Yesterday's Ghosts: YESTERDAY'S MYSTERIES, #3

By Sam Cheever

The ghosts of the past rarely remain there. Not when the future holds so much possibility for them.

When a local man turns up dead at the Apple Blossom Festival Ball, Anna and Pratt discover the man had been writing a tell-all book that outed the sins of a good portion of Crocker's residents. So when the local cops set out to find the killer, it makes sense to enlist the help of ex big city detective Pratt Davies. Pratt's new in town and therefore one of the few who should be unaffected by the book and able to deal subjectively with the myriad suspects surrounding the murder. But Pratt and Anna quickly learn nobody's beyond this particular gossip's range. In fact, it's possible Pratt's on the suspect list himself. Along with just about everybody else in Crocker!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Electric Prose Publications
• Release date: Oct 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781944243265

Sam Cheever

Nobody really cares that Sam Cheever is a USA Today Bestselling Author. Nobody cares that she’s written a whole ton of fun and snappy books. Let’s face it, the most interesting thing about Sam is the fact that she’s a dogaholic. Yeah, there’s no Dogaholic’s Anonymous chapter that can help her. Believe me, she’s looked. So Sam deals with her problem the best way she knows how. She digs into the mountains of personal experiences (mostly involving dog poo) to write GREAT dog characters. Oh, and there are some people in her books too. She’s also pretty good at those. Want to ask Sam about her dogs…erm…books? You can connect with her at one of the following places. Just don’t ask her why she has 16 dogs. Nobody in the whole wide world can answer that. NEWSLETTER: Join Sam's Monthly newsletter and get a FREE book! You can also keep up with her appearances, enjoy monthly contests, and get previews of her upcoming work! http://www.samcheever.com/newsletter.html TEXT NEWS ALERTS: Or if you'd rather not receive a monthly newsletter, you can sign up for text alerts and just receive a brief text when Sam's launching a new release or appearing somewhere fun. Just text SAMNEWS to 781-728-9542 to be added! ONLINE HOT SPOTS: To find out more about Sam and her work, please pay her a visit at any one of the following online hot spots: Her blog: http://www.samcheever.com/blog; Twitter: http://twitter.com/samcheever; and Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SamCheeverAuthor. She looks forward to chatting with you! She has a technique for scooping poop that she knows you’re just DYING to learn about.

Book preview

THE GHOSTS OF THE PAST rarely remain there. Not when the future holds so much possibility for them.

When a local man turns up dead at the Apple Blossom Festival Ball, Anna and Pratt discover the man had been writing a tell-all book that outed the sins of a good portion of Crocker’s residents. So when the local cops set out to find the killer, it makes sense to enlist the help of ex big city detective Pratt Davies. Pratt’s new in town and therefore one of the few who should be unaffected by the book and able to deal subjectively with the myriad suspects surrounding the murder. But Pratt and Anna quickly learn nobody’s beyond this particular gossip’s range. In fact, it’s possible Pratt’s on the suspect list himself. Along with just about everybody else in Crocker!

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Glossary of Terms

SINCE JOSS AND BESS are from America’s colorful past, I thought it might be good to provide a glossary of the colloquialisms they use in the text of this book. Some of them don’t require explanation. I haven’t included those, but the more interesting ones certainly could use a little clarification. Even within context, the meanings of some of the following terms can’t be easily ascertained.

Ace-High: Excellent

All-overish: uncomfortable

At sea: Not understanding

Balled up: Confused

Beat the devil around a stump: to avoid doing something

Cap the climax: beat all

Catch a weasel asleep: Impossible or unlikely

Colder than a wagon tire: Dead

Curly Wolf: A tough guy

Doggery: A cheap drinking establishment

Fyst: A worthless dog, a mongrel

Game: To have courage

Grum: gloomy

Like a book: To speak with a large vocabulary

Likely: Attractive

No great shakes: Not important

Pucker: In a state of anger

Puke: A person from Missouri

Someone to ride the river with: A person you can trust

Shiner: Gold coin

Skeery: Frightened, nervous

Swan: swear

Wrathy: to be angry

CHAPTER ONE

YESTERDAY, 1859

Lissie Bickershaw stepped out of her room at the Crocker Inn, her heart fluttering with excitement in her chest. She clutched her beaded reticule close, her fingers restlessly testing the weight at the bottom. A smile tugged the corners of her lips upward when she felt them...the jewels she’d sewn into the small bag before leaving home. She fully intended to share them with her new husband, Felix Bickershaw, though her own father had beseeched her not to. She was only waiting for the perfect moment to do it. A moment when they were comfortably ensconced in their new home.

She placed a hand on her roiling stomach, pushing back a slight queasiness she told herself was just nerves. Once they were in their beautiful new home, she would give him the bounty she carried with her. Something that she hoped would make her devastatingly handsome husband cherish her above all things.

A door down the hallway opened and Lissie turned her gaze hopefully in that direction. A heavily painted saloon girl stepped out of the room, tugging the frilly bodice of her scandalous dress higher on her breasts. The woman eyed Lissie and then swung her gaze toward the stairway just past where Lissie waited, two lines furrowing the painted surface between her eyes.

