, Zula Fae Raines Payne.” Mamie Sue leaned her cane up against her stone. She jumped down and clasped her hands in front of her. She stretched them over her head. She jostled her head side to side. “Much better now that I can move about, thanks to Emma Lee.”

Ahem, I cleared my throat.

“Yes.” I smiled and passed Granny on the way back over to Cephus Hardy’s funeral. “I’m on my way.”

“Wait!” Mamie called out. “I was murdered! Aren’t you going to help me? Everyone said that you were the one to help me!”

Everyone? I groaned and glanced back.

Mamie Sue Preston planted her hands on her small hips. Her eyes narrowed. Her bubbly personality had dimmed. She’d been dead a long time. She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and neither was I.

 

Chapter 2

What was going on with you at the cemetery this morning?” Charlotte Rae asked once she pushed open my office door. She leaned on the door frame and tapped the toe of her fancy black high-­heeled shoe.

Her long red hair cascaded down the front of her shoulders. Her green eyes bored into me. She drummed her fingers together, tapping her perfectly manicured pink fingernails together. She wore a pair of black slacks, a white blouse and hot pink jewelry to finish off the look.

“Nothing was going on with me,” I responded and took my hands out of the filing cabinet. I pushed the drawer back.

There was only one person who knew about my gift as a Betweener. Sheriff Jack Henry Ross, my boyfriend and Sleepy Hollow’s head law enforcer.

I closed the filing cabinet where we kept the files of our clients who were already six feet under.

There wasn’t a file anywhere on Mamie Sue Preston. When I had gotten home from sticking Cephus in the ground, I had scoured the funeral-­home files in the attic, in the basement, and in my office. There hadn’t been any sign of her on paper or in ghost form. She hadn’t shown up since I’d seen her near her grave.

“Why are you in the past client files?” Charlotte Rae asked. She walked into my office. Her eyes slid over to the old filing cabinet.

“And it’s your business?” I asked.

“We are partners.” She reminded me how convenient that word was when she needed it to be.

“You stick with selling the packages and creating new business while I stick with the dead.” I grabbed my phone off the desk.

Charlotte Rae and I had one thing in common—­our last name. In fact, Charlotte was reluctant to go to mortuary school, while I had been chomping at the bit to get there. When we took over Eternal Slumber after Granny retired, Charlotte made it clear she was in charge of the day-­to-­day office duties. She met with families, did the interior decorating—­you know, the clean, don’t-­get-­your-­hands-­dirty stuff. The rest was left up to me.

I didn’t mind picking up the bodies and making sure the funeral arrangements were in place, everything went smoothly during the ser­vice, the gravesite was prepared for burial, the cemetery stone was ordered—­the list went on and on.

“Now where are you going?” she asked in a cross tone.

“Do you need me for something?” I asked. The information I needed was not in the cabinet, it was in Granny’s head.

“I wanted to make sure you were ready for Junior’s funeral.”

“Have I ever not been ready?” I asked. There was some reason she was keeping tabs on me, and I wasn’t sure what it was.

Charlotte Rae never came into my office. And she never asked where I was going, nor had she ever cared.

“Maybe we can walk down to Higher Grounds Café.” She faked a yawn. “I could use an afternoon cup of pick-­me-­up.”

“Nah.” I shooed her off and cha-­chaed past her, almost knocking into John Howard Lloyd. “Hey, John Howard.”

“Afternoon, Emma Lee. Umm . . .” He stalled and looked between me and Charlotte Rae. “Can I have a word with you, ma’am?”

“Sure.” I checked the time on my phone. I wanted to get over to Sleepy Hollow Inn to get some answers about Mamie Sue Preston before the Inn guests got restless and wanted dinner.

“Miss Charlotte.” John Howard nodded his unruly head of hair and walked past her before she scampered away.

“Thank you,” I said for making Charlotte Rae scurry away. She wasn’t good with working with the salt-­of-­the-­earth employees at Eternal Slumber.

“For what, ma’am?” John Howard tucked his dirt-­stained fingers in the bib of his overalls.

“Nothing.” I gestured for him to sit down in one of the chairs in front of my desk.

“How can I help you?” I asked.

“Well . . .” he stalled. “I hate to ask, but—­”

“I know, I know,” I interrupted. I ran my hands down my dull brown hair and tucked a strand behind my ear. “You do deserve a raise. I know it’s hard to be the only employee who digs the graves. Plus you do all the landscaping, which looks great.”

I ripped a piece of paper out of the notebook and grabbed a pen. I scribbled a number on the paper.

“How about this?” I pushed the paper to the edge of the desk.

