All Dressed Up and No Place to Haunt

“Rose Pressey's books are fun!”

—Janet Evanovich

“A delightful protagonist, intriguing twists, and a fashionista ghost combine in a hauntingly fun tale. Definitely haute couture.”

—Carolyn Hart

“If you're a fan of vintage clothing and quirky ghosts, Rose Pressey's
If You've Got It, Haunt It
will ignite your passion for fashion and pique your otherworldly interest. Wind Song, the enigmatic cat, adds another charming layer to the mystery.”

—Denise Swanson

“
If You've Got It, Haunt It
is a stylish mystery full of vintage fashions and modern flair, with a dash of Rose Pressey's trademark paranormal wit for that final touch of panache. Chic and quirky heroine Cookie Chanel and a supporting cast of small-town Southern characters are sure to charm lovers of high fashion and murderous hi-jinks alike.”

—Jennie Bentley

“Absolutely delightful! Prolific author Rose Pressey has penned a delightful mystery full of Southern charm, vintage fashion tips, a ghostly presence and a puzzler of a mystery. With snappy dialogue and well-drawn characters in a lovely small town setting, this thoroughly engaging story has it all.”

—Jenn McKinlay

“Fun, fast-paced, and fashionable,
If You've Got It, Haunt It
is the first in Rose Pressey's appealing new mystery series featuring clever vintage-clothing expert Cookie Chanel. A charming Southern setting, an intriguing murder, a stylish ghost, a tarot-reading cat, and a truly delectable detective combine to make Ms. Pressey's new Haunted Vintage series a sheer delight.”

—Kate Carlisle

“Prolific mystery author Pressey launches a cozy series with an appealing protagonist who is as sweet as a Southern accent. The designer name-dropping and shopping tips from Cookie add allure for shopaholics.”

—
Library Journal

KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Seeing a ghost didn't shock me as much the second time around. Don't get me wrong—it was still strange and a little unnerving, but overall, I thought I handled it quite nicely.

My day had started out to be a fantastic one, but it had gone downhill quickly. A sweeping saga titled
Moonlight and Magnolias
was being shot at Fairtree Plantation, and I'd been invited to watch. The 1850 antebellum mansion made a gorgeous backdrop for the film. Maple, oak, magnolia, and dogwood trees covered the twelve-acre estate. The three-story brick home sat at the end of a tree-lined drive.

Silence surrounded the set as I watched the actors bring the script to life. The lead characters were embraced in a passionate kiss. Of course, ten seconds ago they had been arguing. As the gorgeous Nicole Silver wrapped her arms around her hunky costar, Preston Hart, I noticed the sparkle of the ring she wore. Wow, it was huge. I wondered if it was her own or a stage prop.

I'd never been this close to the action before. I'd once watched a movie being filmed while on vacation in New York City, but we'd been held back by barricades. Now I had a front-row seat for all the action. I was thrilled that I'd managed to get on the set's special guest list. Apparently, helping the film crew with their vintage costumes had perks. My hometown of Sugar Creek, Georgia, had been abuzz since the director had decided to shoot part of his new movie right here in our little town.

It's Vintage, Y'All was the name of my clothing boutique, located in the historic section of town. Since I'd started blogging about my great vintage finds, I'd gotten quite the following of readers. It hadn't taken long before a few movies had asked for my advice with their costumes. This was the biggest film so far though. Nicole Silver and Preston Hart had the kind of star quality that the media loved. I'd read in the tabloids that they were dating in real life.

I had been beyond excited when asked to help with their costumes. Nicole's shiny blond hair cascaded to her shoulders and had been styled like Veronica Lake's, with a peekaboo bang on one side. The black-and-white Christian Dior dress that I'd selected for her hugged her curves in all the right places. Her full red lips seemed to be in a constant pouting position. Preston was tall, dark, and handsome, with strong cheekbones and chiseled features. I'd give anything for his thick eyelashes—even my most recent acquisition, a 1960s Gucci handbag. He wore black trousers and a crisp white shirt with a red-and-ivory small paisley wide swing tie.

Fashion is my passion. I love what Coco Chanel said—“Elegance does not consist in putting on a new dress.” And that was why I wore an Eisenhower-era outfit today. Okay, maybe that wasn't exactly what she'd meant, but nevertheless, it was what I'd gotten from the quote. My name happened to be Cookie Chanel. Funny, right? We weren't related, as far as I knew. When I'd shown such an interest in fashion, I'd been given the clever moniker of Cookie by my granny, instead of Coco, because it fit so well with Chanel—and, I admit, I really loved cookies as a child and I still do. The name fits me, so I still use it to this day.

The movie was set partly in the forties and partly in the present day. I'd had a wonderful time gathering the outfits for the actors. Of course, I had to dress the part too. After all, vintage was my thing. Today, I wore a rayon/chiffon blend red-and-white polka-dot dress. The fitted bodice came down into a princess waist. It had double straps on the shoulders and a pretty red bow in front. I matched it with a red clutch purse and straw wedge heels with a tiny red trim along the edges. It was hard to look glamorous when your hair was plastered to your head from the relentless heat though. Living in Georgia, that was part of life. But no matter what, I made the best of it.

Nicole and Preston finished their scene, disengaging from their embrace and moving apart, their hands touching until they separated. It would be the last take for the day. I intended to stay until I absolutely had to leave. My visit to the set had been so exciting that I didn't want it to end.

