CHAPTER 9
Travel trailer tip 9: Keep a fire extinguisher handy in case you know (or are) an accident-prone person.
I picked up Van from my parents’ house. Luckily, my father hadn’t caused any small disasters in the short time I’d been gone. It was only a matter of time, though, before he pulled another stunt. My mother didn’t need to ask about my date because Aunt Patsy already had given her all the details. They’d been talking while Caleb and I ate our burgers. Apparently, Patsy gave my mother a play-by-play account.
“Patsy said he’s handsome.” My mother wiggled her eyebrows as we stood chatting on the front porch. My mom’s red geraniums were in full bloom in the pots next to the steps.
My cheeks blushed.
“Aha. So he is handsome.” My mother pointed at me.
I grabbed Van’s bag. “I have to go. There’s a painting I want to finish tonight.”
“If you have another date with him, I expect more details. Maybe you can bring him around for dinner,” my mother called out as I headed for my truck.
There was no way I would bring Caleb here for dinner. Not yet anyway. Van sat beside me on the seat as I drove back to the craft fair.
“Did you have a fun time at Nana and Papaw’s house?” I asked.
Van covered his eyes with his paws as if he knew exactly what I’d asked.
“I know they’re a bit kooky, but you gotta love them, right?”
I pulled my truck up to my assigned spot at the fair. A bit of relief washed over me now that I’d returned to my trailer. I didn’t like leaving it full of paintings. I parked and gathered Van in my arms. He licked my face.
“Aw, thanks, sweetie,” I said.
I paused at the trailer’s door. The ghost could be standing there when I opened it. I mustered my courage and twisted the knob. To my relief, I saw no sign of the ghost. Maybe she’d decided not to return.
If only she’d asked, I could have warned her sooner that I was boring. There was nothing going on in this trailer other than painting. No glamorous parties or lively conversations. I released a sigh of relief and stepped into the trailer with Van. He raced over to his toys as if he was never so glad to see them.
“We weren’t gone that long,” I said as I took his stuff from the bag. “I know Nana and Papaw’s house is a bit odd, but they love you bunches.”
Just as I finished filling Van’s dish with water and placed it on the floor, he barked. I looked up, and my gaze locked on the ghost. Elizabeth had had an outfit change. Her embroidered, chartreuse-colored dress had a capacious, bell-shaped skirt. Ringlet curls hung at the sides of her face peeking out from under her large white bonnet. A crocheted shawl was draped around her shoulders.
“Oh no,” I said.
I raced over and picked up Van. She watched us as she stood by the door.
“You’re back.” I held Van to my chest.
“You didn’t think I’d stay away, did you?” she asked.
“I was kind of hoping you would,” I said.
“That’s not very nice.” She frowned.
“To be honest . . . Van is afraid of you.” Van wiggled from my arms.
“Van, no,” I yelled.
He dashed over to the ghost and sat in front of her, wagging his tail as if they were best friends.
“Hello, sweet one, you’re not afraid of me, are you?”
He rolled on his back and offered his belly for a rub.
“Van, you traitor,” I whispered. “Fine, the truth is, I’m afraid of you.”
“There’s no need to be afraid. I’m not here to harm you.”
“I don’t know why you’re here,” I said.
“Well, that makes two of us. I told you, I don’t know why I’m here.”
What could I say now? Invite her to sit for a spell? It wasn’t as if I could serve tea and scones.
“And I don’t know what this is all about.”
“You need to ask yourself why you painted my image. Where did you see me?” she asked.
“Before painting your portrait, I’d never seen you,” I said.
“If you find the reason you painted me, maybe you can find the reason why I’m here.”
I had to admit that made sense, although I had no idea how to begin to understand why I’d painted her image.
“I feel a sense of danger. Something tells me that you’re in danger.” Worry pinched between her dark eyebrows.
That wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
“What kind of danger?” I asked with wide eyes.
Van had given up on getting a belly rub and was now observing my conversation with the ghost as if he was watching a tennis match.
“I think there’s someone around here who wants to harm you,” she said.
My stomach twisted. Could it be the killer? How would this ghost know that? Was she just trying to scare me? If so, it was working.
“Who wants to harm me?” I asked.
She moved from the door over to the tiny window and peered outside. “That I do not know.”
“How do you know someone wants to hurt me?”
“That I do not know,” she said again, still looking out the window.
Oh no. She was on repeat.
“Are your words stuck?” I asked.
She turned to face me and chuckled. “No, dear. I just don’t know who wants to harm you. Before you ask why I don’t know these things, I’ll answer you. I don’t have an answer for that either.”
Van jumped up on the chair beside me and watched the ghost.
“What can I do to stay safe?” I asked.
“You said there’s a killer?” she asked.
“Yes, someone was murdered here at the craft fair. They don’t know who did it.”
“That’s terrible,” she said.
“There are a few suspicious people.”
I watched her face for a reaction.
“Who are these people?”
I fidgeted. “Actually, I went to dinner with one of them tonight.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked.
“I thought it would be a good chance to ask him questions about the murder.”
“And what did you find out?”
“Absolutely nothing.” I paced across the tiny space to straighten a still life of summer fruit I’d hung on my wall.
