Ghost in the Polka Dot Bikini: A Ghost of Granny Apples Mystery (3 page)

He hoisted one booted leg across the opposite knee. “I’m guessing now might be a good time to ask her if she wants that help or not.”

After Granny and Tessa
North disappeared, Phil and Emma had a late breakfast at Jack’s Country Kitchen, then resumed their weekend plans with a long walk uphill to the Wrigley Memorial and Botanical Gardens. Though cool and damp that morning, the fog had burned off, leaving the air warm with a crisp accent.

Holding hands, they followed a small map of the city, wandering first down Catalina Avenue to Tremont Street, then along Tremont until it intersected with Avalon Canyon Road. Along the way, they passed small, colorful houses, many built in the shotgun style, standing eaves to eaves on the limited soil. At Avalon Canyon Road, they turned left, leaving behind the more densely populated area. According to the map, at the end of Avalon Canyon Road, they would find the botanical gardens. Phil had wanted to rent a golf cart, the most common mode of transportation on the island, but Emma had held her ground, citing that they needed the exercise.

“Didn’t we get enough exercise back at the hotel last night?” Phil shot her a sly look. “And this morning?”

“And didn’t
you
just fill up on biscuits and gravy? Not to mention sausages and a three-egg omelet.”

“And enjoyed every morsel.” He winked at her. “Hey, Fancy Pants, not my problem if you don’t eat red meat. A sausage or two might do you good once in a while.”

“Yuck. My blueberry pancakes were just fine, thank you.”

Fancy Pants was the nickname Phil had tagged her with when they’d first met. At that time, he’d meant it as a negative moniker, but now it was his pet name for her. And as the nickname had moved from negative to affectionate, so Emma’s feelings about it had changed from annoyance to enjoyment.

They walked a few more steps, passing the island’s fire station. “Odd, isn’t it?” she observed with a smile. “I’m the city girl and you’re the country boy, yet I’m the one who wants to hike and spend time outside.”

“I spend plenty of time outside on the ranch. Right now, I’m on vacation. Didn’t realize I’d be on a forced march.”

“And aren’t you glad I had you change your boots for athletic shoes?”

Phil growled with pretend annoyance. Emma saw physical exercise as a form of entertainment, while he saw it as a means to get things done, like working around the ranch he shared with his aunt and uncle, Susan and Glen Steveson, or spending time on a treadmill because his doctor had ordered him to do it. But as much as he groused, he really did enjoy the activities he shared with Emma and had never felt better.

Emma laughed. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You bet you will, Fancy Pants.” He stopped her in her tracks and planted a big kiss on her mouth. She melted into his strong, warm arms.

“I’ll make it up to you about Granny, too.”

“No problem there, so long as she’s not in the peanut gallery when we’re feeling frisky. And as long as I don’t end up at the bottom of your priority list.”

“Not a chance, cowboy.” Emma’s smile turned quickly into a frown. “Seriously, Phil, do you mind very much about the ghosts?”

Phil Bowers looked into her clear blue eyes, feeling his heart swell at the kindness and affection—and love—radiating from them. He stuck a hand into his pants pocket and fingered the small box he’d put there earlier.

“Not really. I’d mind it more if you were boring. And, Emma Whitecastle, you are anything but boring.” After looking around, he changed his mind and removed his hand from his pocket, using it to cup her cheek instead. He kissed her quickly again before they resumed their walk.

“So,” he said, after they’d walked a few more yards, “what’s the deal on this new ghost? Remember, I only heard your side of it.”

He had asked about it over breakfast, but Emma stalled, saying she’d tell him when they weren’t in such a public place.

The ghost of Tessa North had been reluctant at first, but she soon relaxed in their presence. With curiosity, she’d looked at Phil, who was staring in her direction.

“He can’t see me?” Her question wasn’t one of concern, but of interest.

Emma shook her head. “No, he can’t. And he can’t hear you either, but he knows you’re there. He’s a good friend of mine and Granny’s.” When Tessa said nothing more, Emma added, “Is there something we can do for you, Tessa?”

The ghost shrugged and moved away from the balcony doors. She drifted over to where Phil sat, as if testing whether or not he could see her, then moved closer to Granny and Emma.

“Granny asked me if I knew I was dead.” She shrugged again, lifting her shoulders high with exaggeration as only the young can do. “I know I’m not like you, Emma, or like him.” She pointed at Phil. “At least not anymore. But is this what being dead is like? Playing at the beach every day? Where are the angels? In Sunday school, we were told angels came to get us and take us to God.”

Emma smiled at the young ghost. “You are dead, Tessa. You are a spirit now, able to come and go as you like.”

“But you need to pass over to the other side,” Granny insisted.

“Granny’s right, Tessa. I’m not sure what’s on the other side. Maybe God, maybe angels, maybe nothing but peace and bright light, but there does seem to be an orderly way of going about it. You can always come back here to visit, just as Granny does.”

“But I can’t go anywhere. I have to stay here and wait.”

“Wait for what, Tessa?” As Emma asked the question, she noticed Phil become more alert, trying to fill in the blanks between her conversation and what he couldn’t hear.

Granny drifted closer to Tessa North. “What are you waiting for, child?”

“For Curtis.” Tessa said it as if it explained everything. When she received only blank looks, she added, “He told me he’d come back.” She looked worried. “If I go somewhere, he might not be able to find me.”

“Who’s Curtis, Tessa?” Emma kept her voice in mother mode, speaking to Tessa as if speaking to her own daughter.

The ghost cast her eyes downward. Her blush was evidenced by her manner rather than by her colorless and hazy cheeks. She looked up and beamed. “He told me he loved me. He told me he’d come back.”

