When Good Ghosts Get the Blues Read online

  “Man, Hayward is going to be sad he missed this. Days of Our Lives doesn’t have anything on drama like this!” Flapjack quipped, popping into view near my left ankle.

  “We didn’t want him to find out. He has a temper. Obviously!” She snorted, then seemed to catch herself.

  Her eyes went wide.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “Did Sam—”

  “Nothing!” she insisted. “It doesn’t mean anything. You wanted to know why I was here, and now you know.”

  “No, I don’t. You told me you were here the night before the murder. That doesn’t clear up what you were doing here last night.”

  “I was looking for my earring,” she snapped. “The one you pointed out was missing yesterday at that unpleasant meeting. Bart gave them to me that night and I put them in right away. I don’t know when the one fell out, but I looked everywhere. This was the last place I could think to look, but I didn’t want to explain it to the detectives. I didn’t tell them about Bart and me dating.” She paused and licked her lips. “Anyway, I didn’t have the keys, but figured that balcony door would still be unlocked, and it was.”

  “Is everything okay over here?”

  We all turned in unison to see Sam approaching, wearing his leather jacket and a surly grimace.

  “What are you doing here?” Lucas said, a harsh edge to the question.

  “I’m the new head of security,” he announced.

  “What?” Lucas, Flapjack, and I all said.

  Brooklyn shifted from foot to foot and looked like she’d rather be running a marathon in shoes lined with razor blades than be standing there.

  Sam shrugged. “There was a gap. I filled it. It’s business, not personal.”

  “Like hell,” he bit out.

  Brooklyn held up her hands. “Please, you guys, don’t—”

  “It was you, wasn’t it?” Lucas asked, his voice a dangerous growl. He wasn’t paying any attention to Brooklyn. His gaze was trained on Sam, flames sparking in his eyes. “You found out Brooklyn was seeing Bart, got into it with him. He ends up dead and then what? You set me up to take the fall so that you could swoop in and take my job? Is that it?”

  “Lucas,” I said, placing a hand on his arm.

  He pulled his arm away and took a step closer to Sam. “After everything I’ve done for you, this is what I get in return?”

  Brooklyn’s eyes were wide, ping-ponging between the two men.

  “Is that what you meant?” I asked her. “When you said Sam has a temper?”

  Sam’s eyes snapped away from Lucas. “You said what?”

  “I didn’t say anything!”

  “I should have known I couldn’t trust you,” Sam snarled. “You led me on and on. Just last week you asked me out to coffee! Then I find out you’re sleeping with the boss.”

  Brooklyn flinched. “I asked you out to coffee to tell you about Bart and me. But I … I couldn’t.”

  Sam barked out a cold laugh. “Of course. Then you come here and have your boyfriend pay me off so you could hook up, right here under this roof, like he’s some kind of dog marking its territory!”

  “I am not someone’s territory!” she snapped, squaring her shoulders against her ex.

  “Could have fooled me, Brooklyn.”

  “Go to hell, Sam.” She whipped around and started toward the house.

  Panic sparked in Sam’s eyes and the smug grin fell away. “Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

  Brooklyn spun on her heel and flashed a wicked grin. “I think it’s time for me to have a little chat with Detective Delgado.”

  Sam lunged toward her. “You little—”

  Lucas jumped forward, inserting half of his torso between the ex-lovers. “It’s over, Sam.”

  “I’ll tell them what you did!” Sam shouted, spited flying. “You’re an accomplice. You told me to wipe the footage! You said you’d cover for me! We had a deal.”

  “Then it looks like it’s time for me to cut a new one, doesn’t it?” With a cold smile, she pivoted on her pencil-thin stiletto and marched up the front steps and into the house.

  “Get out of my way,” Sam snarled at Lucas.

  “Not a chance.”

  Sam took a swing, but Lucas stopped him, and in a move so quick I couldn’t even see how it happened, Lucas had Sam’s arm twisted behind his back. From the look on Sam’s face, it didn’t feel great.

