Ghostly Manners
Author: K. E. O'Connor
Date: 2016-12-14 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: female sleuth; Cozy paranormal; Cozy mystery with animals; cozy murder; Cozy ghost mystery
Description: What really happened to Beatrice Galbraith three years ago?Lorna Shadow, personal assistant to the wealthy and upper class, is pushed into answering this question when she starts a new job at Galbraith Manor. Little does Lorna know, her questioning will put her own life at risk.Not only can Lorna type like an imp who has downed several large espressos, she also sees ghosts. And they can see her, and won't leave her alone until she's helped them.The ghost at the manor house, Beatrice Galbraith, led a quiet life, secluded in the family estate, with her beloved dogs for company, her eccentric bro

Ghostly Manners (Lorna Shadow cozy ghost mystery, Book 1)

K.E. O'Connor

Published by K.E. O'Connor, 2016.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

GHOSTLY MANNERS (LORNA SHADOW COZY GHOST MYSTERY, BOOK 1)

First edition. December 14, 2016.

Copyright © 2016 K.E. O'Connor.

Written by K.E. O'Connor.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 1

“How about the personal assistant to a Latin prince?” I circled the wanted ad in my copy of the Lady magazine with a red pen.

“We both know what Latin princes are like.” My best friend, Helen Holliday, raised a pale blonde eyebrow as she regarded me over the top of her newspaper. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the experience in the faux chateau with Prince Leopold the Third? I still have his handprint on my backside.”

“That's not an experience I'm ever going to forget.” I grimaced at the memory of our rather too hands-on former employer.

“He must have smacked my behind a dozen times before I threatened to break his fingers.”

“I do remember shortly after you had that interesting conversation with him, we were looking for another job.” I held aloft my copy of the wanted ads and grinned at Helen. She was the light to my dark, a mess of blonde curls, bright blue eyes, and killer curves. I was darker, with hip bones that jutted out and a dependence on padded bras to give me shape. We had grown up together and now shared a compact two bed apartment on the outskirts of Oxfordshire.

“It was time for a change,” said Helen. “Other than a Latin prince needing staff, what other jobs are available to test our extraordinary skills?”

“The pickings aren’t great this month,” I said with a sigh. Helen and I worked as a team; Helen was a seamstress and laundress extraordinaire, who could get the stains out of anything, and was a genius with a needle. And I was a whizz when it came to paperwork. Give me a pile of filing or some letters to type, and I was your go to girl.

“So far, I’ve seen a part-time pig handler role I’m interested in or a domestic servant to some crumbling sounding estate that’s over five hundred miles away,” said Helen. “Nothing the two of us can do.”

“I can see you in overalls, a pig staff in hand, as you try to round up some noisy porkers,” I said.

“It doesn’t sound so different to some of the jobs I’ve had to do in the past.” The late morning sun slanted through the sash window behind her and lit Helen up like an angel. “Remember that dreadful uniform Viscount Templeton ordered me to wear? I swear the hem on the dress was about two inches from indecency.”

“Which was why he wanted you to wear it.” Helen’s legs were long and toned. Any man would have trouble not leering at them when she got her pins out. “And don’t forget, he tried to get me to put on some sexy secretary glasses and gaze over the top of them at him while I did his dictation.”

“So we’re looking for a non-sleazy boss this time around,” said Helen. “Someone who pays us what we’re owed and leaves us alone so we don’t need to lock our doors at night.”

“That sounds like the perfect job.” In truth, most of the jobs we went to were fine. We specialised in working for the well-to-do and aristocracy. The jobs were well paid, and all of them gave us the opportunity to live in some of the most beautiful parts of the UK, and sometimes abroad, and revel in the castles, stately homes, and manor houses we often found ourselves in. I’d never be able to afford a slice of life like that if it weren’t for my job. Plus, it meant we weren’t tied to any one location and could go exploring whenever we fancied, using our tiny but cozy apartment as a bolt hole when we needed a holiday from all the poshness and old fashioned etiquette that could sometimes drive you mad.

The door to the living room crashed open and Flipper, my scruffy mixed breed dog, dashed through. He launched himself at me onto the flower covered chair I was curled in, and I was smothered by his warm doggy smell as he pressed his nose against my neck.

“Someone wants a walk,” said Helen.

“We only went out a few hours ago.” I scratched behind Flipper’s ears as he continued to nestle in my arms. It wasn't the most comfortable experience; Flipper was a chunky dog. But I'd cuddled him like this since he was a puppy, and the habit stuck, even as he grew.

“I’m sure he’s got some collie in him,” said Helen. “He’s always full of energy, like a child who’s just eaten a bag of sugar coated sweets.”

“You’re probably right. But before we go for any walks, we need to find a job to apply for,” I said. “And it needs to be dog friendly. I’m not leaving Flipper behind; he hates to be on his own.”

As if he’d heard and understood what I’d said, Flipper whined and licked the back of my hand. I’d had Flipper since he was a puppy, discovering him abandoned by the side of the road five years ago, a small bag of food and a tatty looking toy in a bag next to him with a scribbled note attached. Apparently, his former owner decided a puppy was too much work and couldn’t be bothered taking him to a shelter.

One look at those sad blue eyes surrounded by messy fur, and I’d been suckered in. I'd scooped him up, gave him a bath, food, and lots of cuddles and that was it, partners for life. He’d barely left my side since then, apart from one short-lived attempt when I worked away from home without him. That had ended in a chewed sofa and three pairs of shoes I’d had to destroy. When I took on a new job these days, it was always with the condition that Flipper and Helen came with me. We were like the Three Musketeers, just without the swords, or fighting skills, or horses. So not really like them at all.

I shifted the magazine from underneath Flipper’s belly and turned the page. “How about this?” I said, after a moment of reading through the ads. “Personal assistant to Lord Galbraith and domestic assistant for general household duties. Immediate start and good rates of pay. Accommodation included. Couples welcome.”

“We could be a couple,” said Helen.

“The advert doesn’t specify what gender the couple needs to be,” I said. “I wonder if they’ll take Flipper as well?”

“These old houses usually accommodate dogs. And Flipper is such a good boy, who wouldn’t want to have him around?” Clearly revelling in the attention Helen was giving him, Flipper jumped off my lap and loped over to her.

“He’s such a turncoat.” I lifted my phone and dialed the number on the advert.

“You’re going to apply now?” Helen stroked her fingers through Flipper’s dark grey fur. In certain light, he looked almost wolf-like, with his grey markings and ice blue eyes.

“Why not? We need a job, and this could be ideal for us.”

The call connected. “Galbraith Manor,” said an extremely posh male voice.

“Hello, my name is Lorna Shadow. I’m inquiring about the positions you have advertised in the Lady magazine. Are they still available?”

“Yes, the positions are still vacant,” said the posh man. “In fact, I placed the advertisement myself. I’m Lord Sylvester Galbraith the Fifth. Are you interested in a particular role?”

“I’m interested in both of them,” I said. “I’m an experienced personal assistant, and my partner is a skilled laundress and seamstress.”

“You would be coming together as a couple?” asked Lord Galbraith.

“If that is acceptable. I can send you references and details of my experience.” I gave a discrete thumbs-up to Helen who sat snuggled on the sofa with Flipper, both of them listening to my conversation.

“Your details would be most appreciated,” said Lord Galbraith. “I am in somewhat dire need of a personal assistant. My previous girl left on maternity leave. She promised to come back, but it would appear the allure of a baby is more enticing than I am. Never could understand that myself. Babies make so much noise and mess.”

“So I’ve been told.” I didn’t have children of my own. Maybe one day, but it would take a special man to make me give up my independence. Besides, Flipper was my baby. Fur babies I could handle.

“You say you have experience working in a personal assistant capacity?” asked Lord Galbraith.

“I have five years’ experience as a personal assistant. I have been assistant to Count Carnarvon and Viscount Reedswell.”

“Excellent! Berty and Simon are friends of mine,” said Lord Galbraith brightly. “I will be sure to speak to them and get recommendations of your work.”

“Please do so.” I knew they would give me good references. I had enjoyed working for both men, especially Viscount Reedswell, who was partial to having afternoon tea with fancy cakes and champagne every day. He always invited me to join him, and I often said yes. It meant I’d gained half a stone while I worked for him, but those cakes were worth it.

“If you’ve worked for both of those chaps, and they can vouch for you, then I see no reason to go through any formal interview,” said Lord Galbraith. “If you send me your CV and your partner’s details, I will check them over, and give old Bertie and Simon a call. It’s been too long since I’ve spoken to them. If they say you’re good for the role, then I will believe them.”

“Thank you so much,” I said. “And you want an immediate start?”

“That’s right,” said Lord Galbraith. “I was somewhat tardy in placing the advertisement for help, and I’m afraid things have gotten a little out of control here. You will have your work cut out for you by joining the household. But I assure you, we are a fair and friendly bunch. If you work hard, we will reward you for that. And if you were able to get my old friend Berty into shape, I will be a pussycat in comparison.”

“I would be happy to accept,” I said. “There is just one small thing I want to ask you before I do.”

“Go ahead,” said Lord Galbraith.

I took a deep breath, knowing this revelation might destroy the job prospect. “I have a medical condition, which means I sometimes faint.”

“You faint!”

“It’s nothing serious, and I assure you it doesn’t affect my work,” I said swiftly. “But I have a companion dog who comes with me. He acts as an early warning system to alert me if I am about to faint. He is well-trained and extremely loyal, and you won’t even know he is there. But it would mean an awful lot to me if I can bring him to the house, as well, for peace of mind if nothing else.”

“I see no reason why he cannot accompany you,” said Lord Galbraith after a short pause. “I’m rather partial to dogs, although I don’t have any of my own at the moment.”

“He is excellent company and friendly. If you ever wanted to walk him, he’d be happy to come with you.”

“That’s a lovely idea,” said Lord Galbraith. “And you are certain this medical condition of yours will not interfere with your daily duties? I don’t like to discriminate, but if you are unwell, perhaps you should be in a hospital, not coming to work for me.”

I stifled a laugh; if only he knew the truth. “My work will be unaffected by this. And with my dog by my side, I always know if I need to take a break. But I guarantee you I will be committed to the work, and it will not impact anything I do in my role.”

“Good enough for me,” said Lord Galbraith. “Let’s get the details sorted, and we can start with a three month trial. If all goes well, you may like to stay here on a permanent basis. Good staff are hard to find.”

I took down a few more details from Lord Galbraith, emailed him my CV while we were on the phone, and said my goodbyes.

“You’re such a liar,” said Helen. “Fainting fits!”

“I can hardly say I have a built-in ghost detector, can I? That would be a sure-fire way of never getting paid work again.” That was a special skill I never listed to potential employers. I’d been able to see ghosts ever since I’d almost drowned as a child. When I'd come to after that frightening incident, I had a fear of water and a knack for seeing ghosts. And as for Flipper being my companion dog, he was actually my own furry ghost detector, giving me a heads-up whenever one was about to appear.

“I think listing ghostbuster in your summary of special skills would be a good thing.” Helen knew all about my special ability. Having grown up together, she was used to me speaking to ghosts. But what convinced her my ghost friends were real was when her Grandma appeared to me and told Helen off for weeing in the kettle when she was five years old. Since I’d revealed that nugget of information, Helen was a true believer when it came to me seeing ghosts.

“Ghostbusting aside, if all goes well, we could be in a new job by the end of the day.”

“How exciting,” said Helen. “I’ve got a new mix of stain remover I’ve been longing to try.” Helen was geekily obsessed with cleaning products and loved nothing more than spending hours in the kitchen mixing all kinds of pastes and liquids.

“You do know how to let your hair down,” I teased.

“I aim to do my best work for our demanding clients.” She thumbed her nose at me. “And you know how demanding our posh lot can be. Everything needs to be starched, crease free, and not a stain to be seen.”

Our employers were demanding, but it was one of the reasons I liked to work for them. I had high standards and liked to do the best possible job I could for the people I worked with. The fact they paid me well and gave me beautiful accommodation to live in were added bonuses.

“Let’s hope this one wants us to stay long-term.” It had been several months since either of us had been in full-time work, and bills did not magically pay themselves.

“I have a good feeling about these jobs,” said Helen.

An hour later, so did I, having received a phone call from Lord Galbraith, confirming Helen and I could start our jobs immediately.

I put the phone down and turned to Helen. “Pack your bags; we’re going to the manor house.”

Chapter 2

A frantic hour of packing followed, before Helen, Flipper, and I were traveling the two hundred miles in my small, dark blue car, heading towards Galbraith Manor.

The manor house was located in the depths of the Wiltshire countryside, a beautiful, and ridiculously expensive part of the country, full of millionaires and retired bankers.

I slowed the car as several pheasants dashed out from one side of the narrow lane we cruised along. I was used to the tiny back lanes many of our clients lived down. The very wealthy liked their privacy, and they liked their fancy houses surrounded by lush grounds.

“Shift over a bit, Flipper,” said Helen from the back seat, where Flipper was sprawled over her shoulder half asleep. Most dogs got overexcited by being in a car, knowing they were heading out for a walk. Flipper was the opposite; sit him in a car and he was asleep in seconds, just like a baby. And he was my baby, just covered in fur and weighing fifty pounds.

“You should sit up front with me,” I said.

“He’d only join us if I did that,” said Helen. “And besides, you drive too fast. I’d end up not seeing any of the journey because I’d have my eyes closed, hoping you didn’t crash into anything.”

“My driving is fine.” I was a little speedy at times, but I knew how to handle a car.

“The back seat means I can stretch out more,” said Helen. “That is, when your dog isn’t squashing me half to death.”

Flipper grumbled as if reprimanding Helen.

“If you look to the left,” I said, “you should get a glimpse of the manor house soon.” Late afternoon sunshine spiked through the summer shade provided by the trees I drove past. It was already late summer, and there wouldn’t be many weeks before hints of autumn slipped in to join us, and I’d soon be digging out my long boots and tights. Summer never lasted for long in this part of the world.

“I can see it,” said Helen. “It’s a pale sandstone coloured building. Is that the right one?”

“Sounds like the description Lord Galbraith gave me,” I said. “Keep an eye out for the private driveway. They don’t always put signposts up, so they can be tricky to spot.”

We drove for another half a mile before Helen thumped the back of my seat, jerking Flipper awake as she did so. “That looks like a road to me.”

I stopped the car and peered into the dense undergrowth. Barely visible was a gravel driveway and, beyond that, a large black metal gate.

“Let’s go see.” I turned into the driveway and crept along as bushes swiped at the car.

We arrived at the closed gates, and after waiting a few seconds to see if they would open, I hopped out of the car and searched around for a buzzer or intercom to let us inside. The air was warm, and crickets buzzed lazily in the scrubby grass.

“What’s the hold-up?” called Helen from inside the car.

“No sign of how to get in,” I said. “I thought the gates would be open, since they’re expecting us.”

A large, sleek black sedan pulled up behind my car, and its horn was beeped several times.

I hurried over to the sedan and waited by the driver’s window until it slid down.

“Are you lost?” asked the driver, a narrow faced man with a black cap on his head.

“No, well, at least I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m due to start work with Lord Galbraith, but can’t figure out how to open the gate so we can get to the house.”

“You must be his new assistant,” said the man inside the car.

“That’s right. I’m Lorna Shadow.” I gave him a questioning look, expecting him to introduce himself.

“You need one of these to get the gates open.” He waved a plastic card in front of me.

“Well, since I haven’t officially started my job yet, I haven’t been given one of those magic cards. Any chance I can use yours?” The man’s smug face was beginning to annoy me.

He tipped the cap back on his head, revealing a set of bushy eyebrows and dark, narrow set eyes. “Only if you promise not to run away with it.”

I grabbed the card from his hand. “Why would I want to run away? This is where I now live.”

“It might not be for long,” said the man.

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning you’ve yet to meet the family,” he said. “They’re an acquired taste.”

“Lord Galbraith sounded okay on the phone,” I said.

“He’s not the problem. Wait until you meet his wife. She’s a real piece of work.”

I frowned before walking away. I’d make my own assumptions about the family after I’d met them and not be influenced by this hard faced misery.

After a quick search under some of the ivy covering the walls, I located a swipe box and inserted the card into it. A few seconds later, the gates inched open. I hurried back to the sedan, shoved the card back in the window, and jumped into my own car.

“Who was that?” Helen craned her neck to look back at the car following us as we continued our journey towards the manor house.

“Looks like the chauffeur to me,” I said. “Not the friendliest person I’ve ever met. Told me to watch out for the family.”

“I wonder why,” said Helen. “What do we have to be careful of?”

“Something about the wife not being friendly,” I said. “But he didn’t give off a trustworthy vibe. I won’t be paying much attention to what he has to say.”

“Oh, wow! Look at that,” said Helen.

I glanced in the direction she was pointing as we turned the corner of the gravel drive. The manor house sat in front of us, a large bubbling fountain in the center of the driveway. I could see there had been several extensions to the original manor house, two short squat wings on either side, followed by further additions of a grander scale. The building was a vast, sprawling sandstone colored affair, with double columns under a stone archway over the top of the entrance.

The sedan behind me beeped loudly, and I realised I’d stopped the car to stare. I pressed down on the gas pedal and parked outside the front of the house. The rude chauffer may have seen the building many times, but I always liked to take a good look at my new home.

“This isn’t too shabby.” Helen exited the back of the car, accompanied by Flipper. “I could get used to this. I wonder which wing is ours?”

“I don’t know where they’re putting us up yet. We might be in the stables. I didn’t get any details on our accommodation in the rush to get here. Hope it’s not too awful.” Sometimes these old houses were nothing more than crumbling ruins, damp, with dire heating. But, so far, this one looked in good condition, with clean windows, neat borders, and tidy brickwork.

“It had better not be in the stables,” muttered Helen.

“I think they have enough wings to accommodate us.” I glanced along the building. “From what I could gather on the phone, it’s only Lord and Lady Galbraith who live here and a few members of staff.”

“You’re wrong about that,” said the chauffeur, opening his car door.

“Who else lives here then?” I asked him, feeling resentful at him listening into our conversation.

“Well, I do for one,” he said smugly.

“And you are?” Helen’s blue eyes narrowed.

He tipped his cap to her. “Karl Jenkins at your service, ma’am. I’ve been chauffeur and right-hand man to Lord and Lady Galbraith for five years, coming on six, actually. I can tell you everything there is to know of value about this place and, probably, some of the things they don’t want you to know as well.”

“Jack of all trades by the sound of it.” Helen looked unimpressed.

Karl frowned at her. “You must be the new washerwoman.”

“Laundress and seamstress if you must know.” Helen's eyes narrowed even more.

“Same thing,” said Karl with a shrug. “Don’t leave your car out front. Staff vehicles have to be around the back, out of the way, so we don’t bring the tone down. And don’t make a habit of going through the front entrance either. We go in around the side or through the back door where the staff kitchen is.”

“Yes m’lord,” spat out Helen as Karl sauntered away.

“Let’s hope the rest of the staff are nicer than him,” I said. “Come on, let’s investigate our new home.” I hooked my arm through Helen’s elbow, and we walked to the front door, Flipper by my side. I rapped on the varnished red wooden door with its brass knocker in the shape of a fist, before straightening my knee length black skirt and smoothing my bob. Needed to make a good first impression with our new employer.

