Secrets of the Specter

I pushed a shopping cart as I trailed behind, trusting her to throw everything I needed into it.

“Do we need to be careful not to spend too much?” she asked, turning back to me as she pointed toward a tall, carpeted cat tree.

Sweet of her to ask. “No, it’s okay. Get me everything I need to keep this girl happy for as long as she’ll have me.”

She nodded, then summoned super-human strength to lift the biggest box in the store into my cart. After that, she grabbed as second cart and started throwing toys, treats, food, and a giant tub of quick-clump litter into the cart. “This should do it, for now,” she said five minutes and perhaps five-hundred dollars later.

She held Ms. Cat in one hand as she rang me up with the other. I’d never known a feline to be so docile, though admittedly I knew very little about animals. If I was going to keep this girl, I’d better get to learning.

While Emily worked the till, I placed a quick call to Kim back at the shop to let her know I wouldn’t be returning that day.

“So you’re keeping the cat,” she said with an amused snort.

I gave her a few quick details, then promised to catch her up during our next shared shift and returned my full attention to Emily, who was all too happy to tell me everything she knew about the feline species.

After paying the total, which wasn’t nearly as expensive as I’d expected, Ms. Cat and I loaded up and headed back to my house. Make that our house. Still, I didn’t want to get too attached, in case a missing owner turned up to reclaim her.

I could at least enjoy her while I had her, though. So I spent the evening engrossed in making sure the litter box area was perfectly set up so as not to track litter all over my house. Then I arranged Ms. Cat’s food and water bowls just so. Who knew I’d turn into such an obsessive-compulsive cat person?

Once we were done, we snuggled together and caught up on my Netflix queue while I sipped cocoa and she dined on mixed grill pate. Yum, yum.

And then it was time for bed. For the first time that day, I stopped and considered the ramifications of adopting this cat. The last time she had slept at the foot of my bed, the eighteenth-century version of Maggie McAllister had materialized with that irksome letter in hand.

But it would take a really mean person to lock kitty out of the room on her first night home, and I just didn’t have the heart. Especially since Ms. Cat had already curled up in my balled-up throw blanket and was purring softly as she waited for me.

I snuggled in and hoped for the best.

Thankfully, the best is what I got. Another undisturbed night of angel sleep, right up until the time when my three alarms rousted me from my slumber.

I snuck in some more kitty cuddles before getting ready for my shift at the family shop. Right before leaving, I decided to have a quick talk with my new roommate. “Okay, my little friend. You’ve got food, water, and clean litter. There are toys placed here and there, and all over the house. You should be perfectly content for the day while I’m at the shop. Right?

Ms. Cat looked up at me with her sweet, heterochromatic eyes and said, “Meow.”

“I’m going to take that to mean you’re good to go.” I chuckled and gave her one last cuddle before heading out.

Everything was great until I snuck around back to check the store’s email inbox and happened upon the old letter tucked beneath the keyboard.

With all the excitement of moving Ms. Cat in, I’d nearly forgotten about the darned thing.

With a sigh, I lifted it to my face and studied the seal once more. What was it about this particular blob of wax that got me so bothered? It was old, and it had an H on it. In the scheme of things, that told me a big, fat nothing. So why was it bothering me so much?

“Hello?”

I whirled around to find two customers staring at me like I’d grown a third eye or something. “Hello, I’m sorry. I’m feeling distracted today. How can I help you?”

It turned out they were video lovers, so I did a short demonstration and let them have one of the candles I kept just for situations like this. Irregulars or others that were slightly off—usually because someone other than me had made them. Regardless, members of my wax nation were always thrilled to go home with a free candle. The increased engagement and favorable reviews made it so that even Aunt Linda couldn’t argue with the results.

Once the customers cleared out, I fell back into my usual routine of organizing, pricing, and checking stock as I mulled over that stupid seal in my mind. By now I had its appearance memorized, which meant it haunted me that much more.

What was it about that thing?

