Granny Apples 05 - Ghost in the Guacamole (16 page)

“Oh, Mother,” Emma said, hugging her back. “I'm sorry, too. Today I got a real taste of the worry you go through with some of my activities.”

After Elizabeth sat down, she said, “Actually it was quite exciting. I'm not sure if I'd want to be in the middle of another shooting, but solving the puzzle of it all is fun.”

Paul put an arm around his wife and pulled her close. “That's us, the geriatric Nick and Nora Charles.”

“So who does that make us?” Phil asked Emma.

She gave it some thought before answering. “Maybe those two Day of the Dead dolls I bought you a couple of days ago?”

“Emma!” Elizabeth said, her voice tight and cracking. “Please don't say such a thing. Not even in jest. Not after today.”

“Yeah,” called Granny while Archie ran around her. “One ghost in the family is enough. I don't need the competition.” The table hushed at the thought.

“Who was that man, the tall black man, talking with the police?” asked Paul, breaking the silence and changing the subject. “He seemed to know you two quite well.”

“That's Jeremiah,” Granny said, heading back to the table. “We just met him today. He can see and hear me.”

“Really, Granny?” asked Elizabeth with surprise. “He can hear
and
see you?”

“Every bit as well as Emma,” the ghost told her.

“It's true, Mother. Jeremiah Jones is a medium just like me except that he claims until he met me and Phil today, he's never told anyone.”

“He was the person Gino Costello contacted to identify the man in that photograph I took,” Phil told them. “He's a former detective with the LAPD.”

“So how did you cross his path?” Paul asked. “Did Gino give you his number?”

Phil laughed. “It's quite a story.” He got up and kissed Emma on the forehead. “You tell them, honey. I need to go inside for a minute.”

While Phil was gone, Emma and Granny brought the Millers up to speed on Jeremiah Jones and what happened at Santiago's. At the end, Paul asked, “So you think he has something to do with this?”

“We don't think he's involved with the crime,” Emma said after chewing and swallowing a carrot stick with hummus, “but he knows a lot more than he's telling us. Of that we're pretty sure.”

“Why not send Granny in to spy on him?” Paul suggested.

“They did,” Granny answered, “but Jeremiah was onto me and was cagey. That's the problem when they can see ya.” Elizabeth relayed the comment to her husband.

When Phil came out of the house, he was carrying the Day of the Dead bride and groom dolls. He placed them in front of Emma, who looked at them, then up at him with surprise.

“Phil,” Elizabeth admonished, “those are really ghoulish.”

“I think so, too, Elizabeth,” Granny said, “but Emma likes them.”

“I do like them, Granny,” Emma said. “That's why I bought them and gave them to Phil.”

“And that's why I'm giving them back to you,” Phil told her.

Emma looked even more surprised. “But I thought you liked them.”

“I do,” he assured her. “That's why I gussied them up a bit more. Take a closer look.”

Emma first picked up the male figure but saw nothing out of place. Then she picked up the female figure and gave it close review. “Oh my!” She slapped a hand over her mouth and looked up at Phil, who was still standing next to her chair.

“What is it, Emma?” Paul asked.

Without answering, she plucked something from the bride's bouquet and held it up for everyone to see.

“Well, it's about time!” groused Granny, but the ghost had a wide smile on her face.

“Oh, Emma,” said Elizabeth, choking back tears.

Phil took the diamond ring from Emma's hand. “I bought this right after we got back from Las Vegas and have been carting it around with me every time I see you, just waiting for the right moment. When you gave me those dolls, I thought maybe the time had arrived.”

Granny hopped up and down. Around her, the dog barked and danced thinking she was playing with him. The Millers, showing more restraint, beamed with happiness.

“Welcome to the family, son,” Paul said. He stood up and reached out to shake Phil's hand.

“Hold your horses,” Phil said, “the lady hasn't said yes yet.” Groaning, Phil got down on one knee. “Emma, will you marry this old broken-down cowboy?”

