Miss Lucy's Ghost, Jamey Hart Ghost Adventures Book 2

By Jimmy Beard

Even before young Jamey Hart moves to Saint Steven, a murderer is hard at work. He is a rich and powerful man and discovers an affair between his wife and his best friend. He consults a local witch and they carefully plan their two murders which he executes. Both appear to be accidents to everyone except local detective Grady Pruunes. Grady is closing the net on the murderer when money and power cause the case to be closed. When young Jamey Hart arrives, and Miss Lucy begins to appear in his dreams, the killer becomes frightened by what Jamey may learn from a ghost. He decides Jamey must be eliminated and sets his cap to do so. It’s up to Grady and Miss Lucy to protect Jamey. A clean fun read with Christian values. No profanity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jimmy Beard
• Release date: Oct 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370018130

Jimmy Beard

I was born in Charleston, South Carolina and raised in the surrounding moss covered Low-country . Now retired with my wife, Laura, I like to travel, spend time with children and grandchildren, and try to write an occasional novel. I write in a simple style, maybe even homespun, and with a bit of coziness, not prone to blood and gore. I believe the main purpose of a good novel is enjoyment and entertainment. And if it promotes a comfort food feeling as well, then I am happy. Such is the Jamey Hart Adventure Series. Hope you enjoy!

Book preview

This book is dedicated to all the angels of the world:

To the angels as revealed in the Holy bible who have ministered to us throughout the ages.

To the ten thousand angels Jesus could have called when he was on the cross.

To those spoken of in Mark 12:25.

For when they rise from the dead, they neither marry, nor are given in marriage, but are as the angels which are in heaven.

To those who serve as angels because they see a need, and minister to those in need.

To those special angels who are sent from God, to enrich and complete the lives of others. My special angel is my wife, Laura. I believe she was sent to make my life complete.

May God bless all the angels of the world.

Chapter 1

The Man

Spring 1960 In Saint Steven

As Chandler closed his eyes he was thinking, tomorrow I MUST kill a man who has been my best friend since high school, because if I don’t kill him, he’ll kill me! It just doesn’t seem possible.

Everything was pretty much normal until yesterday, he thought, as he settled back into the big four poster bed. His thoughts went back to the day before and the drive back from Savannah. That’s when things really began to go wrong. He remembered turning off the main road onto the secondary road and pressing down on the gas pedal. The big Buick responded by coming up to speed quickly. He really liked this car. It was quiet, smooth, and powerful, too. Sure, he could drive a Cadillac if he wanted, he could buy a dozen for that matter, but he just liked this big Buick

Another five minutes and I'll be home, he thought, and won’t Prissy be surprised? She won’t be expecting me until tomorrow, but things really went well in Savannah. I finished up a day early this week, and gained two new customers. They are big ones, too.

Chandler Rivers was a diamond broker and a very successful one. He had made a name for himself in the Lowcountry. Chandler Rivers would be on anybody's top ten success stories, and around Saint Steven, he was THE MAN. He had made his first million over ten years ago, as anybody at the bank could tell you. Oh yes, he was the man in Cypress County. He was a fairly big man, six foot two, weighed around two hundred fifty pounds, and had been a star running back when he played football in college. He was a powerful man then, and handsome, with his blonde hair and blue eyes. But he was forty-five now, and a little more flabby than firm. All the road trips and hotel stays with too much restaurant food had taken a toll.

Prissy, on the other hand, just seemed to mellow with age, and she looked even better now than she did ten years ago. Her brown hair was still shiny, and her brown eyes still sparkled. Her figure was almost girlish, yet had a nice tint of maturity. Of course she was ten years younger than Chandler, and she spent a small fortune on beauty treatments. Still, he thought it was worth it, because she looked good, and he would be glad to see her after being gone all week. Maybe I should have called, he thought. Naw, it will better to surprise her. I’ll just go upstairs and wake her up, and maybe we will make love. She’s seemed a little cool lately for some reason. Maybe we need to go on one of those cruise trips or something. We don’t seem as close now, somehow, or is it just my imagination?

