Ghost Busting Mystery by Daisy Pettles

Author:Daisy Pettles [Pettles, Daisy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780981567822
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

When I swung the Impala into my driveway, the Harley was leaning up against the house by the back cellar door, but there was no sign of Veenie. I was relieved to see that she’d made it home. Crazy old coot. One of these days she was going to get herself into some serious trouble. I already had the bail money set aside.

Sassy was sitting in the porch swing. A white-haired gentleman with a little goatee sat next to her. Gratefully, they were both dressed. With Sassy, attire could be an uncertain item. After being born and raised in Knobby Waters, she’d run away and lived most of her adult life with swingers out in California.

Sassy and her man friend were swinging back and forth, surrounded by pots of red geraniums and purple petunias. She waved as I loped up the sidewalk. “What’s Veenie doing riding Junior’s bike? Thought she lost her license?”

“She did.” I limped up onto the porch, my bad knee a little achy. The limestone steps were steep and wide. And my right knee was bothering me from scrambling around in the Gremlin. I grabbed the rusted iron railing and heaved myself up onto the concrete porch. “She did lose her license, but she was in a hurry today, and I wasn’t driving fast enough, I reckon.”

The man on the porch swing stood up and introduced himself. “Melvin Beal,” he said. “Pleased to meet you.” He extended a well-manicured hand.

“Likewise,” I said. “Ruby Jane Waskom, but most folks just call me RJ, so feel free.”

“I’m from around Louisville. Met this precious, little flower of a lady down on the Belle.” He rolled a shoulder toward Sassy, who beamed like a hunter who’d just dragged home a prized catch. And I had to admit Melvin did look pretty darn good compared to most of the prey Sassy hog-tied and brought home.

He was rail thin, wearing fussy, gray dress slacks and a white turtleneck that went well with his tidy goatee. His thin, white hair was plastered in place and he was wearing thick-rimmed glasses. His feet were clad in Florsheim tasseled loafers that were spit polished. He was wearing an expensive gold-link watch and smelled like English Leather. He had perfect teeth that didn’t chatter on their own or lisp. Dental implants, I reckoned. He smelled like a Southern gentleman.

He said he’d been reading about the ghost case and was fascinated. “Just fascinated.”

“Being a PI does keep me and Veenie busy,” I said.

“And ghost busting,” he said. “My, oh my. We got a lot of ghosts down South. Never seen one myself, though. Once, when I was a freshman at Ole Miss, after a little too much moonshine, I did see some strange things. But I think that was the liquor.” He chuckled a little.

I sat down in the rocking chair closest to Melvin.

Melvin returned to his seat next to Sassy on the porch swing.

Sassy swung an arm around him. “Melvin here is officially retired, but he still drives around and does a bit of business.

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