Lissie recognized the problem. In order for the strumpet to get to the stairs, she would have to brush past Lissie, a high born lady.

But Lissie was a country miss, not used to high falutin’ ways, so she smiled at the girl and stepped back until her heels touched the door behind her. Go on past. I’m just waiting for my husband, Mr. Bickershaw, to fetch me for supper.

The woman averted her gaze and, clutching the frilled hem of her horrible dress, moved quickly past. Her hand brushed up against Lissie’s skirts as she went and she stopped, her painted lips opening in a gasp.

I swan, I never meant to touch your dress, Lady. It were purely a mistake.

Lissie shook her head. Pay no never mind. She offered the girl—standing close to her Lissie saw that she was very young—a smile and reached out to touch her pale arm. You’ve done no harm.

The girl’s eyes widened at the kindness and she chewed her painted lip with surprisingly good teeth. It’s a likely dress for sure, Lady.

Lissie’s smile widened with pleasure. She grasped the skirt of her new dress and pulled it away in a play curtsy. Thank ye kindly, miss.

The girl giggled, shaking her head.

Have you seen him? My husband? Lissie asked the girl softly.

I couldn’t tell ya, Lady. The girl pointed toward the door she just exited. I’ve been with the one who’s like a book. He’s a grum one, that’s certain. But he’s free with the shiners for all that. She shrugged and, tossing Lissie a shy smile, turned away and headed toward the stairs.

Lissie was left standing there feeling uncomfortable. Before going down to drink with the men in the bar, Felix had promised he’d be up for her on the hour. She’d hurried with her toilette to ensure she wasn’t late. But, though she was certain she was right on schedule, Felix wasn’t there.

She glanced toward her closed door, considering ducking back inside until he arrived.

A door opened down the way and Lissie turned, her eyes widening and her hand flying to cover her mouth. A pair of dark eyes, filled with a venom that made Lissie’s blood run cold, rooted her to the spot.

What are you clutching so close in that reticule, Mrs. Bickershaw? Hand it over and let me give it a look.

Present Day

Anna sat behind the counter of Yesterday’s Antiques and watched her two favorite men bicker over the positioning of a new settee she’d asked them to place in the store. Actually, one favorite man and one favorite ghost, though Josselin Zebediah had a life force nearly as big as hers. He just didn’t have a corporeal body to go with it.

Pratt Davies, her sexy assistant in the antiques store, shoved the settee a few inches closer to the wall and turned it away from the deadly rays of the sun. At well over six feet, with dark brown hair that he wore military short, golden brown eyes, thick lashes, a strong nose, a broad jaw, and full lips, Pratt wasn’t hard at all to look at and Anna found his presence in her store a daily distraction that she enjoyed very much.

His nemesis had long, muscular legs and broad shoulders, dark blond hair under a well-worn cowboy hat and intense dark blue eyes. That ain’t right, Puke, Joss told him heatedly. It makes the place look like a doggery.

Well, that’s too bad, spook. The sun’s bad for the wood and the fabric. You’re just gonna have to live with it.

The light fixture above their heads flickered and Anna thought about stepping into the fight. But then Bones, the resident mouse catcher and equal opportunity hater, jumped up onto the settee and spat at both of them before settling into a perfect, orange spiral dead center in the seat.

Well don’t that just cap the climax, Joss muttered grumpily.

Pratt glared down at the cranky feline. Don’t think I won’t move this thing with your fat butt on it, cat.

The two shared a smile at Pratt’s threat and, just like that, the uneasy truce they’d been attempting to keep since they’d met a few days earlier dropped back into place.

You should go home and get ready for the ball, Pratt. Anna closed the record book she’d been pretending to peruse while she watched them bicker and looked up just in time to see him grimace.

Joss shoved his hat back on his head, grinning smugly. Why so grum, Puke? You got them fancy duds and all.

Pratt threw Joss a glare and headed toward Anna with a scowl on his handsome face. I can’t believe you’re making me go to this thing.

Anna pressed her lips together to hold back a grin. It’s business, Pratt. She grabbed the garment bag he’d draped over the counter earlier. Besides, I don’t know what you’re worried about, you’re going to look very handsome in this suit. She handed the bag to him and smiled. I picked it out just for you.

If that’s an attempt to make me feel guilty for grousing... his glower softened as he shook his head. It’s working. Dammit.

Anna laughed. Good. I promise I’ll make it up to you. Besides, you might even have fun.

He hooked a finger through the hanger and dropped the bag over his shoulder. You can start making it up to me by saving me at least one dance tonight.

Anna’s belly warmed with pleasure at the thought. Deal. That’s an easy promise.

They shared a smile that ended when Bones flew straight up from the settee, hissing and twisting around to smack the air where Joss had been a moment earlier. All his orange fur stood on end like somebody had stuck his tail into a light socket.

Stop torturing Bones! Anna yelled.

Above their heads, the ceiling light flickered as Joss showed his displeasure.

