Haunt Couture and Ghosts Galore (7 page)

Once we stepped inside the store, I spotted the sign that featured Meira Mora and where she would be appearing.

“It's going to be a little strange talking to her about this, don't you think?” Sam asked.

“Yes, I'm sure it will, but she won't be able to hear you all, so it's up to me,” I said as we moved along.

“You'll do fine,” Charlotte said.

After making our way to the back of the store, we found the table where the designer sat.

I stopped in my tracks. “Whoa. I hadn't expected to see this many people here to see her.”

“She must be popular,” Sam said.

“What do I do now? I can't wait in that line,” I said.

“I think you have no choice.” Charlotte gestured.

I pushed the hair away from my face. This was going to be a long day.

“Maybe I can get her attention and she'll talk to me,” I said.

“Oh, do you know her?” Sam asked.

I sighed. “No, not at all.”

Charlotte scoffed. “Well, good luck on getting her to talk with you then. If you want to speak with her, you're going to have to wait in that line. You'd better get in line before someone else comes and it's even longer.” Charlotte pointed as if commanding me to move.

I reluctantly got in the line. I had to think of another way.

Charlotte watched me. “I know that look in your eyes, Cookie. I know you're plotting something and it probably won't end well.”

I looked down at my shoes. “Oh, have a little more faith in me, okay?”

I scanned the area and then I devised a plan. Without saying a word to Charlotte or Sam, I marched through the clothing section. Several racks of clothing were next to the table where the designer sat. Charlotte and Sam had caught up to me.

It would be perfect for me. I could hide in the clothing and then pop out beside the table and just step into line as if I had been there all along. Was it sneaky? Sure. Did I like cutting in front of people? No way. But it had to be done.

When I reached the rack of clothing, I knelt to the ground.

“What in the name of Coco Chanel are you doing?” Charlotte asked.

“Maybe she's dehydrated and delusional,” Sam said.

I didn't have time to explain what I was doing, so I crawled under the rack of clothing.

“Oh, she's really lost it now,” Charlotte said.

After inching across the floor under the rack of clothing, I peeked out from behind a couple pair of pants. So far no one looked over and noticed me. I made it all the way out and then stood as if everything was perfectly normal. I rushed over and cut in front of the line. My move had now made me the second one in line.

“Hey, you can't do that,” the woman behind me said.

When I glanced over, I saw Charlotte holding her hands up to her face. “Oh, I can't look at the disaster.”

At this point everyone was complaining and it had caused quite a scene. The next thing I knew security guards had me by the arms. Both had official blue uniforms and large muscles.

“How sweet, an escort. Guys, it's really nice, but not necessary,” I said, trying to remove my arms from the men's tight grip.

“Oh, Cookie, how low have you fallen? Kicked out of Saks? It's sacrilege,” Charlotte said as she walked along behind the security guards.

“Don't you worry, Cookie, I've been kicked out of plenty of places. It's all in the name of private investigating. It's how you know you're doing the job the right way.”

His words weren't really helping. The next thing I knew I was back out in the parking lot.

“Well, way to go, Cookie, look what you did.”

I brushed off her comment. “Oh, Charlotte, don't be so dramatic. I'll just go right back in the other door.” I waved my hands.

“You are going to get arrested. As sure as I had Saks Fifth Avenue on speed dial, the police are going to throw you in the slammer.”

I marched around to the other entrance. I held my head up high and acted as if I hadn't just gotten kicked out. That was no easy task either. I glanced around but didn't see the security guards. My heart thumped wildly as I made it back over to the line. This time I stood at the back. Better safe than sorry. I'd just have to wait it out. My turn finally came around. I was last in line and my feet now hurt.

The security guards were still by the table, but surprisingly they didn't look at me.

“I don't think they recognize you,” Sam said.

“That's shocking considering the hissy fit she threw,” Charlotte said.

“I didn't throw a fit. I just voiced my opinion. Big difference.”

The woman looked up at me. I forgot that I was supposed to have her book to sign.

“Hi,” I said.

She quirked an eyebrow. “Hello.”