He eased up on the chair and took a look.

“That’s mighty nice of you, Emma Lee.” He folded his hands and sat back. “But O’Dell and Bea Allen Burns—­”

“Are you telling me that Burns Funeral is already trying to steal you away from me?” I swear smoke was coming out of my ears.

John Howard Lloyd had come to town years ago, needing a job. Granny had given him one with no questions asked. Luckily, he stayed on when Charlotte Rae and I took over. He was the gravedigger and groundskeeper of the funeral home. I’d had no idea that my competitor, Burns Funeral, was trying to steal him away from me.

“Isn’t it enough O’Dell just beat Granny in the mayoral election?” I spat. “Since his sister came back to town and started running the funeral home, I’ll bet she’s after all my employees.”

I made a quick mental note to check on the status of all the staff at Eternal Slumber and make sure they were happy with their jobs. Bea Allen Burns hadn’t lived in Sleepy Hollow for years. Now that her brother, O’Dell, was the newly elected mayor, she’d decided to stay and run the funeral home while he ran the city.

“Those Burns are not going to take over all of Sleepy Hollow.” I grabbed the paper, scribbled out the number and wrote a larger number. “This is it. I can’t offer any more money.”

I walked around and handed John Howard the piece of paper.

“Golly, Emma Lee.” His eyes grew, and he gulped. “I wasn’t expecting this. Thank you.”

“Good. That’s settled.” I walked toward the door. “I have to get going. I’ve got to go see Granny at the Inn.”

“But Emma Lee.” John Howard stopped me again. “This is a nice raise and I appreciate it, but that’s not what I came in here for.”

“It’s not?” I was a little confused.

“No, ma’am.” He slipped the piece of paper in the front pocket of his overalls. “I was just wanting to know if you’d be interested in sponsoring me and a few fellows for the new men’s softball league they got going over at the old Softball Junction field.”

“Sponsor?” I asked.

“Well, Burns Funeral is going to sponsor a team, and Artie’s Meat and Deli is going to sponsor some fellas. And the raise is much appreciated.” He nodded his head. “But we need someone to sponsor us and provide us with things like shirts and stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” I questioned. How was I going to tell Charlotte Rae about the raise—­big money—­I just spent on keeping John Howard, when he wasn’t even planning on leaving?

“Oh goodie!” Mamie Sue appeared. She twirled around with her hands clasped in front of her and smiled. Having no teeth didn’t seem to bother her at all. “I loved going to those games! Did you say Softball Junction?”

I had to ignore her so John Howard wouldn’t think I was crazy.

“Like gloves, shoes, shirts, balls and fees.” He shrugged. “That sort of stuff.”

“And Burns is going to have a team?” I asked.

“Take me out to the ball game, take me out with the crowd,” Mamie Sue sang off-­key as loud as she could. She swayed her cane in the air. “Mmm . . .” She licked her lips. “I love peanuts and Cracker Jacks. Especially those little toys that come in the box. Take me out to the ball game,” she sang as loud as she could, placing her hand over her heart. Her pillbox hat shifted slightly to the side. She quickly pushed it back in place.

“Yes, ma’am,” he confirmed.

“Okay!” I screamed over Mamie Sue. “Eternal Slumber will sponsor the team. And I’m going to see if Jack Henry wants to play!”

John Howard’s eye squinted. He put his finger in his ear and wiggled it.

I had a plan.

“If Burns thinks they are going to beat us on the softball field, they have another thing coming to them!”

Jack Henry had played high school baseball and was pretty good at it. He would be Eternal Slumber’s secret weapon against Burns Funeral.

“What is all this screaming about?” Charlotte stormed down the hall and looked into my office.

“Play ball!” Mamie yelled. She swung her cane and pretended to hit an imaginary ball. “Home run!”

I busted in a hysterical fit of laughter.

Both Charlotte Rae and John Howard were staring at me with a slight, watchful hesitation.

“Was I yelling?” I asked in a hushed voice. I got myself together and walked over to the door. “I was checking out the acoustics in here. It’s for Junior’s funeral tonight. Sometimes it can get loud in here with so many ­people, and I think we are going to have a big crowd tonight.”

Junior Mullins had been the oldest citizen of Sleepy Hollow. He had spent the last part of his life in the nursing home. I was positive the town was going to send him off in style.

“Oh.” Charlotte Rae’s eyes narrowed before she spun around on the balls of her feet and darted off down the hall.

“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 more 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 Granny 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.”

A little cackle filled the empty space around me. I knew it was Mamie Sue hiding out somewhere and watching the show.

