Bad Man, Bad Ghost

By Nance Newman

Finding clues in the shoes of a dead man in a coffin wasn’t what Quinn thought she would do when she became a mortician. She also didn’t expect the bodies that entered her funeral home to have lived their lives as bad men or to whisper their requests to her—not only demands that she has to fulfill to get them to stop, but ones that might lead her to commit acts on the wrong side of the law.

The spirit of a mob boss has entered Quinn O’Reilly’s funeral parlor and his whispers drag her into a world of criminals, secrets and lies. Once again, she enlists the help of her friends—Andjela, a communicator with the dead, Mr. Princeton, a professor of Egyptian studies at the local university, Chester, the owner of the town cemetery and Chaz, her best friend and assistant—to find the clues that will lead her to what the dead man wants. She realizes that she can’t answer the whispers alone which force her to put her friends in danger.

Soon she finds it’s not only the dead Mafia boss that wants something from her, but so does his wife, his mistress and strange, dark men in dark suits.

To make matters worse, Quin is realizing that the whispers of spirits aren’t going to go away. Neither is the specter that still haunts her apartment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nance Newman
• Release date: Feb 7, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370565269

Nance Newman

I firmly believe it is never too late to make your dreams a reality.I worked at Eastman Kodak in Motion Picture film for over twenty years before the company started to downgrade. After that, I was a teacher in Health and Physical Education and completed my years of work in a school district in transportation where I used software to solve the puzzle of getting 5600 students to many different schools as well as train new bus drivers.I am now retired—from work, but not from writing!I have always been a writer, and always will be. Since high school, I have written songs, novels, short stories, and journals. I have one dog—Ela-who is a rescue from the Puerto Rican hurricanes. She has taught me a little Spanish and I have taught her a lot of English.I enjoy being active outdoors in all seasons and partake in many different activities from kayaking, long distance biking, a lot of walks and hiking to gardening. I also love movies—most genres, but especially fantasy and science fiction.Most of all I love to write and tell stories.Please visit me at nancenewman.com because I would love to share my stories and music with you

Book preview

Bad Man,

Bad Ghost

Book Two in the Whispers Series

By Nance Newman

Bad Man, Bad Ghost

Copyright 2016 by Nance Newman

Edited by Heather Flournoy

Cover Design: Pixel Studios

First Printing-December 2016

NTL Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

To you…the reader. Thank-you for taking the time to read my story. I love to write and bring my ideas to life on the written page. I hope you enjoy it.

To my mom, my best friend—thank-you for always being there. For always listening. For always accepting. For all the times we laugh. For throwing the ball for Charlie and not getting too mad at him when he stares at you and whines. For opening your heart and your home to me. I will always be there for you.

To De and Genine—my first line of defense. Thank-you for reading the unedited, messy versions of my books. For giving me your honest ideas and suggestions. And thanks, Genine for continuing to be my grammar police. You are true friends and the best fans!!

Thank-you Georgia for the suggestions and tweaks that have helped to improve my books to be the best they can be. Your friendship and knowledge means more than you know.

Many thanks to William Gray, a funeral director in Kingston, NY with whom I had a very fun and informative conversation with on the way to New York City (thanks for the lift too!!) You gave me valuable insight on how a funeral home, and the dead work. I hope we get to talk again.

Chapter One

Not again, I said out loud in exasperation.

I walked down the plush carpeted hall decorated in muted colors of greens and blues meant to project comfort and peace, yet here I was listening to doors slamming, objects crashing. The shadow cast on the wall by the early morning sun from the windows in Chaz’s office told me he was at his desk. I stopped at the door and peeked my head inside. A thin wire hanging down the front of Chaz’s chest clued me in that ear buds kept him from hearing me enter his office. His large-framed body was rocking back and forth in his desk chair. Every now and then he would swing his hands from side to side with closed eyes and pucker up his mouth, obviously with the beat that was inspiring him. He appeared to be oblivious to the ethereal sounds recently filling my funeral home.

I waited for him to notice me but he was totally swept away into the place where music can take you—out of reality and into the song. So, I joined him. I started to dance to my own beat and waltzed into his office. At some point he had to sense I was there. That’s how it was with us. He just knew when I was around even if he didn’t see me, but this time, his music seemed to overpower his sense of me.

I stopped dancing, crossed my arms, and waited until the song was done. After a moment or two Chaz opened his eyes and jumped at the sight of me. I broke out in laughter. There was something funny about scaring a six foot four, solidly built, gay black man.

