Free Phantoms Can Be Murder: Charlie Parker Mystery #13 by Connie Shelton

here. Do you think
this display is appealing? Thought the bright colored yarns would draw the
eye.”
    “It certainly caught my eye,” I
said, in a small attempt to cheer her up. “It’s very nice.”
    She didn’t look completely
convinced. “If I could just find out what’s really going on around here. We
only moved into this spot about a year ago. I’ve heard of cases where an old
ghost doesn’t like a new tenant and tries to scare the occupant away. Makes me
wonder.”
    “You could ask Louisa. She’s
knowledgeable about which buildings in town are reputed to be haunted.”
Personally, I thought it a lot more likely that a human would have an agenda
than a ghost. “Maybe the previous tenant left something behind and is trying to
come back for it.”
    “Like what? Wouldn’t they walk
right in the door and just ask me for it?” She picked up some skeins that she
hadn’t used in the window display and carried them to the wall of shelving that
held her inventory. “The place was rather cluttered when we took over,
especially the cellar. Loads of old empty boxes, some construction materials.
We never found anything of value when we cleared it all away.”
    What would someone leave
behind that they couldn’t come back and request? My mind immediately went to
thoughts of a hidden stash of something—valuables, drugs, contraband?
      “What kind of shop was it before you moved in?”
    “Charity thrift store,” she said.
“You’ve noticed them around town, I’m sure. The Heart Association, the Cancer
Fund and such. I think this one was something to do with Alzheimer’s Research.”
    I couldn’t help it. I chuckled.
“So there you have it. They’ve forgotten what it was they left behind.”
    Finally, a smile from her. But it
faded quickly. Obviously she still believed that anyone coming for their
possessions would simply walk in the door and ask. And she could be right.
    “When Archie gets home from his
business meeting I’ll ask him to check around in the cellar some more. Perhaps
we can figure this out.”
    “A meeting?” I blurted it out
without thinking, realizing the mistake when her face turned to ice. “I’m
sorry. It’s not my business.” Archie hadn’t been dressed in business attire
when I saw him buying new underwear awhile ago.
    “It’s all right.” Her tone stayed
a little frosty. “The meeting was really an interview. That’s all.”
    “But—” I stopped. She obviously
didn’t know where her husband was. “I understand. And really—I won’t say a
word.”
    “It’s not like it’s anything to
be ashamed of,” she said, pulling her shoulders straighter. “In these times . .
. Besides, he’s been an enormous help in getting my shop set up and all.
Really, we’re a team now. I prefer it this way.”
    “Good. That’s great.” I felt my
face freeze into a falsely bright smile.
    She covered by stepping behind
the register and tamping some papers into a neat stack; I covered by picking up
a random candle and telling her I’d meant to buy it yesterday. I paid for the
candle and put it into my purse.
    “Charlie,” she said as I turned
to leave. “Louisa told me that you are a private detective, in your home city.”
    Oh, god, here it comes, I
thought. That inevitable request. That faint hope that I might find the answers
to someone’s problems. I recognized the look on her face. What could I say? It
would be supremely ungracious of me to turn down the request, having already
pulled one social gaffe within the past five minutes.
    “Do you think you could discover
what is happening here? In my shop. Why these pranks. Low-key, of course. I
don’t want any more patrons frightened away.”
    “I’ll see what I can do.” And
with that, I sealed my fate.
     

 
     
    Chapter
8
     
    I set my purse down and perched
on a stool near the counter. I could at least ask some questions.
    “You haven’t reported any of
these incidents to the authorities?” I asked, knowing the