“I just have a few questions for you.”

She glanced over to see if security was still there. Why did everyone think I was a threat to their safety?

“I need to ask about Hannah O'Neil and Melanie Lee. Melanie told you not to use Hannah in your shows? Is that true?” Out of the corner of my eye I watched to make sure security wasn't headed my way.

“Well, that's a strange question. But yes, she had told me not to use her. She said she would try to sabotage my show. I couldn't deal with anything like that, so I decided not to use her. I told other designers too.”

“Wow, so it wasn't a rumor. That would be a reason for Hannah to be upset,” Charlotte said.

“I heard what happened to Melanie and I'm glad that I didn't use Hannah.” Meira played with the pen in her hand.

“Well, thanks for the information.”

“You're welcome.” She looked at me confused. “You didn't want me to sign a book?”

I rummaged around in my purse and pulled out a used envelope. She frowned as she looked down at the wrinkled up paper. Finally she scribbled her name.

“Thanks,” I said as I grabbed the envelope and turned to leave.

I took Charlotte by the handbags on the way out. We drooled over the purses while Sam yawned. Chanel, Louis Vuitton, and Gucci all had bags on display.

“We need to go, ladies.” He waved us on.

“We should visit Hannah in jail again,” Sam said as I unlocked the Buick.

My experience talking with Hannah the first time hadn't been that pleasant, so I wasn't looking forward to doing it again. Besides, Hannah hadn't given much information the first time. She still had her less than pleasant disposition.

“Maybe I will consider it,” I said as I started the car.

“You know, if it wasn't for your new lawyer friend, you probably wouldn't have gotten to talk with Hannah,” Charlotte said.

Sam leaned forward in the middle of the backseat, propping his arms against the leather front seat. “It is all about the connections. Don't worry, Cookie, I will help you be a good detective.”

Once back on the highway, I pointed the Buick toward Sugar Creek. “You have to remember, Sam, I'm not a professional detective. I'll probably make a few mistakes along the way.”

Chapter 12

 

 

After a long day at work, I was headed home. My comfy bed was calling my name. After a long bath, of course.

“You know what you need to do?” Sam asked from the backseat.

I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel as we waited at a red light. “What's that?” I was almost afraid to ask what the ghosts would come up with next.

“You need to go to the assistant. She would have been the closest to Melanie.”

“She would have the most details.” Charlotte smiled.

The light turned green and I hit the gas. The Buick hummed down the street. “You know, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think you're both on to something.”

When I glanced in the rearview mirror, Sam beamed. I was happy that he was getting to use his private investigator skills.

“You know she lives in Savannah though. That means we can't go right now.”

Sam and Charlotte nodded in unison. I can't believe how easy they were to get along with as long as they thought I was doing what they wanted.

“We'll have to go in the morning. I'll ask Heather if she wants to go on a road trip.”

“We'll leave first thing in the morning,” Charlotte said with excitement in her voice.

Once I was home and settled into my favorite spot on the sofa, I dialed Heather's number.

“How would you like to take a road trip?” I asked.

“Are we going to Vegas?” Her excitement bounced through the phone.

I laughed. “Not quite. We're going to Savannah.”

“Okay. Why?”

“I need to speak with Melanie's assistant.”

“Are the ghosts putting you up to this?” she asked.

I looked over at Sam and Charlotte as they stared at me. “You could say that.”

She released a deep breath. “Well, I guess if you think it's a good idea.”

“I don't know about that, but I guess I have to help Hannah. I always finish what I start, right?”

“I'll see you in the morning,” Heather said.

I hung up the phone and headed for bed. It was nice having Sam around to keep Charlotte occupied. It had been days since she'd sung off-key to wake me up. Instead I was awoken by the birds chirping outside my window. After going through my morning routine, I sifted through my closet. I wanted to pick the best outfit for car travel. It needed to be something casual and comfortable. Finally, I decided on jeans from the fifties and a red cardigan. Underneath, I wore a white short-sleeved blouse with a Peter Pan collar.

“Sorry, Wind Song, I will have to come back for you later.”