She threw her arms around his neck.
“Sí!”

“S
O
what's on the agenda today, Chief?” Granny Apples was in the bathroom with Emma, watching her put on her makeup. Emma had recently finished a good morning workout and taken her shower. Phil had done the same.

“Phil and I were thinking of contacting Jeremiah,” Emma told Granny, “and grilling him on his activities. We want to let him know we're onto him.”

“You won't need to do that,” Granny said. “I checked in with him early this morning and told him he needs to fess up.”

Emma stopped running a bulky soft brush across her face and stared at the ghost, who was perched on the edge of the big tub. “You did?”

“Yep. I told him we're not greenhorns and know he's up to something.” Granny got up and drifted in and out between the bathroom and Emma's bedroom. “Where's Phil?”

“Downstairs in the kitchen.” Emma put down the brush. “And what about Jeremiah? What did he say?”

Granny came back close to Emma. “He said I was right. He also said to tell you to put on a fresh pot of coffee.”

“Why's that?” Emma eyed the ghost with suspicion.

“Because he's on his way here right now.” Granny put her hands on her hips. “Do I have to spell everything out for you?”

Emma put her hands up to her face in frustration. She'd never had a sister to fuss and argue with but often Granny felt like that to her. When Granny died, she was only in her early forties, just a few years younger than Emma was now, adding to the feeling that they were siblings and not separated by both generations and death.

“Careful,” Granny cautioned, “you might mess up that goo you put on your face.”

“Emma,” Phil called to her. Emma could hear him coming up the back stairs from the kitchen. She met him just as he came into the bedroom. “Jeremiah just called. He wants to talk to us, said the sooner the better. He said he'd be here in about ten to fifteen minutes if that's okay by us. I said sure.”

Emma turned and stared at Granny. “Told ya,” the ghost said with a sniff.

When Jeremiah arrived, they all went out to the back patio. Already on the table was a carafe of coffee, mugs, sugar, and cream. It was just past nine o'clock and already shaping up to be a hot day. Before sitting down, Jeremiah looked at the large white house and pristine property, taking it all in. “When I was growing up,” he said as he took his seat at the large glass patio table, “I used to pass by these grand Pasadena houses and wonder what they looked like inside. Same with the mansions in Beverly Hills. This is beautiful. Grand but homey.” He pointed to the single-story building close to the house. “Is that a guest house?”

“Yes,” Emma answered, “although now it serves as a workout room and my home office.”

“So you grew up here in Southern California?” Phil asked.

Jeremiah nodded. “Yep. Spent almost all my life in and around Inglewood until I went off to Nam. How about you?”

“Raised in Julian down by San Diego,” Phil told him.

“I know where Julian is,” Jeremiah said. “Love to go there every now and then. Peaceful place. Love the apple pie.”

“There's a ghost in Julian,” Phil told him, “by the name of Albert Robinson. He hangs out mostly at the Julian Hotel. He's African-American and the original owner of the hotel.”

“Really? I didn't know that,” Jeremiah said with interest.

“Next time you go down there, look him up,” Phil said. “You might even find him in the graveyard by his headstone. Tell him Emma sent you. They're pals.”

Emma nodded and smiled. “That we are. I often go up to the old Pioneer Cemetery and visit with Albert when I'm in Julian.”

Jeremiah grinned. “I should be surprised, but I'm not.”

“Emma grew up here,” Phil continued. “She shares the house with her parents, but she also has a home in Julian, which is where Granny is from. Emma built her home on Granny's old homestead.”

At the mention of Granny, Jeremiah smiled. “That old ghost is quite a character.”

“You don't know the half of it,” Phil told him with a shake of his head.

Emma got up. “Phil, why don't you pour the man some coffee while I get the other stuff.” She went into the house and came out a few minutes later with a basket of hot blueberry muffins, along with jam and butter, plates, and knives. “Jeremiah,” she said to their guest after putting the muffins on the table, “we ate breakfast much earlier but I'd be happy to whip you up something more substantial like eggs.”

