Nothing to Ghost About by Morgana Best

Author:Morgana Best
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: ghosts, occult, paranormal, supernatural, ghost, cozy mystery, ghostly, witches and wizards, mystery supernatural, cozy animals
Publisher: Morgana Best

Chapter 13

Somehow my mother had managed to talk me into attending Ian’s birthday party. She was having it at her house, and as I lived there, too, I was hard put to come up with a good excuse to avoid it. For that reason, my mother didn’t have to ask me any more than, well, about fifty times. Finally, I agreed.

I was getting ready for the event when I heard Mom calling me. “Laurel, did you have a meeting at the funeral home?”

I went out of my room and stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at her. “No, why?”

“There’s someone there,” she said. I went back into my room and looked out of my window. Sure enough, a long black sedan was parked outside the funeral home. I couldn’t see anyone behind the wheel, so I assumed they were up on the front porch, ringing the doorbell.

“Who is it?” my mother asked from downstairs.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll go find out.”

I pulled on some socks and shoes, and hurried to the funeral home. A large man in a black suit stood on the porch. He turned to face me. “Ah, I should have figured you didn’t have to work on weekends,” he said with a slimy smile. He offered me his hand, and I shook it slowly and briefly.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Surely you know who I am?” His round, bald head tilted to one side.

I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. Have we met?”

“Your father didn’t speak of me?”

“I don’t know what your name is,” I said politely.

“My name is David Dunne.” When I didn’t say anything, he sighed. “I own Dunne Funeral Home in Tamworth.”

Dunne Funeral Home was a bigger, glitzier, and in my opinion, tackier funeral home that did triple the business of my place.

“Oh yes,” I said icily. “What can I do for you, Mr. Dunne?”

“Please, colleagues should call me David,” he said, “especially colleagues I am suing.”

“Suing?”

“I thought I would come up and speak with you before our lawyers got involved. You do have a lawyer, yes? But the short version is, I came up with the so-called celebrity funerals first, and as such, you stole my idea, and you’re profiting from it. I plan on getting my cut of that profit, and I’m sure you’ll agree I’m entitled to it.”

I was furious. “You’re not entitled to anything. You can’t own an idea.”

“Ah,” the man said, holding his finger up, “so you do admit I had the idea first?”

“What? No!” I said. “I’m just saying that you can’t own an idea, even if you had it first, which you didn’t. I came up with the idea. Anyway, ideas are not subject to copyright.”

David Dunne laughed and shook his head. “Your celebrity funerals are disasters.”

“If you think they’re disasters, then why do you want a piece of them?”

“It’s owed to me.”

“I don’t owe you anything.”

The man stepped forward. “Let me tell you something, missy, your father and I didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, but we respected one another.

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