The Girl with the Uninvited Ghost: Pandemonium Cozy Mystery #1

Chapter 38

Several hours later, the officers departed with most of the Haughty Hemlock's stock, leaving the shelves empty. Mahogany locked the door behind them and turned the sign from open to closed.

She sighed, headed into the kitchen, and surveyed the mess wrought by the searching officers. The chaos before her caused an eerie sensation to crawl over Mahogany's scalp. Her home resembled the brownstone the night of the murders and Tony's after the break-in.

"The letters!" Mahogany raced to the writing desk. The police had gracelessly wrenched open the locked drawer containing the letters from Thaddeus.

"They're gone," Guy said, blinking at Mahogany. "Now they have a motive for our deaths."

"This day stinks." Mahogany covered her face with her hands and took a long, deep breath. "There's nothing I can do about it now. I need to focus on tidying this place."

Guy gazed at Mahogany. His mouth turned down in a frown. "I wish I could help."

Mahogany nodded. "Lucky you," she said.

"Maybe you could call Tony and Evelina?" Guy suggested.

"Guy," Mahogany said, pulling her phone from her pocket, "that's the first good idea you've had since you died."

"Hey, I resent that," Guy said, folding her arms over his chest and sticking his chin out. "I'm glad I can't help you clean up this mess." Mock indignation peppered his tone.

Mahogany's thumb flew over the surface of her phone, tapping out a text message: Neema arrested. Place tossed by cops.

Seconds later, her phone chirped. It was Tony: Getting my shift covered. Be there soon.

A slow smile spread across Mahogany's face. Maybe Evelina wouldn't be able to make it for a while, and she and Tony could have more alone time.

Her phone chirped again. This time it was Evelina: On my way!

"Oh, well. Many hands make light work, or something like that," Mahogany said, pocketing her phone. She picked up the discarded silverware and placed it in the dishwasher before moving to the next pile. She worked her way through the kitchen, refilling drawers with their contents and sliding them back into their homes, when Guy startled her from her thoughts.

"Something's wrong with Bazgul." Guy's voice was urgent. The ghost stood at the kitchen window next to the back door.

"What do you mean?" Mahogany stood, dropping a pile of pens into a drawer, and joined Guy at the window.

Bazgul lay on the asphalt on his back. His fuzzy legs against his abdomen as if in death. Next to him lay a half-digested baby bird.

Mahogany jumped to the back door, yanked it open, and flew down the steps. She scooped Bazgul in her hands with the gentleness of a mother hen and cradled him against her chest. "Bazzy, what's happened to you?" she whispered.

Bazgul's limbs twitched. The scent of licorice and mint drifted off him.

"Priscilla Wembley," Mahogany whispered and spirited him inside.

"Priscilla Wembley?" Guy said. He moved away from the window and followed Mahogany to set Bazgul on the kitchen island.

"It's the same scent from the library the night Priscilla died." Mahogany grabbed a kitchen towel and folded it to create a tiny cushion for Bazgul.

"Poison?" Guy looked at the bowl of herbs in the window, then at the open back door. "If so, the murdered must have left the poison outside for Bazgul to find. There's no way they could have gotten into the house. Bazgul must have slipped through the cracks in the frame to get to the bird."