Shiloh Northcutt, the costume director, approached. She wore white knee-length shorts and a plain white T-shirt. She had definitely dressed for comfort, but she made it look glamorous nonetheless, with a Louis Vuitton leopard-print scarf and strappy, red high-wedged espadrilles. Wisps of auburn hair framed her slender face.

“Cookie, you've been a lot of help and the costumes were a huge success. I hope you had a fun time today.” She looked at her oversized white rhinestone watch. It looked like it could belong to the captain of a spaceship. Next to it a tattoo of a red rose decorated her pale skin.

“I had a fantastic time.” I'd barely finished the sentence when Shiloh walked off to greet someone else.

Her abrupt departure was a bit rude, but I figured she was just distracted by all the action. Now that filming was over, I decided to take a walk around the property. I'd never been to the plantation before, and I'd always wanted to get a closer look.

The smell of honeysuckle drifted across the warm summer air as I stepped through the flower garden. A moss-covered stone path led to a patio surrounded by rose bushes. Beyond the flowers, tall hedges provided a green shield from the rest of the property. Moving over to a finely carved wooden bench, I sat down and inhaled the sweet floral perfume. Voices soon caught my attention.

I leaned to my right, hoping to hear what was being said. If you want to call me a snoop, go ahead. I just couldn't resist, especially with celebrities on the loose. My grandma used to say that I was as curious as a cat in a bird feeder, and I guess she was right. The words were too muffled, so I pushed to my feet and headed toward the sound. When I reached the hedges, I realized the conversation was being held just on the other side. I eased over to the edge and peeked around.

Nicole and Preston were facing each other. Her arms were crossed in front of her waist in a defensive stance. This definitely wasn't a scene from the movie. She glared at her costar. When he reached out and touched her arm, she jerked away, and I heard the phrase “with her of all people.” I didn't see the sparkly ring she'd been wearing in the film scene. Maybe it was just a prop, after all. Not wanting to be caught watching their private discussion, I summoned my willpower, set aside my curiosity, inched back, and tiptoed toward the front of the plantation.

On my way back to my car, I ran into a few actors who asked me about the vintage clothing—where I found it, how I took care of it, the research I did to assemble the outfits for the film. After speaking with them for about twenty minutes, I spotted Shiloh again. I'd forgotten to ask her when the clothing would be returned. My plan was to auction the items off and donate the proceeds to a charity. Shiloh was so engrossed in a conversation with another member of the film crew that she didn't see me walking her way. I recognized the leggy blonde she spoke to as someone who worked with Shiloh in the costume department.

As I neared the women, I heard my name. They still didn't notice that I was headed in their direction though. I stepped behind a nearby hedge and listened. If anyone saw me hiding in the bushes, they would probably think I'd lost my mind.

“Well, I'm not happy with any of the clothing that she brought,” Shiloh said.

My mouth dropped. She'd acted as if she loved the items that I'd provided. Why hadn't she mentioned this to me? If she'd told me earlier, I would have been willing to work with her and get the clothing that would have made her happy.

“I guess there's nothing you can do about it now. I'm sure everything will be fine,” the other woman said.

“It'll have to be.” Disgust filled Shiloh's voice.

The women moved down the path in my direction, so I headed the opposite way. I didn't feel like having a confrontation. If I asked Shiloh why she didn't express her unhappiness with me about the outfits I'd selected, I would have to admit that I had spied on her conversation.

I figured I would walk a bit until they were safely gone; then I'd go back to my car and get the heck out of there. I didn't want to chance any more hiding in bushes. The third time might be one too many.

To my right I noticed a pond. It was on the edge of the Fairtree Plantation's property. I decided to walk over and take a look at it as a way to spend a few more minutes. Once I reached the water's edge, I wasn't sure what made me look to my left, but I noticed the body floating facedown on the surface right away.

I knew by the dress that it was Nicole Silver. As I ran closer, I pulled out my cell phone. Before I had a chance to dial, a scream sounded behind me. I glanced back and saw several panicked people running at full speed toward the pond. The movie director sprinted past me and jumped in the water, dragging Nicole's lifeless body onto the grass. A chill ran up my spine, and I felt tears leaping to my eyes, even though I had barely met the actress.

The white-and-black dress had been a part of the wardrobe I'd found for Nicole. A woman in the town next to ours had donated her grandmother's things for the charity auction. As I watched the surreal scene play out in front of me, I heard a woman clear her throat. I looked to my left and saw a stranger standing beside me. Her chestnut-brown hair was twisted into an updo, and she wore a pink dress in a style similar to the one that Nicole had been wearing. It wasn't a dress that I'd given the costume director. I would remember it, if it had been one of mine.

This must have been a dress that the film crew had before they arrived in Sugar Creek. It was a lovely piece, and I was a little jealous that I hadn't found it myself. The woman wearing it must have been an extra.

“This is just terrible,” she said with a shake of her head.

“So sad,” I agreed. “Were you in the film with her?”

“No, but that's my dress she's wearing,” she said matter-of-factly.

I looked at her more closely and realized she had a translucent glow that had nothing to do with the film makeup or lighting. This was no cast extra. Her appearance seemed grainy at first, but slowly she became more solid. She was a ghost.

Oh no, not again.