“Who else do you suspect?”
“There are a couple of women who were extremely mad at the murdered man. They have booths here at the fair. Plus, the woman in the booth next to mine seemed unhappy with him. There’s also someone stealing money from vendors here too.”
“Sounds like this isn’t a safe place,” she said.
“I thought it was,” I said.
A knock sounded on the door. Van barked. I picked him up to calm him down.
“Are you expecting a visitor?” Elizabeth asked.
“No,” I whispered.
My heart rate increased. I didn’t want to answer the door without knowing who was there. Not with a murderer on the loose.
“Would you like me to peek outside to see who’s there?” she asked.
“You can do that?” I asked.
“I came from a canvas. Peeking out that door will be a piece of cake after that.”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
Van’s body trembled as he growled. The ghost floated over to the door. Sometimes she floated and sometimes she walked. I wasn’t sure about the rules of ghostly life. I watched in shock as she popped her head through the door.
After a few seconds, she pulled her head back through the door. Her hair wasn’t even mussed. “A man is out there. I don’t think you should answer the door. He could be trouble.”
“What does he look like?” I asked.
“One minute, please,” she said and popped her head through the door again.
The suspense was getting to me. A few more seconds and she returned. “Well? Can you tell me now?”
“A handsome man,” she whispered, as if he would hear her.
Was it Caleb? The ghost stepped away from the door and back over to the window. I decided I would open the door. I eased the door open, as if that would prevent a killer from getting me.
Caleb wasn’t the person at my door. It was the detective. The outside light highlighted the bourbon-colored streaks in his dark hair. Like the hidden images, the color was only visible in certain circumstances. Pierce wore a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up on his strong forearms, along with tan slacks. I assumed he had ditched the matching jacket and tie that went with his suit.
“Good evening, Ms. Cabot,” said Pierce. “Did I come at a bad time?”
Surprisingly, Van wasn’t barking at him. The detective smiled at him.
“I was getting ready to paint,” I said, gesturing to the piece on the easel: the scene of the fair I’d been working on.
Yes, it was a hint I hoped he wouldn’t stay long.
“You should be nicer to him,” Elizabeth said. “He can keep you safe from the killer, no? Plus, he’s easy on the eyes. You should invite him in.”
The ghost stood closer to me now. I had no idea a ghost could be so chatty. Maybe I could have painted her without a mouth? No, that wouldn’t be my style.
“Would you care to step outside to speak with me?” he asked.
Oh no. This wasn’t looking good for me.
“Go on, talk with him.” The ghost gestured.
With Van still in my arms, I stepped out of the trailer. My legs shook and I felt it a bit hard to breathe.
“Will he let me pet him?” the detective asked, reaching toward Van.
“Only if you let him sniff your hand first. Don’t grab at him like you’re going to harm me or him.”
“He really is your little protector, isn’t he?”
“People think chihuahuas like to bite, but that’s not true. They’re just scared and protective. Once they get to know you, they’ll shower you with love. They’re spunky and entertaining too.”
Detective Meyer let Van sniff his hand, and Van allowed the detective to rub his back.
“He likes you,” I said with a smile.
“Well, the feeling is mutual.”
Okay, how bad could the detective be when clearly he liked dogs? Anyone who liked dogs was all right in my book. Plus, Van liked him too.
“What brings you by tonight, Detective?” I asked. “Has there been another robbery? Oh my gosh, has someone else been murdered?”
“No, don’t worry, nothing else has happened. And you can call me Pierce.”
First-name basis? Did he do that with everyone he thought was a murderer? Maybe he wanted to befriend me to get me to confess. I had already told him everything I remembered.
“As you know, I’m investigating the murder,” he said.
Yes, I was well aware.
“I answered all your questions,” I said.
“It was brought to my attention that you were with Mr. Ward tonight.”
The words smacked me in the face. How had he found that out?
“We had dinner at my aunt’s café. Is there something wrong with that?” I asked.
He studied my face. I sensed he wasn’t telling me everything.
“When did you first see Caleb that night?”
The detective thought Caleb was the murderer? Of course, I had my suspicions too. Now that the detective had questioned me about Caleb, I didn’t want it to be true.
“He just kind of popped up, I suppose.”
“Do you think he could have already been there and you just thought he popped up?”
“No, not at all.” I paused. “Yes, I suppose he could have already been there.” Now the detective was putting even more doubts into my head. “Do you think Caleb killed Evan?”
“I didn’t say that,” he said.
He didn’t have to say it. I read between the lines.
“Would you mind walking with me back to the scene to show me exactly where you first saw Caleb?”
I frowned. “Yes, if you think that will help. I’ll leave Van in the trailer.”
I remembered the ghost. Would she still be there? I eased the door open and peered inside.
“Are you looking for someone?” the detective asked.
“Um, no, just a habit.”
Whew. I had to remember not to be so obvious about looking for my new ghost friend. Elizabeth was nowhere in sight. Was she hiding from the detective? I placed Van in his bed, although I figured he wouldn’t stay there. He’d probably play with his toys. At least he seemed to like the ghost. If she came back while I was gone, he would probably ask her for another belly rub.