Chance of a Ghost by E.J. Copperman

Author:E.J. Copperman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781101619162
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2013-02-04T23:00:00+00:00

Filling Nan and Morgan Henderson in on the situation with Dad and Lawrence Laurentz was, to put it mildly, tricky. With no mention of ghosts, the story had holes in it through which you could drive the Starship Enterprise. But if I’d mentioned ghosts, they clearly would have been calling various emergency numbers to have me sent somewhere I couldn’t do any further damage to my impressionable daughter. So I went with the shakier no-ghost version of the scenario.

That one consisted of my fledgling private-investigator’s license, the idea that Lawrence’s sister had contacted me through Mom, some odd messages left for me when I was sure there was no one else in the house, and myriad suspects, a lot of whom had motive and one of whom could be placed at the scene of Lawrence’s death. I said I had questions about my father’s death, too, and believed there to be a connection.

I noticed that Morgan seemed to get happier with each minute I was explaining myself, to the point that he was almost giddy by the time he asked me to explain that last part. He didn’t actually let out a satisfied laugh when he asked it, but he was wide-eyed and engaged in a way I’d never seen before.

His question, however, was spiked with difficulty for me. In the sans ghost version of the story, connecting the dots between Lawrence and Dad took some extra creativity. But I could rely on the one actual connection I had in real life, ghosts and all. I went back up to my bedroom and found my tote bag, where the business card Lawrence had given me after his disappearing act had drifted to the bottom, requiring a fairly serious spelunking expedition that took a few minutes after I got back downstairs with the bag.

I handed Morgan Dad’s business card. “I found this at”—I had to decide which venue to implicate—“the Count Basie Theatre. It’s my father’s. I can’t explain how it might have gotten there.” That last part was true—I absolutely couldn’t explain it.

Morgan took the card and examined it. Nan, watching him closely, seemed almost relieved, as if this unexpected turn in their vacation plans had brought her back the husband she remembered. Near the ceiling, Paul and Maxie were watching almost as intently; Paul seemed to be taking mental notes while Maxie, who had expressed disappointment at missing all the fun in the upstairs bathroom, was clearly hoping that something else deeply embarrassing to me might still happen and salvage her evening.

Morgan’s bushy eyebrows were doing the merengue all over his forehead; he was clearly deep in thought. “What would a handyman’s business card be doing in a theater in Red Bank five years after he died?” he asked, and then before anyone could answer (which admittedly would have been a while, since I had no idea), he added, “Did your father ever do any work in the Basie theater?”

Realizing this wouldn’t do any good since I hadn’t found the card at the Basie, I said, “I’m sure he didn’t.

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