A Wicked Whack: Mad River Mystery Series, #1

By Constance Barker

Shelby Whitaker spends her days in period costumes and chatting with the dead. Life inside Mad River Olde Town reenactment village comes alive literally for Shelby who thinks of the Civil War Era ghosts as her friends.

But when a reenactment actor is murdered with one of the town’s tools, it’s up to Shelby and her spirit friends to discover the fiend that hides among them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Constance Barker
• Release date: Jul 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536586251

Constance Barker

Constance Barker lives in the Midwest with her husband and two Akitas where she can look out from her screened porch onto a wooded area brimming with activity. Since she was a young girl she read mysteries, often given to her by her grandmother. She loved figuring out who the culprit was and sometimes she was right and other times startled at who the author picked as the assailant. Now she enjoys writing mysteries herself. When she isn't writing stories, she can be found in her favorite vacation spot, Las Vegas or shopping for bargains.

Book preview

Chapter One

Good luck, Whitaker.  You're going to need it.

I jumped.  The call of my name had matched the thud of a biblical-sized stack of papers hitting the desk in front of me by Matthew Sharp.  Instead of reading the manual, I found myself distracted.  I gazed up at the old sepia-stained photographs on the wall which faced me; men and women dressed in stark contrast to my co-workers' jeans and cardigans.  I wondered if the person I heard call my name was staring back at me from one of them.  The women looked exhausted, likely stifling from their knee length layered skirts.  However, there was something about the strapping men in their uniforms that made me yearn for days past.  Civil War staples had surrounded me for a year at Mad River Old Town, the reenactment village outside of Charleston WV, but this was the first time I ever thought such a thing.  I internally laughed.  You couldn't date a ghost, Shelby no matter how well tailored their pants looked.

You heard me right.  Since I was little, I have spoken with the dead face-to-face.  It used to scare me, but the more I listened, the more insight I realized I could gain.  Sometimes it was a gift that didn't stop giving.  Peace and quiet was hard to come by when the dead never seemed to stay rested.  My mother was good at making sure I'd be comfortable with the background chatter.  She dealt with the same abilities all her life.  Without her, I, Shelby Whitaker would have been worse off.  I am still disappointed, even after she tragically departed four years ago, I still have not found her.  As my mid-twenties approached, I realized I could still use her being here for a multitude of reasons.  She died when I was twenty-one.  It seemed like it happened forever ago, but I can still remember her being here like it was yesterday.

I had a feeling that today was not going to be my day.  Mad River Old Town's staff and the new battle reenactment recruits filed into the lounge buzzing with excitement.  Having spent a year in a tiny little office of this place emailing and talking on the phone about it, I should have been as exuberant as they were, because I was going to be very much a part of the action this year.  Now I was just anxious.  A few of the spirits had stumbled into the administrative office occasionally.  I met some when I occasionally ate lunch at the picnic tables near the stables, but I had a sneaky suspicion that I hadn't met all of them yet.  That voice was the first indication.

Matthew handed out the personalized job manuals as people grabbed seats at the tables.  I reconsidered looking at mine. 

Hey Shelby.  How are you?

I looked up to see my friend Nick Simmons had sat down next to me at my table.  He smiled widely at me, his piercing blue eyes locked with mine.  Unlike the men in the photographs, Nick was very much alive.  His sandy blonde hair tucked neatly behind his ears.  His jeans were better tailored then most men of the present day.  I hated to think this man who'd been my friend for so long could make me feel like a pile of jello.  There was no time for this.  He awaited a response.

You okay? he asked.

I'd been staring off into space again, for all the wrong reasons.

Great.  Just, perfect.  I lied.

Focus on the important tasks, Whitaker.  You've got a lot still left to prove and a boy isn't going to help.

The mysterious voice emerged again, this time paired with cheeky chuckling.  It sounded male and older, but I wasn't sure.  The voice was right.  This job was going to be difficult to focus on.  Between Nick sitting nearby and a ghost that was not going to make its presence readily known, I had no idea what I was going to do.  I really wished my Mom were still around for times like these.