It’s about time. I’ve been dancing in front of your desk just about the entire length of whatever song had you in Somewhere Else Land.

Chaz put his hand over his heart. Girl, you scared the shit out of me! His voice totally betrayed his appearance. It was smooth with a rather high intonation for such a large, muscular man.

I know. I smiled and plopped down in the comfy guest chair placed strategically on the other side of his desk. The chair was angled to face Chaz but had a view out the side window of a yellow magnolia tree and gardens overstuffed with colorful perennials that Matthew and I had planted when I first opened the funeral home. It was a lot of backbreaking work, but the results were breathtaking in the spring when the various perennials boasted pink, purple, and yellow offerings. In the fall, vibrant red graced the burning bushes and trees were canvases splattered with autumn leaves in orange, yellow, and red.

Are we all set for Tony’s funeral?

I just placed the last flower arrangement.

The noises I heard in the hall stopped, which was pretty typical of the past two days. The banging, clattering, crashes, and thumps came and went as quickly as a summer breeze.

Chaz?

Yes, Boss?

Stop calling me ‘Boss.’

Yes, ma’am.

You can be such a pill. Don’t call me ‘ma’am’ either.

He laughed. Okay, Quinn. I’m sorry, but you know what they say about payback?

No, what? I challenged.

Oh, never mind, he said with a wave of his hand. What do you need?

It’s not what I need. I leaned forward and produced a wide grin. It’s what I can do for you.

You mean now that you’re a wealthy funeral director who has no bills and owns lots of property and has her business loan totally paid off?

I leaned back. That’d be right.

We both laughed. For me, it was a bittersweet laugh.

Matthew died a year ago from colon cancer. Even though it crept up on him, we thought he was going to beat it so I never asked him about a will. Why would I? I didn’t want him to die. He didn’t want to die. But he did and left me with no protection to fight off his parents for everything we had built together. We weren’t married. There was no will.

There was just Matthew trying to reach me from beyond his grave.

It took my neighbor Mr. Princeton and his friend Andjela, a communicator with the dead, to bring Matthew’s message from the afterlife to me. His message led me to his own lawyer, one I knew nothing about, who informed me about Matthew’s grand plan. He had left everything to me, and by everything I don’t just mean money, possessions, and properties. He also left me with the so-called gift of hearing the whispers of the dead.

Chaz grew serious. I’m sorry I doubted him. I never should have.

As bad as it got, I always knew there was a reason for it all, I said, admiring the view out the window. And even if nothing ever got resolved and Matthew’s parents took it all, it wouldn’t have mattered. I knew he loved me. He wouldn’t have purposely left me in that predicament.

Well, he loved you enough to reach out from the afterlife and save your financial ass.

Yes, he sure did.

I still have a hard time believing it all happened. Speaking of ghosts and such, have you heard from Andjela?

Andjela had given me permission to call her Andie, but she hadn’t extended it to Chaz. I wasn’t sure if it was just to annoy him or she simply didn’t feel comfortable with him enough to allow him to use her nickname. Either way, I tried not to use Andie when he was around so he didn’t feel left out. I wasn’t always successful.

Andjela? No not since she was here the other day. She wanted to see the place so I took her on a tour. I smiled. She wanted to see downstairs first.

Well, that would be more of her area of interest since she works with them.

I chuckled. Yeah, what a business to be in. It’s one thing to embalm them, make them look pretty and lay them in a coffin, then put them in the ground; it’s another to talk to them afterward.

Is that something you go to school for?

You’re such a turd.

So what did she think of the downstairs? Did she get any vibes?

As a matter of fact, she did.

Ah, come on. You’re just saying that.

No, I’m not. Haven’t you heard the noises around here since Tony arrived?

Noises? What noises? I thought I saw Chaz’s chocolate skin turn a little milky. Chaz’s stature was tough, resilient, but sometimes he could be a real chicken.

When I took her down there, the lights went out. I got one of the flashlights and found her in the freezer room. The door to Tony’s freezer had been opened and she was standing in front of it.

No! he breathed out. What happened?

She said Tony was mad. That’s when the noises began. You’re sure you haven’t heard anything?

No, I haven’t. What kind of noises?

Your typical moaning, groaning, doors slamming, objects crashing.

Typical, my ass. Nothing about that woman is typical. So did she say what Tony’s mad about?

She said we had to find out.

Chaz waved his finger back and forth in front of him. Uh, uh, uh, girlfriend. Not happening.