“No, Emma, but thanks. Had my breakfast hours ago, too. I'm an early riser. Looks like you two are also.”

“All my life,” Phil said with a laugh. “Grew up on a ranch. Never could understand how my boys could sleep in until noon. Now Emma has me on the treadmill at the crack of dawn instead of feeding horses.” He reached over and gave Emma's arm an affectionate squeeze.

Jeremiah gave them both a sly grin over the rim of his coffee mug. “I understand congratulations are in order.” He pointed at her engagement ring.

“Very observant of you,” Emma said with a bright smile.

“Nah,” Jeremiah said after taking another sip of his coffee. “Granny told me this morning. She's very happy about it. Kept saying it was about time. Hopefully your engagement will be happier than Rikki Ricardo's.” He looked around again. “By the way, where is Granny?”

“She'll be back,” Emma told him. “I think she's recharging. I don't know how much you know about spirits, Jeremiah, but they can't materialize for long periods of time without needing to reenergize. It's like putting your phone on a charger. Granny has learned how to maintain her presence longer than any other spirit I've met, but still needs to rest. She wanted to be fresh for this meeting.”

“And where are Dr. and Mrs. Miller?” Jeremiah asked. “Dr. Miller did some fine work stabilizing Chef Lopez yesterday. We're very glad he was there. I'd like to thank him.”

“Emma's parents got up very early this morning and headed down to Julian for the weekend. They are good friends with my aunt and uncle, who live across from Emma's home.”

Emma laughed and shook her head. “I think Mother and Phil's aunt Susan are already planning our wedding. You'd think we were a couple of kids fresh out of college.”

Silence, not uncomfortable, but peaceful and as easy as a pair of old slippers, fell over the table while they drank their coffee. The air was still and dry with only the occasional buzz of insects as background music.

Jeremiah broke the silence. “In Granny's words, seems you're onto me about some things.”

Phil and Emma exchanged looks. “More like we think there is more to you than meets the eye,” Phil said to him.

“Like my business card says, I'm a private investigator. You already know that I'm an ex-cop and used to partner with Aaron Espinoza.” Jeremiah leaned back in his chair and crossed one long leg over the other. Like the day before, he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. “What else do you want to know?”

“Wait for me?” called a disembodied voice. “I want to hear this, too.”

“Don't worry, Granny,” Jeremiah said with a chuckle. “I'll wait for you.”

The ghost popped in and looked around. She floated here and there. “Where's Archie?”

“Who's Archie?” asked Jeremiah, looking at Phil and Emma with curiosity.

“That's our Scottish terrier,” Emma explained, “and Granny's best bud.” Emma turned to Granny. “Mother and Dad took Archie to Julian with them, Granny. You can visit him down there.”

Satisfied, Granny turned to Jeremiah, hands on hips. “So spill it, gumshoe, or we'll make you talk.”

Jeremiah leaned his head back and roared with rich, throaty laughter. “Where do you come up with this stuff, Granny? You're a real pistol.”

“Too much TV,” Emma said. “That's where she gets it.” Granny made a face at her, causing Jeremiah to laugh again.

“So,” Phil said, getting the conversation back on track. “What's your connection to the Ricardos and/or to Steve Bullock?”

“Spoken like a true lawyer, Phil. Getting right to the meat of the matter.” Jeremiah drank more coffee and reached for a muffin. “You and Emma are right, there is more to it. It's true I am a semi-regular at Santiago's and have been for years, but that just made my surveillance easier. I've been hired to keep track of Steve Bullock.”

“And you knew that he was lunching regularly with Lucy Ricardo, didn't you?” Emma asked.

