Free Caught Dead Handed by Carol J. Perry Page A

I’m not sure how to handle it.”
    â€œI understand. But what are you going to do about it?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I admitted. “It’s too new. I’m afraid to even think about using it for anything. But I’m going to try to keep the Nightshades job. It’s just an acting gig, after all, and it won’t be forever. I’m sure something better will open up before too long.”
    The ringing of the telephone interrupted my thoughts of what “something better” might possibly be.
    â€œIt’s for you, Maralee,” my aunt stage-whispered. “And it’s the police! ”
    She handed me the phone.
    â€œMs. Barrett? Pete Mondello. I spoke to you yesterday?”
    â€œYes, Detective. I remember you.”
    â€œUh, Ms. Barrett, the chief asked me to call you about some items you removed from the station.”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œThe chief is on his way over to the studio, and, well, it would be a good idea if you brought all that stuff you took back. Save an officer from going to your house. With the neighbors watching and all.”
    What on earth is this man talking about?
    â€œOf course I’ll return the books and cards,” I told him. “And the obsidian ball.”
    â€œYou’re coming over right away?”
    What is the big rush about some cheap books and a chunk of glass?
    â€œYes, sure.” I tried to keep the annoyance out of my voice and was not sure I’d succeeded. “I’ll be right along.” I hung up.
    â€œWhat was that all about?” Aunt Ibby wanted to know.
    â€œIt was that detective who interviewed me yesterday. Mondello,” I said. “I have no idea what he was talking about, but apparently, they’re in a big hurry to get Ariel’s things back.”
    â€œThe police need Ariel’s things? Do you suppose they’re thinking she didn’t fall in by accident? That she was pushed—”
    â€œI don’t know what they think,” I interrupted. “And you read too many mysteries! I’ll pick up Ariel’s stuff and get down there.”
    â€œWant me to come along?” She looked worried.
    â€œIf you really want to.”
    â€œI do,” she said. “Let’s go.”
    We dressed quickly for the cool October morning. I dumped Ariel’s things into a WICH-TV canvas bag and looked around to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. “Not much point in returning half a bag of cat food, I guess.”
    â€œI’ll take it to the animal shelter later,” Aunt Ibby said, “where the cats aren’t so picky. I certainly hope they don’t think I’ll be returning the cat! Come on. I’ll drive.”

CHAPTER 9
    As Aunt Ibby approached the green expanse of Salem Common, she slowed the Buick and pointed. “Look, Maralee.”
    A huge striped tent now covered the area from the wrought-iron fence to the bandstand. A sign proclaimed PSYCHIC FAIR – THREE DAYS ONLY – 12 PSYCHICS – NO WAITING – READINGS ONLY $25 EACH !
    â€œMaybe I can pick up all the psychic lingo I’ll need with one twenty-five-dollar stop,” I said.
    â€œWorth a try,” Aunt Ibby agreed. “Maybe you can walk over later today.”
    When we reached the WICH-TV parking lot, police cars with lights flashing barred both entrances, so we circled the block and found a space on a nearby side street. I grabbed the canvas bag, and we walked the short distance to the station.
    With every driveway and even the front doorway blocked, I had no idea what I was supposed to do next. I glanced around, looking for Detective Mondello. A uniformed officer standing beside one of the patrol cars noticed my confusion.
    â€œCan I help you, miss?”
    â€œI’m Lee Barrett,” I said. “Detective Mondello is expecting me.”
    â€œYou got ID?”
    I pulled out my wallet and handed him my Florida driver’s