A few seconds later, I heard footsteps approach the door, and it was pulled open by a smartly dressed older man with a shock of greying hair, a blue and white spotted cravat tucked into the top of an open necked white shirt.

“Miss Shadow and Miss Holliday, I presume,” he said. “I’m Lord Galbraith.”

“That’s right,” I said.

“Or are you married?” Confusion crossed his lightly wrinkled face. “I believe that’s allowed, isn’t it? I didn’t think to ask if you shared a surname.”

I disentangled my arm from Helen’s elbow and shook Lord Galbraith’s outstretched hand. “We aren’t married or even a couple. Helen and I work together; we’re business partners.”

“Oh, well, jolly good.” He shook my hand hard and then Helen’s. “Be sure you are welcome here, regardless of your relationship. I thought it was extremely modern of me to employ you, actually. Two young ladies together, what fun,” he chuckled to himself. “But I get ahead of myself. I am Lord Sylvester Galbraith the Fifth. Welcome to your new home.” He stood to one side and gestured for us to enter.

I glanced at Helen and grinned at her. Good old Sylvester had made the classic mistake of thinking Helen and I were a couple. It wasn’t uncommon for husbands and wives to take on these kinds of jobs together, and it was often assumed when I mentioned my partner to potential employers that Helen and I were an item. But I didn’t sense any malice in Lord Galbraith’s gaff, just a rather out of date understanding of how the world worked these days.

“You have a lovely home, Lord Galbraith.” Helen followed me through the main door.

“Thank you, my dear,” said Lord Galbraith. “It has been in the family for many years. My great-grandfather bought it from a Lord who was going bankrupt and needed to liquidate his assets. According to the records, the place was falling down. My great-grandfather spent years having it renovated. Let me give you the penny tour, and you can see the old place in all its glory.”

“That would be nice.” A shiver of pleasure ran down my spine. I loved nothing more than poking about in an old house and exploring the nooks and crannies that had been created over the years by former owners, intent on putting their unique stamp on their home.

“Your companion dog is house-trained I presume.” Lord Galbraith looked down at Flipper, who stood patiently by my side.

“Yes, this is Flipper. He is well-behaved.”

“I like dogs, and this one looks like a fine fellow. I'm sure he won't cause any trouble.” Lord Galbraith led us through a dark wood paneled hallway, most of the walls covered in oil paintings of woodland, the scent of lemon oil in the air. “We travel a lot, so it’s not easy to keep a dog anymore. It will be nice to have an animal in the house again.” He gave Flipper’s head a brief pat.

We walked into what looked like a front parlor, with a large stone fireplace as the main feature, a muted beige carpet, antique cream colored walls, and two enormous floral patterned sofas. There were three display cabinets showing various china and crystal trinkets.

“My wife likes to read in this room. You will often find her in here in front of the fire when it gets cold.” Lord Galbraith shook his head. “Always has her nose in a book. Don’t understand it myself, when we have so much glorious countryside right on our doorstep.”

He showed us into another parlor, the main dining room, with a table that could seat twenty, a games room, the kitchen and laundry, and then upstairs to the bedrooms and bathrooms.

“As you can see, we have a lot of house to care for and often entertain guests,” said Lord Galbraith. “It can get lively around here at times.”

“Is it just you and Lady Galbraith in residence?” I asked as we reached the top of the final flight of stairs, the stairwell decked out in muted reds and cream colors.

“My cousin lives with us most of the time,” said Lord Galbraith. “Douglas can usually be found in the games room when he’s awake. He is something of a night owl, so you may not see much of him. My old friend from Eton, Cecil, often stays with us as well. He is the local doctor for the village. Cecil lost his sister recently. Terrible business, they were close. I feel for the old boy, so let him stay in one of the guest rooms when he’s feeling down. I think it helps him not to be alone. Don’t like to think of him dwelling on his loss.”

“And what about other staff members?” asked Helen. “We have already met your chauffeur.”

“Yes, there’s Karl; he’s been with us for years. We also employ a cleaner, Gladys, and we have the gardener, Zach, who has been with us for almost a year. He's a terribly handy chap. Can turn his hand to anything if you ask him.”

“Do you employ a cook?” A worried look crossed Helen’s face. She liked her meals large and often. It was one of the pleasures of living in a big house like this. They knew how to feed you.

“No cook. We have our food prepared off site and brought to the house,” said Lord Galbraith. “My wife thinks it’s easier than bothering with all that noise and fuss in the kitchen, especially after our recent mess. We have someone on retainer we use for big events. But there is plenty of food in the kitchen, and the cupboards are well-stocked. You won’t need to worry about going hungry.”

I exchanged a glance with Helen. What mess could he be referring to? The cook must have done something terrible to the family if it put them off having another.

Lord Galbraith stopped outside a closed door. “This will be your room.” He pushed open the door, and we walked through. The room was vast with high ceilings, ornate cornicing, and large windows looking out over the front gardens of the house. An empty fireplace adorned one wall, sandwiched between two dark wood wardrobes. An enormous four poster bed took up the majority of the room.

“This is lovely.” Helen did a quick circuit of the bedroom.

“I would be happy to provide you with separate living quarters since you aren’t an actual couple.” Lord Galbraith gave me a wink. “We have ample spare rooms if you do not need to share a bed.”

“That would be appreciated,” I said. “Helen does snore rather loudly.”

She shot me a glare. “I do not. A lady never snores.”

Lord Galbraith chuckled. “You may have the room next door to this one, Miss Holliday. And you may both be as noisy as you wish. Karl has his own room close to the garage, and the gardener has a detached annex away from the main house. Gladys lives off site, so you have this entire floor to yourselves. The family sleeps on the floor below. That area is not to be accessed by staff, unless we request your presence in one of our rooms.”

“Thank you; that’s generous of you,” I said. “We don’t usually make much noise. We won’t be disturbing you.”

“Now you have seen the house, I will leave you to settle in,” said Lord Galbraith. “If you would do me the great honor of dining with us tonight, I would appreciate it. Normally, staff do not dine at the main table, but since it is your first day here, I thought it would be nice for us to get better acquainted. I can also outline your work duties in more detail. We dine at seven in the main hall.”

“We will look forward to that,” I said to Lord Galbraith.

“Excellent. Take your time unpacking, I don't expect you to start work straight away. Plenty of time for that tomorrow.” Lord Galbraith backed out of the room and shut the door.

“Dinner at the posh table,” said Helen with a smile. “We are honored.”

“But just remember, it’s for one night only,” I said. “The rest of the time, we have to eat cold scraps in the kitchen on our own.”

“Yes, what’s that all about, not having their own cook?” said Helen. “Who is going to provide me with all the sweet treats I need to keep me going during the day while I’m slaving over the laundry?”

“We’ll have to check out the kitchen, make sure there is actually food in there,” I said. “You know what these posh lots can be like; they think cheese, crackers, and port is a decent meal.”

Helen grimaced. “My figure will not survive on such meagre rations. Come on, let’s explore, and the first stop will be the kitchen cupboards.”

Chapter 3

We went back downstairs to the car, unloaded our bags, and I parked the car out of the eye line of the household, so as not to bring down the neighborhood.

Once our bags were unpacked and both rooms explored, we checked out the rest of the bedrooms on our floor, all empty and unused as Lord Galbraith had informed us. And although they were empty, they were all clean and in good repair.

The rooms below us were out of bounds, family members only, so we skipped those and headed to the ground floor.

“Here’s the library,” said Helen. “Lord Galbraith didn’t show us this room when he gave as his tour.” She pushed open a dark wooden door and peered around it.

As you would expect of a library, the walls were stacked full of books. A large mahogany writing desk sat in front of the bay window. Flipper walked around the room a few times, snuffling the ground, no doubt looking for any discarded bits of food that had been missed.

“Perhaps we could make this our room if nobody else uses it,” I said. We always liked to pick a room we could have as our own, where we wouldn’t disturb family members.

“Maybe Lady Galbraith won’t let us,” said Helen. “If she’s a big reader, this could be one of her favorite rooms, too.”

I paused from my inspection of the books, a cold shudder running down my spine. Flipper looked over at me and whined before hurrying to my side and sitting at my feet, his blue gaze focused on me.

“Something wrong?” asked Helen. “You’ve gone a little pale.”

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, getting a faint hint of rosewater on the air currents. Maybe it was nothing. Flipper whined again and pawed at the ground.

“Is Flipper sensing something?” Helen knew all about Flipper’s ability to detect ghosts.

“He’s not the only one.” I opened my eyes, the cold shudder taking over my whole body. I forced myself to relax. “I don’t think we’re alone.”

“These old houses do tend to hang onto their spirits.” Helen’s gaze went around the room. “Do we have a ghost as a resident?”

“It feels like it to me,” I said. “But all I’m getting are the chills, nothing more.”

“Good chills or bad chills?”

“Just chills,” I said. “Although it feels as if the warmth has been leached out of my bones.”

“Do you sense any trouble from the ghost?”

“No. Whoever it is, they don’t feel strong. It might be a residual energy of someone who died here.” The ghosts I met had varying degrees of abilities and energy. If a ghost had been living on their own with no humans around them and no electrical objects to feed from, they could literally be wisps of smoke in the air. I could pass them by and barely detect them, other than perhaps the occasional shiver or feeling I was being watched. Others were more powerful, particularly those who lived among humans. The ghosts fed from their energy and grew in strength, gaining the ability to move objects, change the temperature of a room, and even make noises.

The only thing I’d never been able to do was get a ghost to talk to me. It could be frustrating; we had to communicate through sounds, noise, and sometimes comical mimes and dances. The ghosts seemed to hear me just fine, so I never had to do a silly dance or mime to communicate with them.

Flipper whined once more and let out a small bark as he leaned his weight against my leg.

“It’s okay, boy. I don’t think this one means us any harm.” The ghosts I met usually wanted something, which was the reason they were still around. Sometimes it was simply to have a message passed to a loved one or complete some unfinished business. I’d even met a few ghosts who’d asked me to let people know where their last will and testament was. They'd hidden it so well, their family members hadn't been able to find it.

“Let’s keep exploring the house,” said Helen. “You never know, the ghost might decide to show itself to us at some point.”

“We could always just avoid this room. Maybe the ghost is trapped in here and can’t get out. I’d rather not have another job where I’m communicating with thin air.” And that was the problem. Flipper and I were the only ones who could detect ghosts. And in previous jobs, I’d been discovered talking to the wall by employers. I was almost dismissed from one role because they thought I’d lost my mind. It’s never easy telling people you can communicate with the dead.

“The poor ghost,” said Helen. “Maybe it’s after some company. Imagine what it must be like, nobody else can see you, you feel like you’re all alone, and then suddenly you appear. To the ghosts, you must seem like a guardian angel.”

“I just want to be a personal assistant, not a guardian angel,” I said. “Won’t that do for this job?”

Helen laughed and took hold of my arm. “No more speaking to the dead, for now. But I know you won't be able to resist for long. Let’s see what else this house has to offer.”

Two hours later, we had explored every room on the ground floor and found no other people in residence, living or dead. Lord Galbraith had vanished, and his wife was nowhere to be seen. Gladys the cleaner had obviously gone home for the day, and Karl was hiding somewhere. There was also no sign of Lord Galbraith’s cousin or his doctor friend.

“Such an enormous house, it almost seems a waste not to have it full of people,” said Helen as we stopped by the back door and peered at the well-manicured lawn, tidy kitchen garden and opulent blooming rose bushes.

“It’s a status thing,” I said. “To have all this space and not use it. It’s the same with lawns. All that grass serves no purpose.”

“What do you mean?” asked Helen.

“That’s why lawns were invented,” I said. “I read about it somewhere. It’s supposed to show how wealthy you are that you can buy a piece of land and then do nothing with it other than grow grass. It shows you have money to spare.”

“You’d be right about that,” said a deep male voice from somewhere in the garden.

“Is it a talking bush?” whispered Helen with a giggle.

“I may be an excellent gardener, but even I can’t make the trees talk to me.” From behind a high box hedge emerged a tall, dark-haired man, wearing a pair of mud-stained combat trousers and a green linen shirt. “And you’re right about the lawns. The aristocracy wanted to display their wealth in the most obvious of ways. And what better than to buy a piece of land and not build on it? Simply plant pretty flowers, instead. One good thing about the popularity of lawns; it means I’ll never be out of a job.”

“You must be Zach.” I extended my hand to him. “I’m Lorna Shadow, Lord Galbraith’s new personal assistant.”

He shook my hand, his grip warm and firm, the palm a little calloused. “Did the mud give away my occupation?” Zach glanced down at his crumpled trousers.

I smiled at him and nodded. “And this is Helen, the house’s new laundress and seamstress.”

Helen also shook Zach’s hand and she gave a little curtesy.

“And who is this fine fellow?” Zach looked down at Flipper.

“This is my companion dog, Flipper,” I said. “He’s friendly if you want to pet him.”

Zach crouched down and did just that, ruffling behind Flipper’s ears with both hands. “What sort of breed is he?”

“A mix of all sorts,” I said.

Zach stood up. “He looks like a wolf with those blue eyes.”

“He’s my best friend.” I grinned down at Flipper.

Helen coughed pointedly into her hand.

“I meant to say, my best nonhuman friend,” I said.

“Welcome to Galbraith Manor.” Zach smiled, the expression lighting up his face. “It’s a big old jumble of a place, but I like it here. Sylvester gives me the run of the garden, with instructions as to what he wants done, and leaves me to get on with things. It’s a dream job, really.”

“It looks like you do a good job with the gardens,” said Helen. “We were just admiring your roses.”

“One of Lady G’s obsessions,” said Zach. “They are hard work and a pain if I’m honest. You get two flowerings a year, and the rest of the time, you’re dealing with thorns that shred your skin and dead wood that needs pruning. And as for digging out a dying rose bush, the roots go down for metres, sometimes. Never a fun job. But our Lady loves her roses, so I have to oblige with the rose garden.” He pointed to one of the house windows. “She can look out at the roses from her bedroom, so I like to keep things nice.”

I turned and peered at the window, but could see no sign of Lady Galbraith. “Is she in residence?”

“Yes, she rarely leaves the house these days,” said Zach. “Lord Galbraith goes overseas sometimes, but they are an isolated bunch here. Have you met the cousin yet?”

“No, we’ve just been looking around, but didn’t see a soul,” I said.

“Douglas is a little on the eccentric side,” said Zach. “I blame too many first cousins marrying each other. I’m sure he’s got a screw loose. Always going on about some new business he wants to run or a new invention to invest in.”

“You’re the first member of staff we’ve met,” said Helen. “Well, if you discount the horrible, mean-faced chauffeur.”

Zach frowned. “Karl Jenkins. That’s an accurate description of him. And a word to the wise. Keep out of his way. He’s been here a long time and considers the place his domain. If he thinks you are getting in his way, he won’t hesitate in trying to get you fired. It’s why we don’t have a cook in the house. He took a liking to the last one, and she rebuffed him. So he told tales to Lord Galbraith about the cleanliness of the kitchen, and the poor woman was sacked. Ever since then, we’ve been without a cook.”

“And what about you?” I asked. “Can you be trusted not to tell Lord Galbraith tales about us?”

“That’s for you to find out.” Zach grinned, a dimple popping out on one cheek. “But I’m not here to cause any trouble. This is a good place to work, and I love the gardens. So long as you don’t go trampling over any of my prized bedding plants, we’ll get along fine.”

“I can avoid treading on your plants,” I said to him. Zach seemed like a nice guy, and I got a fluttery feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I met his blue-eyed gaze.

“Then we will be the best of friends,” he said. “Obviously discounting the fact you already have a best friend with four legs and one with two.” Zach nodded at Helen and Flipper.

“Is it okay if we have a look around the gardens?” I asked.

“Be my guest,” said Zach. “Nowhere is out of bounds. There’s a lake about a mile from here and some fruit trees, so feel free to take any fruit you fancy. I have a bonfire and recycling area over by the two large sheds, so that can get a bit smoky at times. But you’re welcome to have a look around wherever you want.”

“Thanks, we’ll do that. Nice to meet you, Zach.” Helen turned towards me, a knowing smile on her face.

“And you,” said Zach. “Perhaps I’ll catch up with you later over dinner in the kitchen.”

“Not tonight,” I said. “We are dining with the family.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Zach grimaced. “They are not always the jolliest of affairs. If you fancy some company later and some food not served in tiny portions, you can try the kitchen.” He gave us a wave before turning and walking away.

“He seems nice,” said Helen, a singsong lilt to her voice.

“Yes, he does.” I narrowed my eyes at Helen. “And you can wipe that silly smile off your face.”

“My smile is never silly.” Helen’s grin only broadened. “But I was thinking how much he looks like your type of guy. You know, all that messy dark hair and blue eyes sparkling at you. I bet he’s got good muscles as well. He must have, with all the gardening he does.”

“Perhaps you can check that out for yourself,” I said. “I’m sure he won’t think it odd some woman asking him to take his clothes off so she can leer at his six-pack.”

“Do you think he has a six-pack?” Helen’s eyes widened, and she gave an exaggerated lick of her lips.

“I have no idea,” I laughed.

“You know he’s not my type,” said Helen. “But no denying he seems like a decent guy, and I think he’d be perfect for you.”

Helen had a thing for posh guys, the posher the better. And she liked their hair blond and their accents cut glass. I never saw the appeal. But it was a good thing; it meant we never clashed over potential boyfriends. I preferred my men a little rougher around the edges. And Helen was right; Zach was just my kind of guy looks-wise.

“The last thing I need is to get involved with the gardener.” I caught hold of Helen’s arm and propelled her away from the house into the main grounds. “It has too much of a Lady Chatterley’s Lover vibe to it.”

“But you’re no lady,” said Helen. “Therefore there is nothing indecent about it.”

I whacked her arm, but then pulled up short and stopped walking.

“I was only joking.” Helen looked back at me, where I stood rooted to the spot. “You can be the perfect lady when you want to be.”

“That’s not it.” I swallowed the nervous feeling creeping up my throat. Standing beneath a broad oak tree in the garden was a ghost.

Chapter 4

Flipper dashed towards the tree and circled the ghost several times before running back to me and then repeating the exercise, his agitation growing with each circuit.

“I know, I see her too,” I said to him, grabbing hold of his collar and stroking down his sides several times to keep him calm. The action also helped calm my own nerves.

The ghost was fully formed, the image of a middle-aged woman, dressed in a tweed suit, white blouse, and flat black shoes. Her hair was pulled back from her round face in a severe bun.

“What are you seeing?” asked Helen. “It’s the library ghost, isn’t it?”

“It could be, and it looks like she isn’t contained in the library after all. It’s a woman,” I said. “Sensible looking, maybe in her early fifties.”

The ghost’s image flickered, and a scowl crossed her face.

“Maybe younger than that,” I said rapidly. I didn’t want to annoy the ghost on our first proper meeting; they could be malicious if you didn’t treat them well.

“I wonder why she's here,” said Helen. “Unfinished business with the family, perhaps?”