  “How did the blood get on my boots?” Lucas growled into Sam’s ear.

  Sam struggled against the hold. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

  “You were just going to let me take the fall? Why?”

  “It was you or me,” Sam grunted. “What was I supposed to do?”

  Lucas’s jaw clenched.

  “The blood was an accident,” Sam finally said. “I forgot my boots at the hotel and I knew you kept an extra pair here. Bart was a stickler for crap like that, so I put them on. It wasn’t intentional. All right?”

  “Oh, yeah, that really makes me feel all warm and fuzzy,” Lucas snarled.

  “You gonna let me go?”

  “Not a chance.”

  Everything happened so fast that it was hard to know exactly how much time passed between Brooklyn going inside to the time Detective Delgado and a uniformed officer came out to take Sam from Lucas’s hold. They loaded him into the back of an unmarked car and were gone without fanfare.

  When the car was out of sight, I glanced around and spotted Brooklyn standing in the doorway of the house, having apparently watched the whole scene from the safety of the porch. I glanced at Lucas and then went to stand at the bottom steps of the porch. “Why did you cover for him?” I asked her.

  She shook her head and for a moment, I thought she wasn’t going to answer me. When she spoke, her voice trembled. “Sam and I had a complicated relationship.”

  “How did you meet?” I asked.

  “Through Lucas, actually.” She winced. “Sam had struggled to find work before he met Lucas. He has a felony on his background, an old assault charge. He said it was a stupid bar fight. I was never brave enough to actually do the digging. Lucas vouched for him and I trusted Lucas, so I pushed it through without the studio finding out. Sam was grateful for my help and offered to buy me a drink and that was it, I guess. It wasn’t a long-term thing, but I cared about him. More than I want to admit now, considering everything. It was one of those types of relationships that run hot and cold. When it was good, it was really good. But when it was bad … it was a nightmare.”

  “Did it ever get physical?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “But, like I said, he had a temper. He’d blow up at stupid things, like a traffic jam or a restaurant getting his order wrong. It’s one of the reasons we broke up.”

  “Why did you let him stay on as security?”

  “I don’t know. He never had issues at work, and technically he didn’t work for the studio, so I just … turned a blind eye and tried to stay out of his way, which, when I was in New York was relatively easy to do.”

  “What happened that morning, Brooklyn?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Sam said he needed to speak with Bart and me in the library. He’d put two and two together, and it got ugly. We argued, and when Sam insulted me, Bart took a swing at him. Of course, Bart was no match for Sam. He grabbed that sculpture and hit him in the head. Bart went down and—” her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes shut. “And he never got back up.”

  My stomach rolled. The whole thing was so senseless and dark.

  “I told Sam to wipe the video cameras and turn them off. I told him I’d tell the detectives they’d been turned off all morning. I don’t know why. I mean, I was—I am—so mad at him for what he did. I’ll never forgive him, but at the same time…” She buried her face in her hands and made a frustrated growl.

  “How did he Sam get out of the security trailer? Lucas said the camera showing the driveway was left on, and that’s why the detectives ruled S
am out as a suspect. They said it would have caught him if he’d left the trailer during the time of the murder.”

  “I don’t know,” Brooklyn said, waving a hand. “He doctored it somehow. Looped it to other footage to cover the time he was leaving and going back inside. We really thought we had all the bases covered. Everyone on the crew had fingerprints and DNA inside that house. If there wasn’t an eyewitness, it was going to be impossible for the police to pin down one suspect, and without that, there would be no case.”

  “And then the boot print…”

  She nodded, still looking pained. “Sam said we should have pinned it on Gilbert. If we both said he did it, we’d be in the clear, but I couldn’t go through with it.”

  I scoffed. “Right, wouldn’t want to ruin an innocent person’s life. Oh wait… that’s exactly what you were trying to do to Lucas.”

  “No! I never lied about that. I told the police it couldn’t have been Lucas. I tried to help him!”