She wagged her tail in response. I'd barely made it off my front porch when I spotted Sam and Charlotte already in the car waiting for me.

“Charlotte, Heather will be upset that you are in the front seat.”

She stared straight ahead. I waved my hand in front of her face. “I know you hear me.”

I was surprised that she didn't jump at the chance to sit in the backseat with Sam. Had something happened? Was she mad at him?

“Fine, Heather can sit on your lap.”

Charlotte huffed and then got out of the car and around to the backseat. When I looked at Sam he shrugged. I knew he was just as confused by her behavior as I was.

After a few minutes, I pulled up to Heather's house and honked the horn. A couple of seconds passed and she bounced out the door. She wore jeans and a long peasant-style blouse. Her hair glistened in the early-morning sun. I hadn't been able to fully convince her to embrace vintage fashion, but she did wear a few pieces every now and then.

Heather slid into the passenger seat and then looked at the backseat. “Good morning, Charlotte and Sam. That still feels awkward,” she whispered to me.

“Good morning, Heather,” Sam and Charlotte said in unison.

“They said hello back,” I said.

Charlotte and Heather had been getting along better than when they'd first met. Heather was trying her best to be friendly. That was all that I could ask for.

“They seem to get along well,” Heather said.

“I think they go together like moonshine in a mason jar,” I said.

The drive to Savannah was beautiful with a blue sky and pleasant temperature. Sam chatted with Charlotte in the backseat, but she was quieter than usual. I would have to find out what was going on with her.

We finally made it to the outskirts of Savannah and found the street. My parents would be upset that I didn't stop in for a visit. There just wasn't enough time though. I'd have to call them later.

“I think it's the next house on the right.” Heather pointed.

I pulled into the driveway and looked at the time. “We're right on schedule. I'm a little nervous,” I said.

“Just take a deep breath and you'll be fine,” Charlotte said.

I did as she suggested and then opened the Buick's door. The house was gray brick with white shutters. The shades were drawn as if no one was home. Heather and I walked to the door with Sam and Charlotte directly behind us. After releasing another deep breath, I rang the bell and waited for Meaghan to answer. I was mulling over how I hoped this meeting would go in my mind.

After a minute, Meaghan answered the door. She looked at Heather as if strangers weren't allowed.

I gestured. “This is my friend Heather Sweet. I hope it's okay that she came. She kept me company on the trip.”

Meaghan hesitated, but then said, “Sure, please come in.”

Heather and I stepped inside the house with Charlotte and Sam behind us. Once inside I noticed the boxes sitting all around. Heather and I exchanged a look.

“Looks like someone is moving,” Sam said.

“Yes, but is she coming or going?” Charlotte asked.

Meaghan gestured toward the brown leather sofa. “Please sit down.”

Heather and I perched on the sofa close to each other, as if we needed to protect one another.

Meaghan stood by the fireplace. For a moment she kept her back to us. Was she studying the ocean painting on the wall above the mantel?

“What the heck is she doing?” Charlotte asked.

Finally, Meaghan turned and looked at us. Since the silence was making things more uncomfortable by the minute, I decided to speak. “It's tragic what happened to Melanie. I wanted to offer my condolences.”

She peered down at her black slippers. “Thank you.”

“I know that things were a bit tense that night between you and Melanie,” I said.

She whipped her head and glared at me. “What makes you say that?”

“I just remember Melanie yelling at you. Did she do that often?” I asked.

Meaghan relaxed her stance. “She was uptight and she did yell a lot.”

Heather and I exchanged another look.

“Keep asking questions,” Charlotte said. “I think you're getting somewhere.”

Meaghan walked across the floor. “I have to admit I was tired of being bossed around. She should have allowed me to handle things more instead of treating me like a baby.”

This was an interesting revelation. I couldn't rule Meaghan out as a suspect, although apparently the police had.

“Ask her if she murdered her,” Charlotte urged.

I couldn't just come out and ask that question. She'd immediately kick me out of her house.

“Can you tell me what happened that night?”