I studied the ghost for a few seconds. “There is some family resemblance to Lord Galbraith. They have the same cheekbones and similar colored eyes. Maybe they were related.”

I took several hasty steps backwards as the ghost sped towards me. I didn't want her touching me. When a ghost passes through me, it leaves a slimy cold sensation in my bones for the rest of the day.

Flipper barked several times and pawed the ground, then ran around the ghost as if trying to keep her away from me.

“I don’t think she means me any harm, Flipper,” I said. “But she does seem agitated about something.”

“She reacted when you mentioned Lord Galbraith,” said Helen.

The ghost peered at Helen and then nodded.

“Is he your brother?” I asked the ghost.

She nodded again, wrapped her fingers around her throat and began strangling herself.

“What's she doing?” asked Helen.

“It looks like she’s choking the life out of herself,” I said. “At least she’s acting like she is.”

“Sounds like she doesn’t think much of her brother,” said Helen. “Lord Galbraith seems like a sweet man to me. I can't imagine him being mean to his sister.”

The ghost stopped choking herself and stalked over to Helen before attempting to bash her repeatedly about the head with her hands.

“I think you’re onto something.” The ghost couldn’t do Helen harm. I could sense her power and guessed that, at the most, she might be able to make the room chilly and knock over a glass. There were ghosts strong enough to hurt people, but fortunately, they were unusual.

“She’s doing something to me, isn't she?” Helen’s nose wrinkled. “I’m getting chills all over my body. Whatever she's doing, tell her to stop. I’m feeling weird.”

The ghost paused in her assault on Helen, glared at her and then began choking herself again.

Helen shook out her arms. “What's she playing at?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “But it looks like she’s showing me someone strangled her, or that she didn’t die of natural causes.”

“You think our ghost was murdered?” Helen's gaze shot around the garden.

“It’s possible,” I said. “It isn't the first time we’ve happened upon a person who met an unfortunate end.”

“Then we should help her,” said Helen. “Maybe she needs her killer brought to justice. That’s why she won’t leave.”

“We can’t help her,” I said. “Remember that job two years ago, when a ghost convinced us he had been killed. We lost a well-paid job because he kept disturbing things. And the whole time, he was lying to us.”

“He was being spiteful,” said Helen. “He died of a heart attack.”

“He damaged some of the owner’s clothing, put an indelible stain on a piece of silk, and set fire to all the letters I’d composed. We had to take the blame for it all.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” said Helen with a sigh. “And that villa in Italy was so beautiful. I can’t believe we got chucked out. None of it was our fault.”

“Well, in a way, it was,” I said. “If we hadn’t agreed to help that lying ghost in the first place, we wouldn’t have gotten in such a mess, and we wouldn’t have lost a lovely job.”

“And the Italian men are so fine to look at,” said Helen, a wistful look on her face.

The ghost began whacking Helen around the head again with her wispy arms, and Helen shrieked and jumped out of the way.

“Stop doing that,” I ordered the ghost, marching towards them. “I am sorry for whatever may have happened to you, but we can’t help.”

The ghost turned her narrowed gaze towards me, her hands poised as if to continue hitting Helen.

“You just heard the story about our Italian ghost encounter. We will get in trouble if we interfere here,” I said. “You need to move on. You’re no longer alive; you cannot stay here.” I wasn’t sure where ghosts went when they passed over. There may be a heaven they drifted off to, or they may simply join the never ending loop of electrical impulses that spun around us all. I always figured that was why I could see ghosts. When I’d almost died, my brain seemed to have rewired itself differently, and I could now see things other people couldn’t. It was like I had access to something hidden.

The ghost lunged at me. Flipper jumped at her and snapped at thin air in an attempt to stop her. His reaction made her pause, and she looked down at Flipper in surprise.

“Yes, he sees you too. And he doesn’t want you trying to hurt anybody.” I encouraged Flipper back to my side.

The ghost stared at Flipper, her gaze softening.

“Looks like our ghost has a soft spot for animals,” I said.

“Then she can't be all bad,” said Helen. “Despite what she did to me. Ask her some questions, see if we can help her out.”

“If she gets us fired I'm leaving you behind on the next job.”

“No you won't,” said Helen. “It wouldn't be as much fun without me.”

I sighed and then smiled. Helen knew me too well. I focused my attention on the ghost. “Do you have a connection to this house?”

The ghost nodded vigorously and spun her hands in a circle, encouraging me to continue.

“Fine, so you have a connection to this house,” I said. “But if you have unfinished business here, we're not getting involved with that.”

“What if we’re discreet?” asked Helen, always so eager to help any ghosts I had the misfortune to stumble across. “We could ask a few questions about other residents who used to live here. Perhaps she died in the house and wants to say a few final goodbyes before she crosses over.”

The ghost frowned at Helen and folded her arms over her matronly bosom.

“She doesn’t seem impressed with that idea.” I focused my attention back on the ghost. “So you aren’t here to say goodbye. Was your attempt at strangling yourself a clue you didn’t die peacefully?”

The ghost nodded and pointed towards the house.

“You died inside the house?” I asked her.

The ghost shook her head and began strangling herself again.

“Stop with the choking, you're making me feel bad.” I looked over at Helen. “If my understanding of ghost interpretive mime is correct, she believes she was killed around here, and the murderer has a connection to this house.”

“We have to help her if she was murdered,” said Helen. “What’s to say the killer isn’t still on the loose?”

“That’s not for us to investigate,” I said. “Most likely, she’s confused. She probably died naturally in her sleep and has been laid to rest somewhere peacefully for years. Maybe me turning up has stirred up her energies. There are no nasty vibes inside the house. I don’t think anyone was killed in there.”

“What about that strange energy you felt in the library? Could that have something to do with this ghost?” asked Helen. “Maybe she died in the library.”

“It’s a possibility,” I said, reluctant to keep speculating on this ghost's death, it would only encourage her.

A swirl of leaves was swept from the ground and spun around my head by the ghost.

“You can cut that out,” I said to her. “I can see what you’re doing, so that doesn’t scare me.”

“It is kind of creepy to look at, though,” said Helen. “And if anyone can see us from the house, it will look downright weird, you standing in a mini tornado of leaves.”

I batted aside a handful of leaves. “We’d better get back to the house and get ready for dinner with the family. Don’t want to be late on our first night.”

“But what about this ghost?” asked Helen.

The ghost stood directly in front of me, scowling so deeply she looked like one of the gargoyles I’d spotted on the house roof.

“Listen, whatever your name is, I am sorry you died. And I’m sorry you think your death was an unhappy one. But we have a job to do, and it’s not to solve your death. If we lose our positions here, we won’t be able to make the payments on our own home. We need this to work out, and it won’t do so if you’re hanging around causing problems.”

The ghost grabbed another handful of leaves and flung them in my face.

I shrugged and plucked the leaves out of my hair. “That behavior is hardly endearing you to me. Go bother somebody else, we're leaving.” I grabbed hold of Helen’s arm and hurried away towards the house, Flipper running along beside me.

“Do you think that was such a good idea?” asked Helen quietly. “Angering the house ghost on your first day.”

“She isn’t powerful. The worst she’ll be able to do is turn the lights on and off in the bedroom all night. I’ve had that happen before; that’s why I always use a sleep mask over my eyes.”

“But what if she was murdered?” persisted Helen. “Don’t you think we have a duty to help her?”

“Help her how?” I asked. “We don’t know the first thing about investigating a murder. We don’t even know when it happened, if it happened at all. She could have died a hundred years ago. Evidence will be sorely lacking if that’s the case.”

“We don’t need to know the techniques,” said Helen. “We just need to find out who she is and how she died.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” I said. “First, we need to get through a fancy dinner with the family.”

Chapter 5

The ornate grandfather clock in the hallway chimed seven o’clock with lusty vigor as I hurried down the stairs with Helen and Flipper.

I’d showered and changed when I’d gotten back to the house, and had deliberately not dwelled on the fact I’d met a grumpy middle-aged ghost in the garden who’d tried to convince me of her untimely demise.

Ghosts could be found anywhere there were large concentrations of energy. The most popular places were hospitals. No surprise really, given the number of deaths that happened in a hospital. More surprisingly, I’d discovered ghosts in nightclubs and bars. It seemed all that happy, slightly drunk, hedonistic energy was a real draw for ghosts.

The door to one of the parlors opened, and Lord Galbraith walked through. He was dressed for dinner in a dark grey linen suit, with a bright red cravat and matching pocket handkerchief. He smiled when he noticed me, Helen and Flipper descending the stairs.

“Good evening, ladies and gent.” He inclined his head towards Flipper. “We have been having drinks in the parlor. I should have invited you along, too. But I thought you would like some time to explore on your own and settle in prior to dinner.”

“Thank you, Lord Galbraith,” I said. “I think we are all settled in now.”

“That is excellent news.” Lord Galbraith turned and extended his arm. “Allow me to introduce you to my wife, Lady Penelope Galbraith.”

A tall, stick insect thin woman emerged from the parlor, swathed in a burgundy silk dress, a long black scarf looped around her neck, pearls on her wrist, and a large diamond ring on her wedding ring finger.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Galbraith.” I always had the urge to curtsy before the lady of the household. Sometimes, I’d even been expected to, but it was rarer these days to curtsy, unless you were in the presence of royalty. And that had happened.

The look Lady Galbraith gave me made it clear what she thought of the plain black knee length dress I had put on for dinner. “Sylvester tells me you are to be his new personal assistant.”

“That’s correct,” I said to her. “And I’d be happy to assist you with any administrative matters you may have as well.”

Lady Galbraith gave a short nod, her gaze shifting to Helen. “And you must be my seamstress.”

“At your disposal.” Helen dipped her head.

“I have five dresses requiring alteration,” said Lady Galbraith. “I will expect you in my room at six tomorrow morning to begin altering the hems.”

Helen did an excellent job of hiding her grimace. Early mornings were not her thing. “I will be happy to help.”

Two men crashed through the door behind Lord and Lady Galbraith, both clasping half full glasses of wine.

“This is my cousin, Douglas Galbraith.” Lord Galbraith gestured to a tall man in a crumpled black suit jacket and trousers, several buttons of his pink shirt undone, revealing tufts of dark chest hair.

“Pleased to meet you,” Helen and I said together.

“The new help,” said Douglas, a feral smile crossing his face as his gaze ran over our figures. “Prettier than the last lot.”

“Douglas, behave yourself,” said Lady Galbraith, shards of ice lacing her words.

“I have some paperwork of my own that requires filing.” Douglas leaned forward and tugged a strand of my dark hair, his muddy brown gaze intent upon me.

“She will be too busy with our requirements to deal with your paperwork,” said Lady Galbraith.

“I’m sure she will be able to squeeze me in,” said Douglas.

Lady Galbraith shot me a dark look. “Make sure you don’t, my dear.”

Lord Galbraith chuckled and slapped Douglas on the back. “He’s only having some fun. Now, allow me to introduce you to my old friend, Doctor Cecil Masters.”

Cecil wiped his chubby right hand on the side of his black slacks and stuck it out to be shaken. “A pleasure to meet you, ladies.” He was short and rotund, with round glasses perched on a small snub nose, and piggy eyes that blinked too rapidly as if the light from the chandelier overhead was too bright.

We both shook hands with Cecil, and I resisted the urge to grimace as I felt how clammy his hand was.

“Shall we get settled in the dining hall?” asked Lord Galbraith. “We have quite a spread tonight in honor of our new staff members.” He led the way along the wood paneled hall and through the door to the dining hall.

“No dogs allowed.” Lady Galbraith’s gaze went to Flipper, who had remained by my side during the introductions.

“He is very well-behaved,” I said. “He won’t beg food from anybody’s plate. You won’t even know he is in there.”

“Yes, I will. It is out of the question,” said Lady Galbraith. “When I heard you had a dog with you, I insisted Sylvester find somebody else to do your job. When he explained your... disability to me, I took pity on you. But that only goes so far. No animals in the dining hall.” She turned on her black kitten heels and stalked away.

“Stay calm,” murmured Helen.

I bit the inside of my mouth. “I'm trying, but I'm not disabled. I don't need her pity, and I'd much rather eat with Flipper than her. He probably has better table manners. I'd like to tell her where to stick her stupid rules.”

“This isn't worth losing your job over,” whispered Helen. “And I get the impression Lady Galbraith is quick to take offence. Flipper won't mind staying out here for a little while.”

I knew Helen was right. “Go ahead, I'll find somewhere for him to sit.” Taking a deep breath, I looked down at Flipper. Seeing his bright blue eyes gazing up at me instantly made me feel better. “Sorry, boy. You’ll have to stay out here. But I promise you, I’ll sneak some food into a napkin, and you can have it later.” I scratched behind his ears a few times before moving him to the corner in the hallway and settling him down.

By the time I’d gotten into the dining hall, people had already piled their plates with food and were sitting at the table. I grabbed a plate from the large sideboard, took a selection of vegetables and pasta from the array of pungent smelling dishes, and hurried to join them.

Helen sat to the left of Lord Galbraith. The seat opposite her was empty, so I sat there.

“Well, this is a lovely party.” Lord Galbraith smiled at each guest in turn. “I do enjoy having extra people around the table. Sometimes it seems too large, especially when it is only Penelope and me dining alone.” He looked towards the other end of the table, where Lady Galbraith sat on her own, aloof and disengaged from the rest of us as she picked over a few salad leaves on her otherwise empty plate. I could see now why she was so thin if she survived on lettuce leaves and bad vibes.

“Yes, it is jolly nice to have such pretty guests at the table.” Cecil blinked a few times before tucking into the fish on his plate. “Where have you ladies come from?”

“A little village outside of Oxfordshire,” I said. “But I travel around a lot, and Helen too. We’ve worked all over Europe.”

“Sounds a lot like how I spend my time.” Douglas took a large glug of wine. “You’ll often find me at some villa in France or by the pool enjoying the Italian sunshine. Do you ever get to Italy?” His gaze rested to me.

“I’ve been there a few times,” I said. “It’s a beautiful country.”

“They do make excellent wine.” Douglas emptied his wine glass and filled it again.

“And are you lovely ladies both spoken for?” Cecil dropped a piece of potato into his lap and scooped it up with his stubby fingers.

I gritted my teeth and smiled. “We are very much married to work. And I have my dog, Flipper. He takes up a lot of my time.”

“Why on earth would you call an animal Flipper?” asked Douglas. “Unless it’s a dolphin.”

“He does this trick,” said Helen. “When he really wants a piece of food, he sits back on his hind legs and claps his front paws together like a seal. Lorna didn’t even need to train him to do it. When she found him, he did it the very first day he was in the flat. So, that was his name from then on.”

“And because of his coloring,” I said. “In a certain light, his fur looks blue, just like a dolphin.”

“Funniest name I’ve ever heard for a dog,” said Douglas. “I’ve got a few hunting dogs out back. I don’t bother with names for them. They’ve got numbers I had tattooed in their ears. Makes it easier to identify them. Plus, if any of them get injured or old, it’s easier to send them off to the old meat factory. You don’t get attached to a number.”

I swallowed the sick feeling creeping up my throat. Anyone who could do something so barbaric to an animal would never be a friend of mine.

Lord Galbraith cleared his throat. “Now, I wanted to run through your basic duties, Miss Shadow. You will attend to my administrative requirements. That will be your main duty. I will require you on a daily basis to take down dictation, type letters, and have them mailed out. There will also be my emails to check and reply to. Most of those are simply junk messages. I prefer to do the majority of my business by letter. I find a letter is much more personal.”

Douglas pulled out a smart phone from his jacket pocket and dumped it on the table. “You need to get with the times. Get one of these, and your life will change forever.”

Ignoring Douglas, I smiled warmly at Lord Galbraith. “I’m happy to deal with all of your correspondence, letters, and emails. What else will you need me to do?”

“My filing system requires some serious rejuvenation,” said Lord Galbraith. “I had two girls here over the last five years, and they both had their own style of filing. One did first name and subject, the other did surname and geographical area. Neither worked. So the system is a mess. I will need you to set up something clear and easy for me to use when you are not here.”

“I can do that,” I said.

“And I hear there are some wonderful tools that can be used to remind one of significant anniversaries or important dates, such as birthdays. Do you know of such a thing?”

“Of course,” I said. “I can set you up an event schedule, so you get alerts of upcoming events and key anniversaries.”

“That would be ideal,” said Lord Galbraith, lowering his voice and leaning towards me. “I recently had my wrists slapped by my dear wife for forgetting our wedding anniversary. She didn't speak to me for three weeks. Don’t want to go through the silent treatment again.”

Looking at the way Lady Galbraith sat apart from the group, it didn’t surprise me at all that she used the silent treatment as her weapon of choice. The air felt positively chilly every time I looked at her.

“I can get that set up for you,” I said. “You will never miss another birthday or anniversary again.”

Lord Galbraith nodded. “And as for your duties, Miss Holliday, I’m afraid I don’t know anything about laundry work or sewing. But you will be working with my dear wife. I know she has a number of dresses she is eager to have taken in. She is always losing weight. I tell her to eat, but food doesn’t seem to interest her. Her only passion in life are those wretched books.”

“Anything you need altering or adjusting,” said Helen, “you just let me know. I can tailor a suit if you need one and am always here if you require a button sewing on or a zipper that needs to be changed.”

“I’ve got a faulty zipper on this pair of trousers,” said Douglas. “Can you take a look at it later tonight?”

Helen opened her mouth to speak, but I shook my head at her sharply. We’d only have to tolerate Douglas’s comments through tonight’s dinner and then we could avoid him. The guy was a rude drunk.

“Now, Douglas,” said Lord Galbraith quietly. “These ladies do not need to be bothered by you. They are here to do my work.”

“But they are both single, and neither of them are bad looking,” said Douglas. “I thought they’d be grateful for some attention. A couple of single girls, scraping by, doing sewing and typing. Must be a dreadfully dull life. I’d be happy to show either of you some excitement while you’re here. Or both of you if you’d be open to that.”

Spotting a large oil painting of a grand looking man in a red cloak, I decided to change the subject. “Is that a family member?” I indicated to the painting.

“Yes, my great-grandfather.” Lord Galbraith looked at the painting. “I mentioned him to you when you first arrived. He purchased this manor house and spent many years renovating it. It is all thanks to his hard work and careful investments that we are here today. If it weren’t for him, the entire building would most likely have been bulldozed many years ago or turned into some sort of hippy squat.”

“And the lady in the picture next to him?” I asked. “Is that his wife?” A narrow faced woman with upright posture and dark hair stared down at us.

“Well spotted,” said Lord Galbraith. “Yes, she is the mother of five children. Two of them survived to adulthood. One of them was my grandfather. He carried on the family tradition at Galbraith Manor, as did my father.” Lord Galbraith gestured to another painting on the wall, showing a man who looked so startlingly like Lord Galbraith I did a double take.

Lord Galbraith noticed my expression and laughed. “Yes, we could pass as twins, rather than father and son.”

“And what about the lady on the opposite wall?” asked Helen. “Is she a family member?”

I pivoted in my seat to see the painting Helen referred to. My knife fell out of my hand as I stared at the portrait. It was our ghost.

