Free Dead and Breakfast by Kimberly G. Giarratano Page A

Timothy and Cora, waiting for a laugh, but their eyes widened and they both gave imperceptible nods. Okay, so don’t talk about ghosts in front of the boss lady.
    Evelyn’s eyes flitted around the pool area. “Please take care of it before you go home.” She said to Cora, “Mrs. Paulson requested grouper for dinner. Is that doable?”
    “Sorry, not today, Mrs. Abernathy. There was no one to go to the wharf.” Cora slid the first-aid kit into her bag and headed inside with Evelyn, who muttered something about “guests expecting fresh seafood.”
    Timothy lingered outside with Liam. “Talk to Autumn. By the way, she has your ring.”
    “I know.”
    “You know?”
    “Yeah, she flashed it at me before she did this.” Liam pointed to his swollen lip.
    “She hit you?”
    “No, she bit me.”
    “Miss Autumn bit your lip?” Timothy sounded incredulous. “When?”
    “Last night. After midnight.”
    Timothy put his hands on his hips. “You came back here at night to search for the ring?”
    “Crazy, right?”
    Timothy’s pupils grew. “On second thought, I’m going to talk to Autumn. You go bury that bird and then go home. Your ring is safe for now.”
    “What do you mean ‘for now’?”
    But Timothy had already slipped through the sliding glass doors. Liam remained outside alone, with a cut on his forehead, about to say a eulogy for a bird.
    #
    After returning from the January room where she left Mrs. Paulson a fresh stack of towels, Autumn hurried to her bathroom. She turned on the hot tap and waited for the shower to steam up. That was the thing about truly old houses—the water pressure sucked, and it took an eternity for the water to be anything but arctic cold.
    Autumn faced the bathroom mirror and slid the ponytail holder out of her hair. The brunette strands were stringy, damp from sweat. Mascara caked under her lashes, leaving flecks of black in the creases below her eyes. She saw herself as Liam must have seen her yesterday. A mess.
    Autumn thought back to Inez. The way she carried herself. Tall. Elegant. Important. Being inside Inez’s memories gave Autumn an understanding of what it was like to be a woman people noticed. And yet, despite Inez’s self-confidence and beauty, she longed for something too. Not a something, Autumn realized, a someone. Someone she couldn’t have.
    Steam billowed around Autumn. The ring glinted next to the soap on the sink, taunting her. Calling her. Timothy would rat her out to Liam any moment, so it was now or never.
    Autumn slipped the ring on her finger and steadied herself against the edge of the pedestal. She waited for the slight wave of dizziness.
    This time when Inez climbed inside Autumn’s body, the ghost didn’t transport Autumn back in time. She hovered inside her and whispered, “What do you want to know?”
    Autumn glanced at her reflection. An amber ring circled her normally brown irises. “Who are you?” Autumn felt an invisible hand guide her as she traced a letter into the steamy condensation: a lowercase t .
    Okay, that’s a start. No true last name, but it shouldn’t be too hard to get information on a girl named Inez T., who died in the 1960s.
    Autumn grew bolder. “Who killed you?”
    Again, her hand lifted, as if guided by another force, and she wrote L-E-O on the glass.
    Autumn gasped. “Are you sure?” She stared at her reflection, but Inez didn’t answer.
    “Take me back,” Autumn demanded, “into your memories. Take me back to the day you died.”
    Autumn’s vision clouded and then cleared. Leo Breyer loomed in front of her, his face an angry mask. Autumn’s gaze darted around, but they weren’t in the patio. They stood in corridor with doors on both sides. A school? The only illumination came from the gymnasium. Leo continued to yell at her.
    A shadow lurked behind him, but Autumn couldn’t make out the form. Man or woman, she wasn’t sure.
    Spittle came out with Leo’s words, and his skin grew reddened, as if he was on