  I laughed, the sound dry and mirthless. “Sure you did. You helped a ton, especially when you called the studio’s legal team off the case and left him out to dry.”

  Brooklyn nodded but kept her eyes trained on the ground, unable to meet his gaze. “I really am sorry.”

  I shook my head in disgust. “I’m sure you’ve made some kind of deal and you’ll skate through this, no harm done, but if Karma is real, I’d still watch your back.”

  She glanced up at me and it looked as if she were about to speak, but then thought better of it and walked away without another word. I watched her go across the street and climb behind the wheel of the SUV, the whole thing a strange déjà vu of the night before.

  When she was gone, I rejoined Lucas.

  He let out a long exhale and glanced at me. “I owe you an apology.”

  I shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s over now. That’s what really matters.”

  “What did Brooklyn have to say for herself?” he asked after a moment.

  “Nothing worth repeating, really. She covered for Sam because deep down she still loves him, even if she won’t openly admit it.”

  Lucas scrubbed his hands over his face. “I still can’t believe he was fine letting me go to prison for him.”

  “Brooklyn told me what you did for him,” I said. “How you helped him get the job in the first place.”

  “I believe people deserve second chances,” he replied quietly.

  “I still believe that,” I said. “I hope you do too.”

  He nodded and then steepled his fingertips together. “I’m just glad this is over. Time to move on.”

  “Me too,” I said, leaning my head down to rest on his shoulder. “I’m exhausted.”

  He moved to wrap and arm around me and I nestled in closer. “This hasn’t exactly been the relaxing vacation I’d envisioned.”

  Exhaustion overwhelmed me and I let out a snort of laughter. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  Lucas chuckled and the warm timbre vibrated through his chest. “Let’s start talking about plans for that do-over.”

  I smiled up at him. “What did you have in mind?”

  Chapter 18

  “Here we go, your silver chariot awaits!”

  Flapjack bristled. “It’s a train, Scar. You don’t have to oversell it. We’re familiar with the concept.”

  “Why’s he so grumpy?” I asked Hayward.

  “I’m afraid I rarely have an answer to that query, Lady Scarlet.”

  Gwen giggled and looped her arm through Haywards. He smiled and patted the back of her hand. “Shall we, my lady?”

  “We shall!” she exclaimed with a bright smile.

  Flapjack rolled his eyes. “Maybe I’ll wait for the next one.”

  “The ghost trap is still free,” I told him.

  He shuddered. “I’m never doing that again.”

  “Then you’d better get your furry butt on that train.”

  “See you back at home, Scarlet,” Gwen called as she and Hayward slipped through the side of the train. I raised a hand and waved.

  Flapjack stalked behind them, muttering to himself.

  “Bye, Flapjack,” I said. “I’ll see you back in Beechwood Harbor in a few days. Try to enjoy yourself!”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  He disappeared and I chuckled to myself.

  “Everyone good?”

  I turned at the voice and smiled at Lucas as he joined me. He handed me a coffee cup. “They’re boarded and ready to go.”

  He grinned. “Finally got you back to myself?”

  “Looks like it,” I said. “At least, for a couple more hours. My plane leaves at one, so I figured I’d catch the shuttle back to the airport around eleven.”

  “All right. Time for one more breakfast?” he asked, glancing at his watch.

  “Only if it involves cronuts,” I teased.

  Lucas chuckled and looped an arm around my shoulders. “I think that can be arranged.”

  “I didn’t figure you’d put up a fight.”

  We made a beeline to the bakery we’d been frequenting like a pair of junkies looking for our next sugar bomb hit. Lucas ordered and we sat at a table outside, watching the world go by. After breakfast, we returned to the hotel and I packed my suitcase. With the case resolved, Lucas was booked on his own flight back to Los Angeles for the next day and would stay in the suite one more night.

  The front desk called a taxi for me, and Lucas and I stepped outside to say goodbye at the curb. He’d offered to take me to the airport, but I’d declined. Big, emotional airport goodbyes weren’t my thing, and when I turned down his offer, the glimmer of relief in his eyes told me they weren’t his favorite either.

