Read Online Ghost at Work by Carolyn Hart - Free Book Online Page A

know this?”
    It wasn’t the moment to explain that I, too, had once been young and naive. I still had interesting memories and I’d learned to dance a dramatic tango. Ah, Latin men. I settled for a dictum: “A married woman must never trust a single man.” Or married ones, for that matter, but we couldn’t cover all the bases tonight.
    â€œI never will again. Oh, damn, I don’t know how I got into so much trouble.”
    The buzzer sounded on the oven. “The cornbread’s done.” She looked at the clock and abruptly jumped up, “I’ve got to eat something. The Bible study class will be here in about twenty minutes. The stew’s ready. But there’s nobody here to care.”
    â€œNot so.” To me, the succulent stew was a matter of great interest. “I’d love to have a bowl.” I thought under the circumstances I wasn’t being too forward to invite myself to dinner, though Mama had always been strict with us: “Don’t let me ever catch you kids asking for food at someone’s house. Wait till it’s offered.”
    Kathleen looked surprised. “Do you eat?”
    â€œWhen invited.” I grinned at her.
    She managed a smile. “I’ll move Bill’s plate—” She stopped, her face suddenly stricken, one hand holding the lid from the pot, as she stared at the table.
    I stared, too. All I saw were the place settings and, of course, that cunning small telephone.
    Emotions rippled over her face, recollection, shock, panic. “Daryl’s cell!”
    I was bewildered. Cell? Did he have monastic interests? Surely she’d not visited him in a cell. Was she confusing the mausoleum with a cell?
    She banged the lid back on the pot, whirled, and started for the back door. “I’ve got to get it. He took pictures of me when I was at the cabin, and if they find it and see, I’ll be in a terrible mess.”
    I plunged after her, grabbed her arm as she tugged at the door handle. “Cell? He isn’t in a cell.”
    She tried to wriggle free. “His cell phone. His cell takes pictures.”
    I made the connection. I’d heard the ring and even picked it up. How amazing. A little phone could take pictures? But it must be so. Nothing but the hideous reality of images captured in the phone would explain her panic.
    â€œLet go.” She yanked her arm free. “I have to get that phone or I’m ruined.”
    As the door banged open, I grabbed her hand. “The police are there.”
    She stumbled to a stop, her face despairing. “The police are there? Already? They’ve found him?”
    I explained about Marvin and Buzzy’s good citizenship. I glanced at the clock. “The police have been there a good twenty minutes now. The chief had just arrived when I left. They were expecting someone else.” I couldn’t remember. “Something about a laboratory.”
    She leaned against the wall, unable to move.
    â€œDaryl’s phone has pictures of you?” I wanted to be sure I understood.
    â€œHe laughed, asked me if I wanted him to put them on the church Web site. I knew he wouldn’t because of his wife. But there they are, in his phone. The police—oh, what am I going to tell them? What am I going to tell Bill? He knows I loathed Daryl and wouldn’t have gone to his cabin unless I had to.”
    Web site? That conjured up an odd and ominous picture of a gauzy web. I didn’t have time to ask for an explanation. “You stay here. I’ll go to the cemetery and see what I can do.”
    Obviously, I didn’t intend to walk. Time was clearly of the essence. I disappeared. Kathleen shuddered. Poor Kathleen. She should be getting the hang of it. I was.
    I landed on a tree above the body. I shivered and and wished I’d brought the red-and-black plaid jacket. Oh, how nice. I welcomed its warmth. I buttoned the front, felt much more