2 A Different Shade Of Death Read Free

sandwich. Go and sit down at
the kitchen table. Now!”
    Frankie
seemed to deflate, the anger vanished from his eyes. His hand flew to his
forehead and rubbed it. A look of pain flashed across his face. “Sorry, Grace,
I don’t know what came over me. I’ve been feeling a bit off all day.”
    “That’s
okay.” Grace sat him at the kitchen table. She made his tea with decaffeinated
tea bags, he could do with a good sleep. She was almost tempted to crush some
herbal sleeping tablets up into his sandwich. She had a supply in her bag for
the nights when grief kept her awake.
    He
didn’t need the sleeping tablets, his eyes began to droop within minutes. Grace
looked at the kitchen clock, it was only 7 p.m. What had he been doing to
become so tired?
    Frankie
yawned. “Think I’ll have a little nap before I start on those clothes. You
don’t mind, do you?”
    “Course
not. Sleep as long as you like. You can sort the clothes out tomorrow.”
    Grace
helped him to his feet. His back was bent like an old man’s. This wasn’t like
Frankie at all. She even had to help him up the stairs to the room he had
decided to call home - the stock room above the shop. He had furnished it with
a bed and wardrobe and was quite happy living there. Grace helped him on to the
bed, his eyes were almost closed.
    Frankie
gave her a tired smile and said, “Thanks, sis.”
    Grace
turned the light out. She could hear his snores even before she left the room.
    Anger
flared up in her. She marched down the stairs and back into the shop. She
stormed over to the rack of clothes and held up a shaking finger. She hissed,
“Come out, whoever you are. You’ve got some explaining to do!”
    The
ghost of a man stepped out of a jacket. He sneered as he looked Grace up and
down. The anger in his eyes was the same as the anger that she’d seen in
Frankie’s eyes earlier.
    He
folded his arms, his smile was mocking. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m the one
who’s in charge. You’re going to do exactly as I say.”
     

Chapter 5
     
    The
man stepped forward, he looked around the shop in an appraising manner.
    Grace
took the chance to study him. He looked to be in his late thirties, maybe early
forties. It was obvious from his well fitted suit that he’d had money. His hair
was well cut and styled, his clean shaven faced showed handsome features.
Although the condescending look that he now wore lessened any attractiveness.
    He
walked past Grace as if she didn’t exist. He strolled around the shop,
examining everything as he went. Grace heard him mumbling to himself.
     At
one point he took his mobile phone out and looked at it. Surely he couldn’t be
receiving messages?
    He
came back to Grace. He waved his arm in the general direction of the shop and
said, “What a load of old rubbish.”
    “It’s
supposed to be old, there are some antiques here,” Grace said. She was biding
her time, she wasn’t sure what this ghost was up to yet.
    He
gave a laugh of derision. “I know that, it’s still a load of rubbish. Needs
clearing out, the lot of it. Who’s going to buy tat like this? You can get
better stuff at the market. I’m surprised you still have a business. Whoever’s
running this business is obviously an idiot.”
    Still
keeping calm Grace replied, “This is a family business, run by me and my
brother. We’re doing well, we’re making a profit.”
    The
man smirked as Grace spoke. She was finding it harder to remain calm.
    He
shook his head as if speaking to a child. “This isn’t a proper business. You
need something that will make money fast, something that people want, something
that they will pay a lot of money for.”
    Grace
folded her arms and looked away from him.
    “You
know I’m right,” he went on. “That’s why I’m here. That’s why I made that young
man buy my old clothes.”
    Grace’s
head turned back so quick she thought she heard it crack. “You made Frankie buy
your clothes? How? What did you do?”
    Grace
had