Despite Joss’s jealousy, Anna couldn’t help the smile that slipped across her face as she watched Pratt leave. Their recent battle with an angry spirit and an even angrier killer had brought all the feelings they’d been dancing around to the surface and, for the first time since Pratt had arrived at Yesterday’s Antiques, Anna almost believed they had a chance at something good together.

Unfortunately, the feeling wasn’t shared by the other inhabitants of her little shop. Namely one cowboy and one saloon girl from the early 1800s.

Said saloon girl popped into view a moment later as Anna was counting the day’s receipts.

Anna felt the cool wash of air across her neck and looked around. Hey, Bess. I haven’t seen you all day. What have you been up to?

The cranky specter frowned. I reckon that’s none o’ your concern.

Anna simply nodded. She was looking forward to the evening’s events too much to let Bess’s churlish temperament ruin her day. Did you happen to see Joss in the attic? He left in a tizzy and I need to talk to him.

When Bess didn’t respond, Anna turned to find her staring toward the ceiling with a speculative expression. Bess? Is something wrong?

The ghost shrugged. Some folks is just offish, is all.

Anna closed the drawer to the antique cash register and turned to Bess. Joss is a bit cranky because Pratt and I...well... Anna felt her face heat and busied herself tucking cash into a money bag. Just try to be nice to him. He’ll happy up soon enough.

Bess looked at her like she’d lost her mind and then, made a disgusted sound with her lips. It ain’t no great shakes to a curly wolf like Joss that the puke’s got designs on you. She shook her head. ’Sides, Jossy and me got bigger problems right now.

She popped away, leaving Anna more confused than she’d started. Shaking her head, Anna locked the front door and turned the Open sign to Closed. 

She headed into the back room to grab the antique ball gown she’d found for the ball at the Bickershaw Museum. She couldn’t wait to get home and try it on.

SITTING OUTSIDE THE store in his car, Pratt stared into space as the phone rang in his ear. It had been way too long since he’d checked in on his partner, Pam Rogers. Unfortunately, worry about what Morticia would tell him always caused a ball of dread to tighten in his chest. At the sound of Morticia’s husky voice on the other end of the line, the knot of dread loosened.

Hello?

’Ticia. It’s Pratt.

Hey there! How are you? And how’s Anna? Wait, you aren’t calling to tell me that angry spirit is back are you?

Not at all. I’m actually calling to see how Pam’s doing. It’s been a while since I checked in.

I’m so glad you asked.

Pratt’s pulse spiked. Is she all right?

Oh, yes, she’s doing very well. In fact, I’ve been thinking that it’s time for you to see her again.

Panic flared. Pratt forced himself to take deep breaths.

You’re panicking aren’t you?

No. Pratt frowned. Maybe a little. What if seeing me sends her into a tailspin. I’d never forgive myself if I was the cause of Pam regressing.

Officer Rogers is much stronger than you think, Pratt. And there’s something else.

Pratt heard paper shifting nearby. His mind’s eye pictured Morticia sliding wire framed readers up her slim nose.

Listen to this. ‘I find myself sifting through shadows all day, unsure where my place in all of it is anymore. I feel adrift in a condition between the seen and unseen, knowing I have a spot in both worlds. I’ve come to realize lately that, until I figure out my status, I won’t be comfortable anywhere.’

Where did that come from, ’Ticia?

Pam wrote it. She’s keeping a daily journal and part of our sessions involves her sharing it with me. Just the portion she’s comfortable with. We had a session this morning and she shared that with me. She asked if she could see you Pratt. I think it makes sense.

Though he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea, Pratt trusted his friend’s judgement. If you think she’s strong enough then I’ll do it. I can’t come to Saint Louis until next week though.

No problem. I’ll bring Pam to you in Crocker. We’ll come tomorrow.

PRATT TUGGED AT THE tie around his throat, grimacing. The last time he’d worn a tie was when he’d gone to his friend, Bo’s wedding two years earlier. And he swore then that he’d never wear one again. Yet there he was. He swallowed hard, feeling like he was being strangled slowly to death. Then the door across the room opened and Pratt forgot all about his tie.

Anna glided in looking like an angel in soft pink. The dress bloomed out around her, sweeping the floor as she moved, and skimmed the tops of her pale shoulders in frothy lace. She spotted him and waved, moving quickly across the large room with a wide smile on her face.

Watching her approach, Pratt’s pulse kicked up several notches. Her long, blonde hair was pulled up into some kind of intricate knot, with soft tendrils cascading down her back and around her face. Her eyes sparkled as she approached and her cheeks were tinted a pretty pink.

She wore elbow-high white gloves and held a fan in one hand, which she opened and lifted as she stopped in front of him, coyly fluttering her eyelashes. Good evening, kind sir. You look dashing.

Pratt lifted the long tails of his coat and bowed, grinning up at her. Miss Yesterday, you look scrumptious. So good in fact that I’m almost glad I came tonight.

She laughed, smacking him on the arm with her fan. Didn’t Vance do an amazing job with the place? She glanced happily around. "I have to admit if I didn’t know there was a stable beneath our feet, I’d think