Chapter 6

“Is everything alright my dear?” Lord Galbraith scooped up my knife and placed it on the table.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” I said swiftly. “Who’s that lady in the painting?”

“Ah, my poor dear sister, Beatrice. Sadly, she is no longer with us.” Lord Galbraith lowered his gaze to his empty plate and set his knife and fork side-by-side in a neat silver pair.

I looked over at Helen and raised my eyebrows. “Did she pass recently?”

“Three years ago,” said Lord Galbraith. “She lived here with us. Never married, quiet little thing. But never any trouble. I rather liked having her around.”

“Sylvester, we do not talk about your sister,” said Lady Galbraith.

“My dear, the girls are simply curious,” said Lord Galbraith.

“It is not appropriate to speak of the dead,” said Lady Galbraith. “You girls do not need to know everything about our family history. It is of no relevance to your situations here.”

“They will want to know she died here.” Douglas’s words slurred as his sleazy gaze rested on my chest.

“Douglas! Do be quiet,” snapped Lady Galbraith.

“Your sister died in this house?” I kept my focus on Lord Galbraith, feeling the dagger like stare from his wife.

“She did,” said Lord Galbraith. “Her heart gave out on her, and she was found dead in the garden.”

That would explain why her ghost was lurking about under an oak tree in the grounds. “She can’t have been all that old when she died.”

“She was no age,” said Lord Galbraith. “My younger sister. No one even realised she had a weak heart.”

“I looked after Beatrice for most of her life,” said Cecil. “And I didn’t detect any problems with her heart. It was one of those conditions that simply went undetected. It’s rare, but it does happen.”

“Until she dropped dead from it,” said Douglas. “That gave the game away.”

“Well, yes, but you know what I mean.” Cecil blinked several times. “Beatrice always seemed in excellent health. She never smoked and only drank at Christmas. She was a sweet lady. It was a tragedy what happened to her.”

A blast of cold air shot across my face, and I gulped down a squeak of surprise. The chandelier over the dining table flickered on and off several times before Beatrice appeared, standing behind her brother’s chair, a deep scowl upon her face as she glared at the back of his head.

I heard the muted sounds of Flipper scratching at the door to be let in. He would be frantic knowing I was in the room with a ghost. I jumped up and grabbed my empty plate. “Let me clear for you,” I said to Lord Galbraith.

“That’s not necessary,” said Lord Galbraith. “We can leave the plates on the side, and the catering staff will come and collect them later.”

“I want to. Since it’s my first night here, it would be good to feel useful.” I scurried around collecting empty plates, keeping an eye on Beatrice to see what she might do next. From the look on her face, it wouldn’t be good. The glare she still shot Lord Galbraith was not one of a kindly sibling.

Helen joined me in the plate collection task, narrowly avoiding the clutching fingers of Douglas as she collected his cutlery.

“Thank you for a lovely dinner, Lord and Lady Galbraith.” I held a pile of dirty plates in my hands. “We will take these to the kitchen.”

“You would be most welcome to join us in the parlor for coffee and brandy,” said Lord Galbraith. “Do not feel you have to hide away in your rooms when you are not working. We want you to feel a part of this family.”

“Within reason,” said Lady Galbraith.

“That's a kind offer,” I said. “But I expect we will have a busy day coming up and need an early night so we are ready for work tomorrow.”

“Very good,” said Lord Galbraith. “I will bid you both a good night and see you tomorrow.”

“Don’t forget, six o’clock sharp,” said Lady Galbraith to Helen.

“I’ll be there,” said Helen, following me out of the dining hall.

Flipper met me at the door, his anxious gaze pinned to me as we hurried along the corridor and into the kitchen.

“I take it that the drop in temperature and flickering lights meant our ghost joined us for dinner,” said Helen, as I deposited the plates in the kitchen sink.

“She was standing behind her brother,” I said. “At least we know now who she is and how she died.”

“The ghost of Beatrice Galbraith.” Helen settled at the large wooden table in the center of the kitchen. The room furnishings were dated but clean, with an enormous Belfast sink by the window, wooden worktops, and pale grey kitchen units covering most of the walls. The floors were black slate and uneven in places, and a drying rack for clothes hung over the table.

I joined Helen and sat down. “So it would appear. But if she died of a heart attack, why is she hounding her brother?” A glass shattered by the sink, and a second later, Beatrice appeared at the end of the table.

Flipper whined and pawed at the ground, before resting his head in my lap and gazing up at me.

“Let me guess,” said Helen. “Beatrice has arrived.”

“And she’s not looking happy,” I said, focusing on the ghost. “You need to tell us what’s happening. If you died of a heart attack, why did you seem so angry with your brother?”

Beatrice began doing her mock strangling impersonation again.

“That’s not helping me,” I said to her. “You can’t throttle yourself and expect me to understand what you mean.”

“Maybe her death was only staged to look like a heart attack,” said Helen. “Could somebody have killed her and left her outside to make it look like she collapsed and died?”

“From what Cecil said, Beatrice sounded in good health and simply had an undetected heart defect.”

Beatrice shook her head and wiped her hands down her arms as if trying to get rid of something.

The back door to the kitchen opened, and Zach stood in the doorway. He had cleaned up since our last encounter, his dark hair still looking damp as he swept it from his sharp, stubbled jawline. In his clean jeans and white shirt, he looked downright handsome.

“I saw the kitchen lights on and thought I’d investigate,” said Zach. “Mind if I join you for a cup of tea?”

“Come in,” said Helen brightly. “You might be able to help us with something we were discussing.” She jumped up and switched on the kettle.

“I’ll do my best.” Zach sat next to me at the table, and I detected a hint of citrus and possibly the lingering odor of grass cuttings. It was a pleasant combination of scents.

“We were talking about what happened to Lord Galbraith’s sister, Beatrice,” said Helen. “Over the awful family dinner we’ve just had to endure, we discovered she died of a heart attack.”

“Her death was before my time here,” said Zach.

“You don’t know anything about her?” Helen turned and pouted at him.

“I didn’t say that,” said Zach with a wry smile. “Nobody talks about her much, but I’ve heard a few things in the village.”

“Such as?” Helen dumped some loose-leaf tea into a pot and poured on boiling water.

“Everyone says the same thing about her,” said Zach. “She was quiet, kept to herself. Her only companion was her brother. Although she often kept dogs, she didn’t have any real friends and seemed to enjoy spending her time alone. There’s not much to say about Beatrice Galbraith.”

I noticed a cup on the table shaking and grabbed hold of it before Beatrice could work up enough energy to shatter it. “And she died of natural causes?”

“As far as I know,” said Zach. “People say it was her heart. Why the interest?”

“Just curious about the family, that’s all,” I said.

Zach’s intense gaze landed on me and a smile tugged at his mouth. “Beatrice sounds like a sweet old spinster. But that’s as much of the story as you’ll get out of me. What did Sylvester have to say about her?”

“Much the same,” I said. “But then his dragon of a wife shut him up and said it was not polite to talk about the dead.”

“The lovely Penelope.” Zach accepted a cup of tea from Helen, who joined us at the table. “Yes, she does tend to come down rather hard on the female employees.”

“Do you think she’s jealous?” asked Helen. “Perhaps she sees Lorna as a love rival?”

I choked on the tea I’d just taken a sip of. “She has nothing to worry about there.”

“Do you have a husband waiting for you back home?” asked Zach.

“No, Lorna is very single,” said Helen, before I’d had an opportunity to respond.

“No husband or boyfriend.” I cringed, realising how desperate that sounded.

“That’s a shame,” said Zach. “It’s always nice to have a companion in your life.”

“I have Flipper,” I said, realising once again how desperate and lonely I sounded.

Zach nodded. “Dogs are excellent companions.”

“Are you married?” Helen asked Zach.

“You don’t need to answer that,” I said to him. “Helen is being nosy.”

Zach grinned. “No, it’s fine. I’m not married, I’m not engaged, and I have no girlfriend. This job keeps me busy. And, if I’m honest, there aren’t that many eligible women in the village. Unless you like the older ladies who specialise in wearing sagging stockings and clipping their hair into a bun.”

“Just like Beatrice,” I said to myself.

“What’s that?” Zach gave me a curious look.

I bit my bottom lip, not ready to reveal to a stranger that I could see ghosts. “We saw a painting of Beatrice in the dining hall. She looked like the sort of lady who might like to wear a bun as a hairstyle.”

“Oh, right,” said Zach. “There are a few other pictures of her around the house. And yes, she does seem to be rather matronly. I can also imagine her with a bun.”

Another glass shattered by the sink, making us all jump.

I hurried over and swept the broken shards up with a broom. “Must have fallen over.” I glanced at Beatrice who still stood by the table. There was no way I could communicate with her and tell her to stop breaking things, without looking like a complete weirdo in front of Zach.

The back door of the kitchen opened for a second time, and Karl Jenkins strolled through. He paused for a second as he took in the group sitting around the table. “Wondered who was in here.” He poured himself a mug of tea without being asked and sat down.

“You don’t usually come in here,” said Zach coolly.

“Thought I’d make the effort, given we have new people,” said Karl.

Zach snorted and drank some tea.

“Enjoying your first day, ladies?” asked Karl with a smirk.

“We were just talking about Lord Galbraith’s dead sister,” I said to him, wondering if he had any useful insights into her death since he’d been here the longest.

“Old Beatrice,” said Karl. “What do you want to know about that biddy?”

The air around us chilled, and I suppressed a shudder. “We were talking about how she died.”

“It was a heart attack, so that poor excuse of a doctor reckons,” said Karl. “But Beatrice led a sheltered life. Can’t imagine anything making her heart give up so easily.”

“You don’t think she had a heart attack?” I asked.

“I’m no expert,” said Karl, “but her being found outside was strange. What was she doing in the grounds?”

“You know where the body was found?” I moved towards the table, the broken glass forgotten.

“Sure, she was discovered face down in a pile of oak leaves under the old oak near the compost heaps,” said Karl. “Dressed in her white nightie, buttoned up to the neck. And she had no shoes on. No one could figure out why she decided to go out walking in the dead of night barefoot in her nightgown.”

“Did she sleepwalk?” I risked a glance at Beatrice and saw her shaking her head.

“Never saw the old girl do it when she was still around.” Karl tipped his seat back, seeming to revel in the attention he was getting. “But she may have done so and I never noticed. I have a place next to the garage, and she was rarely over there, unless she needed a lift somewhere, which wasn’t often.”

“Maybe she was disturbed by something in the night,” said Helen. “She could have gone outside to investigate and been attacked.”

“Not possible,” said Karl. “Cecil might be an idiot, but even he would have noticed obvious marks on her body. And there was nothing. They did an autopsy, as you would expect, but it came back as heart failure.”

“So it really was a heart attack.” I looked over at Beatrice who glared back at me, her image shimmering in and out of focus.

“Why the interest in her?” asked Karl.

“No real interest,” I said, “but we were discussing her with the family over dinner and were curious as to what happened to her.”

“Don’t let Lady Galbraith hear you gossiping about the family,” said Karl. “There is nothing she hates more than gossips. Although there are plenty of rumours about her I could tell you.”

“Haven’t you got a car that needs cleaning?” Zach tilted his mug from side to side in his hands.

“Am I encroaching on your territory?” asked Karl, shooting a pointed look in my direction.

Zach glared at Karl. “This isn’t my territory.”

Karl stood up and drained his mug. “I can just see you in the kitchen, arms covered in soap bubbles as you scrub the pots clean. You might make a better pot cleaner than you do gardener.” The tension in the room notched up as the men glared at each other.

I looked over at Helen and shrugged. I had no idea why they didn’t like each other. But I hadn’t warmed to Karl when we’d first met. Maybe he had a knack of rubbing people the wrong way.

I faked a yawn and stood up. “Well, I’d better go to bed; it’s been a busy day.”

“Yes, me too.” Helen joined me by the kitchen door.

Zach nodded a good night, but Karl ignored us, seeming to delight in keeping his glare fixed on Zach.

I glanced at Beatrice and saw her shake her head at me, a look of disappointment on her face. It wasn’t my fault she’d died, but that look made me feel like I’d let her down.

Pulling open the kitchen door and beckoning Flipper to my side, I left the men to whatever drama was going on between them.

“That was interesting,” muttered Helen as we walked away from the kitchen.

“They don’t seem to like each other; that’s for sure,” I said.

“It's likely that's how most people react when they're around Karl,” said Helen.

“He's not going to win any buddy of the year awards anytime soon,” I said.

“And what about Beatrice?” asked Helen as we reached the top of the stairs.

“What about her?” I asked. “She died of a heart attack. There’s nothing to investigate.”

Flipper barked, and the lights in the corridor dimmed. Beatrice appeared before me, her mouth downcast and her eyes shining.

“Don’t try to make me feel sorry for you,” I said to her. “There’s nothing I can do for you.”

“But it is strange,” said Helen. “The way she was found. Why would she have gone outside on her own in the middle of the night?”

“Beatrice could have gone outside to get some fresh air because she wasn’t feeling well because her heart was failing,” I said. “People do strange things when they get sick. I heard about one guy who was having heart pains and was found dead with his head stuck in the cleaning cupboard. Why would he be hunting for bleach when his heart was giving out on him?”

“I guess that is a bit odd,” said Helen.

Beatrice shook her head. She pointed at an oil painting mounted in a gold colored frame on the stairwell. It was of her brother and his wife.

“Beatrice is showing me that picture,” I said to Helen, gesturing to the portrait on the wall. “She seems convinced someone was involved in her death. And from the way she kept glaring at Lord Galbraith in the dining hall, he seems like her prime suspect.”

“I can’t imagine Lord Galbraith doing anything mean to anyone. He seems like a nice old boy,” said Helen.

Beatrice frowned and shook her head sharply.

“Beatrice is suggesting otherwise,” I said.

“We could find out a bit more information about Beatrice; there’d be no harm in that. Perhaps she needs closure, needs to be convinced she did die of a heart attack.”

“There is potential harm. We might end up without a job,” I said. “If we get caught poking around in family business, it won’t look good.”

“We won’t lose our jobs over something so trivial,” said Helen. “No one will know what we’re doing.”

I looked from Helen to Beatrice, feeling myself relenting as I stared into the ghost’s sad eyes. “Fine, but we are only going to do very discreet inquiries. No making it obvious what we are looking into. I want to give this job a proper chance, and won’t be able to do that if I get caught talking to ghosts and locked up for observation in some psychiatric ward.”

“Discretion is my middle name.” Helen smiled. “Besides, it will make life more interesting and give me something to think about other than dirty sheets and having to deal with the scary Lady Galbraith and her dresses.”

I had to agree. I was intrigued about Beatrice's death. She seemed convinced something bad happened to her, and it was odd how she’d been discovered outside in her nightgown.

I looked at Beatrice. “We’ll help you, but you have to behave yourself. No more smashing glasses or turning lights on and off. And do not bother me in bed at night. I'll die of fright if you try to creep under the covers.” The ghosts I encountered did have a tendency to play with the bed covers or chill my toes. Maybe they were entertaining themselves, but I just found it annoying.

Beatrice’s image brightened. I took that as a sign she was happy.

“Fine, now it really is time for bed,” I said. “It looks like we’ve got some ghost hunting to do tomorrow.”

Chapter 7

I was up early the next morning, partly awoken by a crack of bright sunshine peeking through the thick crimson colored curtains. But I was also keen to get a head start on the ghost investigation. I had an hour before starting work with Lord Galbraith, and my first stop would be the garden, where Beatrice’s body was found.

Flipper jumped onto the bed as soon as I stirred, and we had a cuddle before I hauled myself out from the warm covers. “Time for us to do a little snooping,” I said to him.

He wagged his tail in agreement and circled the room a few times, eager to get outside.

A quick shower and change of clothes, and I was out the front door with Flipper. The bright morning sunshine played across the water in the fountain at the front of the house, and birds sang to each other from the established oak trees dotted around the edge of the front lawn.

I hurried around the side of the house, my feet sounding too loud on the gravel. There was nobody else about, although I imagined Helen was already having to endure Lady Galbraith’s icy manner as she worked on her dresses.

Walking through the rose garden, I inhaled the heady scent of the flowers as they opened their petals for the day, splashes of deep red and intense orange around the borders. I made my way towards the compost heap and the oak tree where Beatrice’s body had been discovered.

She was waiting for me under the oak tree, dressed in the same tweed suit as yesterday, her gaze fixed to the ground. Flipper ran towards her and circled the tree, before coming to sit by Beatrice’s heel.

She raised her gaze, and a sad looking smile crossed her face. She passed her hand over the top of Flipper’s head.

I checked around before speaking to Beatrice. Didn’t want anybody catching me talking to myself. “He likes you. Most ghosts he encounters make him agitated. I’ve never seen Flipper so calm before with a ghost. Did you have a dog when you were alive?”

Beatrice nodded and pointed to her right. In the distance, I could hear the sound of dogs barking. They must be Douglas’s hunting dogs. A wave of anger ran through me as I thought about how carelessly he had talked about his animals last night.

I walked around the oak tree, not certain what I expected to find. Since Beatrice’s death happened three years ago, there would be no evidence to be found. I stopped in front of Beatrice. “What can you tell me about your death? You seem convinced you were hurt by somebody. Was it a family member?”

Beatrice nodded. She traced some symbols in the air, and after a few seconds of watching her, I realised what she was doing. “You’re spelling something. Do it again, but more slowly this time.”

Beatrice tilted her head to one side and raised her eyebrows at me, but then began again, slowly, making the letters larger.

“SYL... you think your brother was involved in your death? Are you spelling Sylvester?” That didn’t surprise me, since she’d seemed so angry with him last night.

Beatrice nodded again. She waved her hands in the air and her agitation made her form shimmer out of focus.

“What could he have done to you to make your heart give up?” I asked.

Beatrice shook her head and began doing her choking routine again.

“You weren’t strangled,” I said. “From what I learned last night, there were no marks on your body. If you had been strangled, that would be clear to see, even for an amateur like me.”

Beatrice dropped to the ground and kicked her legs a few times, her hand on her heart.

I tried hard not to laugh, but it looked so comical, a middle-aged ghost in a sensible tweed suit flailing about on the ground.

Beatrice glared at me and stood up, her hands going over her skirt as if trying to remove spectral mud from it.

“Lorna, is that you?” Zach emerged from behind a shed near the compost heap, spade in hand, and dressed in faded jeans and a checked shirt. “I thought I heard somebody talking.”

“Oh, yes, I was having one of my usual conversations with Flipper.” I nodded at Flipper, who had followed Beatrice’s antics with interest, his ears pricked up and gaze intent.

Zach grinned at me. “I bet the two of you have great conversations.” He looked at the oak tree and shivered. “There’s a surprising chill in the air this morning. Autumn isn’t too far away.”

The chill had more to do with Beatrice’s ghost than the arrival of autumn. “You could be right.”

Zach’s gaze remained on the tree. “This is where Beatrice’s body was found.”

“Was it?” I attempted to feign innocence.

“Almost right where you’re standing if Karl’s account of her death is to be believed.” Zach inspected a loose piece of bark on the oak tree. “It’s strange, but I often get the sense there is something here.”

“You think her spirit is still here?” I looked over to Beatrice and saw her studying Zach intently.

