Ghosts Beneath Us: A Third Spookie Town Murder Mystery (Spookie Town Murder Mysteries Book 3) Read Free

elderly with big run-down houses. They find a way in, through a broken basement window or something, and do whatever mischief they want to do, then sneak out.”
    Myrtle had tilted up her mug and was draining the final drops, making smacking noises with her lips. “Could I have one more cup of that coffee, sweetie, and maybe a few more of those tasty donuts?”
    “This time help yourself. You know where everything is,” she said, stopping the swing’s movement. “I’ll wait here for you.”
    Somewhere in the distance Abigail heard a cat meowing. It didn’t sound like Snowball. It must be one of the felines that belonged to the animal hoarder who lived behind her in the woods. Myrtle’s sister Evelyn. That woman was as odd as Myrtle but in different ways. Last count Evelyn had over fifty dogs and cats squatting in and around her house. Some nights Abigail could hear every one of them.
    The old woman wasn’t gone long. This time she had a handful of donuts clutched in a napkin and her refilled mug in the other. She plopped down and picked up in their conversation where they’d left off. “You asked how Beatrice knows they are ghosts? Oh, she swears they are. She saw one of them last night in the basement when she went down there to see about the commotion.”
    “She really saw a ghost?”
    “Tall white wispy thing that stared at her and then,” Myrtle snapped her sugar-covered fingers in the air, “ poof dematerialized! Beatrice said she nearly had a heart attack. The thing was definitely not friendly. She said the apparition, looking like a transparent starved ship-wrecked survivor, wailed at her and tried to knock her down. It went right through her like air.”
    Yeah sure. Tackled by a ghost. “But you think Beatrice is nuts, right?”
    “Nuts about some things, not this. I believe she saw what she says she saw. She doesn’t have enough imagination to make up something like that. Just my opinion, mind you.”
    “So you believe her?”
    “Of course. Heck, I see spooks all the time. You know that. They’re all shapes and sizes, some good, some bad and some just plain evil. They’re here all right. Everywhere.”
    “Okay, what exactly am I supposed to do about these manifestations? I’m not a ghost whisperer or a ghost buster and neither is Frank. Shouldn’t she call a priest or an exorcist or something?”
    “Beatrice isn’t a religious person, if you know what I mean. She wants you and Frank to come over to her house and check it out. Solve the mystery and find a way to get rid of them spirits. You two are first-rate at fixing things. She’s expecting you. Evenings is best, but no later than eight o’clock because that’s when she goes to bed. Most nights anyway. I have her telephone number. Here.” She pulled a scrap of paper from a pocket in her dress and gave it to Abigail. “Call her. Soon. Otherwise she’ll keep on bugging the jeepers out of me.”
    Abigail knew better than to argue with her. Once Myrtle got something, no matter how bizarre, in her head nothing would change her mind. Just wait until she told Frank about this. Myrtle wanted them to scare some ghosts away or arrest them or something. He’d get a good laugh out of it.
    “I have to get going. It’s trash day at the Tranquility Nursing Home and I always take a look to see if anyone’s died there. When any of those old folks croak the families sometimes toss all their valuables out in the trash, not wanting to bother with them. You should see the treasures I pull out of those dumpsters. What a waste. So I make sure I go there before the trash trucks come by.”
    Myrtle stood up. “Be sure to call Beatrice. She’s one frightened old lady. I know you and Frank will get to the bottom of it, whatever the problem is. See you later Abigail.”  Myrtle was up and shuffling across the front yard, reclaiming the battered wagon she’d left in the driveway. Then the morning silence was filled with her raspy voice singing an old