He slowed and turned onto Lakeshore Drive. It was somewhat secluded here on Cypress Lake. There were only a few houses on this side of the lake, and all of them were hidden from the road by rows of moss-covered Live Oak trees. Along the lakefront were huge Cypress trees, and this time of year, all of the azaleas were blooming. It was a large lake of more than a three hundred acres, and twisted and turned so that it was more than a mile long. There were some ordinary houses over on the Kellytown side, but only an occasional fisherman came over to Chandler’s side. There was no public access, so that kept the masses out. It is just a really nice place to live, he thought,  and I deserve it. I am plenty smart and I have worked hard to achieve this success. It's part of being THE MAN.

I built our house to satisfy Prissy, but I must admit that I like it too. It is much more than we will ever need, with the five bedrooms and six baths, but it makes a nice statement about Chandler Rivers, he mused. There was marble on the floors, imported hardwoods, and thousand dollar chandeliers. The kitchen had two ranges and four ovens, though Prissy never cooked that much. There was a walk-in refrigerator and freezer as well. They would never need all those bedrooms, because Prissy would not agree to have children. Chandler thought she was afraid a child would divert attention from her. Yes, she was a vain woman for sure, and it was always all about Prissy.

Well, here’s home, he thought, #26 Lakeshore Drive. Chandler turned in, and made his way down through the moss-covered oaks and red and white azaleas. As the house came into view, he noticed a strange car. No, it's not a strange car, he thought, it's the black Cadillac that belongs to Johnny Badcock. Johnny is my best friend and lifetime buddy. We have been close since high school, but what is he doing here? Is something wrong? Did Prissy call him? Chandler pulled up short of Johnny’s car and got out. As he passed the Cadillac, he could see that it was covered with the morning dew. Why Johnny’s been here all night long, he thought. All kinds of wild thoughts raced through Chandler’s mind. Johnny Badcock was not married. He had a reputation as a ladies man, and he had quite a few names on the books all the time. But this was his best friend. He wouldn’t be here with Prissy like that, would he? Chandler had an uneasy feeling about this whole situation. Something was not right. He went around to the back door, and quietly let himself in. At first he couldn’t hear anything, but soon he heard voices from upstairs. Quietly he worked his way up the stairs to the top landing. The door to Prissy’s room was half-open, and he could hear everything being said.

Well, it’s not as easy as you make out, Prissy! Johnny said with a long sigh, And besides, he is supposed to be my best friend.

Nawnsense Jahw-ney! You could ca-ah less what happens to Chand-luh, and you know it. Besides, it’s been over a ye-ah now, and I want him out of the way so that we can be together all the time, Punkin. And we do want to spend his money now don’t we? And how am I supposed to act when he wants to love on me, Jahw-ney?

"You let me do the lovin’ on you, Prissy, Honey. You know I want to be with you all the time, sweetness, but we are talkin' murder here. Things have to be done right. It has to look like an accident. Now we are going fishing Saturday, and I’ll try to think of something by then. Maybe he can drown or something."

Goodie, Jahw-ney! Now come back to bed and love me again before you go.

Chandler felt a sickness in his stomach that was only surpassed by the anger that raged inside him. He made his way down the stairs to the den and the massive gun cabinet. He unlocked the cabinet, and as he opened the door, the first gun his hand could find was his twelve gauge automatic shotgun. He took it out and reached for the shells. They both need killing, he thought. I will go up now and kill them in the very act, and no one could blame me. Think now! Or could they? Wait a minute, he reasoned, Think this thing through, now, and be sure! His hand was shaking a little as he placed the gun back in the rack. He put the shells back, closed the door, and locked it,

Chandler was cool and calculating in everything he did. That’s how he had made his mark in the diamond business, and he would be cool now. He would think this thing over. Oh, he would kill them both for sure, but he needed a plan, and he wanted to be sure he wasn’t caught. He couldn’t have these local Simpletons sitting on a jury, with power to decide the fate of someone of his stature. That wouldn't be right! Furthermore, what would people say about him not being able to keep Prissy satisfied? No, there had to be a better way.