“I’m not saying her ghost is haunting the garden.” Zach glanced over at me. “But it’s almost as if a part of Beatrice was left behind in the place she died. Some leftover memory or energy. That must sound crazy to you.”

I shared a smile with Beatrice. It looked like I'd found a kindred spirit in Zach. “It’s not so crazy. There’s a lot people don’t understand about this world. Ghosts or spirit energy could be real. Maybe only a few people can tap into it. You might need to be a little different to do so, but I wouldn’t rule out anything. What’s to say Beatrice isn’t standing here, right now, watching us?”

“I hope she isn’t. I’d find that unnerving,” said Zach.

“For all we know, ghosts could be all around us.”

“I’d prefer it if they weren’t.” Zach gave me a curious look. “You seem interested in this sort of thing. Are you a psychic?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Well, that’s good. I don’t believe in that sort of thing. People can’t communicate with the dead.”

A pang of disappointment hit me. There I was thinking Zach might be open to the possibility of ghosts. “I’m happy to say I’m open-minded about the idea. After all, didn’t people think that, when electricity was first invented, it was some kind of evil spirit, and they were afraid of it?”

“Quite possibly.” Zach ran his hands through his hair. “And maybe you’re right, and there is some of Beatrice still in this house. She spent most of her time here, and she seemed to love the place. Perhaps she doesn't want to leave.”

“It is odd how Beatrice came to be out here on the night she died.”

“I agree.” A smile traced across Zach’s face. “A lady should never be on her own at night.”

Beatrice whipped some leaves from the ground and stirred them around our feet, not looking happy with Zach.

“Some of us ladies are more independent than others,” I said to him. “We can look after ourselves.”

“And while that’s a great thing,” said Zach slowly, “it’s most likely a nice thing to have someone to take care of you as well.”

“It’s a shame there was no one here for Beatrice. No one to keep her safe,” I said.

“Mr. Booth and Miss Shadow, what are you doing out here at this early hour?” Lady Galbraith stalked towards us, a thick woollen cardigan wrapped around her thin frame.

“I was getting some air,” I said, a feeling of guilt running through me, even though I’d done nothing wrong.

“And I was checking on the compost heap,” said Zach. “Needed to get an early start today.”

Lady Galbraith gave Zach a curt nod. “Get back to work then. And Miss Shadow, your work is inside with my husband, not spending time with our gardener.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said quietly. “I’m on my way.”

I looked over to Beatrice and saw her give her sister-in-law a sad smile and shake her head. I couldn’t work out why she reacted that way. Lady Galbraith didn’t inspire feelings of warmth and affection in me. But the look Beatrice was giving her seemed full of pity.

Saying a quick goodbye to Zach, I hurried after Lady Galbraith, who had already walked away from the oak tree, not waiting for me to join her.

My investigation into Beatrice's death would have to wait until later when I wasn’t being observed by the steely gaze of Lady Galbraith.

Chapter 8

I went to the kitchen, fed Flipper, grabbed a mug of tea and ate some toast, and headed to Lord Galbraith’s study to begin work.

Three hours of rather boring filing later, my back ached and my fingers were sore from numerous paper cuts. Lord Galbraith had left a scribbled note on his desk with details of how he wanted his filing done, but there was no sign of him.

My throat was dry from the dusty files I’d been handling. I left the study in search of another mug of tea and walked straight into Cecil.

He staggered back a couple of steps, his hands raised. “Miss Shadow, I must apologise. My mind was elsewhere.”

“No harm done. I was just taking a break from my work.” I took a shallow breath, trying to avoid the overwhelming scent of alcohol seeping out of Cecil’s pores.

“Good idea. All work and no play can make for very dull times.” He adjusted the dishevelled jacket he wore, and I noticed he was in the same clothes as yesterday.

“Would you like to join me?” I asked. Now might be a good opportunity to get some information from Cecil about Beatrice’s death. If he was still a little tipsy from last night, he may be more amenable to chatting and breaking patient confidentiality.

“Ah, yes, some tea would be good,” said Cecil. “Must admit to having had something of a heavy night. Douglas brings out the worst in me. I think we ploughed our way through the best part of a bottle of brandy before the night was over.”

I walked side-by-side with Cecil to the kitchen and, finding it empty, set to work on brewing some tea. “Were you thinking about Beatrice?” I asked Cecil.

“My goodness, whatever gave you that idea?” Cecil sat up straight in the seat he had slumped into. “She is not a recent patient of mine. I’d have no reason to think of her.”

“I just wondered, since we were talking about her over dinner last night.” I poured the tea into two mugs. “Perhaps it brought back memories. You said you looked after her health for many years. Were you close?”

“As close as any doctor and patient can be,” said Cecil.

“Didn’t you know the family all that well, back then?” I sat down in the seat opposite Cecil and passed him a mug of tea.

“I knew them well enough,” said Cecil. “Sylvester is my closest friend. We’ve known each other since we were young lads. Growing up in boarding school and all that, you have no choice but to get close to each other. He’s a good friend, always looks out for me.”

“And did you become friends with Beatrice when you were here?”

“We were not enemies,” said Cecil. “But she was quiet and enjoyed her own company.” He took a sip of his tea, grimaced, and pulled out a hip flask, dumping a glug of liquid into his mug. “Besides, you need to keep the relationship professional when you treat somebody. Patients tell you all kinds of deep dark secrets that I don’t think they let anybody else know about. The bond between doctor and patient is a sacred one.”

I leaned forward. “Did Beatrice have a deep dark secret?”

“No! She was a lovely, quiet lady.” Cecil straightened the cuffs of his jacket. “It was sad what happened to her. In a way, I can’t help but feel a little guilty. Perhaps if I’d completed a few more tests or examined her heart more frequently, I may have picked up on the defect. There could even have been an operation to repair any damage if I had known about it.”

“Was the problem with her heart treatable?” I asked him.

Cecil shrugged and looked down into his mug. “It may have been. But it was several years ago. My mind gets a little fuzzy on the details.”

No surprise there if he worked his way through a large amount of brandy on a regular occasion. “I think I'd have liked Beatrice. She seemed like a nice lady.”

“Yes, she was a nice person. Rather overshadowed by Lady Galbraith. They were polar opposites. Beatrice liked the quiet life and dressed conservatively. Her idea of a nightmare was going to one of Lady Galbraith’s giant soirées and being presented as the spinster sister-in-law.”

“She didn’t like to socialise?”

“I got the impression she thought people looked down at her because she hadn’t married into a well moneyed family or made a name for herself,” said Cecil. “But she was content. She didn’t trouble anybody, and nobody bothered her. Like I said, a sweet lady.”

I glanced around the room, half expecting Beatrice to appear and try to tell me if Cecil was saying the right things about her. But the room was silent, and there was no sign of Beatrice. Perhaps her appearing to me in the garden had worn out her energy, and she was hiding somewhere recharging.

“How is Sylvester treating you so far?” asked Cecil. “Don’t let him work you too hard. He can be a devil in the detail, and he’s a real grammar fiend. We were taught the importance of good writing and grammar when we were at school together.”

“Well, I’ve been sorting out his files this morning, so I haven’t had to worry about that,” I said. “I did get told off by Lady Galbraith this morning for being outside before I started work.”

Cecil grimaced and nodded his head. “Penelope is a firm woman. She does not believe in flexibility. Be a little careful around her. She will accept one mistake, but do it again, and that will be it. I’ve seen plenty of staff come and go from Galbraith Manor, and all of them were fired by her ladyship. She has very exacting standards.”

I glanced towards the kitchen door, half expecting a stone-faced Lady Galbraith to be there about to give me my marching orders because I’d been caught having a break.

“I should return to work,” I said. “Don’t want anyone to think I’m slacking off on my first day.”

“Good idea,” said Cecil. “I may stay and have another tea. Then I need to get to the village surgery. Had to cancel a few appointments this morning because of my sore head.” He rubbed at the creases on his forehead with his stubby fingers.

“Maybe you’re getting a migraine,” I suggested, ignoring the scent of whiskey drifting from his mug.

“Quite possibly,” said Cecil. “I often suffer with a bad head in the mornings.”

I stifled a laugh as I left Cecil to his whiskey and tea drinking marathon and returned to the study to complete the filing. On my way, I heard Lady Galbraith’s raised voice and increased my pace, keen to put as much distance between us as possible. I hoped she wasn’t being too mean to Helen.

Evening arrived, and I was bored of working on my own. Flipper was good company, but he did enjoy taking long dog naps, so I hadn’t even had him to talk to most of the time. Beatrice hadn’t dropped by for a visit, and Lord Galbraith hadn’t returned from wherever he was. I tidied my work, closed the study door, and wandered to the kitchen with Flipper in the hope of finding some company.

I was pleased to see Helen in the kitchen, standing at the stove, stirring the contents of a pot.

“That smells great.” I inhaled the rich vegetable scent. “Is there any for me?”

“Of course there is,” said Helen. “I’m making our favorite, butter bean and roasted vegetable stew.”

“Don’t we get food from those fancy caterers the family uses?” I eased myself into a chair by the table. Flipper rested his head on my knee, his gaze on Helen’s cooking.

“We can have whatever they’ve bought as a starter,” said Helen. “We only got one measly tray of food, though. Tiny delicacies of air and fluffy pastry between the two of us. We are growing girls; we can’t be expected to survive on that.”

I noticed a covered tray sitting on the counter. “I need more than that.”

“Exactly. I did a good search of the pantries and cupboards, and there are loads of preserved foods and tinned goodies. I’ll be able to rustle us up something nice every evening to go with the fancy treats that get brought in.”

“Happy to see you survived your first day with Lady Galbraith. Just how terrible was she to work for?”

“Not too bad,” said Helen. “She was a bit on the frosty side to start with, and complained about almost everything I did. But after I’d completed the alterations and adjustments on her first dress, she softened a little. She even asked me a few questions about myself. I’ve only finished two of the dresses and have more work to do, but I think Lady Galbraith has realised I’m not a total idiot when it comes to dressmaking.”

“I don’t think she likes me. She caught me sneaking about outside this morning,” I said. “I went to the oak tree where Beatrice’s body was found. I wanted to have a look around and get a feel for the place. Beatrice was there, but she wasn’t much help.”

“Have you seen much of her today?” Helen dished the rich smelling stew into two large bowls and spooned some into a smaller dish for Flipper, before carrying them to the table.

“Only this morning at the oak tree,” I said. “And then she vanished. I did manage to get in a bit of questioning with Cecil, although he was a little worse for wear. He seems a bit too fond of alcohol to be reliable.”

Helen carried over the uncovered tray of tiny filo pastry tarts and sat them down. They looked delicious, but she was right; they wouldn’t have filled me up, even if I’d eaten the whole tray.

I placed Flipper’s dish on the ground and then selected a few of the pastries. “This all looks great.”

“Maybe Cecil’s incompetence led to Beatrice’s death.” Helen sat down opposite me and selected her own pastries. “If he’d been drinking when he treated Beatrice and missed her heart problem, maybe that’s why she’s still around. She could blame him for her death.”

“She didn’t appear when I was questioning Cecil,” I said. “I’d have thought if she believed Cecil was involved, she would have helped me when I was speaking with him. Cecil might be a bit incompetent, but I don’t get the sense there’s anything off about him. I think he’s just easily influenced and a bit too fond of brandy.” I paused for a moment to enjoy Helen’s stew. It was full of rich flavors, a hint of cinnamon, some plump juicy apricots, and a dash of spice.

“So no further forward with discovering if Beatrice was killed,” said Helen.

“Not yet. And Zach almost caught me talking to Beatrice this morning,” I said. “I had to pretend I was talking to Flipper.”

“You don’t want him to think you’re crazy.” Helen grinned at me.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why not?”

“Because he’s really good looking,” said Helen. “And single. I thought he might be your type.”

“He is a nice-looking guy,” I said. “And he mentioned being able to feel Beatrice’s presence at the oak tree.”

“Somebody else who can see ghosts.” Helen’s blue eyes brightened. “You could form a team and go ghost hunting together. You know, like they do on those TV programmes.”

“No, he can’t actually see ghosts. I think he meant he got the sense Bridget left a lasting impression on the household. And now she is gone, there’s a hole that nobody has filled.”

“You should ask him more about what he knows about ghosts,” said Helen. “Maybe he’ll confess he can see them. It would be great for you to have a ghostbusting buddy.”

“I already have two of those,” I said. “You and Flipper are my team. I don’t want anybody else. Four is a crowd.”

“You know that’s not true. And I can’t see ghosts,” said Helen. “They sometimes give me the chills when they get a bit hands-on with their ghostly fingers. But other than that, I have to rely on you telling me things or listen to Flipper whining to alert me that something spooky is coming.”

“Our team is fine as it is,” I said. “Besides, if I do confess to Zach that I can see spirits, he’d most likely run in the opposite direction, as every sane person should do. My ability can hardly be described as normal and is definitely not a turn-on to any potential boyfriend.”

There was a rap on the kitchen door, and Douglas pushed it open. He was dressed in casual tan colored chinos, a white shirt, with a jacket slung over one shoulder.

“Wonder if I might have a quick word, Lorna,” he said. “Bit of business I need your help with.”

I looked down at my half-eaten stew. “Perhaps I could meet you when I’ve finished my dinner?”

“This will only take a moment.” Douglas gave me a smile that veered to the wrong side of slimy. “Come on, Sylvester said I could make use of your services.”

It appeared he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Very well.” Flipper grumbled as I eased his head off my lap and walked into the corridor.

Douglas shut the door behind me, leaving Flipper and Helen inside the kitchen. “How are you enjoying yourself here?”

“So far so good,” I said, eager to get back to my dinner. “What business do you need me to do for you?”

“I need you to keep your nose out of my family’s affairs,” said Douglas.

I blinked a couple of times. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Rumor has it you’re asking a lot of questions about Beatrice. The old girl died of heart failure. Why are you prying into her death?”

“I’m not prying,” I said. “I asked a few questions about her. I saw her portrait on the wall, heard that she’d died not so long ago, and wanted to find out a little more. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But you see, there is.” Douglas took a step towards me. “Beatrice died of heart failure.”

“So I understand.” I refused to be intimidated by Douglas, despite him being so close I could smell stale cigarettes on his breath.

“Which means I received a substantial inheritance from her.”

“I’m happy for you,” I said. “But what does that have to do with me?”

“She had no children and left her money and share of the family business to younger family members, me included,” said Douglas.

“Okay, but I still don’t understand why any of this matters.”

“There is a stipulation in Beatrice’s will regarding the cause of her death,” said Douglas. “It would seem the old girl was a little more paranoid than she needed to be. There is a caveat in her will stating that, if she died unnaturally, her fortune went to a number of animal charities.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You mean, if Beatrice was killed for her money, you wouldn’t get anything?”

“Exactly that.” Douglas shrugged. “I believe she got the idea into her head that someone was out to get her. That her money was more important to us than her wellbeing. Can you imagine such a thing?”

I could. It was easy to imagine Douglas conniving with someone to end Beatrice’s life so he could get his grubby fingers on her money and no doubt squander it as quickly as possible. “So you actually wanted Beatrice to stay alive and not die?”

“Quite the contrary,” said Douglas. “The sooner she died the better, as far as I was concerned. It meant I could get my hands on her money and begin to enjoy my life, rather than being beholden to my idiot relatives.”

“And I’m sure it’s beneath you to go out and earn your own money?”

Douglas snorted a laugh. “The aristocracy do not work.”

I shook my head. Douglas was not aristocracy. “Are you saying you did harm Beatrice to get her money?”

“I had nothing to do with her death,” said Douglas. “But if your prying uncovers that somebody else did kill her, that would mean my fortune would be taken away and given to the three-legged, one-eyed mutts in the animal shelter. That is unacceptable.”

I couldn’t help but smile. It sounded like the perfect way to share out Beatrice’s wealth, especially if it meant Douglas didn’t get anything.

“So, a word of advice.” Douglas reached forward and squeezed my shoulder. “Stop prying into things that aren’t your concern. Beatrice is dead; she is in the ground, rotting away quite happily. Her inheritance has been given to the people who deserve it, and that is an end to the matter. Stop looking for problems where there aren’t any, especially when your meddling could impact negatively on my fortune. Do we understand each other?”

I tried to shake his hand from my shoulder but he held on, my flesh protesting underneath his fingers. “Surely you would want Beatrice’s last requests carried out properly?”

“Not at my expense, I wouldn’t,” said Douglas. “Leave this alone.”

Icy tendrils snaked over my flesh, and I saw Douglas shudder. It seemed we were no longer alone, and for that, I was grateful.

The lights in the hallway blinked out, and I heard Douglas yelp in the darkness and let go of my shoulder. When the lights flicked back on, Douglas was several feet away from me, rubbing the back of his head.

“What on earth just happened?” He glared at me. “Did you strike me?”

“I was nowhere near you, as you can see,” I said. “The lights went out, and I stayed here. What happened to you?”

“It felt as if somebody dumped a bucket of iced water over me and then thumped me in the back of the head with their fist.”

I spotted the vague outline of Beatrice next to Douglas. Her actions would have taken most of her energy, but I was pleased she’d come to my rescue. Douglas was a sleaze, and for a few seconds, I’d been worried.

“There’s nobody else in the hallway,” I said to him. “You must have made a mistake.”

Douglas looked around him and returned to glaring at me. “Whatever happened, I’m holding you responsible.” He pointed a shaking finger at me. “Don’t forget what I’ve told you. Keep your nose out of family business.” Another few seconds of glaring, and he turned and stomped down the hall.

“Thanks for that, Beatrice,” I whispered. “Douglas isn't a nice guy.”

Her vague, wispy outline shimmered, and I thought I spotted her nodding her head.

Was Douglas mean enough to plot Beatrice’s murder and make it look like a natural death? Was he so mean he would kill a family member to get hold of her money?

From his behavior towards me, I figured he might.

Chapter 9

The next day, I had breakfast with only Flipper for company, and spent a couple of hours continuing with the filing Lord Galbraith had left me.

I was just thinking about taking a break when the study door opened and Lord Galbraith walked through. He pulled up short and stared at me as if he’d never seen me before in his life.

“Miss Shadow! How are things going?” He strode over to the desk and peered at the paperwork in front of me.

“I’ve been creating your new filing system, Lord Galbraith,” I said. “I wanted to get a head start before we got to work on any dictation you may have for me.”

“Yes, my apologies for being absent yesterday. I had a bit of business in town and was then called away to an old drinking buddy at an estate a few miles away. I stayed the night, having gotten a bit tipsy on his homemade sloe gin.” He pulled out a chair by the desk and slumped into it. “Actually, my head is still a bit soft after that encounter. I often forget I am not the young man I used to be. Alcohol has a rather nasty effect on me these days.”

A fondness for alcohol seemed to run in the family. “Is there anything in particular you want me to focus on today?”

“Yes, I have plenty of letters to dictate. Finish what you’re doing, and we will get to work on that.”

“Not a problem.” I was grateful to have a break from the filing.

Twenty minutes later, I was settled in front of Lord Galbraith’s computer, document open, and ready for him to begin his dictation.

Lord Galbraith leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. “The first letter is to Baron Charles Windsor, on the matter of the sale of fourteen Park Avenue.”