It was like having a word on the tip of my tongue that wouldn’t reveal itself. So frustrating. I was just about ready to tear my hair out.

The next thing I knew, the ghost of Maggie McAllister appeared in front of me, right there in my empty shop. I squawked and jumped back, dropping the candles I’d been arranging for a new display in the position of honor by the front door. One of the jarred ones slipped to the floor with a resounding crash as glass flew in all directions.

“What are you doing?” I cried, shaking despite my earlier resolve to keep my calm if ever we happened upon each other again. “Why are you here?”

I bent down and began collecting the larger shards of glass from the broken candle. When I looked back to Maggie, she raised one hand and pointed across the room.

I blinked hard, but no. I wasn’t seeing things.

Here a ghost. There, a rolling plume of smoke.

“Scotch bonnet,” I declared as I whirled around to find the curtains beside the demonstration area ablaze. How had I not noticed that?

Owning a candle shop, we were always prepared for such an eventuality. Fires were all too possible, which was why we generally didn’t keep curtains and cloth around the storefront. But Kim had suggested this set of linen drapes, due to how often the demonstration area was videoed and tagged on social media, and I’d readily agreed.

And now I wanted to slap myself for that decision as I ran for the fire extinguisher.

By the time I grabbed it from behind the counter, the old-fashioned wallpaper had caught fire. Aunt Linda liked to brag that it was original to this shop. So much for that legacy.

“No, no, noooo,” I moaned as I sprayed the flames with the frothy foam in a panic.

Aunt Linda ran inside, sprinting past me as she made her way to the back room. She soon returned with the other, larger extinguisher. Between the two of us, we managed to quell the flash fire. Thank goodness she had arrived when she did, or I doubt I’d have been able to manage it on my own.

Completely spent and utterly destroyed, we stared at the blackened walls, taking stock of the damage. It was only then I remembered the ghost. She must have been scared off by the disaster, though, because she was nowhere to be found now.

“How?” Aunt Linda gasped.

I broke out into a string of noisy coughs, so we staggered outside to find pretty much all the block’s store owners running our way.

Wow. That had really happened.

And Ghost Maggie had saved my life to boot.

Gulping in deep breaths of clean air, I glanced around at my friends as sirens blared to life in the distance.

Yup. Here came the fire department.

CHAPTER NINE

I kept craning my neck and gawking inside to make sure the blaze was well and truly tamped out. Of course, by now, even the smoke had started to clear away.

Moments later, a gargantuan fire truck screeched to a halt in front of the store, and men fully decked out in their heavy gear jumped down, ready to tackle anything.

“It’s out,” Aunt Linda called. “We managed to take care of it with a couple of fire extinguishers.”

I waved at them sheepishly. “I’m sorry to take away your fun.” In a town the size of Larkhaven, most of the firefighters worked on a volunteer basis—and thus, rarely saw any real action.

A rather stern-looking man with a wrinkled brow and thick handlebar mustache marched over while holding his special work hat under his arm. “We have to check the premises when there’s a call like this.”

“We understand,” I said with a nod.

“I’m Chief Oswald,” he said with a half-cocked grin to Aunt Linda. “Would you like to tell me what happened?” he asked.

For all his charm, she wasn’t having any of his smiles, though. She turned toward me with a grimace. “You were the one who was there when it started. Go ahead,” she prompted.

I craned my neck to glance through the shop window once again—still no new flames. As to what to tell the fire chief, I had no earthly idea. I hadn’t seen the disaster until the ghost had pointed it out to me. I didn’t know how it had started.

I swallowed down a fresh lump of anxiety. “Well, I did a candle dipping demonstration for a few customers earlier. That’s when I was near the curtain that caught fire.”

“A curtain in a candle store?” Oswald asked flatly, clearly not as impressed with me as he was with Aunt Linda. “Seems like a bad idea.”

Aunt Linda arched one eyebrow at me but didn’t comment.