Granny looked around the floor.

“I swear I felt something around my ankles.” Granny’s brow narrowed, then she went about her business.

“Take that, you old bat!” Mamie’s voice called out.

“What were you saying about mortuary school and history?” I wasn’t going to give any attention to Mamie’s bad behavior. “They did go over some history, but what good is history in today’s burials?”

Charlotte Rae and I both had to go to school to be undertakers. Charlotte Rae was at the top of the class, as usual, whereas I was in the middle. Regardless, we both graduated, and here we were today.

“Just like Mamie’s stone. There are plenty of them out there with bells on them.” Granny pretended to ring a bell in the air. “In the old days, way old days, sometimes ­people were buried alive.”

My face contorted.

“They didn’t have all the fancy equipment to hear faint heartbeats, so if it wasn’t strong, they declared the sick dead.” She stuck her tongue out, faking a dead person. Which was in no way how a corpse really looked. “After hearing scratching coming from graves and realizing they were burying ­people alive, they came up with the bell. The string hung down in the coffin and out to the stone, so if you were buried alive and woke up, you could pull the string. The bell would ding, and they would dig you back up.”

“That’s terrible.”

“How do you think all those ­people who were buried alive felt?” Granny asked a good question. She walked back over to the table and took a drink.

“And Mamie Sue?” It wasn’t like she had died in the time Granny was referring to.

“She was a hypochondriac.” Granny sprayed out the tea that was left in her mouth as she laughed out loud. She put her hand over her mouth to stop the stream. “I’m so sorry. But every time I think about how nuts Mamie Sue Preston was, I get tickled.”

“I am not nuts!” Mamie appeared. Her face was red, and her hat was sideways. She disappeared again.

“I’m sure she wasn’t crazy.” I tried to make both of them happy. I had to find some sort of happy medium.

“She thought she had every single disease.” Granny nodded. “When AIDS came out in the eighties, she swore she had it. She came to the Auxiliary telling everyone she just knew she had it. Thank God she didn’t pass the crazies down. Old Spinster.”

“Wait.” My mind froze. “She was never married?”

“Married? Virgin ’til the day she died. No siblings. No family. Just her.” Granny’s words twirled around in my head. “Rich old spinster. Richest woman in Sleepy Hollow, still to this day.”

The door of the kitchen swung open. My heart sank to the tips of my toes.

“Ladies.” Sheriff Jack Henry Ross stood in the door with his police hat tucked under the pit of his arm.

Our eyes met. His smile widened, exposing his beautiful white teeth. His brown eyes sent chills down my body, making me tingle in places that shouldn’t.

“What do we owe the pleasure?” Granny quickly got up and poured my boyfriend a glass of tea.

“I wish I could say it was a social call.” He bent over and kissed the top of my head.

I gulped. Had he gotten some information about Mamie Sue Preston before I had told him that she had gotten to me?

I looked up at him. He looked at me. His eyes narrowed as though he was reading my mind. His face softened. He knew something was going on with the Betweener gig. He could read me like a book. He rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly.

“I’m here about a pie and a platter, which is a family heirloom.” His eyes slid over to Granny, who had just taken her pie out of the oven. “I got a call from Bea Allen. Someone stole a pie from the kitchen windowsill over at Burns’s Funeral residence. It was for Junior’s funeral. It’s the platter she wants back.”

“How terrible,” Granny gasped, trying to be all innocent. “Thank goodness I have a pie to take to the funeral.”

“What type of pie did you say you had?” Jack Henry asked.

I tried to contain my laughter as he and Granny did a little dance back and forth. Jack Henry would shift to the right to get a peek over Granny’s shoulder at the pie on the cooling rack behind her, causing her to shift with him to block the view. He switched to the left, and so did Granny.

“A pie.” Granny folded her arms. She wasn’t going to admit to anything. Especially if she stole the pie.

“I think Emma Lee keeps pretty good records on who is bringing what dish to the repast.” Jack Henry looked over at me for confirmation. I put my attention elsewhere.

Was Jack Henry really trying to get me to side with him against Granny? Was he crazy?

“I can probably get a warrant for those notes if Emma Lee isn’t willing to give them up,” Jack Henry warned.

“Are you joking me?” I asked.

I couldn’t believe he was really taking it to a warrant level. “My hard-­earned tax dollars are paying you to investigate a pie?”

Granny clapped her hands and agreed. “Yep. That’s right!” She nodded. “Did you say open windowsill? Anything could’ve gotten her apple pie. A deer. A bird. A possum.”