I focused on the screen, fingers dashing across the keyboard as Lord Galbraith dictated. It wasn’t an exciting topic, but it was something different, and it was nice to have company in the study.

Three hours of dictation later, my fingers ached and my head pounded from staring at the screen for so long. On several occasions, though, Lord Galbraith had dozed off, and that had given me some respite. I’d completed ten long letters, printed out the first drafts for Lord Galbraith to read, and just needed to make the changes before I caught the last post.

Lord Galbraith clapped his hands together. “We need a break. Time for tea and some of those sweet fancies.”

“I can get them.” I was eager to get out of my seat and stretch my legs.

“No need.” Lord Galbraith tugged on a red cord in the corner of the study. “Gladys is in today. She can sort out the tea and cakes. You haven’t met her, yet, have you?”

“Not yet,” I said. “She cleans and disappears before I get up.”

“I’ve changed her working hours so she will be around more,” said Lord Galbraith. “And I am also looking into employing a new cook. The food the catering company provides is good quality, but it’s hard to get them to be exacting and create the food I enjoy. Plus, I do miss the enticing smells from the kitchen. It seems to make the house homelier when there’s someone down there baking bread, making cakes, and looking after the whole family. Although my dear wife is not so keen.”

“If you want me to, I can place an advertisement for a new cook,” I said.

“Yes, what an excellent idea,” said Lord Galbraith. “I had better check with my darling wife before we go ahead with an advertisement, though. She doesn’t seem to like any of the cooks I employ. The last one had some issues with cleanliness that are best left unsaid. But I think a new cook would be ideal.”

The door to the study received a sharp rap before it was pushed open, and a tall, middle-aged woman, with dark hair shot through with grey stood before us. “You called, Lord Galbraith?”

“Gladys, do come in for a moment,” said Lord Galbraith. “You have yet to meet my new assistant, Miss Lorna Shadow.”

I shook hands with Gladys, getting a sense there was strength behind her firm handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I haven’t been around much recently, but that’s going to change now Lord Galbraith has increased my hours.” She shot him a grateful smile.

“Yes, Gladys will be doing the cleaning and some of the basic domestic servants’ work,” said Lord Galbraith.

I smiled at Gladys and saw her discreetly shake her head. “Yes, I can do the fetching and carrying, just as much as I can wave a duster around,” she said before turning her attention to Lord Galbraith. “What can I get for you?”

“A large pot of tea and some of those fancy cakes would be perfect,” said Lord Galbraith.

“Let me give you a hand.” I hopped up from my seat. Gladys had been working for the Galbraiths for years, and she might have some useful insights into what happened to Beatrice.

“I can manage the tea making duties,” said Gladys sharply, her dark eyes narrowing.

“I’m sure you make an excellent pot of tea,” I said. “But I'd like to stretch my legs.”

Gladys gave a shrug. “Very well.”

I followed her out of the study and along the corridor to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind me tagging along. When Lord Galbraith gets into the flow of his dictation, he doesn’t seem to remember things like comfort breaks.”

Gladys nodded. “It’s okay. But I want to make sure he sees me as useful and as indispensable as possible. Jobs around here aren’t plentiful, and the new hours he’s given me will be incredibly handy.”

“Please don’t think I’m trying to take over your job.” I watched as Gladys arranged the mugs and cake on a tray with expert precision. “I can just about boil an egg and leave all the cooking to my friend, Helen. She is Lady Galbraith’s new seamstress.”

“Yes, I’ve seen her about early in the morning hurrying to her ladyship’s room,” said Gladys.

“How long have you worked for the family?” I asked.

“Almost ten years,” said Gladys. “I returned to the village to care for my elderly mother, and when she died, I decided I wanted to stay. But old houses are expensive to run, and Lord Galbraith was kind enough to give me this cleaning job.” She glanced up at me. “The money covers the bills in the cottage I live in, but not much else. The whole place needs work. And with these increased hours, I’ll be able to get some new heating in before winter.”

“You must have known Beatrice Galbraith. We were talking about her over dinner the other night.”

“Yes, I was here when Beatrice was alive.” Gladys poured boiling water into a pretty patterned floral teapot.

“It was sad what happened to her,” I said.

“Very sad,” said Gladys. “She is buried in the grounds here.”

I looked up in surprise. “Can you do that?” The thought of a dead body buried in the garden unsettled me.

“Yes, it’s perfectly legal. You need to get permission, but providing you’re burying the body on privately owned land, it isn’t a problem,” said Gladys. “In fact, she specifically requested to be buried in the pet cemetery.”

“There’s an animal graveyard in the garden?”

“Yes, haven’t you found it yet?” asked Gladys with a smile. “It’s quite sweet really. Some of them even have their own little headstones telling you their name and how old they were when they died and what a beloved pet they were. The house has been much quieter since Beatrice died. She was always the one who wanted animals in the household. At one point, I think she had five or six dogs. Lord Galbraith is rather fond of them as well.”

“Perhaps Beatrice wanted to be buried close to her animal companions?”

“She may have,” said Gladys. “She loved her pets.”

“Did you think there was anything strange about the way Beatrice died?” I decided to test the water and see how Gladys reacted to being questioned.

“It was strange the poor lady was found dead outside in her nightwear,” said Gladys. “Not the most dignified way to go. I imagine, if she’s looking down on us, she would be mortified she’d been discovered in such a fashion. Beatrice was a very proper lady. Some might say old fashioned, but she had good qualities about her.”

“And there was an inquest and an autopsy completed to make sure her death was by natural causes?” I wanted to double check the information I’d gotten from Cecil was correct. He didn’t strike me as the most reliable of witnesses.

“From what I know of it.” Gladys gave me a curious look. “What interest have you in Beatrice?”

“It strikes me as sad that such a nice sounding lady died in such a manner.” I shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant. “Call me nosy if you like.”

“You can check out the pet cemetery and her grave if you want to.” Gladys lifted the full tray and gestured at the door for me to open it. “If you go past the compost heap and walk for about half a mile, the pet cemetery is on your right-hand side, surrounded by willow trees. There’s a small lake not too far away as well.”

“I might just do that.” I propped the door open for Gladys to walk through.

“Some people are into that sort of thing, wandering about the tombstones. Seems a bit morbid to me,” said Gladys. “I’m sure the family won’t mind, though. I don’t think any of them go down there, so they won’t even know if you have a look.”

I returned to the study with Gladys and settled back in my seat as she served the tea and cakes. Although the cakes were tiny, no more than a mouthful, they were delightful examples of all my favorite cakes; there was a miniature Victoria sandwich, a coffee and walnut cake, and a tiny bite of rich, moist fruitcake. I could have had several rounds of them, especially since Flipper had scoffed his fair share of my cakes. Every time he turned his sad looking eyes on me, he got a little treat.

“I’m going to take a short stroll,” said Lord Galbraith. “I won’t be long. I’ve made some changes to the letters you’ve done. Get those sorted and we can continue when I return.”

I waited for Lord Galbraith to leave and then slid a file out from the desk drawer. I’d noticed it yesterday when I’d been arranging the filing system, but hadn’t had an opportunity to read through it without being disturbed. “Keep an eye on the door for me, Flipper. This looks interesting.”

Flipper obediently walked over to the door and stationed himself in front of it.

The folder in my hands had the words Beatrice Galbraith printed across the front in black pen. I opened the file and discovered some newspaper clippings about Beatrice. Most of them involved her winning dog show competitions, and there were several black and white photographs of her kneeling next to a variety of dogs, a shy smile on her face.

There were also several clippings detailing her death. I scanned the articles and saw no comment had been made by the family about Beatrice’s demise. The facts in the articles were bland and unhelpful.

Underneath the newspaper clippings was a report from Cecil about her death. I scanned through it, but couldn’t see anything of value. The cause of death was listed as heart failure.

Flipper started whining and pacing, and I shut the folder quickly and shoved it in the drawer. A few seconds later, a cold draft flew past my face and some papers fluttered on the desk. It seemed as if Beatrice was watching out for me as well, making sure I wasn’t caught doing something I shouldn’t.

The study door opened and Lord Galbraith returned. “How are you getting on with those letters?”

I looked at the discarded pile of letters I should have been altering and gave him my brightest smile. “Almost done.”

***

I grabbed a late dinner with Helen, and we sat at the kitchen table, enjoying a bowl of tomato soup and some freshly made bread that had arrived from the village bakery.

“Any updates from our friendly neighborhood ghost?” Helen dipped a piece of bread into her soup.

“I found a file in Lord Galbraith’s office. There were newspaper clippings about his sister, but it didn’t provide much information that we don’t already know,” I said. “There was also a report and a death certificate signed by Cecil, stating the cause of death as heart failure.”

“Is Beatrice still pointing her ghostly finger at her brother as the only suspect?”

“No one else seems to be considered a suspect by her. I did find out from the cleaner, Gladys, that Beatrice’s body is buried in the grounds.”

“They have a graveyard in the garden?” Helen’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Yes. It is a bit strange to be buried in your back garden. Perhaps the site has been disturbed or she’s changed her mind and wants to be moved. That could be the real reason for her ghost being around, and Beatrice has simply gotten confused.”

Helen shuddered. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep knowing there’s a dead body not far from me.”

“There’s also an assortment of deceased pets there too,” I said. “Someone in the household set up a pet cemetery.”

“Now, you’re really going to give me nightmares,” said Helen. “Isn’t there a horror novel about a pet cemetery?”

I nodded. “I think it’s sweet, having a burial site for your beloved pets. I hate to think of what it will be like when Flipper dies, but I will find a way to keep his memory with me.” I stroked my hand across his warm fur, his head in its usual position on my knee.

“So long as you don’t decide to go around wearing some of his bones as a necklace. I’m fine with anything else.”

“Even having him stuffed and sat on the back seat of my car?”

“No! That’s horrible,” said Helen.

I looked down at Flipper and patted his head. “Nothing so macabre, but it would be nice to have a permanent memorial for him.” I felt tears in my eyes and blinked them away. Flipper was a wonder dog. He was going to live forever.

“So, we have Lord Galbraith as a suspect, which I’m still not convinced about,” said Helen. “But if it’s not him, then who else is on the suspect list for Beatrice’s possible murder?”

“I favor the cousin,” I said. I’d told Helen about his intimidating behavior last night. “Douglas has a vested interest in making sure things don’t change, so there’s no risk he will lose his inheritance. He could have staged Beatrice’s death as an accident and is getting worried someone is going to uncover the truth.”

“He does come across as sleazy,” said Helen. “What about the mean chauffeur?”

“I’m not sure why he would do it,” I said. “But Karl’s not been friendly to us so far. Maybe Beatrice did something to get on his bad side.”

“We should have him on the list,” said Helen. “I don’t like the vibe he gives off when he’s around us.”

“And what about Cecil?” I asked. “His incompetence as a doctor could have led to Beatrice’s death.”

“And then there’s Lady Galbraith,” said Helen.

“You think she could be involved?”

“Well, she can freeze your blood with a single stare,” said Helen. “I made the mistake of dropping some pins on the floor, and she had me on my hands and knees for half an hour double checking I hadn’t left any behind she might step on. Honestly, I thought she was going to bring out a whip at one point to punish me.”

“Perhaps Beatrice broke some unforgivable rule and Lady Galbraith decided to punish her,” I said. “Cecil mentioned she’s not one for forgiving mistakes easily.”

“That means we have Lord Galbraith, his wife, the sleazy cousin, Douglas, Karl, and Cecil as potential suspects in Beatrice’s murder.” Helen counted the suspects off on her fingers.

“That’s if there even was a murder,” I said.

The kitchen door leading out into the garden opened and shut several times, reverberating throughout the room as the strength of the bangs increased with each slam of the door.

“We hear you Beatrice.” I looked over at Helen. “Whatever’s going on here, we need to solve this. Beatrice isn’t going to rest until we do.”

Chapter 10

I hurried along the wide, sage green colored hallway, wanting to get to Lord Galbraith’s study in time for our daily round of letter writing and filing. I’d spent a restless night going through the suspects involved in Beatrice’s murder and had come up with no useful connections.

The buckle of my black shoe came loose, and as I bent down to adjust it, I heard two people murmuring to each other. I looked up, and spotted Lord Galbraith with an unfamiliar woman by his side. She looked to be in her early forties, with neat blonde hair and a trim figure, dressed in a fitted blue dress. Lord Galbraith had his hand on her elbow, and they were moving swiftly in my direction.

As I began to stand, they paused. The woman turned towards Lord Galbraith, slid one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, which quickly turned into a steamy embrace as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

I ducked back down, stunned by what I’d just witnessed, and after a second of hesitation, grabbed hold of Flipper, and we shot over to one of the thick drapes by the window and hid behind it. Lord Galbraith had a mistress! And he had her inside the family home! I could now understand why Lady Galbraith was always so frosty. If Lord Galbraith paraded other women about, she was well within her rights to be angry at the world.

I froze as the two of them stopped kissing and continued to walk in my direction. They passed the curtain I was hiding behind without comment, and after a few seconds, I peeked my head around the edge and saw them turn the corner. I let out a relieved sigh, stood up, and looked out of the window behind me. Zach stood outside, laughing at me, a quizzical look on his face.

He gestured for me to come outside, and after another few seconds of waiting to make sure I didn’t bump into the scandalous couple, I hurried through the kitchen with Flipper, out the back door, and around the side of the house to meet Zach.

“Did I catch you playing hide and seek?” he asked, scraping his dark windswept hair off his face.

“It was something of an impromptu game.” I looked around the garden, making sure no one else was in ear shot. “Can you keep a secret?”

Zach’s smile broadened. “I know plenty of secrets about this place. I am the soul of discretion.”

I’d have to take his word for that, given that I didn’t know him well. “Lord Galbraith has a mistress. I spotted them kissing in the corridor. That was why I was hiding behind the curtain with Flipper.”

Zach nodded his head slowly. “It’s not the greatest of surprises. I had heard a rumor he was seeing somebody other than his wife.”

“But he had her in the house,” I said. “What if Lady Galbraith spotted them together?”

Zach took hold of my arm and guided me away from the house. “Lady Galbraith isn’t the warmest of people to be around. Perhaps Sylvester is simply trying to find some comfort.”

I snorted. “He would be better to tend to the marriage he has than find other women to seek comfort from.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” said Zach. “But Lady Galbraith is a distant woman. It must be hard to love someone who is so removed from a marriage.”

“Maybe she's removed from the marriage because her husband is cheating on her,” I said. “Just because your marriage is going through a hard time doesn’t give you the right to go off and find somebody else.”

Zach sighed, and we walked together in silence for a few minutes. “You might be right,” he finally said.

“It explains why Lady Galbraith is so cold to all other women. She might see them as a threat to her marriage.”

“Marriages are complicated,” said Zach.

“The bit about forsaking all others seems straightforward enough to me.”

“Have you ever been married, Lorna?” asked Zach.

“No, but that’s got nothing to do with it,” I said. “A promise is a promise.”

He shook his head. “Marriage is more complicated than that.”

I looked over at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but his face turned stubbornly forward and his jaw clenched.

“What was Lady Galbraith like around Beatrice?” I asked, realising I wasn’t going to get any more words of wisdom about marriage from Zach. “Was she kind to her?”

“From what I've been told, they were civil enough,” said Zach. “Especially when Beatrice kept to her part of the house and didn’t get involved in the running of the estate.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, the possibility Lady Galbraith was involved in her sister-in-law’s death now quite real to me. “Did Beatrice know about her brother’s affair?”

“You’re asking the wrong man,” said Zach. “She may have discovered the two of them together, like you just did. Lord Galbraith isn’t all that discreet.”

“If Beatrice found out and disapproved of Lord Galbraith’s actions, do you think that would have given him reason to do her harm?”

Zach pulled up short and turned towards me. “Is that why you’re asking all these questions about Beatrice? Do you think someone killed her?”

I hadn’t meant to speak those thoughts out loud. “No, well, I’m not sure. I have this bad feeling something happened to Beatrice and that perhaps her death wasn’t an accident.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Zach. “Did you know Beatrice before she died?

“No, I knew nothing about her until I came here.”

“Has someone said something to you about her death?”

I gritted my teeth, not wanting to reveal my ghost seeing abilities to him. “No one has said anything to me, specifically.” And they hadn’t. Beatrice had done some wonderful ghostly mimes at me, but the ghosts never talked back.

“I did wonder why you were so interested in someone who has been dead for three years.” Zach’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not a ghost hunter, are you?”

I forced a laugh. “Nothing so exciting. I just am naturally curious. Call it a gut instinct if you like. There seems to be some unfinished business around here when it comes to Beatrice Galbraith, and I’d like to know what that is.”

Zach shot me a sideways glance. “So you’re not a ghost hunter, and I don’t figure you as an undercover cop or private eye.”

“How do you know I’m not a private eye?”

“You seem too nice.”

“Oh! Well, maybe you’ve just met your first nice private eye.” I smiled at him. “I promise you, I’m not doing anything shady. I’m only a personal assistant, amazing at filing and typing, but that’s about it.”

Zach grinned. “Okay, but if you turn out to be some undercover super spy, I’m going to look stupid.”

We walked along in silence for a few minutes. I hoped I hadn't said too much. Didn't want Zach to think I was too quirky for my own good.

Zach stooped to move a broken branch out of our way. “I sometimes get those weird gut feelings as well. You know what it’s like, you walk into a place and the vibe feels off, and you want to get out of there as quickly as possible. Is that what’s happened to you?”

I wanted to hug Zach. He had just given me an easy way out of this awkward situation. “Yes, something like that. It’s just nice to know someone as innocent as Beatrice didn’t come to any harm. I don’t know if that makes sense to you.”

“In a way it does,” said Zach. “It’s good that you care so much about a stranger.”

Flipper gave a quiet whine, and I noticed a flash of movement ahead of me and felt a chill run down my spine. Beatrice wasn’t quite the stranger Zach thought she was.

“I wanted you to see this. I know you like animals.” Zach pointed to his right, and I looked through the bushes towards some kennels.

“Are they Douglas’s hunting dogs?” I asked.

“He calls them that,” said Zach. “But I can’t remember the last time Douglas got on a horse and rode with them. The dogs in here aren’t good for hunting anymore; they’re not trained well enough.”

I pushed past the bushes and walked along a narrow gravel pathway. There were three kennels lined up next to each other, wire meshing from floor to ceiling, and a small back door in each kennel that must be the indoor sleeping quarters for the dogs. There were five dogs inside the kennels. A small black dog sat in one corner on her own, with the saddest looking eyes I’d ever seen, large pools of deep, black loneliness gazing at me.

“They don’t look happy.” I crouched down and pushed my fingers through the wire fence. Two of the dogs came over and sniffed my fingers, giving me a chance to look them over. They looked well fed, but there were no toys in the kennels and only a small, thin blanket on the floor. “Who looks after them?”

“Technically, they are Douglas’s animals, so he should take care of them,” said Zach. “But he forgets he owns them. I make sure they get fed every day and take them out when I can. But I’m busy with the garden at this time of year. I get the impression they’re lonely out here.”