That’s what I said. I closed the freezer door and took her back upstairs. I think she was a little offended, but I gently told her I didn’t want to bring all that—especially the specters—into my funeral home. Bad for business, you know?

No kidding. I know we deal with the dead, but they’re, you know…dead.

Again, I chuckled. Yes, and I’d like them to stay that way, but it looks like Tony has other ideas. I’ve been hearing whispers again and I think it’s him.

Great. Maybe it’s time for me to look for another profession, like an outfit designer. Chaz swooshed his hand down the front of him. "You know, girl, no one can dress like me. I could take an ad out in the Gay Alliance newspaper."

Chaz.

He grinned. Okay girlfriend, back to what brought you into my office. What is it you can do for me?

How about a big fat raise?

How fat?

Bordering obese.

Really?

I wanted Chaz to know how serious I was. I leaned forward and placed my small, pale hand over his large, brown one. I always marveled at the sight of my hand and his together. It was a portrait of our friendship. I wanted to take a picture of it and have it painted for him as a gift and a thank you for everything this giant and gentle man had done for me. He was a friend, protector, and confidant. He had been by my side through the last year of the most implausible happenings anyone could have ever experienced. What with good ghosts and bad ghosts and Matthew getting a message to me from the afterlife giving me ammunition to fight off his parents from taking everything away from me…you had to be a special kind of person to put up with all of that.

The raise would show him my appreciation in one way, the portrait in another. I made a mental note to have James, his partner, secretly take a picture of our hands together in the near future.

I pulled a piece of paper out of my pocket and slid it face down across his desk, then I stood up. This is the least I can do. I love you, you big teddy bear.

Ah, shucks. Now I’m gonna have to put my new career on hold. He waited politely, I knew, for me to leave before he would look at the paper. But he did smile at me. Thanks, Boss.

As I walked out of Chaz’s office I called back to him, Quit calling me ‘Boss.’

I purposely ambled down the hall so I could hear his reaction. A girlish, giddy scream came from the direction of Chaz’s office. I knew it wasn’t Tony. The smile Chaz’s celebratory shriek brought to me could not be wiped away—until I walked into my office.

I jumped, feeling my heart skip a beat at the sight of a woman sitting in front of my desk. I never heard her come in. I didn’t hear the outer doors to the funeral home open or close either. In fact, I thought they were locked. I didn’t have any appointments scheduled. Tony’s viewing would take up most of the day. I had no idea who this woman was or where she came from, which rattled my nerves. I can’t say ghost didn’t enter my mind at that moment.

She turned in the chair to face me. Hi Quinn. Long time no see.

Recognition escaped me. She had the advantage. I didn’t remember knowing her and after everything I’d been through the last year, I didn’t take kindly to being in the back seat of manipulation. Hi. And you are?

I slowly walked around to my desk chair. As I moved I noticed two things. One was that this woman had a baby with her. The other was that she eyed me carefully as I circled my desk.

You don’t recognize me, do you?

Should I?

A broad smile appeared on the childlike face. She leaned forward, holding the baby close to her chest. It didn’t make a sound. Quinn, it’s me. Jackie Brown. She waited, I’m sure, to see a flicker of identification in my face, but I was still dumbfounded.

Wayland High? Remember? You were the center for our soccer team. I was—

"Fullback. Right fullback. Oh my God, Jackie, you have changed!" I exclaimed.

Hopefully for the better.

I remember you being a stocky girl with braces, a force to be reckoned with on the field. And now…

A bit more feminine, don’t you think?

Yeah, that and…

Jackie looked down at the sleeping infant and smiled a true mother’s tender smile. The baby. Yes. Things sure do change.

Girl or boy?

Boy. Tony the second.

Even though I was a redhead and not a blonde, sometimes things that were as plain as day slipped right by me into the night, but this one was a small beacon of light in a dark sky. Tony was the name of the dead body waiting for the viewing hours to begin.

I looked at the woman who sat opposite me. She was no longer the bruiser on the soccer field. She was slender, curvy, and soft skinned. Her hair wasn’t short and scraggly, but long and styled. Even the color had changed. It used to be brown with a hint of blond highlights. Now she was complete blond—a rather sophisticated, golden blond. Her clothes weren’t from the closet of her brother, but more from the designer section of Macy’s: brown linen pants with a cream colored, long sleeve fitted blouse that was adorned with large brown buttons down the front. Her shoes were expensive; I could tell by the texture of the leather, the firmness of the three-inch heels, and the red soles.

