Ghost in the Polka Dot Bikini: A Ghost of Granny Apples Mystery by Sue Ann Jaffarian Read Free Book Online

especially when she sat watching the sunset. Guess she was chatting with her dead husband.” The man’s tone was one of affectionate amusement.
    Emma’s brain went on alert. “Did she always sit in the same place to watch the sunset?”
    “Sure did. It was one of the benches near the pier—on the right side of the pier if you’re looking out at the sea. She was there every day like clockwork. Still miss seeing her. That’s how we knew something was wrong. The day she died, she didn’t show up. Someone went to her home and found her dead. Her heart had given out just a few hours earlier.”
    After the call, Emma made another, this time to the Catalina Island Museum. A recording informed her that the museum was closed until ten the next morning.
    Phil had stopped reading and was watching and listening. “Good news or bad news?”
    “A little of both. The good news is the papers are archived at the museum, and we can probably research them tomorrow when the museum opens. The bad news is Sandra Sechrest is dead. She died just two months ago at the age of eighty-four.”
    Emma left the bed and walked to the balcony doors and opened them. Stepping out onto the balcony, she gazed out across the beach and sea while her mind sorted through its own archiving system. Sandy Sechrest was the only person who had claimed to see a ghost in a bikini. And every day, Mrs. Sechrest had watched the sunset from a spot on the beach near the pier. Emma turned her head to the right and tried to study the beach down by the pier, down where she had first seen Tessa North that morning. The sun was setting. She checked her watch. It was about four thirty. On a November evening, sunset would be very soon. As if in agreement, the twinkle lights in the palm trees came to life against the waning daylight. Emma shivered in the growing cold.
    Dashing back into the room, she grabbed a jacket and made for the door to the suite. “Want to see the sunset?” she asked Phil over her shoulder as she yanked open the door.
    Phil hopped off the bed, snagged his own jacket, and ran after her. “This a romantic stroll or another march?”
    “I have a hunch. Hurry up or we might miss it.”
    Emma crossed the street in front of the hotel and moved fast along the beachfront toward the pier. Phil caught up and matched her long, quick strides.
    “Miss what?”
    “Sandy Sechrest.”
    “But I thought she was dead.” When Emma gave him a quick glance, he added, “Oh, I see.”
    “According to the man from the newspaper, for years, every day at sunset, Sandy Sechrest came down to the beach to watch the sunset. It’s just a hunch, but you never know.”
    They covered the distance from their hotel to the pier almost at a jog. Once at the pier, Emma slowed down and started scanning the various benches that looked out toward the ocean. What she saw made her screech to a stop.
    “Wow.”
    “Wow what?” Slightly winded, Phil stopped beside her.
    For a full minute, Emma didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure how many there were, but it seemed Sandy Sechrest wasn’t the only one who enjoyed watching the sunset. In the fading daylight, the shimmering outlines of spirits came into view like sequins scattered on a gray velvet gown. She turned slowly in a circle, taking in the section of beach they’d just passed, as well as the section ahead of them. The spirits—male and female, young and old—were all turned toward the sea, all watching the end of the day. Here and there were the living also watching the sun say good night, oblivious to the dead amongst them.
    “What is it, Emma?”
    She leaned in close to Phil so the live folks nearby couldn’t hear her. “There are many ghosts here right now—perhaps a dozen. They’re scattered up and down the beach, watching the sunset like it’s some sort of ritual.”
    Phil jerked this way and that, craning to see something, but he couldn’t. “Are you kidding me?”
    She shook her head. “I don’t recall seeing