Meaghan moved to the other side of the room and then turned around to face me. “You were there. You know what happened.”

“Yes, but I want to hear your version of what happened.”

I was almost sure it would be different from my version of things. Now that I thought about it, I remembered seeing Meaghan backstage and she'd rushed out the door. I'd wondered where she'd been going in such a hurry. Coincidentally Meaghan had reappeared at the crime scene when the police had arrived. Where had she been?

Just then the phone rang.

“If you'll excuse me.” Melanie held up her index finger.

She walked out of the room, leaving us sitting there. I felt increasingly uncomfortable in her home. I just wanted to ask a few more questions and then get out of there. Heather shifted in her seat.

“Is it just me or is this place weird?”

“No, I feel it too,” I said.

“Maybe it's all the boxes?” Sam suggested.

“That could be it.”

“It's like someone was murdered in here.” Charlotte peeked around the corner looking for Meaghan.

“Let's get out of here as soon as possible.” Heather rubbed her arms.

“As soon as she comes back we can go,” I said.

“Well, this was a wasted trip,” Charlotte said.

“You should take this opportunity to take a little look around her place,” Sam suggested.

Charlotte looked back from the kitchen. “But you should hurry before she comes back.”

After easing up from my spot on the sofa, I tried to look into the kitchen, but I didn't see Meaghan.

“You don't want this to be a wasted trip, do you?” Charlotte asked.

“No, I don't, but I'm not sure looking around her stuff is such a good idea.”

“What's going on?” Heather asked.

“They think I should look around,” I said.

Heather pushed to her feet. “We might as well. I'll help you look around.”

“What do you think we'll find? The murder weapon?” I whispered.

“The police already have that?” Heather lifted up the chair cushion.

“Or so they'd like you to think,” Sam said.

It looked as if I was outnumbered though. Everyone wanted me to snoop around. My initial thought was no, but I finally agreed.

“Let's hurry,” I said to Heather as I hurried around the room. “I don't know what we're looking for, but maybe she'll have information from Melanie. Like any appointments Melanie had or something like that.”

“Good thinking,” Heather said as she moved over to the desk at the other side of the room.

I went to the drawers that lined the bottom of the bookshelf and pulled them out. “They're empty,” I whispered.

“I bet she's packed everything up. Maybe she was getting ready to move,” Charlotte said.

“This is the only thing over here.” Heather held up a large sketch pad. She flipped open to see drawings of clothing.

I stepped over for a closer look. The sketches for the outfits had Meaghan's name signed at the bottom of each page.

“It looks like she was designing too.” I took the pad. “I recognize these drawings. This is the clothing Melanie was showing at the show.”

“Then why does it have Meaghan's name on it?” Heather asked.

I flipped through a few more sketches. “I don't know. They look just like the designs that Melanie used in the show.”

“Did Meaghan design the clothing?” Charlotte asked.

“Not that I'm aware of,” I said.

A sound came from the kitchen. Charlotte and Sam ran over to the entrance to the kitchen.

“She's coming. Hurry and put the designs back.” Charlotte motioned.

I tried to stuff the pad back into the drawer, but I put it in the wrong way and it was now stuck in the drawer. It wouldn't close and wouldn't open any farther either.

“Oh no. What have you done?” Charlotte asked.

Heather yanked on the drawer, but fell back and landed on the floor.

“Are you okay?” I whispered.

She hopped up. “I'm fine.”

“I think I broke the drawer,” I said.

I pulled on the drawer one last time and it finally opened all the way. I almost tumbled back and landed on the floor like Heather, but I managed to right myself. Meaghan walked out from the kitchen and looked directly at us.

“What is going on out here?” she demanded.

I had to think quickly. “We were just looking at the desk. I accidentally pulled on the drawer.”

“Are you looking through my things?” she asked.

“There's nothing even here to look at.” Heather motioned around the room.

“Oh, way to go, Heather, you basically just admitted it.” Charlotte shielded her eyes. “I can't even look at this disaster.”

“I'm sorry, we weren't looking through your stuff,” I said.

I couldn't believe she'd caught us looking through her things.