Sound Travels Book Four in the Whispers Series

By Nance Newman

Once again, Quinn hears the whispers of the dead, but when it follows her on a trip to New York City with Andjela and Chaz to help her parents find a missing girl, Quin realizes the whisper is that of the missing girl, Sofia.
The niece of Eleanor, the last spirit to elicit Quinn’s help, Sofia had somehow gotten mixed up in her family’s Mafia mess. Now she is dead.
Quinn summons Mr. Princeton and Chester to New York City to help them communicate with Sofia. Together, they must follow the clues to find Sofia’s body and the cause of her death.
Who is really responsible for the murder of a young girl? What was Sofia hiding that got her killed? Will Quinn and her friends find her and what it was she was hiding?
And why are there two different black SUV’s that show up where ever they are?
Follow Quinn, Andjela, Mr. Princeton, Chester and Chaz into two very menacing worlds-that of the Mafia and of the dead, and discover the newest hiding spot—a very large hole in Brooklyn.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nance Newman
• Release date: Dec 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005922412

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

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DirtyWrong

Book Three in the Whispers Series

By Nance Newman

Dirty Wrong

Copyright 2016 by Nance Newman

Edited by Heather Flournoy

Cover Design: Pixel Studios

First Printing-April 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.

Dirty Wrong

Chapter One

Wailing.

Wailing full of sadness, despair and torment, gut-wrenching sorrow and agony. For the second day in a row, that’s what the sobbing sounded like that resounded throughout my funeral home once again. Spiritual distress was becoming the norm. Sitting at my desk looking out at the gray sky that often graced our fair city in November, I felt if it were to continue, I might just have to give up the funeral parlor business. Not because anyone else heard the sounds, but because I didn’t know how much longer I could listen to them without falling into a fit of rage from frustration. In the very least, it was hard to concentrate.

It had been a couple of months since Tony Fioravanti’s spirit upset the balance of my workplace, and during the calm and quiet in the aftermath I had let in a little smidgen of hope that maybe Andjela was wrong about me—maybe I wasn’t a receiver after all. But now, having listened to sounds of anguish and misery for the last two days, I knew the short-lived silence had just meant that none of the bodies passing through my funeral parlor in the last few months had any unfinished business they wanted me to take care of.

Eleanor Russomanno, the latest corpse in my establishment, apparently did. I just didn’t know what it was.

I picked up my cell phone, giving in to the fact that I would have to call Andjela for help. I met Andjela—I called her Andie—almost six months ago when I was plagued by voices after the death of my beloved Matthew. She was recommended to me by Mr. Princeton, a professor of Ancient Egyptology Studies at a local university and a tenant in my apartment building. He and Andie had the afterlife in common—they both believed in life after death. So, Andie—a communicator as she called herself—helped me to not only solve the whispered requests from Matthew, but she stayed by my side when Tony began to badger me in my funeral home.

I actually tried speaking to Eleanor on my own. At first, I had great optimism that she would not only hear me, but listen to me, explain her need, and then shut up. But if she did hear me, what I said wasn’t making a difference. She continued to fill my establishment with her cries instead of her request.

At one point, I tried listening to music to drown her out, but her bawling persisted, even penetrating my ear buds. I wanted to show Andie I was capable of handling it on my own. Clearly I wasn’t, and I knew I would have to call her. Eleanor had something to say and Andie would be able to relay the message.

Chaz, my assistant and best friend, hadn’t heard the sounds from Tony and I was pretty sure he didn’t hear Eleanor’s sobs filtering through the rooms either. Chaz also thought I was the one moving objects around the funeral home, like a vase or a chair. At one point he approached me and, asked, If you wanted the vase of flowers on that table why didn’t you just tell me?

Eleanor, I replied in a singsong voice. That was enough to prompt the light bulb to go off in Chaz’s brain. After that, he would just point to the object and ask, Eleanor? I would smile and nod.

None of the mourners heard or saw anything either, which was good because it would have been bad for business if vases of flowers were moving about during a funeral. The sobs, though, might have fit in perfectly. Smiling to myself, I could picture loved ones looking around the room for an especially distraught mourner and becoming nervous when they couldn’t find one.

Still, I needed to call Andie because I was fast approaching complete desperation. I was reaching the point of a breakdown. Not the certifiable kind, just the kind that would keep me from running my business because I couldn’t stand to listen to the whispers anymore.

Good God, get over it, will you? I shouted to Eleanor, knowing full well she wouldn’t stop just because I asked her to.

Uh-oh. I looked up to see Chaz standing in my doorway. Who is it this time? John MacDonald? I thought his family looked a little troubled.

