Nothing to Ghost About (12 page)

By the time Ian had
finished saying Grace and praying for all the misguided heathens
and the person who was possessed by the Demon Alcohol—no prizes for
guessing who
that
was—I thought the food would have gone cold. Mom wasted no
time in saying what was on her mind. “Basil, I don’t think it’s
appropriate that you work for us anymore. Ian and I have been
talking about it, and it’s simply not appropriate.”

“
Ian and you have been
talking about it?” I said in a cold voice. “Well, Ian has nothing
to do with the funeral home. Nor do you, for that matter. It
is
my
funeral
home. It is
my
business, and no one else has any say in it.”

Mom appeared unperturbed. “Basil does
not go to my church,” she said smugly. “I’m sorry. Ian and I have
been talking, and that’s our decision.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. “You’ve
been talking? Your decision? Let me repeat this, and I’m going to
say it slowly so it sinks in. Ian doesn’t work for me. Ian doesn’t
get to decide anything. And for that matter, neither do you. You
work for me, Mom. And to be honest, I’m likely to fire you long
before I’ll get rid of Basil.”

My mother looked at me with an open
mouth. Ian put his hand over his heart in the most feigned display
of surprise I’d ever seen. Basil seemed to be amused by the
scene.

I was no longer embarrassed. Rather, I
was furious, or to use an expression of my mother’s, I was ‘livid
with rage’.

“
It’s nothing against you,
Mr. Sandalwood,” Ian said. “It’s just that Thelma is concerned
because Laurel is New Age. I’m sure you can see that with Laurel
running the funeral home and being New Age, we’re worried that you
are a heathen as well. Surely you can see our concerns?”

“
No,” Basil said flatly. He
turned to me. “You’re New Age?”

I shrugged. “Apparently so. I have
scented candles and crystals in my room.”

“
Crystals?” John Jones
gasped. “They are tools of the D-word himself!”

“
The D-word?” I asked. This
was a new one on me.

“
I don’t glorify the D-word
by saying his name out loud,” John said in the most sanctimonious
tone imaginable. “And crystals are his tools.”

“
But crystals come from the
ground,” I said. “Didn’t God make them? Isn’t that what you said,
Mom, that God made the earth and everything in it?’

Mom was flustered for a moment. “You
always twist my words, Laurel, you little brat. Of course God
didn’t make crystals.”

John and Ian nodded.

That floored me. I had no idea how to
respond, so I just shoveled food into my mouth.

“
You don’t share your
mother’s views?” Basil asked me.

I signaled that I had food in my
mouth, and then tried to swallow it quickly. That only succeeded in
making me choke. John Jones leaped to his feet and placed both his
hands on my back.

“
Please don’t touch me!” I
said, after I managed to swallow the food.

“
I was praying for you,” he
said in an offended tone.

“
You didn’t need to touch
me for that,” I protested.

“
Oh yes, he did,” Mom said,
as quick as a flash. “When you pray for healing, you have to place
your hands on the affected part.”

Ian and John murmured their
agreement.

“
But what if someone has
hemorrhoids?” I said without thinking. I mean, it sounded logical
to me, and I wasn’t prepared for the reaction.

“
Laurel!” Mom said loudly.
“I will not have such words used at my table!”

Ian and John Jones gasped in unison
and covered their mouths with their hands. I ignored them, and
turned to Basil. “No,” I said firmly. “I do not share my mother’s
views. I do not share Ian’s views, or John’s views for that
matter.” I glared at the three of them in turn. “And, Mom, is this
why you invited Basil for dinner, to try to fire him?” I turned
back to Basil. “I’m sorry about this.”

Basil lifted his hands, a gesture
either of helplessness or sympathy—I had no idea which.

Mom scowled at me. “Why do you always
twist my words?” She used her whining voice, the one she used to
gain sympathy. “You can see what she’s doing, can’t you,
Ian?”

Ian shot me a glare. “I certainly
can.” He turned back to my mother. “I don’t know how you’ve
survived all these years with a child like that.”