Quietly he left through the back door and walked around to the big Buick. He started it up and slowly backed out the drive. They wouldn’t hear that Buick, not if they were doing what he thought. He needed to leave and come back tomorrow, when Prissy would be expecting him, but where could he go? He didn’t want to go all the way back to Savannah. He decided he would just go over to the main road, find a motel and stay there.

Chandler had driven for about thirty minutes when he came to a clean looking motel with a restaurant next door. Perfect, he thought, and he rented a room. As he left the office, he checked the number on the room key and saw that it was number 13. Wouldn’t you just know it, he thought, well no matter, because I am not superstitious. His room was on the side overlooking Salem Street. As he opened the door, he noticed a house across the street and a sign that read: MADAM ZULU. The sign also read: FORTUNES-READER-ADVICE-OCCULT-POTIONS. Chandler set his bag down, found the ice bucket, and went for ice. Something about that sign kept running through his mind. Potions, he thought, now just what might potions be, and what about occult?

He returned to his room, found his bourbon bottle, and fixed a drink. Ah! Just what I needed, he sighed. He took a sip and began to think about everything that was coming undone. So my wife and my best friend are planning to kill me, and this fairy-tale has been going on for over a year now. No wonder things have been cool with Prissy. I had just thought it was me or maybe a phase that she was going through. Yes, it was a phase for sure, but I couldn’t have imagined a phase like that. And what about that low down excuse for a friend named Johnny? With all the women that he has had and could have, why Prissy? He needs killing more than once. I can’t believe the ingratitude of Prissy, either. Didn’t I take her out of that little two-mule town and give her everything? Man, I didn’t see this coming at all! Why she would still be working at that little bank and sitting on Daddy Bottoms’ front porch every evening, if not for me. And if she wore ten pieces at a time, she couldn’t wear all her jewelry in a month. Every closet is full of the most expensive fashions. And besides all that, one would think that just being married to THE Chandler Rivers would be enough to keep any woman happy. Talk about ungrateful! Still, she is a looker and she knows how to make a bed exciting, I will give her that.

And that Johnny Badcock, does he not have all the nerve. He’s running around with his best friend’s wife, even though that friend is THE Chandler Rivers. Well, I can see what he would want with Prissy, but what does Prissy see in him? He is about my height but he’s lanky and thin, and he has straight black hair and a mustache. He is a nifty dresser, always wears the latest styles, and he always wears a necktie with his initials monogrammed on it. Talk about being vain. Of course he has never really been successful, like me. However, if he takes all my stuff and my woman to boot, he can have instant success, now can’t he?

Chandler pondered his options. I could go to the courts and get a divorce, but that bunch of Simpletons in town would secretly laugh at me. Behold the mighty Chandler Rivers, who had a wife and couldn’t keep her. No, I can't do that, he thought, I do have my pride.

His family had always been the upper crust. He was special, and he was not to be laughed at. He had worked too hard to become THE MAN. Well then, he had money and could hire it done. No, they might botch it, or it might be found out. Therefore, he must plan the perfect crime. Besides, he thought, Now, I really do want to kill him myself.

Well, first things first. He would come up with a plan to kill Johnny right now, since he must, before Johnny could kill him. Johnny was planning to drown him as soon as day after tomorrow, because that's when they were going fishing. Well, he could just drown Johnny, but how could he do it? Johnny was almost as big as Chandler was, and in much better condition, and possibly physically superior.

Chandler began to pace and look out the window. Once more he saw the sign that read: MADAM ZULU. Well now, he reasoned, why not go see Madam Zulu, and just see what answers she has for this mess? Chandler crossed the street to the little house and tried to open the door, but it was locked. He saw a doorknocker and was about to use it, when the door opened. There stood a small dark skinned woman with gray hair all done up in a turban. Chandler thought she must be from the Caribbean Islands. She wore dark glasses and a long robe that went down to the floor.

