Free Merry, Merry Ghost by Carolyn Hart Page B

behind the desk, I settled comfortably in the chair.
    The desk was neat, envelopes tidily stacked in the in and out baskets and several folders aligned with a church bulletin next to a copy of the afternoon newspaper. A church directory rested near the telephone.

    “I used to live in Adelaide and was a parishioner. I’m visiting friends.” I was, after all, Keith’s friend Jerrie.
    “I want to pick up a copy of the parish directory so I can call old friends.”
    “Call old friends,” she repeated. Her eyes fell to a story below the fold on the front page.
    “You know how it is when you pack in a rush.” I invited understanding. “I didn’t bring my address book with me.”
    “Are there particular families you wish to contact?” Her smile was bright, but it didn’t reach suspicious blue eyes. She folded the newspaper.
    “Just old friends.” My shrug was casual. “I talked to Susan Flynn, but I didn’t want to trouble her for phone numbers.”
    Her smile was swift. “Susan is a dear. I suppose she told you the sad news about the Carstairs?”
    “Actually, we didn’t talk about the Carstairs.” Carstairs? That wasn’t a name I recalled.
    The secretary’s eyes widened. “I would have thought that was the first thing Susan would have brought up, the dreadful accident last week.”
    “We had so many old friends to remember. Now, if you don’t mind”—I glanced at my watch—“I’ll take the directory and run along.” I glanced pointedly at directories stacked on a shelf in the walnut bookcase on the near wall.
    She popped to her feet. Without a glance at the bookcase, she pulled a key ring from the pocket of her yellow cardigan. She came around the desk, gestured toward the hall. “The new directories are in the supply closet.
    If you’ll come with me, I’ll get one for you.”
    I gestured toward the bookcase. “I don’t need the most recent edition.”
    “Might as well be up to date.” She led the way into the hall.
    I was tempted to march to the bookcase, seize a directory, and sail past her. Instead I rose and followed her.
    As we walked in silence, she darted uneasy sideways glances at me.
    Had I said something amiss?
    Midway down the corridor, she stopped and unlocked a door. She swung it open and stood aside for me to enter. She turned on the light, revealing a long narrow storeroom. “The new directories are on the middle shelf.”
    I saw the stack. Success was to be mine. I hurried forward.
    The door slammed. A click. I rushed to the door and twisted the knob. Locked!
    Locked doors posed no difficulty for me, but I wanted the directory. I could waft right out into the hall but I would have to open the door to take the directory and I had no key to unlock the door once I stood in the hall.
    I disappeared. In a flash, I was back in the secretary’s office.

    Hands shaking, she punched numbers. “Police? Come at once to St. Mildred’s. I’ve detained a suspicious woman. She came to the church and tried to get a parish directory. I saw the story in this afternoon’s Gazette .” She yanked up the newspaper, held it with a shaky hand.
    I read over her shoulder.
    BEWARE CHRISTMAS SCAMS
    Police Chief Sam Cobb reported today that a statewide alert has been issued by the OSBI regarding fraudulent activities common during the holiday season.
    Calls purporting to come from charitable groups should be checked by the recipient. Chief Cobb advises against providing any personal information, including Social Security numbers or back account numbers, over the telephone.
    A favorite scam reported in Dallas and Oklahoma City involves a well-dressed woman claiming to have monies that will be paid over as soon as the person contacted provides a checking account number.
    Chief Cobb said in another ploy, a woman arrives at a home to pick up a promised donation for a church or charity. The woman exhibits familiarity with the family using information gained from newspaper society pages or church