A Ghostly Grave by Tonya Kappes

Author:Tonya Kappes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2015-03-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Hettie Bell was satisfied with my answer of a woman scorned because she didn’t make mention of the bar scene the rest of the way home. Apparently, Sugar Wayne didn’t make it onto his motorcycle or at least he didn’t catch up to us.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go in and check around with you in case there is someone in there?” Hettie asked as we pulled up to Eternal Slumber. Hettie’s car was parked at the square from going to the opening ceremony of the Kentucky Festival of Caves.

“No. I’m sure they got what they wanted.” I wasn’t sure what it was that they wanted, because the only room torn up was Charlotte’s office. There was no way they were going to get into the elevator to get Chicken’s body or autopsy report.

I glanced over at the funeral home. It was eerily dark. I had never been scared of Eternal Slumber or the contents, but tonight it was a little different. Someone out there killed Chicken. They knew we had dug him up. No thanks to the media, it was obvious Chicken’s remains were taken to Eternal Slumber, and the entire state knew we had purchased the new equipment—­again, no thanks to the media.

Music spewed from the gazebo in the square. There was a bongo player and guitar player, along with a hippie-­looking girl singing her heart out. They weren’t on the opening ceremony venue. Apparently, they were visitors taking in the festival while exploring the caves.

“I might just go grab a Diet Coke from one of the food coaches.” I pointed to the lively group still gathered at a ­couple of the scattered picnic tables that the council had put out for the festival.

“I’m going home and taking a long, hot shower.” Hettie did a shimmy shake.

I laughed. I didn’t blame her. “Did Sugar sprinkle a little too much sugar on you?” I winked.

“Uh.” Hettie’s tongue protruded out of her mouth as her face scrunched up. “You owe me big time. So be ready to put on a painter’s cap. My yoga studio is ready to be painted.”

“Sure.” I nodded. I’d agree to paint, knowing that once I started she’d ask me to stop since I was so bad with a paintbrush, which was due to my impatience and just slapping it on.

I pulled into Eternal Slumber’s driveway and we got out. As we crossed the street, Hettie waved bye on her way to her car and I continued toward the group standing near the beer booth.

“Well, well. How is the star of the show?” O’Dell Burns stood up and stumbled over to the food cart. “You know”—­the drink in his cup swashed up and over the rim as he pointed his index finger at me—­“it’s not good for business to go digging up your clients.” He grinned.

“Not here, Mr. Burns.” I turned back around to the person working the booth. “I’ll have a Diet Coke.” I took out some cash from my purse, exchanging it for my drink.

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