Do you wish to see Madam Zulu? She asked in perfect English, complete with British accent.

Well-uh-yes. Yes, I do. Chandler lost his composure momentarily, and displayed a puzzled look, but quickly regained control.

Then please come in and be seated. She motioned for Chandler to sit at a small table. Madam Zulu sat across from him. Now, what can Madam do for you?

Well, it’s my wife and best friend. They....

WAIT! She interrupted, Please place five dollars on the table. At first he was hesitant, but he did as she asked. She took a small tin box out of her pocket, opened it, and allowed its contents to spill on the table. Chandler could see that the contents appeared to be tea leaves. She studied the tea leaves for a long time, without speaking, but placing her hand over her mouth occasionally. Then at last she lowered the dark glasses, squinted over them with her somewhat beady brown eyes and spoke. Her voice had a tone of gravity that scared him. You are in serious trouble. Please place twenty dollars on the table. Chandler liked his money and didn’t want to part with it this way. This is almost like blackmail, he thought, but the way things are going today, what is twenty dollars? Reluctantly he placed another twenty dollars on the table.

It is not blackmail! I am trying to save your life, she said with righteous anger and two clenched fists. At that point, she could have had Chandler’s wallet and everything in it. He was totally frightened by her ability to read his mind. Your best friend is planning to kill you, she said, and if he fails your wife will find someone else to do it. You must either leave to get away from them, or you must strike first. Her tone was matter of fact and she spoke quietly peering over the glasses. She appeared to be as a cat waiting on the mouse to make a move.

I’m not going to leave, Chandler replied in a voice that wanted to quiver, what can I do?

Place five hundred dollars on the table, she said. Chandler groaned inside his very being and thought, I’m probably the only man around these parts who even carries that much cash, but I do, and so reluctantly he placed the money on the table. This better be good, he thought as he tried not to grimace. Madam picked up the money and went behind a curtain to the next room saying, Wait here.

When she returned she had two tiny bottles, no bigger than sample perfume bottles. She placed them on the table in front of Chandler. One bottle had a black label, the other bottle had a red label, and she also had a little box. There was no writing on the labels. She stared at Chandler a long time before speaking, as if wondering if she should trust him. He was starting to feel uneasy and thought he might want to leave.

Finally she spoke.When you go fishing, pour the contents of the black bottle into something that he will drink. He will be paralyzed in five seconds and dead in fifteen seconds. Take him to the far end of the lake and weight his body with something to hold it down. Then go back to a place near your house and overturn the boat. Be close enough to the shore, so that you can swim to it safely. They will never find his body so far away from where they think he drowned.

Place the contents of the red bottle in something that she will drink. Be sure that no more than thirty minutes elapse until she drinks it. In the box is a little tool to make a puncture mark on her neck. It will appear that she died from a rattlesnake’s bite. Either do it outside, or take her outside before she’s found, unless you have rattlesnakes in the house. At that she threw her head back and laughed, and asked, Do you understand?

Yes, I do, Chandler said as he lowered his eyes, and placed the box and bottles in his pocket. He didn’t know if he believed all that she had said, but at this point he was afraid to question anything. He was afraid to risk provoking her to anger. There’s no telling what she might do, he thought.

One more thing, she said, motioning with pointed finger as he headed toward the door. I never saw you, and I hope you are smart enough never to try to cross me.  And with that she laughed and exited behind the curtain.

Chandler walked back to his motel room in a daze. Is this real? He pinched himself. Ouch! Yes, I am awake. He was quite frightened to know that someone like Madam Zulu existed. Have I just sold my soul to the devil? He hadn’t heard anything mentioned about his soul, and he hadn’t signed anything. How was she able to read my mind and know all she knew? Or is this stuff phony? Once inside the room, he gave the bottles a more careful examination. There was something in the bottles all right, but there couldn’t be more than a few drops in either. He looked in the box and saw a little piece of wood that appeared to be a small homemade wooden handle. It had two prongs like little sharp pins. He had to admit it. That thing appeared that it would make a mark resembling snakebite. But is the stuff in the bottles real? Well, he would find out Saturday when he went fishing with Johnny. He shrugged and fell back on the bed feeling very tired and soon dozed.