I moved over to the kennel with the single black dog inside. “This one doesn’t look like a hunting dog.” She was some sort of crossbreed, maybe a mix between a Labrador and Collie. Her fur was jet black, and her black eyes looked out at me through scruffy fur that needed a good brush.

“That one’s not a hunting dog,” said Zach. “She used to belong to Beatrice. She would show her at the local village dog shows.”

I recalled the newspaper clippings of Beatrice with her dogs. “I’ve seen pictures of her and Beatrice together.”

“You have?” asked Zach. “I don’t remember seeing any of those around the house.”

I realised I’d given away the fact I’d been snooping in Lord Galbraith’s private files. “There must be a picture somewhere. I’ve definitely seen her with this dog. So, the poor thing has been here for three years?”

“The family kept her in the house for a while after Beatrice died, but apparently she pined and whimpered and Douglas complained about the noise, so she was sent to the kennels.”

“She’s a companion dog, not a hunting dog. She’s not meant for life inside a kennel. It’s so sad.” I leaned my head against the wire and beckoned the dog towards me.

“I’ve asked if I can get all the dogs rehomed,” said Zach. “It does seem cruel to keep them out here. They have each other, so they’re not too isolated, but they must get bored. They have no stimulation and not many visitors.”

“But Lord Galbraith won’t let you rehome them?”

“More like Douglas won’t,” growled Zach. “He’s their owner. He gets to say what happens to them. I did ask Lord Galbraith, but he said they were nothing to do with him, and he couldn’t help.”

My dislike of Douglas grew even more. “I’d release them without Douglas’s approval. How would he know what happened, since he never visits them?”

“I thought about that,” said Zach. “But they’re not meant for outdoor life. If I let them go, they’d most likely hang around the house.”

“It’s so wrong keeping them in these cages.” I encouraged the black dog over to me again, but she simply looked up at me before settling her head back on her paw. My heart twisted with sadness when I saw the expression on her face. She was most likely grieving the loss of Beatrice, but all she’d received was imprisonment in a tiny kennel. It must be so confusing for her to go from beloved pet to unwanted burden.

“You’re welcome to walk them,” said Zach. “I feel bad knowing they are out here on their own, and I just don’t have the time for them.”

“I’ll walk them,” I said. “Flipper is good with other dogs, and he’d enjoy the company. I’ll have to do it when I’m not working for Lord Galbraith, and make sure Lady Galbraith doesn’t spot me sneaking out and doing things I shouldn’t. She has an uncanny ability to turn up when I’m misbehaving.”

“I think she has a bad behavior detection radar built in,” said Zach with a grin.

I looked at the dogs once more, their eager faces turned up at me, all except the black dog, who seemed to have lost interest in the world. “Count me in. I’ll help.”

“Excellent.” Zach’s grin broadened, and his dimples popped.

“I’d better return to the house,” I said. “Hopefully Lord Galbraith has gotten rid of his mistress by now, and I can get on with my work.”

“Yes, and I have a dead bush to dig out this morning. There's never enough time to get everything done around here.” Zach gave me a brief salute as I walked away.

My thoughts were a tangled mess. I was worried about how involved Lord Galbraith was with his sister’s death. She seemed like a straight-laced lady. If she'd discovered his infidelity and challenged him, he may have panicked and decided to get rid of her.

But what if it was Lady Galbraith, and Beatrice had confronted her with news about the affair? Lady Galbraith may have bumped off Beatrice to prevent the family name being dragged through the mud.

Even the mistress could be a suspect. Perhaps she’d realised her sugar daddy might end their relationship and decided to get rid of Beatrice before she could release a scandal?

This was such a mess. I wished Beatrice could tell me what was going on. Whatever was happening, I may now be working for someone who was a killer.

Chapter 11

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed midnight as I crept down the stairs, dressed head to toe in black, Helen and Flipper behind me. We were also accompanied by the chilly, quivering presence of Beatrice. Even as a ghost, she didn’t like to break the rules.

After speaking to Zach in the garden that morning, I’d convinced Helen and Beatrice we needed to do some more investigation into who killed Beatrice. The suspects were arriving with such alarming regularity, even I’d begun to think her death was not an accident. Too many people had a motive to kill her.

We reached the door to Lord Galbraith’s study, and after listening for any noise on the other side of the door, I took a deep breath and pushed it open. The room was empty, chairs tucked neatly under the desk and the paperwork just as I had left it.

Once the door was closed and everyone was safely inside, I let out a sigh of relief.

“What are we looking for?” whispered Helen, her eyes almost obscured by the black cap she wore.

“Clues to Beatrice’s murder,” I said, not altogether certain what clues they might be. “Flipper, you stand guard by the door and let us know if anyone is coming.”

Flipper positioned himself in the appropriate position, his gaze on the door.

“Clues against which suspect?” Helen crept forward in the gloom, her arms outstretched.

“Against any of them. The more I discover about Beatrice’s life here, the more I think she’s right, and someone killed her. That someone could be her brother.” I’d told Helen about spotting the mystery woman being embraced by Lord Galbraith.

“Lord Galbraith is a cheater,” muttered Helen. “That is definitely scandal worthy. And it could be something to kill for.”

Beatrice quivered with what might have been indignation.

“I agree, and quite possibly grounds for murder. Let’s have a look in Lord Galbraith’s private filing cabinet and see if he’s hiding anything that sheds light on what happened to his sister.” I led Helen over to a filing cabinet I’d been instructed not to go into. Apparently, this housed Lord Galbraith’s personal correspondence, most likely to all of his mistresses. He had definitely gone down in my estimations.

After some jiggling with the feeble lock on the top of the filing cabinet, it pinged open, and I rifled through the top files for a few moments.

“Anything good?” asked Helen.

“Have a look at these.” I passed a file full of newspaper clippings to her.

Helen took the file and scanned through it, a small penlight skimming over the contents. “It’s mainly cuttings about the family. There’s some pictures of Lord Galbraith at charity events, that sort of thing.”

“I wondered if his mistress had something to do with Beatrice’s death,” I said. “Would you kill for your sugar daddy?”

Helen snorted a quiet laugh. “Depends how much he is worth and how generous he is.”

Beatrice blew cold air into my face. “From Beatrice’s reaction, she doesn’t think it was the mistress.”

“What’s the girlfriend’s name?” asked Helen.

“She didn’t tell me that. She was too busy playing tonsil tennis with Lord Galbraith to engage in conversation.”

“Gross,” muttered Helen.

“She looked well-dressed, a proper lady.”

“Can’t be much of a lady if she’s involved in an affair with a married man,” said Helen. “Hang on a second; there’s a batch of photographs at the back of this file.”

I hurried to Helen’s side and looked over her shoulder as she flipped through the photos. “That’s the woman!” I pointed to a blonde woman in a striking red dress. “The one Lord Galbraith was kissing.”

“He keeps pictures of his girlfriend in the house,” said Helen. “That’s bold of him. What if Lady Galbraith discovered them?”

“She’d skin him alive and hang his body outside the front of the manor as a warning to anybody else who might consider crossing her.”

Helen chuckled. “Yes, I wouldn’t put it past her.” She turned the photographs over to reveal writing on the back. “Tilly Chambers. That must be her name.”

“Let’s have a look online and see if we can find out anything about Miss Chambers.” I sat at Lord Galbraith’s desk and fired up the computer.

“We shouldn’t be much longer.” Helen glanced at the door. “Somebody might hear us.”

“Beatrice and Flipper will alert us if anybody is coming our way. But Lord and Lady Galbraith’s rooms are on the other side of the house, so they won’t hear us. And Cecil and Douglas are probably stinking drunk somewhere.”

It didn’t take long to do a few targeted searches before I’d found plenty more images of Tilly Chambers. “She’s the daughter of a diamond merchant and seems to have enough money in her own family not to warrant a sugar daddy.”

“She could be in the relationship for love.” Helen read over my shoulder.

“Lord Galbraith is old enough to be her father.” I gazed at the pictures of Tilly at a charity gala, looking radiant, with her blonde hair swept off her heart-shaped face and her lips painted a bright red.

“Older men and money can be attractive to some women,” said Helen. “Any scandal mentioned online that she's involved in?”

“She's squeaky clean,” I said. “Spends her time at charity events or opening philanthropic foundations. Almost too good to be true.”

“Could be a front. Maybe she’s an undercover spy, and all this glamor and charitable activity is her cover story.” Helen’s eyes sparkled in the light of the computer as she warmed up to this far-fetched idea. “Beatrice could have discovered this, and Tilly killed her to keep her true identity hidden.”

I shook my head. We were delving into the realms of impossibility. “It can’t be that complicated. Perhaps we should simply look where Beatrice keeps pointing, her brother.” Despite losing some respect for Lord Galbraith, I would never have picked him as the killer. He seemed like a kind man, maybe a little behind the times, but there was no malice to him. But maybe I was wrong.

Flipper and Beatrice were suddenly at my side, a matching look of concern on their faces.

“Somebody must be coming,” whispered Helen and ducked behind the desk. I followed her, dragging Flipper to my side and putting my fingers to my lips in the hope he wouldn’t start barking.

The study door cracked open, and Karl Jenkins’ head peered around the door. A second later, he entered and shut the door behind him. He walked over to Lord Galbraith’s drinks cabinet, pocketed several cigars from a box, and took a long slug of brandy straight from the bottle. He extracted a hip flask from one pocket and filled it up from another bottle of alcohol.

I exchanged a startled look with Helen and hoped Karl wouldn't hear my pounding heartbeat. He only had to glance to his left, and he’d see us crouching behind the desk.

Karl froze before pivoting around as the study door opened again. I held my breath, not able to see who was in the doorway.

“What are you doing in here?” It was Zach, his voice low and angry.

“Helping myself to what I’m entitled to,” said Karl, a sneer in his voice. “I bet you do the same when Sylvester’s back is turned.”

“I do not steal from my employer,” muttered Zach. “Best you leave. Wouldn’t want to have to inform the police of your theft.”

Karl grunted. “It’s only a few cigars and a bit of booze. The family can afford it.”

“Even so, I’m sure they’d be unhappy to know about this.” Zach opened the door wider, and after a second of hesitation, Karl gave another grunt and left the room.

Zach paused in the doorway, and then his slow, steady footsteps made their way towards the desk. I shrank into a small ball, hoping I would become invisible.

I looked up to see Zach staring down at me, Helen, and Flipper. “Late night booze and cigar run for you as well?”

“It’s not what you think,” I stammered out.

He shook his head, but there was a smile on his face. “I won’t say anything. I guess we all sleep walk at times.” He winked at me, walked away, and shut the door behind him.

I let out a breath. “That was close.”

“Close! We got caught.” Helen scrambled to her feet. “You don’t think Zach will tell Lord Galbraith about this?”

“No, I think he's on our side.” I gazed at the shut door and realised I trusted Zach. “Come on, we’d better not push our luck. Let’s get everything back in place and get out of here.”

Five minutes later, we were out of the office and heading to our rooms.

“From our discovery tonight, the mistress doesn’t seem a likely suspect,” whispered Helen.

“No, but we’ve got plenty more suspects to get through before we find our killer.”

Beatrice shot up the stairs, a pale mist chilled the air as she spun in front of us.

“Don’t worry, Beatrice. We’ll get justice for you,” I whispered to her. At least I hoped we would. So far, all we’d found were dead ends and more suspects.

Chapter 12

I yawned my way through breakfast with Helen, who for once, had been able to join me. We were tired from our late night explorations, and I also hadn't slept well, worrying what Zach might think about finding us sneaking around Lord Galbraith’s office.

I hadn’t managed to find Zach this morning, and wanted to make sure he hadn’t got the wrong impression of me. Well, he had caught me snooping, so I wasn’t sure what kind of impression he now had. It was most likely not a good one. And it was strange, but I did want Zach to think well of me. I liked him, and although I’d only known him a few days, I already trusted him.

Beatrice stood at the end of the kitchen table, her arms crossed over her bosom, her ghostly foot tapping up and down as she stared at me. Flipper had taken a liking to Beatrice and seemed to prefer to stand by her side. I pretended not to feel jealous. He most likely sensed her affinity with animals.

Beatrice rattled the table, and my spoon clattered down on the stone floor.

“You need to stop doing that,” I said to her, bending down and picking up my spoon. “We’re doing the best we can. From what we saw last night, we can rule out Lord Galbraith’s girlfriend.”

Beatrice shook her head at me and rolled her gaze to the ceiling.

“I know you still think it’s your brother,” I said. “And I have to admit, I’m starting to agree with you. That is, of course, if you were even murdered.”

My cynical comment earned me a blast of chilly air down my back. I shuddered and pulled my jacket closer around me. “Fine, I get it. You have some wrong to put right, and we are trying to make sure that happens.”

The kitchen door was pushed open and Lord Galbraith stood there. “Ah, Miss Shadow, hope I’m not disturbing your breakfast.”

“Not at all, Lord Galbraith.” I stood up swiftly. “I have just finished. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“No hurry,” he said. “In fact, I’m going out for the day. I’m lending your excellent abilities to my dear wife. She has a writing desk that requires some organisation. She would like you in her study in the next five minutes.”

No hurry! I swallowed the feeling of nervousness creeping up my throat. “I’d be happy to help her ladyship.”

“Jolly good,” said Lord Galbraith. “I won’t keep you. Enjoy your day.”

I stared at the closed kitchen door for a few seconds, before letting out a groan. “I can’t believe he’s feeding me to the dragon woman.”

“Stick to the safe topics.” Helen gave me a sympathetic pat on the back. “That’s what I do. The weather, the sewing that needs doing, and books.”

“Thanks for the advice. I’d better not hang around; if I’m late, it will be another black mark against my name.” Leaving the kitchen with Flipper by my side, I hurried along the hallway, self-consciously straightening my black knee length skirt and checking over my white blouse for any sign of creases or crumbs from breakfast.

I paused outside Lady Galbraith’s private room, looked down at Flipper, and took a deep breath. “Make sure you behave yourself,” I whispered to him. I knocked on the door and waited.

A few seconds later, I heard the thin, high voice of Lady Galbraith. “You may enter.”

I pushed open the door. “Good morning, Lady Galbraith. Lord Galbraith informed me you require my services today.” I stood in the doorway, trying not to feel like a child about to be reprimanded.

Lady Galbraith peered over the top of her gold rimmed reading glasses. “My writing desk requires your attention.” Her gaze shifted to Flipper. “I hope he won’t misbehave if he must be here.”

“Flipper is very well trained,” I said.

“Stop standing in the doorway; you are letting the draft in.” Lady Galbraith waved me towards her, almost as if she was gesturing to a crowd, giving them a regal wave, her wrist limp and her fingers soft.

I shut the door and ushered Flipper into one corner of the room where he would be out of the way. I looked over to the writing desk. “Is this where you want me to start?” It appeared to be an antique, a deep dark wood with several silver framed photographs on top.

“Begin with the bottom drawers,” said Lady Galbraith. “There are six files I store personal correspondence and family matters in. Some of the paperwork has become muddled, and I need it arranged in its correct order. There are also some solicitors’ letters and financial matters that require filing.”

I knelt down and opened the bottom drawer. Bundles of letters and paperwork sprung out and landed on the floor. I grabbed the papers and settled them on top of the writing desk. She hadn’t been kidding when she said there was some filing that needed doing. It looked like at least a year’s worth of letters hadn’t been dealt with.

“Begin with those letters,” said Lady Galbraith, her gaze returning to the book she held in one hand. “Most will no longer be relevant. I do find, if one ignores correspondence that isn’t urgent, the matter goes away of its own accord.”

I sat on the edge of a hard, wooden seat by the writing desk and sorted the letters into relevant piles. There were letters from solicitors, a private bank, some general circulars, and correspondence from what looked like personal friends of Lady Galbraith’s.

Despite Lady Galbraith’s apparent focus on her book, I got that prickling feeling on the back of my neck I always got when somebody was watching me. I hoped she wasn’t waiting for me to make a mistake. I was experienced in what I did, but sitting in the uptight atmosphere of the parlor, I felt my hands shake and my confidence wane.

I couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “It looks like a nice day outside.”

“Indeed,” said Lady Galbraith.

“Do you ever walk around the grounds?”

“That is what they are there for.”

“Perhaps you will take a walk today.” I felt panic rise in my chest. This wasn’t going so well.

“Perhaps.”

I realised I’d shifted away from the safe topic of the weather. “They are forecasting showers at the end of this week.”

“I do not trust the weather forecast,” said Lady Galbraith.

I rubbed my fingers against my forehead. Perhaps the weather wasn’t such a safe choice after all. The topic of sewing was definitely out. Maybe I should try books instead, or maybe I should keep my mouth shut and my head down. The quicker I did the work, the quicker I could leave.

I glanced over at Lady Galbraith, and my mouth fell open when I saw Flipper had his head resting on one of her thin knees. “Leave Lady Galbraith alone, Flipper. She doesn’t want to be disturbed by you.”

“You may leave him if you wish,” said Lady Galbraith. “He is not doing any harm. I am amazed by how blue his eyes are. I don’t think I’ve seen a dog with such blue eyes. He is not a particular breed, is he?”

I stuffed down my surprise as I turned fully in my seat. “No, he’s a bit of a mixture. But I wonder if he has some Collie in him. Catch him in the right light, and he looks like a wolf.”

A narrow smile slid across Lady Galbraith’s mouth. “Yes, I was thinking the same thing. He seems intelligent.”

“He is. I never go anywhere without him.”

“Ah, yes. Because of your condition.” Lady Galbraith looked at me with mild interest. “You don’t find your health problems interfere with your work?”

“Not for a second.” I wished I could be honest and say that having Flipper by my side had nothing to do with my health, although he was a good balm for the soul at times.

“That is good,” said Lady Galbraith. “I did have reservations about hiring you and Miss Holliday without giving you a formal interview. But my husband is not one for formalities, and he has not said a bad word against you.”

“I appreciate that.” I turned back towards the writing desk. “Would you like me to review these unopened letters and make sure there is nothing important in them?”

“Most of it can be thrown away or filed,” said Lady Galbraith with a sigh. “But perhaps you should open them, just to be on the safe side.”

I slid a silver letter opener through the envelopes and extracted the documents. Lady Galbraith was right; most of the information was no longer relevant. I hesitated as I read through a letter from a firm of solicitors, called Braithwaite, Dugdale, and Smyth. They made mention of an eviction notice at Galbraith Manor.

I shifted my attention to the next letter from them. This one had several sheets of paper inside. I started reading, horror shifting through me as I realised what I’d discovered. The document laid out details giving instructions to have Beatrice evicted. I checked through the letters again. They had been sent only to Lady Galbraith. Did that mean Lord Galbraith had no idea she was trying to get his sister removed from the family home? Perhaps Beatrice protested about the eviction and fought with Lady Galbraith. Could she have decided to get rid of her sister-in-law permanently?

“Have you found something of interest?” Lady Galbraith’s cool voice shot through my thoughts, and I dropped the papers.

“No, nothing of interest.” I tried to push the papers to one side, but Lady Galbraith moved surprisingly rapidly and plucked them from my hand.

“It is unfortunate you have seen these,” said Lady Galbraith.