I took a deep breath and held my head
in my hands. I couldn’t have been more embarrassed. Whatever would
Basil think of me now?

Mom made a big show of dabbing at fake
tears with a tissue. “Laurel, I simply told Basil that I wasn’t
happy with him. I thought inviting him to dinner would be a nice
way to fire him.”

“
Mom, I’ve said it before
and I’ll say it again,” I said loudly. “Who I employ is my
decision, not yours, and definitely not Ian’s. I don’t care to hear
John’s views at any time, and that’s the end of the conversation.”
I slammed my open hand down on the table as hard as I could. It
hurt like hell. I placed it back under the table, and gritted my
teeth. Showing my pain would spoil the moment.

Mom, Ian, and John stared at me with
their mouths agape.

I looked straight into my mother’s
face and said, “And there had better be dessert!”

Chapter 17

It was a humid day. Humidity was
unusual for the mountainous region of New England, Australia. The
heat here was normally dry, but thunderstorms were invariably
preceded by hours of humidity.

The storm was building. The thick
black clouds looked angry, and still the sun beat down
relentlessly. The air all but crackled with electricity.

I had trouble finding somewhere to
park and had to drive around the block three times. Finally, I
managed to wedge my car into a small space. I just hate it when
drivers take up two parking spaces.

I texted Tara: ‘Almost there.’ I was
looking forward to telling Tara all about the insidious dinner of
the previous night. In fact, telling Tara my problems was like
therapy, only free.

I arrived at the café’s al fresco area
and looked for Tara. I didn’t see her in the first sweep. In front
of me was a woman holding a sandwich in both hands. She reminded me
of a possum, the way she was hunched over and nibbling her prize as
if a bigger possum would swoop in and steal it at any moment. Next
to her were a young man and a young woman. Both were dressed very
nicely for lunch, but were oblivious to one another. I figured they
were on a date, but they were busy texting. Perhaps they were
texting each other.

“
Laurel, there you are!”
Tara called out. “Over here!”

I made my way past the crowded tables
to Tara. To my dismay, Janet was with her. “It’s so crowded here
today,” I said as I sat down. “Perhaps next time we could try that
new health food café.”

Janet snorted rudely. “Health food!
Green smoothies break me right out in strange places. Have you ever
had a rash on your…”

“
The new healthy café would
be great!” Tara interrupted shrilly. She had clearly had enough of
Janet’s straight talking. “Anyway, Laurel, I ordered you a latte
when you texted me, but I didn’t know what you wanted to
eat.”

Janet poked my arm. “A celery stick,
most likely.” She snorted so loudly that other patrons turned to
look. “Laurel’s a human rabbit. We’ve got to get some protein into
her. That whole lettuce and tofu thing just isn’t
natural.”

I looked at the half-eaten burger on
Janet’s plate. A charred beef patty, a fried egg, oozing cheese or
some other yellow substance, bacon poking out the sides, not to
mention all the fried onion rings. Janet’s lunch was as far from
natural as it got. I could almost hear the cholesterol sloshing
around in her veins.

Still, I dared not comment, as I knew
only too well what fried foods did to Janet. She was quite
outspoken about it. I did not want to hear about it
again.

Janet stood up abruptly. “I have to
go. This is getting boring.”

When Janet left, Tara slumped in her
chair and sighed deeply.

“
What happened?”

“
You don’t want to know,”
Tara said. “Anyway, tell me in detail everything that happened
between you and the mysterious weirdo, Basil.” She leaned forward
expectantly.

“
He’s not a weirdo,” I
said. When Tara raised her eyebrows, I added, “Okay, he’s a little
strange.”

Tara grinned. “You two must have made
up if you’re defending him. Did he dump the wicked witch of the
tabloids and proclaim his undying love for you?”

I snorted rudely. “Hardly!”

“
So nothing’s changed?”
Tara slumped in her seat, her disappointment obvious. “So what
could’ve happened at the dinner that you couldn’t talk about over
the phone?”

At the mention of that dinner, my
heart beat rapidly.