BYE, PRISSY, DEAR, Johnny called back as he headed down the stairs of Chandler’s house, See you Saturday.

Why you know I’ll be right he-ah you handsome lover-boy. Now you remember what you need to do?

I remember, Prissy Dear. Johnny made a vinegary face because it irked him that she was so persistent with her demands. If she wasn’t so good in bed, and the key to Chandler’s money, he would have dumped her long ago. He fully intended to kill Chandler, and later he would kill Prissy too. Then he would have all the money, and he could be THE MAN.

As he drove home, he thought, how could I kill Chandler? Obviously, it has to be an accident, so I can’t shoot him or anything like that, and I can’t poison him for fear it might show up in the autopsy. He thought he could overpower Chandler, and just hold him under water and drown him. That was risky, though, because it might backfire, and he could end up being the victim. He would get only one chance to kill Chandler, so it had to be right. What if I hit him over the head with a paddle? Yes, that would do it. Then I could drown him, throw him over the side, and say he fell and hit his head. There would be no witnesses, so who could say any different? It was a simple plan for a simple man and he liked it. Johnny smiled and thought, okay that’s it, then. I’ll hit him over the head and drown him. In the early days he had really liked Chandler, but lately it seemed that Chandler was obsessed with being THE MAN. He had heard all about his great deeds until he was sick of it. But he had to feign the friendship, to be able to access Prissy, because she was the only way to THE MAN’S money. Soon Chandler will be history, he thought, and besides, if Chandler finds out about Prissy and me.... Well, he won’t, because I will strike first.

AS CHANDLER WOKE AND looked at his diamond watch, he saw it was almost five o’clock. He had slept all afternoon, and his stomach told him he hadn’t had any food since breakfast. Well, he could sure remedy that. He felt a little better about things now, because he had a plan, and he always felt better when he had a plan.

He walked next door to the restaurant and found a quiet booth where it was private, since he didn’t want to see anyone he knew. When the waitress came, he ordered a T-bone steak, rare. He deserved it, since he had taken care of things in a businesslike manner. Just in case the potion didn’t work, he would take his snub-nosed 32-caliber pistol. Johnny’s body wouldn’t be found anyway, so it didn’t matter how he died. Still the potion would be easier, because there would be no blood to make a mess. When he got back to the motel, he called Prissy. The phone rang only twice before she answered.

Hello, Chand-luh, De-ah. I just know it’s you calling lil’ ol’ Prissy. Prissy put forth her best-contrived impression of joy.

Yes, Prissy, Dahlin, you know I had to call and talk to you, Precious. Now have you been missing ol’ Chandler? He was glad she couldn’t see his eyes roll as he said it.

Oh yes! Oh yes. You know I always miss you, Chand-luh, De-ah. When are you coming home to Prissy? She was thinking, soon I’ll miss you a lot more.

"I’ll be there early tomorrow Prissy Honey. Probably about tenish. I could get in bed with you." Let’s see what she says to this, he thought.

"Oh, Chand-luh, De-ah. You know how much I would love that, but I have to leave early to get my hair done, and a facial, and my spa, and some shopping. Oh me! I fear I won’t be back until tomorrow night in time to go out to eat. You were taking me out weren’t you, Chand-luh, De-ah?" I side-stepped that, she thought.

Of course, Prissy, Honey! What would a Friday night be without some sort of outing? Chandler made a sarcastic expression, and a hand signal, but knew she couldn’t see it.

"Well, good then. Oh by the way, De-ah, Jahw-ney has called, and said to remind you of the fishing date Saturday morning. Said he would be here at seven." Don’t miss this one, big boy, she was thinking.

Okay then, Honey. I’ll be there when you return from shopping. Bye now, Prissy, Honey.

Bye, Chand-luh, De-ah.

Chandler placed the phone back on the hook and smiled. He