The Ghost in the Graveyard by Shéa MacLeod

Author:Shéa MacLeod
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Ghost, Murder Mystery, Whodunnit, Halloween, Holiday
Publisher: Sunwalker Press
Published: 2020-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

I followed Baker inside, but when I would have joined her in the front room with Cheryl, she firmly shut the door in my face. Rude, but not surprising. Police were usually funny about letting civilians in on their interrogations.

Cheryl had a pretty solid alibi, as did Bat and everyone else at the wedding, what with being in a room together. Photographs and videos would show that no one had left the room once the cake cutting started. Baker would soon find herself looking elsewhere. I might as well make myself useful and search for clues to point her in the right direction. But first I needed to change. My dress was too snug for traipsing around a graveyard, searching for a supposed ghost.

I’d changed with Cheryl in the honeymoon suite on the second floor but then moved my things to one of the smaller bedrooms on the third floor, since Bat and Cheryl would be making use of the suite after the ceremony. Bev had assured me the third floor was practically empty at the moment, leaving me free to pick whatever room I liked. I’d gone with the black and purple vampire-themed room.

At the top of the third-floor stairs beneath a window that looked out over the cemetery was an old steamer trunk painted black and topped with a skull resting on a doily. Because why not? Only something was weird, and it took me a moment to realize what was off.

When I’d come up earlier, the trunk had been latched and the skull and doily perfectly centered. Now the latch was loose, the trunk lid slightly wonky, and the doily and skull were off-kilter.

I studied it closely, trying to figure out what the problem was. I realized that the edge of a bit of white fabric was just visible between the seam created by trunk and lid, as if someone had quickly stuffed something into the chest without making sure the lid could close all the way.

I’ve never considered myself nosy, but curiosity overwhelmed me. I set the skull and doily on the windowsill and lifted the chest lid. I don’t know what I’d expected to find inside—a skeleton maybe—but it was full of musty old copies of National Geographic. Most of them looked to be from the ’70s. Wadded up on top was what looked like a white sheet.

I pulled it out and held it up. Someone had cut two eyeholes in it, like something straight out of Peanuts or Scooby Doo. Could this have been worn by whoever had been running around the cemetery?

I inspected the sheet carefully. Sure enough, there were green grass stains along one side, as if whoever wore it had sat on the grass. Waiting for someone? Or spying? My guess was that this was from whoever I’d seen out in the cemetery. But there wasn’t a speck of blood, so perhaps they were not the killer. But they’d hid their costume in the chest, which indicated they probably thought they’d be blamed for the murder.

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