Ghosts in Glass Houses (The Marti Mickkleson Mysteries Book 1) by Charles Kay

Author:Charles, Kay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kindle Press
Published: 2017-09-05T00:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

“I DO HOPE YOU’RE NOT turning into one of those youngsters with their noses constantly stuck in their phones,” Grandma said.

“Shush,” Marti said.

“That one! That one! Put that hat on her.” Amity pointed to a scarlet bowler adorned with yellow daisies. Marti tapped the screen of her phone, and the hat moved to the head of a blue-eyed, blonde, ringlet-bedecked doll. The virtual girl bore a startling resemblance to Amity. The hat wasn’t a great match for the green gingham dress and purple pantaloons they’d already put on her. Amity giggled and pointed to a pair of black Buddy Holly glasses. “Those,” she said.

Marti and her ghost crew were assembled in the family parlor. Grandma, The Judge, Amity—the only one not present was Edwards. As much as he adored his little charge, he needed a break. He claimed he hadn’t had one since Marti left home. Wherever he was hiding, Marti hoped he was enjoying the quiet. Amity wore her out in ten minutes. Edwards was stuck with her for eternity.

The first thing she’d done when she got home was take out her iPhone and check the local news sites for anything about the discovery of the McDonaghs’ Escalade. If any place had the story, it wasn’t deemed important enough to be considered breaking news. She learned nothing. The second thing she did was open an App Store account and download the Bicklesburg Bank’s mobile app. Their brick-and-mortar presence might be as old school as old school could get, but their customer service was thoroughly modern and up to date.

The third, fourth, and fifth things she did was check her bank balance. It was just as large as it was when Ashley first showed it to her. Maybe it wasn’t all that large. Maybe, after a decade of living hand to mouth, her frame of reference was skewed. She checked it again. Still unchanged and still large. Warren Buffett might not be impressed, but she wasn’t Warren Buffett. Jimmy Buffett, maybe. She did like margaritas.

And her bank account held a whole bunch of margaritas. She half expected to see it earning interest by the minute. She would have more when Bowman transferred the no-strings portion of her inheritance. Her upbringing proved money couldn’t buy happiness, but she was willing to give it a shot with or without the salt and lime.

She had no reason to hang around Bicklesburg. Other than her mother’s health and possible status as a murder suspect. But RachelAnne had things under control. Mostly.

Then there was Maggie.

“Why are you just sitting there?” The Judge said. “There are murders to be solved. Starting with mine.”

“You weren’t murdered,” Grandma said. “But keep it up and you might end up exorcised.”

“We can do that?” Marti said.

“No, but I know a guy,” Grandma said darkly.

“You don’t scare me,” The Judge said.

“Seen Sheila lately?” Marti said.

If it turned out Mom did knock off the old coot, Marti might give her a medal instead of turning her in. She checked her bank balance again.

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