“I know,” I said. “It looked pretty so I was just trying it out as a backdrop for my videos. Anyway, I don’t remember leaving a candle burning. I honestly don’t even remember lighting one, though I have been a little in my head today.” That stupid seal. I hoped it hadn’t burned up along with the new curtains and antique wallpaper.

I sucked in a deep breath before continuing. “Anyway, the curtain was suddenly on fire. I grabbed the extinguisher, but by then it spread to the wall, too. Aunt Linda came in and helped me put it out with our other extinguisher.”

“Yes, I was just dropping by to bring Mags some paperwork,” my aunt finally spoke up. “And she was trying to put out the flames when I ran in.”

“Was anyone else here?” the fire chief asked.

I shook my head. “No, the customers had all gone.”

A fireman with bright orange hair walked out from our shop. I hadn’t even seen him go in.

His name was Ethan. I’d gone to high school with his younger brother. Pretty much everyone who had lived in Larkhaven for more than five minutes was either a former classmate, related to a former classmate, or someone I knew from attending community functions.

“All out,” Ethan informed his boss. “Back door was unlocked and ajar, too.”

I cocked my head at him. “Are you sure?” He’d been a total burnout in school—or so the rumors had said. Seemed fitting for him being a fireman now.

He pursed his lips at me. “C’mon, McAllister. Would I make something like that up?”

“No.” I sighed; my shoulders heaved with the weight of the day. “I guess not. Why would my back door be open, though? We never use it. Heck, I’m not totally sure I even know where the key for it is.”

“In the cash register,” Aunt Linda said. “That’s where we’ve always kept it.”

I shook my head again, looking at Ethan in complete bewilderment. “Let me look. Can I go in?”

He nodded his head toward Chief Oswald, who walked me toward the building. “Let’s go see.”

The damage could have been much, much worse, but still it hurt to see the shop like this. All the candles that had been on the shelves near the demonstration area looked rough, at least half melted. The shelves themselves were blackened and would have to be replaced.

I moaned. “Even the ceiling is ruined.” It meant we’d have to be closed for goodness knows how long.

Oswald nodded. “They’ll fix it. I assume you were insured?”

Aunt Linda gave him an affronted look. “Of course we’re insured. We’re not amateurs.”

I, for one, felt like one, after having a fire in a candle shop. What a rookie mistake.

Turning around in a slow circle, I took full stock of what we were dealing with here. Aunt Linda and I had managed to get the fire out without the big hoses, and that had probably saved a lot of our product. Of course, everything would need a good wiping down. The interior of the shop reeked of smoke, something only a good cleaning and a lick of fresh paint would fix.

Aunt Linda walked over to me as I stared dejectedly at the dipping station. The whole thing, which had been built by my parents when I was a younger, would need to be replaced. But it wouldn't ever be the same. They’d built it right before they died in a car crash. I’d been raised by Aunt Linda after that.

“The key is still in the register,” she said. “Maybe someone came in the front and out the back when you weren’t looking.

I shrugged, dejected. Seeing as I’d allowed the place catch on fire, who knew what other ways I might’ve messed up today? Allowing a customer to sneak through the store sounded par for the course.

Chief Oswald handed us a piece of paper a little while later. “We have to do an official investigation, which will take some time. We must be thorough. We can lock up when we’re done if you’d like to leave. I know you’re probably spent after having to deal with all this already.”

“Go on, honey,” Linda said. “I’ll take the money to the bank then stick around here a while.”

Nodding dumbly, I went behind the counter and got my purse, remembering to grab the letter and envelope at the last second. I was so relieved that both had managed to escape unscathed.

“Thank you,” I whispered, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. When Maggie, Sr., didn’t appear to accept my offering of gratitude, I shuffled out of the still-unlocked back door instead of going around the front like usual. Aunt Linda, Kim, and I parked in the back but almost always walked around.

Why? I had no idea. We’d just always done it that way.

But right now, the last thing I wanted to do was answer a bunch of questions from my well-meaning friends. Lacey and Jeremy had been standing out on the sidewalk when the fire truck arrived. Until now, they’d kept their distance, but the moment I stepped onto the sidewalk alone, they would’ve rushed to console me, asking a billion questions in the process.