“I didn’t say apple pie.” A sneaky smile crossed Jack Henry’s lips. He knew he had outsmarted Granny. “How did you know it was an apple pie?”

“Jack Henry Ross, when you are as old as I am, you will have gone to as many funerals as me, so you will know ­people bring the exact same thing each time.” Granny was spitting mad. “Emma Lee, fetch me that pot holder.”

Granny pointed to the one clear across the room on the counter.

“There’s one . . .” I pointed to the one right next to her hand.

“That one.” Her face was steady and serious.

“Yes, ma’am.” I got up from the table and walked over to get the pot holder. Granny didn’t move. She didn’t want to let Jack Henry get a look at the perfect apple pie she had just taken out of the oven.

“Heaven to Betsy, y’all get on out of here so I can finish cooking for all of these folks.” She shooed us out of the kitchen, putting Jack Henry in a stutter.

“And I just let Zula Fae stop my official police business.” He stood outside the kitchen door with a surprised look on his face.

“That’s Granny for you.” I wrapped my arms around him, curled up on my toes and gave him a good, long, overdue kiss.

Overdue to shut him up.

“Emma Lee, your granny can’t go around stealing other ­people’s pies and platters.” Jack Henry pulled away.

“You look so cute when you try to pull that cop act.” I ran my finger along his strong chin. “Did you forget to shave?”

It was way too early in the day for his facial hair to be sporting a five o’clock shadow.

“I didn’t have time to shave because Bea Allen Burns called dispatch, raising all sorts of hell about a robbery. I jumped out of bed and got over there as fast as I could.” He pointed to the kitchen. “I know it was just a pie and platter, but it is still considered theft.”

“I don’t know if she took it or not,” I said, even though I had a pretty good hunch she did. “But I’ll look into it. And why would you think Granny did it? Did Bea Allen accuse her?”

“No, Bea Allen was beside herself. She said she put the pie up there at six a.m. and went to get a shower. When she came back out to see if it had cooled down, it was gone.” He pulled out his phone and tapped around on it. He held it out for me to see a picture he had taken. “Here is a picture of the crime scene.”

“Are you kidding me? Crime scene?” All I could see was the back of Burns Funeral where the residence was located. The window was open, and there was a bush underneath it.

“Look at the bush. Do you see anything?” he asked.

I squinted and shook my head. He used his fingers to enlarge the photo.

“Right there.” He pointed to the dirt next to the bush.

There was some sort of tracks. Too small for a car, too big for a bicycle, but perfect for a moped.

“You and I both know only one person in this town with a moped.” His lips thinned. “Tell me that this isn’t the work of Zula Fae.”

“I will look into it,” I said and gave him another kiss.

“Ummhmm,” he mumbled, knowing good and well there was no way I was going to turn Granny in. “And I can tell by the way you were acting in there that something else is on your mind.”

“Nope, nothing is on my mind. Just getting Junior in the ground without a hitch.” I brushed off the idea of how he knew I just so happened to be seeing another ghost.

“Nothing. Not even a hint of—­”

“Jack Henry Ross, aren’t you looking might official,” Hettie Bell interrupted at just the right time.

“I’m here on official police business.” Jack Henry rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Official?” She seemed amused at how serious Jack Henry was acting.

“I’ve got to run and make sure the ser­vice is still going to run smoothly.” I kissed Jack Henry one last time and made a beeline for the door. I mouthed, “Thank you, Hettie Bell.”

With a few “good mornin’s” I made it out of the Inn and onto the porch, where the rockers were all still occupied. This time, all their bellies were full from Granny’s good cooking. I smiled at the group that had gathered. There was nothing like a porch to bring ­people together. That’s the way it was in Sleepy Hollow, and that’s what I loved about being from my small town.

I skipped down the front steps and took a sharp right around the Inn. Granny kept her moped chained up to the tree on the side, and I wanted to get a look at the tires.

The tires were spic-­and-­span clean. If Granny had gone to Burns, wouldn’t there be mud or dirt on the tires?

A sudden movement from the window on the side of the Inn caught my attention. Granny was leaning over the counter and looking at me out the window. My mouth dropped. There was a joyful sparkle in her eye.

Right underneath the window was the big plastic garbage can. I marched over and pulled up the lid. Sitting on a nice china platter was a delicious-­looking, perfectly browned apple pie with lattice crust.

A shadow drew overtop me. I looked back up, and Granny’s face was planted up against the window. Slowly I shook my head and pulled the lid closed.

I had grossly underestimated my granny.

“Take care of this,” I mouthed and pointed to the trashcan before I tiptoed back around and across the square back to the funeral home.

end of excerpt