Chaz was with me from the start, the day Matthew whispered to me. I thought I was going crazy, and so did he, because he recommended a therapist. But in the end Matthew helped me to fend off his parents who wanted to take everything I had. He proved how much he loved me in life by helping me after his death. His devotion led me to his lawyer and a subsequent inheritance that set me up for life.

But in helping me, Matthew also opened the door for other spirits to whisper to me. Tony Fioravanti, a Mafia boss who was gunned down, was the first spirit to demand my help. I say demand because I came to understand that I had no choice but to help them. If I didn’t, they would continue to haunt me until they got what they wanted.

Tony had a wife, and a mistress with an illegitimate child. To compound the issue, Tony wanted his mistress and bastard son to inherit his business as well as his possessions but he never got the chance to pass them on to them. So, he enlisted me to do it for him.

Tony’s spirit dragged Andie, Mr. Princeton, Chester (who owned St. Luke’s Cemetery near my funeral home), Chaz, and me into a world of criminals, secrets, and lies, and in the end, it wasn’t only Tony’s spirit that wanted something; so did his wife, Maria, his mistress, Jackie, and some strange men in dark suits.

Maria was murdered, we were pretty sure by the strange men in dark suits, as she searched for her own clues—the same men who showed up in The Lockport Tunnel shortly after Jackie found us in the midst of Tony’s stash. Jackie had let us go before they arrived, but not before she delivered a warning to not say anything to anyone. It was one thing to threaten me; it was another to put my friends in danger. I knew from that day I was not only going to have complicated relationships with the afterlife, but I would also have an antagonistic relationship with Jackie.

As it was, nothing was ever mentioned in the news about a secret hiding place had been found in a cave loaded with artifacts and Mafia secrets, or the dead bodies that I knew had to be a result of the gunfight that took place between Jackie and the strange men as we were leaving. The only tangible outcome was that The Lockport Cave and Underground Boat Ride was closed the week after we were there—supposedly for repairs. That was the day I realized the power certain men and women could wield over others. I only hoped it would never come back to bite any of us in the ass.

As much as I hated to involve Chaz, I had to answer his question. He would never let up if I didn’t. No. I sighed. Not MacDonald. Eleanor Russomanno.

The old lady in the freezer? Aren’t you going to prep her today?

Yes. And yes, I was just getting ready to go down to the embalming room, and she won’t shut up.

Are you sure you want to do that? Maybe she’s vocal because she doesn’t want you to pump that icky-smelling stuff into her body.

I don’t have a choice, Chaz. Her funeral is tomorrow. You know that.

Yeah, but she might suddenly sit up on you like the time I hid under the sheet. The only difference is I was and still am alive, and she is most certainly dead.

It doesn’t work that way. They can’t manipulate their dead bodies—or at least that’s what Andjela told me. Besides, she’s been sobbing and moving stuff around since she got here, and I don’t think filling her with formaldehyde is going to stop her. She’s got a gripe and you know as well as I do I’m going to have to find out what it is.

I’m just worried about you… Chaz paused. Things can change, you know. That’s one thing I’ve learned from all this ghost stuff. You never know what these spirits are going to do. What’s that saying? ‘The only sure thing in life is change.’ I guess now we can say the only sure thing in death is change.

Seriously, Chaz? Is that the best you can do? ‘The only sure thing in death is change?’ I said mockingly, and then immediately felt bad for teasing him.

Fine, mock me all you want, but what I really want to know is what is it with the Italians? First Tony Fioravanti and now Eleanor Russomanno. Have you got a Mafia magnet hidden somewhere?

Just because Tony was Mafia doesn’t mean every dead Italian body that passes through this building is part of the mob.

I know, but it seems they’re the only ones who are complaining. He winked. Let me know if you need any help. Otherwise I’m back in my office preparing the rest of the paperwork.

Will do. Thanks.

Chaz stopped and hit his head with his hand. I forgot the reason I came to your office. You have company. In the basement. He turned and left.

I got up from my desk and headed down to the basement. I wasn’t surprised to find Andie standing by the door to the room that contained the freezer box. I had found her there before.

She looked up at me and smiled. She’s been quite vocal, hasn’t she?

Yeah, since she got here.

Why didn’t you call me?

I thought I could handle it. But I’m actually more curious as to why you didn’t show up sooner? You usually come at the first sign of spiritual distress.

Spiritual distress. She mulled over the two words. I like that. She turned back to the freezer door. Your question is a good one. I didn’t feel her until today. She looked back at me. How long has the body been here?

Almost two days. I was actually getting ready to come down and embalm the body when Chaz said you were here. I took a step toward her. You didn’t feel her until today?

No, should I have?