I gazed around the room.  Everyone seemed to be engrossed and perplexed by their own manuals.  Where was that voice hiding?  Good luck, Whitaker?  Ha.  I could do this.  I could so do this!  Weaving?  Carding wool?  No sweat.  I was going to be the best head of textiles Mad River Old Town had ever seen.  I'd left administration in the dust a year ago.  I needed bigger things and now I had them with being the head of textiles for Mad River Old Town.  I turned to see Eliana giving me funny looks. 

Shelby, you listening?

That was a human voice and a stern one at that.  I looked up to see Matthew standing across from me trying to get my attention.  The room had settled and it seemed he had mentioned my name.  Naturally, I happened to look like a total space case.  This happened more often than not.

Textiles require focus, Shelby.  We could use some of that from you right now as I talk about the weekend.

Jenny Tuckerman leaned in to me for a whisper, Don't worry about it, dear.  Matthew's very...passionate...about the battle sequence.

Jenny reassured me as usual.  She was as sweet as the cookies she always baked for staff parties.  She radiated positive vibrations wherever she went.  I knew she would be back on cooking this year.  Food was her passion.  If I got stuck, unsure of how to prepare for this weekend, I knew she would be the first to step-up. 

I tried to follow Matthew giving the background on the battle and where the schedule would be going.  His wife Calinda joined him in commiserating on history.  Calinda was a passionate speaker.  You could almost tell by looking at her that she was smart.  It was only fitting that she played the town's librarian within the village.  Though rather frail, she stood tall next to Matthew, who on appearance couldn't seem to match her information.  She talked so fast that sometimes it was difficult to keep up.  I understand what it's like to have your mind run at a hundred miles per hour.

As both of them spoke I looked to see Jessamine Cartwright, one of the younger ghosts at an eternal age of 19, had taken a seat on the rickety desk and was somewhat listening as well.  She was so close to Matthew, she could have played with the very hair on his head and it would have only felt like an out of place breeze to him.  She looked like she could laugh with that sly smirk across her face.  No one would hear her but me.

Matthew needs to lighten up.  It's not like he actually experienced that battle! I laughed, only this time out loud. 

Matthew shot me another look of disapproval, Something funny?  I shook my head.

I'll make that out of place breeze happen if you want, Jessamine said to me.  I forgot ghosts could hear inside my head sometimes.  She kicked her legs up and down, her petticoat and stocking covered legs brushing the inside of the desk.

Eliana is such a snob.  She thinks she's too good for this simply because she was in one episode of Days of Our Lives.

I looked over to Eliana Sharp, who appeared far too glamorous among the small town folk.  She was attentive to every word Matthew, her father, spoke.  Everyone knew she wanted to be a serious actress, but a failed marriage to a big time producer made it difficult to continue.  I felt bad for her.

Don't feel bad for her, Shelby.  You're going to do great and that's what counts.  You've got great support from the people around you.

Phineas Cartwright, Jessamine's young dead husband, strolled into the middle of the room.  He looked directly at me, while he danced around Matthew, light on his feet like a feather.  He stopped, deep in thought and scratched his scruffy beard.

I think your friend Nick really likes you, he told me.  A cheeky smirk had spread across this face.  Stick with him, Shelby.  He has a good head on his shoulders.  An officer of the law is a good man to have around here.

I gulped hard at the thought.  Ghosts were prone to tricks.  Earth bound spirits were prone to sporadic boredom.  Why else would Phineas tell me such a thing?  I knew I needed to focus though.

Phineas, ease up.  You're going to start trouble, Jessamine called out to him.  Listen, Shelby, you follow your heart when it comes to what you want.  I did and still to this very day I don't regret it at all.  We'll leave you alone if that's what you need.

I thought it was important need to know information.  It's the equivalent to Tobias telling your sister Marie I liked you.

I watched Phineas and Jessamine bicker over the trivial thought they brought to light.  I turned to see Nick, who'd been paying attention more than I