Jackie cooed at the baby as he woke and she reached into a Coach diaper bag, producing a pacifier that she quickly inserted into his mouth. Then she met my stare.

I didn’t remember Maria telling me that Tony had a grandson or a child of his own. In fact, Maria, Tony’s only wife, said they had no children.

What can I do for you, Jackie? I queried, staying away from the question I really wanted to ask.

Jackie shifted uncomfortably in her chair. You have Tony Fioravanti’s body here, for his funeral.

Are you a relation?

This is Tony’s son.

But are you related?

Quinn, please. I just want to see him before the wake. I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that it’s not a good idea for me to be here, especially if you’ve met his wife Maria.

I have.

Quinn. Jackie pulled the baby closer to her chest and started to rock him gently, I don’t remember you being a stupid woman. I’m sure you’ve figured it out. I am—I mean I was—Tony’s mistress. This is his son. As far as I know, Maria knows nothing of us. I loved him. She looked up from her son. Please let me say good-bye. Just a few minutes alone with him is all I ask.

Jackie, the wake starts in an hour. Maria could show up at any moment and I am not jeopardizing my business by letting you see him. If Maria were to walk in while you are here, that could be bad. I don’t know how much you know about her, but—

I know she’s wicked, evil, and conniving. I promise I won’t put you or your business at risk. Just let me see him. Please. I’ll be out before any of his friends or family gets here, I promise.

Jackie, I’m sorry. I can’t. I got up and walked to the door. You can leave out the back way to avoid anyone. Jackie didn’t move from her chair. Please, Jackie. I don’t like doing this, but ethically, I can’t let you see him. I waited, holding the door open.

Finally, Jackie got up. With the baby in her arms and her designer diaper bag slung over her shoulder, she slowly walked out, saying nothing.

I’m sorry, Jackie. Really.

Chapter Two

I watched her walk down the hall, and then closed my door to make the final preparations for the wake of Tony Fioravanti. I sat at my desk, uploading the music Maria Fioravanti had chosen to play in the background during the wake. Suddenly, I heard a loud bang.

I didn’t jump. Between my apartment and the funeral home, I was becoming accustomed to the unannounced, thunderous sounds of the spirits. There was another very thunderous thud, but this one was on my door. I got up and quickly walked the distance from my desk to the door of my office. When I got there I turned the knob and pulled it open as fast as I could. I knew what I would see.

Nothing.

I peered down the hall in both directions. No one. We still had thirty minutes before Maria and other family members were supposed to show up for their private viewing before the highly publicized one. Chaz told me Tony’s death and subsequent funeral had been all over the news.

I walked down to Chaz’s office to see if he had finished putting the Kleenex boxes in the room where Tony was laid out in an extravagantly carved oak coffin with pearl inlay designs and silk lining of the highest quality. When I entered, he looked up at me smiling.

Pretty sad about Jennifer’s story, isn’t it?

Jennifer who?

Jennifer Woods. The woman with the baby.

Her name isn’t Jennifer Woods. What story did she tell you? I demanded.

She said she was Tony’s daughter-in-law. She came to town to visit Tony and Maria but he died before he got to see his grandchild. She has to leave on an early flight to get back to California to help her mother who’s sick, so she can’t stay for the funeral. She wanted to say good-bye before she left.

No, Chaz, you didn’t.

I didn’t what? What’s wrong?

She’s not his daughter-in-law. She’s his mistress, I said loudly as I ran out of the room. Shit, I thought to myself. Just keep Maria away for another few minutes.

The moment I entered the hall I heard banging on the outer door. My heart started to beat loud and fast. Don’t let it be Maria, I prayed silently. The pounding grew louder and there was an urgent sense to it that forced me to stop and look. It was Andie.

After she helped me communicate with my dead lover, I never questioned where or when she showed up. There was always a reason that only Andie knew and I didn’t until after she appeared.

I ran to the door and unlocked it. Andie slipped inside and I locked the door behind her. If Jackie was still here, I didn’t want Maria walking in and finding her. I knew it would be bad for both of us.

Quickly, Andie said. Maria will be here any minute. You need to put his shoe back on.

On Tony’s dead body? I stared at Andie but decided not to challenge the bizarre directive. I knew from past experience there was no use questioning whatever Andie said or asked of me. The only live male in the funeral parlor was Chaz, and I was sure his shoes were on. That left the dead guy. I turned and sprinted as fast as my own two-inch black pumps would allow me to.

Chaz was standing in