“Yes, I did,” Jeremiah admitted. “I knew about the sale and how it was causing a rift in the Ricardo family. I also knew that Bullock had been linked to some shady business dealings in the past, though nothing was ever proved. So did my client. I was hired to see if he was doing anything underhanded in his pursuit of Roble Foods. Bullock's uncle is the majority owner of Fiesta Time, but Ramon Santiago is ill and Steve is positioned to take over the company when his uncle retires or dies. Ramon and his wife never had any children of their own.”

“What about his relationship with Lucy?” Emma asked. “Granny doesn't think they are romantically connected. Do you?

“Trust me, they aren't,” said Granny. “They never once touched each other or gave each other so much as a peck on the cheek.”

“Granny's right,” Jeremiah said. “They aren't a couple, but they are working together in the takeover of Roble Foods by Fiesta Time. Of that I'm sure. Other than that, I couldn't find so much as a shared milkshake.”

“What about that bombshell yesterday about Rikki and Lucy having different fathers?” asked Emma. “Lucy said she found out about that around the time Felix died. Do you think that's why she's determined to break up Felix's company?”

“Yes, that was a shocker yesterday,” admitted Phil, grabbing a muffin for himself, “even if not for the attempted murder of Rikki Ricardo. Did you know about Lucy's paternity?”

Jeremiah shook his head, drained his coffee mug, and reached for the carafe. Emma started to pour for him, but he waved her off. “I can get it myself, Emma. Just keep it coming. I live off the stuff even though my doc tells me to cut back.” Once he poured his coffee, Jeremiah answered, “The father thing was news to me, too. But I do know she's a very vindictive woman. Her hatred of her sister was evident in everything I've heard and seen. She's hell-bent on destroying everything the Ricardo family built. Although she sabotaged her own plans by getting arrested. The push for the sale might have survived T.J.'s shooting, and might even have helped it through by distracting Rikki, but Lucy's arrest will probably bring the process to a halt.” He bit into his muffin. “Mmmm, these are outstanding, just like my wife used to make. She was quite a cook and baker.”

“Phil made them,” Emma said with pride. “One of his specialties.” Jeremiah lifted the half-eaten muffin toward Phil in appreciation.

“It's my aunt's recipe. They were already in the oven when you called,” Phil said after swallowing a big bite of his own muffin. He eyed Jeremiah with suspicion while he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “So you just happened to overhear Lucy Ricardo and Steven Bullock talking on several occasions? All the way from the far end of the bar?”

“No flies on you, eh, Phil?” Jeremiah gave him a sly glance.

“Only when I step in horseshit,” Phil said. He hesitated, then asked, “Where's the bug? Under the table? Somewhere in the booth? Or is it back at Lucy's office?”

Jeremiah leaned back in his chair, relaxed and unconcerned. “That would be illegal, Phil. As an attorney you should know that.” He polished off his muffin and dusted crumbs from the front of his shirt.

“I do,” Phil responded, “but that doesn't mean you didn't do it.”

“Tell me, Counselor,” Jeremiah said, leaning forward again, “is tapping a conversation any different from sending a ghost to eavesdrop on someone? It's still a violation of privacy, wouldn't you say? After all, in each case the parties have no idea they're being listened to.”

“I was doing surveillance,” Granny snapped. “We were on a case.”

“I was on a case, too, Granny, and I'm a licensed private detective.” Jeremiah smiled at the ghost. “Where are your credentials?”

“We were looking into this because Rikki had asked me for help,” Emma told him, leaving out the part where Rikki had earlier told her to keep out of it. “We're not professional investigators like yourself, Jeremiah. We're just friends helping friends.” She picked at the muffin on her plate with telltale nervous fingers. Jeremiah noticed.

“Uh-huh,” the PI said with a smile and buried his nose in his coffee mug. He was starting to annoy Emma, and it was clear to all that he was enjoying it.

“When did you start tailing Lucy?” Phil asked.

“I didn't say I was,” Jeremiah said, looking right at him. “Bullock was my target.”