The First Ghost by Marguerite Butler

Author:Marguerite Butler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Published: 2011-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

On Sunday I planned to meet my mother for Mass and then stay for the meal as promised. I had a brilliant idea for the next week, but needed Corinne to make an appearance. I wanted her to stake out the fridge at work and watch to see who helped himself to a burrito.

But on this Sunday, there was no Starla and no Corinne and I didn’t go to Mass. I thought about saying a prayer, but I wasn’t sure how to begin, so I decided that God would understand. I was doing something important by solving murders so the victims could cross over. Surely that was what he wanted me to do.

Starla had given me a pretty good description of the bar where she worked. A quick cruise by the Peppermill revealed it was not only open on Sunday, but would actually open at nine. Who goes to a bar on a frosty Sunday morning?

I circled the block and finally parked around the corner. I wasn’t sure exactly why I had come, but I wondered if Starla had any friends at the bar and if they knew anything helpful. I was lost in thought when someone knocked on the passenger side window. I started and then sheepishly unlocked the door. Fierro climbed in.

“This is police work,” he said. “Not psychic work.”

“Good thing I’m not a psychic.”

“Clairvoyant. Whatever. You might want to drive something other than a hearse if you want to stake out a place.”

“This isn’t a stakeout,” I said. “I was just thinking.”

He shifted in his seat and turned toward me. “I thought you were meeting your mother for Mass.”

“I was. I thought you were going to church too.”

“I was. In one hour we can both go in and see who wants to talk about Starla.”

“I get to go too? I thought you had a partner.”

“He doesn’t share my enthusiasm for the Starla Mueller case. In fact, he doesn’t think there is a case and officially there isn’t a homicide. What about you? I thought you had a boyfriend. What’s he going to think about you hanging out in bars on Sunday morning?”

I stared. “How did you know I had a boyfriend?”

He turned to face ahead. “You must have mentioned it.”

“I did nothing of the kind. You’ve been checking up on me.” I wagged an accusatory finger.

Fierro unbuttoned his jacket. “I had to make sure you weren’t some type of nut, that you didn’t have ties to the case.”

“You said you believed me.”

“I did. I do. But I checked you out first.”

“That’s not fair. You know more about me than I do about you.”

“Come on,” he said. “Pull out and turn left.”

“Why should I?”

“Because there’s a good Spanish bakery around the corner. Esperanza’s. Coffee and a pastry, my treat. Plus you can grill me. Deal?”

“Fine.” I put the hearse in gear. “But I don’t know where you get off thinking a boyfriend gets any say about where I go when. And he’s not my boyfriend. We just started dating.

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