She’s not only been wailing for two days, but she’s been moving all sorts of stuff around. It’s driving Chaz nuts. I giggled. But it’s kind of cute the way he’s putting up with all of this.

He’s one of the good ones.

Yes, he is. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

Andie leaned toward me. Just don’t let him know that. It’ll go to his head.

I won’t. Now, what do we do with Eleanor?

What do you know about her?

Not much. She was married, but her husband died a while ago.

You haven’t looked her up on your computer?

No. Should I?

If all you know about her is that she was married and her husband is dead, then I think we need to find out more.

Can’t we just have a séance?

Andie shot me a look. Now Quinn, you know it doesn’t work that way.

I laughed.

What’s so funny?

I just said the same thing to Chaz.

You did? Hmmph. Sometimes I’m not so sure you’re listening to me or that you believe what I tell you. She winked at me.

I walked over and slipped my arm through Andie’s. You know I do on both accounts. Let’s go upstairs and do a little research on Eleanor. Then I’ve got to get to work or we won’t be ready for her funeral.

I went into my office. Andie stayed out in the hall, roaming from one room to the next. I didn’t question anymore when she walked around looking like she was staking out the place for a heist. I was used to it. I sat down at my desk and opened my computer. I Googled Eleanor Russomanno and waited for the search results to appear on the screen. Then a thought crossed my mind. I closed my laptop and went down to Chaz’s office.

Hey, Boss. Is Andjela gone? Andie hadn’t given Chaz permission yet to call her Andie, but he wasn’t giving up—he was still working on her.

Again, Chaz with the ‘boss’ thing.

Sorry, sorry. Habit. He smiled at me. Is there something you want?

Andjela’s not gone. I also didn’t call her Andie when Chaz was around so as not to rub it in. She’s walking around to see if she senses anything from Eleanor.

So, it’s definite. Another one is recruiting you to do their dirty work.

Looks that way. I sat down in the overstuffed chair positioned for clients to face Chaz at his desk as well as have a view out the window of the gardens that now were dormant in preparation for the cold winter. "What do we know about Eleanor? Better yet, what do you know about Eleanor? Who is setting up her funeral?" Chaz had always taken care of the paperwork, but lately I was giving him opportunities to meet with clients and guide them through the funeral preparations. Eleanor’s funeral was the second one Chaz had managed so I didn’t know much about it.

Her sister-in-law, Gina, is in charge of everything. She told me Eleanor’s husband died of a heart attack about five years ago, but I’m not so sure that’s the case. She seemed uncomfortable talking about it. They had a son, but he’s kind of disappeared off the face of the earth, according to Gina. She said the son was a waste product. Kind of cruel, I think, but she sure didn’t have anything nice to say about him.

So maybe this has something to do with her son, I surmised.

Could be. Gina came with her own son and daughter, and when they were here the kids were involved in some background conversations that Gina quickly hushed. I heard something about a fortune that Eleanor’s husband—I think his name was Mario—had stashed away somewhere. Gina’s children seemed to think they were deserving of it since they all took care of Eleanor the last years of her life.

I guess I don’t need to Google her, do I?

No, because I already have. He winked at me.

I smiled. Aww, Chaz. You never cease to amaze me.

Chaz sat up straight in his chair. Why thank you, Boss. He looked sheepishly at me. Sorry.

It’s okay. You’re just going to have to continue to work on breaking that habit. So what else did you find out?

Chaz fidgeted like a small child who couldn’t contain himself as he tapped the keys on his laptop. I thought you’d never ask. Once you let me know Eleanor was haunting the place, I started doing some research—just in case. He maneuvered his mouse around and then punched a few more keys.

Just in case, I echoed, smiling.

Now, Mario Russomanno was also in the Mafia.

Oh, thus the Mafia magnet comment. I remembered Chaz’s remark earlier. Why didn’t you tell me?

I figured when you were ready to address the issue, you’d let me know. Like you are now. He turned the laptop around so I could see the screen. "Mario Russomanno was part of the Tony Fioravanti Mafia organization. He was Tony’s right-hand man…for a while.

Mario liked to rob banks, and he robbed quite a few of them around the northeastern coast, many of them without Tony’s knowledge. He amassed quite a fortune, but no one to this day really knows how much. If you read about him, you’ll find he added to his fortune in other ways, but the bank robberies are what got him arrested.

I looked up at Chaz. Arrested?

From what I can tell, he kept most of the bank robberies a secret from Tony, but eventually Tony found out. Tony leaked information to the feds that Mario was the one robbing banks, and Mario was quickly arrested. Supposedly, he gave a lot of the money back, but not all of it. They sentenced him to one hundred and fifty-two weekends in prison.

Really? He went to prison on the weekends?

