Not Quite Clear (A Lowcountry Mystery) by Lyla Payne

Author:Lyla Payne
Language: eng
Format: epub

The rest of the day went quickly between lunch with Beau and Mr. Freedman calling me back to his office to discuss giving me a raise. The amount of money I make would be laughable anywhere else, but with a free house, a boyfriend who buys dinner, and Amelia’s mom paying for a cleaning woman, I’ll be able to bank the extra cash.

Mel and Will left Grant with his mother and met us at the house at five thirty, then we made the quick trip to Charleston. We decided that Mel should go with Amelia and Will should come with me, basically because if anyone decided to give my cousin a hard time, Mel would handle it in a manner that wouldn’t get anyone arrested. And apparently Will has the most experience helping me come off like a normal person—debatable—so we’re together for the next couple of hours.

Mel and Amelia are going to see the nanny, while Will and I visit the teacher and the business partner. We’re guessing the nanny is going to take the most time, and then afterward we’re all going to stop at F.I.G. and splurge on dinner. It’s easily the best restaurant in the entire country, no fooling, and I’m not just saying that because I love this city.

“We’re meeting at the restaurant at eight,” I remind the girls before we part ways by St. Philip’s Church.

“If you’re going to be late, call,” Will stresses. “We have reservations.”

I roll my eyes and tug on his arm. “Let’s go. Good luck.”

My friend-slash-first love follows me down the block, away from his wife. It finally stopped raining but there are puddles between the cobblestones, begging to be hopped in. I refrain because trekking muddy water into a stranger’s house isn’t kosher.

“Which way are we heading?”

“Over off Chalmers.”

We stroll together in silence, the sun slipping toward the horizon and a sweet, pleasant breeze winding our way off the nearby water. Will’s never been one to talk unless he has something to say. And we have never been a twosome that has to speak to communicate. I guess some things never change.

We turn onto Chalmers, where I see the ghost of Anne Bonny’s dead pirate friend skitter around the side of the house. He’s spotted me but he’s also seen Will, and he apparently hasn’t figured out that only some living people can see him. The front porch lights aren’t on but it’s not all that dark yet. Will leads the way through the white picket front gate and up the well-kept steps onto the porch. Like so many of its kind in Charleston, the roof has been painted haint blue in order to keep the spirits out.

I cast a glance to where the pirate peers around the corner of the house. Huh. Guess that theory’s blown out of the water.

The sound of the doorbell pulls my attention back to the business at hand, and I go over the plan in my head. We ask if we can talk to her about a pending court case.

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