Emma moved over and sat down in one of the chairs. “Let’s talk about this, Tessa.”

Following Emma’s example, Tessa sat in the chair closest to the balcony. Granny stood near her. Phil watched Emma, noting that she was as comfortable talking to the air as she was speaking with him. When they’d first met, he’d called her psychotic; now he thought her amazing.

“Tessa,” Emma began, keeping her voice kind and soothing. “What do you last remember? About being alive, I mean, and about Curtis?”

Tessa gave off a big sigh and scrunched her pretty face as she tried to remember. “We were on the boat.” A frown materialized across Tessa’s brow. “Everyone was upset by the news and wanted to get away to relax.”

“What news, Tessa? Do you remember that?”

“Of course I do. Everyone was upset about it.”

“Who’s everyone?”

Turning her face to Emma, Tessa looked at her in surprise. “Why, just
everyone
. Don’t you read or listen to the news?”

Emma tried not to smile too much lest Tessa interpret it as mockery. She’d learned that spirits often have no sense of time or history. It could be that Tessa had no concept of how many years had passed since her death. She was still pretty sure Tessa was from the sixties, so she dug deep into her brain to unearth major news events of that decade. Since Emma wasn’t born until the sixties, all the information at her disposal would have been learned from history books and stories told by people like her parents. She recalled that the sixties had been turbulent years—the Vietnam War, protest marches, the assassinations of both President Kennedy and Martin Luther King, the Cuban Missile Crisis—with any number of things that could have made big news.

“What specifically upset Curtis, Tessa?”

When Tessa spoke, her eyes were wide. “They were there, you know—at the Ambassador Hotel—when it happened.”

The Ambassador Hotel. That definitely struck a chord in Emma’s memory bank. She rooted around to grasp it clearly before speaking. “The Ambassador Hotel? You mean Curtis was there when Robert Kennedy was shot?”

When Phil and Emma
reached the botanical gardens, Emma dug a water bottle out of the small backpack she was wearing and handed it to Phil. She dug out another for herself.

Phil took a drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “So now we know about when this Tessa died.”

Emma nodded while she took her own drink.

“Kennedy was shot in June of 1968.” Phil took another drink of water before continuing. “I was in junior high at the time. School was almost out for the summer. I remember it well.”

“According to Tessa, this Curtis was at the Ambassador, attending the party for Kennedy. Said he was very upset for days after and came to Catalina on his boat to relax.”

“Curtis who? Did she give you a last name?”

“Nope. Every time I asked, she dodged the question—and not very skillfully. It was almost like she was afraid to tell me.”

“It might have been Curtis who killed her.”

“Could very well be. She doesn’t remember much right now, but she might regain bits and pieces of what happened as we talk. The last she remembers is that Curtis told her he’d come back for her.”

Instead of his usual cowboy hat, Phil was wearing a ball cap to protect his scalp from the sun. He took it off and wiped the top of his bald head with a bandana from his pocket. “Hmm, she could have been hurt, and he went to get help but never made it back.”

The sun was high in the sky now, and the morning haze was a memory. “That’s a good possibility.” Emma put on her sunglasses and studied the rugged terrain around the gardens. “I’m with Milo on the theory that Tessa died here on the island. And since she’s wearing a bathing suit, it’s probably a safe guess that she died in or near the water. I can’t really see her up here or somewhere else away from the beach, can you?”

“Not if she’s wearing a bikini.”

Emma watched as Phil tipped his water bottle back again. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she asked him.

“Loving it. Catalina’s a great place.”

“I don’t mean that. You’re getting into the whole thing with Tessa, aren’t you?”

He pointed a finger at himself. “Who, me? Nah.” But his grin told the truth.

“Come on, Bowers,” Emma teased, poking a short polished nail into his chest. “Admit it. You wouldn’t be asking questions if you weren’t interested.”

“I’d be more interested if I could actually see the little hottie.”

Emma shook her head in mock disgust and headed for the entrance of the botanical gardens. “Men. Even death doesn’t slow you down.”

Phil trotted after her. “Hey, hey, hey—in case you haven’t noticed, I’m far from dead.”

Emma and Phil spent the next couple of hours walking the gardens, their arms wrapped around each other’s waists, enjoying their time together. There were many other visitors besides them, including whole families enjoying the long Thanksgiving holiday away from the bustle of city life. It made the two of them think of their own children.

“How about we all get together for Christmas in Julian?” Phil suggested. “Kelly, my boys, your parents, everyone. Aunt Susan would love it as much as we would.”

Emma flashed him a big smile. “Ah, you read my mind. It can be the official launch of my cabin.”

Shortly after Phil and Emma had met—and after she’d proven that Granny had not murdered her husband—Phil and his family had deeded the property once belonging to Ish and Jacob Reynolds to Emma. It was a small parcel directly across from the Bowers ranch. Emma had elected to build a vacation home on what was once Granny’s homestead. Except for interior touches, the “cabin”—a three bedroom, two-story mountain retreat with two fireplaces—was nearly finished. She’d already spent some time there, and her mother had come down to help with the decorating, but Emma had never had her entire family down to Julian. Christmas would be the perfect time. Her mother and Phil’s aunt had become friends, and she had no doubt her father, a retired heart surgeon, would fit right in with Phil’s uncle Glen. And Kelly might enjoy the getaway before returning to her studies.

“Christmas in Julian? Hotdog!”

With a start, Emma turned to find the ghost of Granny Apples standing just behind her. She scowled. “‘Hotdog’? Where in the world did you pick up a phrase like that?”