Free The Gallery of the Dead (Tropical Breeze Cozy Mystery Book 3) by Mary Bowers Page A

haunted.”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “Oh, come on!, That’s practically the first thing you told me, other than that you liked my car.”
    “That’s right, you do have a great car,” he mused, as if reevaluating me. Then he said, “I did not tell you that house ain’t haunted. I just said the Whitbys ain’t haunting it.”
    “Oh, please, Jasper. It amounts to the same thing.”
    “If you say so.”’
    He looked away and went back to strumming his guitar. I left him there, disappointed. He just had to be cantankerous. For just a moment there I’d seen the melancholy poet he really was, and I’d begun to like him.
     
    I felt strangely calm when I got back into Petronella (my nickname for the Geo). I have heard that second-hand smoke can affect you this way, but the man hadn’t been smoking anything when I’d been with him. Still, he may have had a fug about him that I’d failed to detect. It’s not like me to be calm.
    I normally don’t answer my cell when I’m driving, but the road was suddenly deserted and I saw that it was Florence calling, so I answered.
    “Well, I did what you wanted,” she began breathily. Then, sotto voce , “This is so exciting, interviewing people for the investigation .”
    “I appreciate the effort, Miss Florence.”
    “Well, it was no effort at all! I haven’t talked to little Nancy in just ages, and she was so surprised to hear from me. And she wanted to know all about the haunting over at the Whitby House. She was over there lot when she was a little girl and never even knew!”
    “So she and her friends were in the house, then? Misty, too?”
    “Yes. I asked about Misty. You were right. Her maiden name is Howard.”
    I inhaled deeply, trying to remain calm. “And she went to pajama parties at the Whitby House when she was a girl?”
    “Yes, only they call them sleep-overs now. And she also told me she’s still in touch with one of the Allen girls. Rita Allen, only her name is Rita Garnett now. Divorced. No kids. And Nancy gave me Rita’s number and I actually talked to her!”
    “Why?”
    “Well, because this is an investigation!”
    “Yes. Well. Did Rita remember Misty at all?”
    “Vaguely. In fact, I think she was thinking of another girl altogether. She said something about red hair, and Misty’s has always been that mousy brown. I explained who I was, but I’m not sure she figured that out, either, but when I mentioned Tropical Breeze, she brightened right up and talked to me for quite a while. She was fascinated that you were doing a reality show in the house. Lots of good memories. Lots of good times.” She gave a happy little sigh.
    “Did she have any paranormal experiences in the house?”
    “I didn’t ask.”
    I remained calm. After all, the dear lady was only trying to help. If I had time, I would call the Allen woman myself. “Did you manage to find out anything relevant?”
    “I just told you! Anyway, be sure to remember – it’s sleep-over, not pajama party, or whatever you thought it was.”
    “I’ll make a note of it.”
    “Be sure you do. You don’t want to sound dated on TV.”
    “We won’t be discussing the pajama – the slumber parties.”
    “ Sleep -overs. Really, Ed! Are you even writing this down?”
    “I can’t. I’m driving. But I will remember.”
    “Never mind. I’ll send you a text. You can look at it when you get home.”
    “You’re very kind.”
    “Not at all. Be sure and tell Teddy I helped with the investigation.”
    “Will do.”
     
    I finished transcribing my notes at 2:37, and ran off seven copies to bring to the meeting in the morning.
    The second draft of the manuscript on my last investigation lay on the desk. It was so close to being publishable – just one more draft and a final polish was all it needed. But I had to get some sleep; I needed to be sharp for the on-camera investigation, which would probably be wrapping up in just about 14 hours. I gave my manuscript a wistful look, then