I guess back then that’s what they did. And remember, he was Mafia. They had quite a hold over the city.

Who’s Mafia? Andie was standing in the doorway.

Chaz was just filling me in on Eleanor. I didn’t have to look her up, he already did it for me.

You are definitely an efficient person. One of the many reasons Quinn keeps you around. Andie winked at Chaz.

Why, thank you, and yes, it is only one of the many reasons.

All right you two, enough. Chaz and Andie closed their mouths but kept small smirks on their faces while I shared the information he retrieved from the Internet. After I finished, I waited for Andie to say something, but it was Chaz who spoke up.

Has Eleanor given you any hint of what she wants? he asked Andie.

No, she hasn’t. But I do sense an extreme amount of distress.

You can say that again, I said.

Do you want me to stay during the embalming procedure? Would that make you feel more comfortable?

Do you think it will keep her quiet? I’m not sure how it will go if I have to do this while she’s screaming. I’d feel like I was hurting her.

I understand, but you can’t hurt her. That’s beyond your reach, but I’m more than happy to keep you company. Then she added as if a thought suddenly entered her mind. Isn’t it illegal to have non-funeral personnel in the room with you during the procedure?

Actually, yes it is, but at this point I don’t care what the laws say. I’ve already broken a few, what’s one more? Besides, what they don’t know won’t hurt them, or me. If anyone is going to hurt me, it’ll be Eleanor who will drive me crazy. So come on down if you think you can keep her quiet.

Chapter Two

Frustrated and angry, I walked into my apartment after a long day of prep on Eleanor Russomanno. Andie sat in the corner during the process and didn’t say a word. I knew she was waiting for Eleanor to communicate with her, but the room remained unnervingly quiet. Usually, I would have my iPod playing loud enough to drown out the noise of the equipment. I would sing along to my favorite songs and sometimes even talk to the dead bodies. I never expected an answer, but today, Andie was hoping for one from the dead body lying on the table, so I left the communication to her.

She didn’t get one. There was no communication; in fact Eleanor didn’t even cry or moan like she had been doing since we brought her to my freezer. Naturally, I was exasperated. I wanted to know why she was hanging around, why she wouldn’t leave, and more importantly, what she wanted me to do, because I was one hundred percent certain there would be something.

I walked into the dining room and stopped. Lately, Captain Gregg kept himself busy during the day and I would find something out of place in the dining room when I got home. Captain Gregg was the name I gave to the specter who was left over from my first encounter with the spirit world. Andie told me the specter would eventually get bored and leave. This one wasn’t leaving and he didn’t seem to get bored, but walking in today and seeing everything in place actually had me swallowing with alarm. When I really thought about it, I was growing rather fond of him and I didn’t want him to leave. I hadn’t admitted that to anyone, even myself…until now.

In the beginning, I had hoped he would go away, but as the months passed, I got used to his antics. I didn’t feel so alone. I began to hope that Captain Gregg wouldn’t want to leave. He was my solace in a lonely world—my apartment. I walked frantically around the dining room looking for something out of place and found it when I got to the table. On it was a picture of Kathi, Matthew’s sister. I’d recently found out she was only his stepsister. It never ceased to amaze me the things you find out after the fact. Matthew never told me he and Kathi weren’t related by blood. And he never told me he was wealthy—an heir to his grandmother’s fortune—or that his father and stepmother were vying for the estate, the one that he had hidden away from them and bequeathed to me.

I sighed heavily. What did this picture mean? I picked it up and looked at the woman I had considered a sister right up until Matthew died. After that, our relationship became strained. Captain Gregg left this here for a reason, he just couldn’t tell me what it was. I knew the answer would present itself soon enough. I smiled, knowing he would always be on my side. Each day, in more ways and with more enthusiasm, he was showing me that fact.

Now that I thought about it, Kathi looked nothing like Matthew or Matthew’s father. She did, however, look very similar to the woman I thought was Matthew’s real mother. It all made sense now. Matthew was taller, five feet ten inches. He had beautiful, shoulder-length brown hair, deep brown eyes, and skin that held a rich, tanned color year-round. Kathi was only five-four, and was on the heavier side of the body fat index. Her blond hair framed green eyes, and her skin was lighter, the kind that always burned in the summer sun no matter how much sunblock you put on. Studying the picture of Kathi and realizing for the first time how much they didn’t resemble each other, I wondered why it never occurred to me to question their relationship. Sighing, I tossed the picture back onto the table. It didn’t matter anymore.

A sudden, loud knock on my door made me jump like a cat that sprang into the air after being scared and then drove its claws into the surface it landed on. I took a few deep breaths to force my rapid pulse to slow down, when all at once I