I just didn’t have the energy or emotional fortitude to deal with that right now.

Also, I was starving. Lunchtime had come and gone, and I’d always done horribly missing any kind of a meal.

On the way back to my house, I pulled through a locally owned drive-thru and ordered a huge Mexican platter. They hadn’t yet heard about the fire, apparently, because the owner, who took my order at the window, didn’t ask. She just smiled and thanked me, then gave me my giant bags of food.

I’d go home, binge on burritos and cheese dip, watch TV, and decompress. Then tomorrow, I’d go assess the damage, start making plans for repairs, contact the insurance company, and get the full report from the fire department.

Or maybe I’d send Aunt Linda to pick that last thing up. Give Chief Oswald the chance to do a little more flirting.

As tired and distracted as I was, I had noticed a truck driving behind me as I left Historic Row. It wasn’t one I recognized, but I wasn’t too concerned about it in the scheme of things. Especially when it had pulled into the restaurant parking lot as well. We didn’t have that many restaurants in Larkhaven. Or roads for that matter.

But when I left the drive-thru with my order buckled into the passenger seat beside me, the truck pulled back onto the main road, too. It hadn’t gone through the drive-thru, and it hadn’t had enough time to order inside.

Okay, now I was concerned.

The truck pulled out behind me and stayed close on my tail. The tint on the windows was dark enough that I couldn’t at all see who was inside.

I kept driving in the general direction of my house, but I also decided to employ an evasive strategy I’d read about in a mystery novel many years ago.

At the next stop sign, I turned right. I was on the edge of town, and the streets were pretty much laid out in a grid. So, I continued to the next stop, a red light, and turned right again. Then another right, until I ended up almost precisely where I started.

The truck was still behind me.

That confirmed it. It was following me.

I switched lanes and turned left.

The truck followed, but barely. As soon as the little bit of traffic in town cleared, I did a U-turn and headed straight for the police station.

An officer, the one from the coffee shop, was just getting out of his cruiser. I rolled my window down as I parked beside him.

“Good afternoon, Miss,” he said casually. “Can I help you with anything?”

The truck sailed on past us down the road.

“That truck was following me,” I informed him with a chill.

He looked down the road at the back of the truck, but it was too far away now to make out the license plate.

“Do you want me to go after them and question them?” he offered.

I shook my head. “No. I’ll just head on home.” I peered at his tag. “Thanks, Officer…”

“Don,” he replied. “How about I follow you home?”

Heaving a big sigh of relief, I smiled up at him. “That would be wonderful. Thank you.”

It wasn’t often I engaged the services of the police or firefighters, let alone on the very same day.

And, oh, what a day!

CHAPTER TEN

About ten minutes later, I waved farewell to Officer Don. He’d pulled into my driveway right behind me and waited patiently while I unlocked my door and eased it open. “Thanks again for the help,” I called as he backed onto the road and drove off.

More than ready to plop down on to my couch and forget this terrible day, I stepped through the door and attempted to close it behind me.

It sprung back.

“Seriously?” I growled.

Ms. Cat trotted over and offered me a sympathetic meow.

I threw my stuff down on the table near my door and attempted to pull the door shut with both hands.

It latched shut, but now the deadbolt wouldn’t turn.

What in the world? Someone had definitely tried to pry open my front door. If I’d noticed this while Officer Don was here, I would have asked him to stay.

Should I go outside and try to call him back?

What if whoever had failed to open the front door had succeeded somewhere else in the house? What if the intruder was still inside?

No, but that felt silly. And surely if someone were in the house, Ms. Cat would be acting upset. Cats freaked out when strangers came around, didn’t they?

I whirled and peered around my living room. Everything sat in perfect order, exactly as I’d left it that morning.

No. I wasn’t going to do what all the stupid people in movies did and go through my house just to get axe murdered by a psychopath when I should’ve called the cops.