The Realm of the Shadows (Tropical Breeze Cozy Mystery Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

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    Bernie was in mint green today. She was always crisp, clean and coordinated, with the kind of polyester pull-on separates that octogenarian ladies love. She was still wearing her summer sandals, but I noticed she had on mint-green socks, just in case the late-September temperature dipped below 80.
    As she came into the back room she gave me a knowing look with her sharp brown eyes.
    “Come on in, said the fly to the spider,” I said. “Let’s get it over with.”
    She laughed. “The public has a right to know, and you may as well put it into your own words before everybody starts making things up.”
    “Don’t I know it? Pull up a packing box and get your recorder out.”
    She found an old Windsor-back chair and settled herself comfortably, while I hiked a hip up on an old shipping desk we keep pushed into a corner. My whole attitude said this wasn’t going to take long.
    “So, where’s the haunting going on?” she began. “One of the carpenters said it was in the barn. Said Charlie’s pay was good, but nobody paid enough to make him go back into that barn after Charlie came out of it wild-eyed. Just what was it he saw, Taylor, dear? A ghost?”
    She’s so sweet. So innocent. It was impossible to look at that wrinkled old face and suspect that behind it, greased wheels were spinning around just fine – faster than my own, in fact. I’m at least twenty years younger than Bernie, but I wouldn’t match wits with her if there was money on the line.
    When I just raised an eyebrow and looked at her, she went on. “Charlie’s nobody’s fool, you know. If he says he saw something strange, I believe him.”
    “Oh, I believe him. He saw something . Or rather, something seems to have touched him.”
    Bernie shivered deliciously. “It touched him? Oh, this is good!”
    “It brushed over him or something. Anyway, it was broad daylight, and something came at him when he wasn’t looking and brushed against him. Might have been a bird,” I said, suddenly inspired. “They tend to roost in the rafters. But we’re checking it out. For all we know, the problems are being caused by pranksters and our own strung-up nerves. Don’t use Charlie’s name; he’ll never live it down. Just say ‘a workman.’ I know people are going to find out anyway, but let’s not get him mad at us. And you can say that we’ve hired Edson Darby-Deaver.”
    Her eyes gleamed. “So it’s that serious? You really think this is a haunting?”
    “I don’t know what it is, but as you say, Charlie’s no fool. If you like,” I said, having an even better inspiration, “you can interview Darby-Deaver himself, instead of taking it second-hand from me. If he tells you anything too bloody and wild, you check with me first before you print it, though, or this is your last scoop from me.”
    Bernie laughed. “Censoring the press?”
    “Actually that’s not a bad idea. Listen, Bernie, rumors like this can make our lives miserable out there. It could actually make Cadbury House unlivable. You know how silly people can be. I don’t want to find devil-worshippers having black masses in the barn. So keep it real, okay? No unnecessary drama. In return, I promise to let you know what’s actually going on out there, and give Ed permission to talk to you. But I want to get a chance to read anything your write before you publish it, deal?”
    She gave me her “intimidating” look, which on an 85-year old was rather charming.
    “I will not tolerate censorship,” she said finally, “but I will give you a look. You’ll be reasonable, right?”
    “I will if you will.”
    And with that vague compromise, we shook hands. I felt good about it, passing the buck to Ed. When you hire a ghost-hunter, you’re not exactly getting something tangible for your money. You may only be buying peace of mind. The least he could do was keep the press off my back.

Chapter 4
     
    I ran across Locust Street to Don’s Diner and went inside, where the