“
Soy latte?” a voice said
behind me.

I jumped. The waitress placed the
latte in front of me, while Tara raised her eyebrows.

“
You’re so jumpy today. Was
dinner that bad?’

I shook my head. “Much worse.” I took
a sip of the latte. It was as weak as dishwater, but as Tara had
bought it for me, I could hardly comment. I only came to this café
when Tara invited me. Their coffee was always bland, and their food
wasn’t much better. “I didn’t want to call you to tell you because
I went to bed as soon as Basil left. John Jones and Ian were still
there. I wouldn’t put it past any of them to listen outside my
door. Plus there was too much to text—that’s why I said we should
meet for coffee.”

Tara giggled. “John Jones, your future
husband?”

“
That’s not funny!” I
pulled a face. “He’s unbearable! He’s almost as bad as Mom. I
really need to get that apartment over the funeral home renovated
and move in. I have
got
to get out of Mom’s house.”

“
Why haven’t you started
renovating it yet?”

I rubbed my temples. “I’ve been
consumed with the business. Don’t forget, the business wasn’t in a
good state when I took it over, so I’ve had to build it up. Plus,
as soon as I got back, I had to get my head around the fact that
I’d inherited the business, and then there was Tiffany’s murder,
and now there’s Preston Kerr’s murder. I’ve been so busy that I
haven’t had any time to think.”

The waitress came back, pen and paper
in hand, ready to take my order.

“
Nothing to eat, thanks,” I
said. When she left, I added, “After last night, I’ve lost my
appetite.”

Tara nodded. “Is there much to do in
the apartment?”

I groaned. “Dad used it as a storage
area for years, so it needs cleaning out. It has a ghastly
old-fashioned bright orange bathroom, with those hideous sixties
tiles. You know, the orange tiles with yellow concentric circles
drawn on them?” When Tara nodded, I pressed on. “The kitchen is
tiny and has laminate countertops, but it’s okay, I guess. The
plumbing isn’t connected, so I’d have to get a plumber. The
apartment was half built when Dad bought the funeral home, and it
was never finished. I wasn’t born then.”

Tara tapped her chin with a finger.
“Why don’t you ask Basil if you can claim it as a tax
deduction?”

“
Good idea.” I chuckled.
“Is that your way of bringing the subject back to
Basil?”

Tara laughed. “Well, no, and yes. You
still haven’t told me what happened.”

“
It was a nightmare dinner
with Mom, Ian, and John. Like I texted you last night, Mom invited
Basil over to try to fire him. Can you believe that? The nerve of
her! I put my foot down, and Ian and John were shocked. Mom was,
too.” I laughed, remembering the looks on their faces.

Tara laughed, too. “I wish I’d been
there to see you tell off your Mom.”

“
She wasn’t game to say
anything to me for the rest of the night, but I bet she said plenty
after I went to bed. Gosh, it’s so hot!” I picked up a napkin and
fanned myself.

Tara followed suit. “I thought there’d
be a breeze with the storm coming. Anyway, get to the point!
Basil?”

I scratched my neck where a mosquito
had just bitten me. “He was tense at first, but he did seem happy
that I don’t share Mom’s views. I wonder if he thought…” My voice
trailed away.

“
That you would try to
convert him with every breath?” Tara filled in, looking skeptical.
“If he hasn’t figured out that you’re nothing like Thelma by now,
then he’s a pretty hopeless cause.”

“
I don’t know.”

Tara chewed on her bottom lip
thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, I think his ex-fiancée was
fairly religious. Don’t quote me, though. It wasn’t like I hung out
with her crowd. He keeps to himself pretty much. Maybe he’s into
something that he thinks you’ll frown upon.”

“
Like what?” I
asked.

Tara shrugged. “I’d be happy for you
if it worked out, Laurel, but don’t get your hopes up too high. If
I knew why his fiancée stormed off the way she did, maybe I could
offer better encouragement than that. But just deal with this with
eyes-wide-open. Okay? I don’t want you to get crushed by those mood
swings of his again.”