Haunted Guest House Mystery 03-Old Haunts by E. J. Copperman Read Free Book Online

without mentioning that Maxie was available for corroboration would be tricky. “Maxie’s murderer was caught,” I told Luther. “It had nothing to do with Big Bob.” Okay, maybe not so tricky.
    Paul stuck his head down through the kitchen ceiling and looked confused. Glad to see him, I mouthed the name “Maxie” at him. He nodded, and vanished back up through the ceiling.
    “Are you okay?” Luther asked. “Does your jaw hurt or something?”
    “I had something stuck in my teeth,” I told him. I had to stall just a little so Maxie and Paul could hear the whole conversation.
    Mrs. Spassky stuck her head in through the swinging kitchen door. “Sorry to bother you, Alison dear,” she said.
    “No bother, Mrs. Spassky. Do you need something?” Keep talking until Paul and Maxie get here, okay? Nice guest.
    “The name of a store where we can get salt-water taffy. My sister says you can’t vacation at the beach and not bring home salt-water taffy.” Mrs. Spassky’s eyes rolled just a bit; she clearly thought Mrs. Fischer was being silly. Then she caught sight of Luther, and examined him closely. No doubt she was comparing him to Steven, whom she still saw as my husband.
    “I know just the place,” I told her. “Sweet Tooth, at the corner of Harbor Avenue and North Haven.”
    Mrs. Spassky gave Luther a few more ogles and nodded without making eye contact. “Thank you, dear.” She left the kitchen just as Paul and Maxie appeared through the kitchen wall. Paul still had a quizzical look on his face, but Maxie stopped in what would have been her tracks if she’d been walking. Her hand went to her mouth.
    “Luther,” she whispered.
    Luther’s head turned a little, as if he’d heard his name spoken. But he just blinked, and looked back at me.
    “You came here to talk to Phyllis at the Chronicle ,” I said, to distract Luther. Didn’t want him thinking he might have heard a voice. “How did that lead to your looking for a detective?”
    “I wasn’t looking for a detective,” Luther said. “It hadn’t occurred to me before your friend mentioned you had a license, and then it seemed the logical thing—you have a mystery; you hire a detective.”
    “There are plenty in the phone book,” I said. “I’ll recommend one.” I didn’t actually know any, but I could pick a name out of the Yellow Pages as well or better than most.
    “No, it has to be someone who cares. You told me before a little bit about your connection. Maxie owned this house, and now you own it. That’s too huge to be a coincidence. It’s magic, or luck, or Maxie’s spirit, or something.”
    Maxie grinned at me and mouthed the word spirit . She clearly found that hilarious.
    “It’s just a coincidence,” I said.
    Luther shook his head. “I saw Big Bob just before he disappeared. He said he was coming here to Harbor Haven.” Luther still looked a little spooked (pardon the expression), but was focusing again on my question. “Something about visiting his ex-wife.”
    Maxie gasped.
    “Why?” I asked.
    Luther nodded, and took off his dark sunglasses. His eyes were narrow, as if constantly squinting into the sun. And he was facing away from the window. “I’m not sure,” he said, “but he always felt bad about the way it ended. He’d just found out Maxie was here, and he said he was going to go see her, maybe he could make things right.”
    Maxie was listening with an expression of incredulity. She appeared to be crying, although there were no tears falling from her eyes.
    “He wanted to reconcile with his wife?” I asked. That had seemed the way Luther’s story was headed.
    “I don’t know,” he answered. “He said it was all about just making it up to her about the way they’d split, but he might have wanted to start back up again. He really loved Maxie. If you knew her, you’d understand.”
    “I’ll bet,” I said before I thought about it.
    “Bet your ass,” Maxie retorted, her voice scratchy.
    Luther