  A cab pulled up to the curb and I glanced up at Lucas. “Looks like my ride’s here.”

  “Here,” he said, grabbing my suitcase. “I’ll get that.”

  The driver came around and opened the back door and took the suitcase from Lucas to stow away in the trunk. Once empty-handed, Lucas pulled me into a warm embrace and I buried my face against his chest for a long moment. “I hate that we have to say goodbye, not knowing when we’ll see each other next.”

  “I know,” Lucas agreed. He kissed my forehead. “We’ll plan something soon.”

  I didn’t want to press him for details, but a part of me wondered if soon would really be an option. Lucas had a ton of decisions to make in the coming weeks, maybe months, and I couldn’t see how he’d find a good stopping point to make a trip to Beechwood Harbor. It wasn’t likely that I’d manage a trip to California either. I’d left my flower shop in my only employee’s hands for nearly ten days, which meant overtime and a hit to my payroll funds.

  “Maybe I could take off early on a Saturday and come down for Sunday and Monday,” I offered.

  He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Let’s talk dates as soon as I get settled.”

  “Okay.” I nodded and then kissed him again. “I’ll call you when I get back home.”

  “Please do.”

  “I do have one stop to make before going to the airport,” I told him.

  He gave me a small smile. “I figured as much.”

  I gathered my suitcase and purse, gave him one last kiss, and I swear, as I ducked into the backseat of the car, I heard a faint humming rendition of the GhostBusters theme.

  According to the hours posted on the door, Madame Firefly’s wasn’t set to open for another hour. I frowned at my watch and realized I couldn’t wait that long. As I debated whether or not to leave a note with my phone number, I glanced down the street just as Lilah rounded the corner. She wore her silver headphones and carried two cups of coffee. When she spotted me, she flashed a broad smile. “There you are,” she said, as though she’d been expecting me. “Where are your friends?”

  “I put them on a Greyhound back to Washington a couple of hours ago.”

  “Aha.” She held out one of the cups. “Here. This one’s yours.”

  I faltered but she gave the cup a
slight shake and I took it from her. “How did you—”

  She smiled. “I had a feeling you’d be stopping by and figured you liked coffee.”

  While she unlocked the door to the shop, I took a sip and felt my eyes go wide. “This isn’t just coffee,” I said. “This is a vanilla hazelnut latte. My favorite drink.”

  Still grinning, Lilah shrugged. “I took a gamble.”

  “Uh huh…”

  She laughed and pushed the door open. “Come on.”

  The shop looked different in the soft morning light. It was still a hot mess, but somehow the piles of knick-knacks and dusty books looked prettier in natural lighting.

  “Queen Elvira hasn’t been down here to close the drapes and start burning sage yet,” Lilah said, once again seeming to read my thoughts.

  I stopped walking. “All right, what’s going on? Are you reading my mind or something?”

  She laughed. “No. I’m not that kind of psychic.”

  “So, what exactly is your power? We never got around to discussing it the other day.”

  “Let’s sit,” she said, opening the door of the reading room. I followed her inside and we settled into the same chairs we’d occupied the last time we’d met in the glorified closet. “I can’t read minds, but I can read energies. Objects, auras, spirits. Everything has a charge, so to speak. Some stronger than others. I find that with those who have their own gift, the energy is even stronger. That’s why it’s easy for me to read you.”

  “That’s … disturbing. I’m not sure I like the idea of being a walking open book.”

  “Most of it is surface-level stuff.” She gestured at the coffee cup I held between my hands. “Your drink preference, for example. Not exactly a State secret.”

  “And you knew I was coming to see you,” I said.

  “Well, I knew I was to expect a visitor. I didn’t know it would be you until you were almost here.” She stopped and saw the confusion on my face. “It’s complicated. So, why don’t you tell me what brings you by? That part is truly a mystery to me.”

  “I’m leaving today,” I started. “Flying back home to Washington.”

  “Oh?”