“I didn’t mean to read it,” I said. “I was simply checking to make sure it wasn’t important. And now that Beatrice is dead, I guess it isn’t.”

Lady Galbraith looked at the papers one more time, before moving to the open fireplace, removing a match from the box on the mantelpiece, striking it, and setting light to the papers, dropping them into the empty hearth. Only when the pages had turned to charred embers did she turn and look at me. The expression in her eyes was not what I expected. They were clouded with regret.

Lady Galbraith shook her head gently and returned to her seat, slumping down as if the air had been extracted from her. “It is perhaps not one of my proudest moments, planning to have my sister-in-law removed from her family home.” Her fingers stroked through Flipper’s fur as he remained by her chair.

“Did you not get on with Beatrice?” I dared ask, knowing I was risking her wrath by doing so.

Lady Galbraith exhaled and shut her eyes for a few seconds. “There was nothing bad about my sister-in-law, but she was needy. I tolerated her because she had nowhere else to go. But she was a burden, needing to be taken care of and thought about. I wished she had simply gotten married and moved away. I’m sure Sylvester would have been happier with her not constantly around.”

“Is that why you decided to have her evicted?” I asked.

Lady Galbraith looked at me coldly, before her gaze dropped to Flipper’s head. “She always loved dogs. At one time, I believe she had six sleeping in her room. Over the years, they got old and sick, as animals tend to do. But she was always passionate about them. And although I complained about the noise and fur, I’d forgotten what it was like to have a dog in the household. I have missed it.”

“I saw one of Beatrice’s dogs in your kennels,” I said. “Perhaps you could let her back into the house?”

“No, you must be mistaken,” said Lady Galbraith. “The animals in the kennels belong to Douglas. They are hunting dogs, not meant to be inside.”

“I saw one that isn’t a hunting dog. She might be happier inside than stuck in a kennel on her own.”

“No, this house has no place for animals anymore,” said Lady Galbraith. “Dogs were Beatrice’s passion. Now she is gone, it doesn’t seem right to have them.”

I decided to try one last question and hoped it wouldn’t get me fired. “Is that why you wanted Beatrice to leave, because the dogs were annoying you?”

“It had nothing to do with her animals,” said Lady Galbraith. “It was time for Beatrice to make her own way in the world. Sometimes she wouldn’t leave the house for weeks, other than to walk her dogs. She never spoke to anybody. She was reclusive. It was not natural. Beatrice needed an incentive to stand on her own feet and see what the world had for her, before she became too old and set in her ways. Perhaps I went about it the wrong way, trying to force the issue. But as you saw from the date of those letters, I had them drawn up just before Beatrice died. She never knew what I had planned. It’s almost sad; perhaps, if I had evicted her, she might still be alive.”

“Why do you think that?” I asked. “Do you think staying in this house led to Beatrice’s death?”

“In a way it did,” said Lady Galbraith. “She may have found a zest and an energy to carry on, rather than slowly decay in this old place.”

“You were doing it to help Beatrice?”

“Nobody else would,” said Lady Galbraith. “Although I found her trying at times, I still wanted the poor woman to have a better life. Stuck inside here, only her dogs for company, and her brother treating her like a china doll, she deserved more. But now she will never have that.”

I was surprised by the sadness reverberating in Lady Galbraith’s voice. As twisted as it was, it did seem that, by throwing her sister out onto the street, she was trying to help her. “Shall I destroy the rest of these?” I pointed to the remaining solicitors’ letters.

“Yes, if you would be so kind,” said Lady Galbraith. “I would not like Sylvester discovering them.”

I nodded, before continuing to sort through the letters. Lady Galbraith’s motives were not pure, but she no longer seemed like a likely suspect in Beatrice’s death. By forcing her out of the house, she'd been trying to give her a better life. She wouldn't have killed Beatrice if she was attempting to help her.

That left Sylvester, Douglas, Cecil, or my outside punt of the chauffeur, Karl, as suspects. I just needed to figure out who did it, why and how, and maybe Beatrice could get some peace.

Chapter 13

“I’m amazed you got through the ice lady’s defences.” Helen leaned back in her seat at the kitchen table. We had finished our evening meal, and I’d updated Helen about my interesting conversation with Lady Galbraith.

“You were right; she’s not so cold,” I said. “I was surprised to find out she was planning to evict Beatrice, but when she explained why she’d wanted to do it, there was a twisted logic to it.”

“And she likes Flipper.” Helen fed him a small piece of potato from the side of her plate. “She must be nice if she likes animals.”

“Which leaves us with Douglas, Sylvester, and our own nasty tempered chauffeur, Karl, as suspects in Beatrice’s death.”

“And not forgetting the doctor,” said Helen. “Cecil must still be in the frame for being incompetent.”

“What do you think, Beatrice?” I looked over to where the ghost stood by the kitchen sink in her usual position, arms folded across her matronly bosom and a scowl on her face. “Do you think it was Karl?”

Beatrice shook her head.

“How about Mr Sleazebag, Douglas?” I asked.

She shook her head again.

“Or how about Cecil?” asked Helen, her gaze unfocused as she tried to spot Beatrice.

“She’s shaking her head,” I said to Helen. “Which leaves us with Sylvester. Do you really think he hurt you?” I asked Beatrice.

Before Beatrice could respond, the kitchen door opened. Zach stood there, a curious look on his face. “Who were you talking to?” His gaze was fixed on me.

I pointed at Helen, realising we must have been overheard chatting to a ghost. “Just Helen and Flipper.”

Zach walked into the kitchen and shut the door behind him. “It sounded as if you were having a conversation with Beatrice, which is impossible.”

“It's rude to eavesdrop,” I said.

Zach frowned. “I didn't mean to. But when I overheard part of your conversation I couldn't help myself.”

“It doesn’t have to be impossible,” said Helen. “Why couldn't we be talking to Beatrice?”

I shot her a glare. Nobody else knew about my ghost seeing abilities, and that was exactly how I wanted it to stay.

“Care to explain that comment?” Zach still had his attention fixed on me, his dark hair a tangled mess around his face.

“I was talking to Helen,” I stuttered. “There’s nobody else here I could be talking to.”

“You should tell him,” said Helen. “He’ll understand. You said it yourself; he’s sensitive to this kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing do you mean?” asked Zach.

The dishes in the sink rattled on their own, and the lights flicked on and off several times, followed by an icy cold gust of wind that shot around the kitchen, lifting my hair from my shoulders.

Zach’s eyes widened. “What just happened?”

“For goodness sake.” Helen slapped a hand on the wooden table top. “Beatrice Galbraith just happened. That’s who Lorna was talking to. She can see ghosts.”

All eyes riveted to me, Flipper’s and Beatrice’s included, as they awaited my response.

“Is this true?” asked Zach, after an uncomfortable few seconds of silence. “Do you think you can see ghosts?”

“There’s nothing to think about,” said Helen. “She can see ghosts. It’s a fact. And they can see her too. And they can see you, and me, and Flipper. In fact, Flipper is sensitive to them as well. He senses when they are about to materialise and acts as an early warning system, so no one gets too spooked.”

“Is this a joke?” Zach’s eyes narrowed.

“Explain the flickering lights, rattling dishes, and cold wind?” I said to him with a sigh. Zach was going to think I had lost my mind.

“A minor earthquake?” suggested Zach.

“In Wiltshire?” I asked. “Do we get many of those around here?”

“We might,” said Zach cautiously.

“So the earthquake caused the gust of wind?” I looked over at Beatrice and gestured for her to do something else.

Beatrice smiled before blinking out of sight. A second later, she appeared next to Zach and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

Zach jumped to one side, his hand on his face, where the icy cold lips of Beatrice had just been pressed.

I could see Beatrice’s cheeks glowing from where I sat. “Thank you, Beatrice.” I looked over at Zach. “So, explain that?”

His hand remained on his stubbled cheek, and he stroked the flesh with the tips of his fingers. “It felt like a piece of ice on my cheek.”

“It was a ghost kiss,” I said to him. “Beatrice kissed you.”

Helen grinned. “And everyone describes Beatrice as shy. She must like you, Zach.”

Zach dropped his hand to his side, forehead wrinkled. “I’m not sure what I just experienced, but whatever you’re doing, you need to be careful.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“This family is extremely rich, with connections everywhere. They wouldn’t think twice about crushing a staff member who causes them problems,” said Zach.

“We aren’t causing them problems,” I said. “Beatrice still being around in ghost form is something we are trying to help with. We didn’t cause her to materialise. She must have been here ever since she died, or more likely, as we’re discovering, she was killed.”

Zach scrubbed a hand across his face and slumped into the nearest seat by the table. “You’d better not be playing a game with the family. They are kind to people who play by their rules, but break them, and you will know about it. If this is some elaborate ruse to extort money out of them or get some fame, it won't work.”

“We're not after money or fame.” Helen glared at Zach. “We're helping someone put right a wrong.”

I studied Zach in silence. “You don’t seem surprised I’ve just said Beatrice was killed.”

Zach rolled his shoulders and twisted his neck from side to side. “It’s not my place to pry, and I wasn’t here when she died, so all I have to go on are hearsay and rumors. But something doesn’t add up about her death.”

“Do you think she was killed?”

“It’s possible. She didn’t have any enemies that I know of, though,” said Zach.

“Beatrice thinks Lord Galbraith killed her,” I said. “What do you think about that theory?”

Zach shook his head. “I know Sylvester as well as any employee can know their boss. I don’t see him doing it. He liked his sister, and when he gets the opportunity to talk about her, he speaks of Beatrice fondly. There is never any sign of guilt in his words.”

“What about Karl?” asked Helen. “We saw him stealing from Lord Galbraith. Shows he's not got a good character. And he was rude to us when we first met him.”

“That’s something you need to explain to me,” said Zach. “What were you doing in Lord Galbraith’s study that night?”

“Looking for clues as to who may have killed Beatrice,” I said. “What are your thoughts on Karl? He doesn’t seem like a nice guy. And if he’s stealing, maybe he’d be willing to go a few steps further and do Beatrice in. She could have caught him stealing from her, and he had to make sure she was silenced before she went to the police.”

“I’m not convinced by that theory,” said Zach. “He is mean, but a killer? His job here is too easy. Most of the time, Karl hangs around the garage, tinkering with his cars and sleeping. And as you saw, he’s onto quite a cushy number, being able to steal whatever he likes from Sylvester’s study and get away with it. This place keeps him on the straight and narrow.”

“If you call stealing and being a mean thug straight and narrow,” muttered Helen.

“So if you don’t think it was Karl, and we’ve also ruled out Lady Galbraith and the mistress, that leaves us with Douglas.”

“Also Cecil,” said Helen. “We need to do some more investigating into those two, see if they had a grudge against Beatrice.”

“Well, we know Douglas doesn’t want anything looked into,” I said. “He was less than charming to me when he realised I’d been asking questions about Beatrice. Told me to keep my nose out or there’d be trouble.”

“He did?” Zach’s face dropped into a frown. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, nothing like that,” I said. “And even though you don't believe me about Beatrice’s ghost, she saved the day and got rid of him for me.”

Zach blinked a few times, his gaze shifting around the kitchen. “That was kind of her.”

“Ghosts can be helpful,” I said. “The ones I meet simply need some help or closure before they move on to wherever it is they go.”

“Let’s assume for a second, I do believe you see ghosts,” said Zach. “And let’s assume the ghost of Beatrice Galbraith is in this kitchen with us, right now.”

“Your assumptions would be correct,” I said.

Zach shot me a caustic look. “What’s to say she isn’t here because this is the only home she knows? Maybe ghosts stay where they lived when they were alive. You may not even have a case to solve.”

Before I could answer, Beatrice flashed in front of me, her image bright. She gestured out into the hallway, a look of alarm on her face. “Beatrice seems unhappy,” I said.

The sound of a door slamming along the hallway made me jump, and when I strained to hear, the sound of furniture being moved around could be detected.

Beatrice rattled the dishes in the sink so hard an edge chipped off one of them.

“Something bad is happening.” I pushed away from the table and hurried out of the kitchen, the others behind me. “Let’s see what’s going on.”

Chapter 14

As we dashed along the hallway, the noises became clearer, and I recognised Lord Galbraith’s voice.

I paused at the bottom of the stairs. “It’s coming from up there.” I pointed over our heads.

“That might be Beatrice’s old room,” said Zach. “She had the room next to the stairs. She liked to be close to the exit in case one of her dogs needed to go out at night. That way, she could get in and out without disturbing anybody.”

There was a loud thud from over our heads. “Let’s see what they’re up to.” I led the way up the stairs and turned right, stopping at the open door of one of the bedrooms. Inside, Lord Galbraith stood with his hands folded in front of him as Douglas stalked about the room opening and closing cabinet drawers and looking into wardrobes.

“I’m telling you, this is the ideal spot,” said Douglas. “Get rid of this musty old furniture and bring in some modern pieces, and it will be ideal for me.” His gaze shifted to the door and a frown appeared on his face.

Lord Galbraith turned towards the door and smiled when he saw us. “I hope we weren’t making too much noise for you. Douglas insisted on inspecting this room.”

“It’s going to be my new study.” Douglas continued his investigation of one of the cabinets. “You get the best light in here, and the room hasn’t been used for years.”

“This used to be Beatrice’s room,” said Lord Galbraith. “I haven’t wanted to do anything with it since she died. But Douglas could be right; it is time to move on. I can’t even remember the last time I opened the door. It is wasted space.”

“Perhaps we can help,” I offered. “I could clear out the cabinets and wardrobes and make it easier for them to be moved. I can even arrange for a removal company to come and take away the pieces you no longer need.”

Douglas squinted at me for a few seconds before shrugging his shoulders. “That would be good. The sooner we get this old junk out, the better. I like clean lines and everything to be white.”

I noticed Lord Galbraith shudder at those words. Douglas’s idea of furnishings didn’t meet my standards, either. I preferred chintzy little pieces and up cycled antiques.

“That would be very kind of you, my dear,” said Lord Galbraith. “So long as it doesn’t interfere with the work I need completed, you are most welcome to assist.”

“We can make a start this evening,” I said to him. “I have finished my work with Lady Galbraith.”

“Excellent idea,” said Douglas. “Empty everything out of the wardrobes and cupboards. If anything looks valuable, put it to one side, and we will see if we can make a bit of cash.”

“Now, Douglas.” Lord Galbraith’s smile faded. “These are my sister’s things. I do not want them sold for profit.”

“I was only thinking of you.” Douglas sniffed. “I wouldn’t keep the money. Perhaps the old girl would like her things auctioned off.”

“If you did that, you might consider giving the money to one of the animal charities Beatrice supported,” I said, suppressing a smile as Douglas glared at me.

“Waste of money,” said Douglas. “She was always bleating on about some lost cause that needed help.”

“I think that is a fine idea,” said Lord Galbraith. “Let us leave the arrangements in Miss Shadow’s capable hands for now.” He ushered Douglas out of the room. “Do come to see me if you have any questions, my dear.”

“Will do,” I said.

We all watched Lord Galbraith and Douglas walk down the staircase.

“Beatrice’s old room,” whispered Helen. “This could be just what we need. I bet there are all sorts of clues in here.”

Zach peered into the room. “I suspect all you’ll find is a lot of dust bunnies and a few spiders.”

“I’m not worried about spiders,” said Helen. “Flipper always gobbles them up. He loves the fat bodied ones.”

I repressed a shudder. Flipper did enjoy hunting and eating spiders. I should be grateful, it meant there was less chance of them running across me in bed at night.

“It won’t do any harm to take a look, though.” Helen turned to me. “What do you think?”

“Yes, let’s take a look around.” I looked at Zach. “Are you joining us?”

“I’ve got some work outside to finish,” said Zach. “But let me know if you find anything useful. And if you need a hand moving any of the heavy stuff, give me a shout, and I’ll come and help.”

“Okay, thanks.” I felt a twinge of disappointment that he couldn’t spend any more time with me.

Zach took hold of my arm gently. “And do be careful. I know you believe what you’re seeing is true, and I understand you want to help Beatrice. Don’t do it at the expense of your own safety. And just remember what I said; this family is a powerful one. If they think you are meddling for the wrong reasons, you are going to find yourself in trouble.”

I nodded, watching his lean frame descend the stairs and turn the corner.

“I think you have a fan,” said Helen.

“I don’t know what you mean.” My gaze was still on Zach.

“You have the hots for the gardener.”

I grinned at Helen. “Whatever makes you think that?”

She laughed. “Stop leering at your new crush. Let’s get searching for clues.” Helen strode into the room with Flipper by her side and pulled open a drawer on one of the cabinets.

Zach’s words of warning played through my mind. I was being paranoid. There was nothing wrong with helping Beatrice. And if she had been killed, then she deserved justice. And I would be careful. Besides, what would the Galbraiths do? Tie me up in the cellar and leave me to rot?

A shudder ran through me, before I walked into the bedroom and shut the door.

***

Three hours later, I was covered in dust and old cobwebs. Flipper had eaten eight spiders and was dozing on the carpet by the door.

“If this search has shown us anything,” said Helen, “it’s that Beatrice loved her dogs.”

I glanced over at the piles of photograph albums and framed images, all with dogs on them. There wasn’t a family member in any of her shots. “I don’t hold that against her. She was devoted to her dogs and seems to have loved them more than anything else. I can understand why.” I gazed affectionately at Flipper, who gave a loud snort in his sleep.

“But no secret letters or journals to give us any clues about who wanted to kill her.” Helen joined me on the floor and rested her back against the wall, drawing her knees up to her chest.

“Nothing incriminating at all,” I said. “She really did live an uncomplicated life. I quite envy her; nothing to stress about, simply immersing herself in something she enjoyed and forgetting about everything else.”

“She must have gotten involved in something else, though,” said Helen. “Otherwise she’d still be here. You don’t kill a person for no reason.”

I nodded and rested my head back on the wall. It was getting late, and I was tired. The rest of the search would have to take place another day. “We’d better come back tomorrow. From the gleam in Douglas’s beady eyes, he wants this room as soon as possible. I bet if we don't clear these things out quickly he'll throw everything into a skip. If he does that, we might lose a valuable piece of information.”

“We can come back tomorrow evening,” said Helen. “Surely he won’t be so keen to get in here. I bet he’s already drunk out of his head and won’t surface until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Let’s hope so.” I crawled over on my hands and knees to Flipper, sitting next to him and rubbing his belly. He gave a grumble of appreciation and rolled over, exposing more of the soft grey and white fur on his undercarriage.

I was about to stand up, when something glinted on the floor. I scuttled over, still on my hands and knees, and peered underneath the bed. It was an old, antique style bed, four poster design, with the base raised off the floor, leaving room to store things underneath.

“I hope you haven’t found another spider,” said Helen. “I think they’ve even beaten Flipper tonight.”

“No, not a spider,” I said. “Although there is a lot of dust under here. There’s something tucked at the back of the bed.” I lay flat on my stomach and reached my hand underneath the bed. My fingers brushed against something cold and smooth. I inched forward as far as I could, face pressed against the edge of the bed, and stretched out my hand.

“What have you got?” Helen moved to my side and peered under the bed.

“Not sure.” My fingers latched around the object, and I drew it towards me. It was an empty bottle of brandy.

“Beatrice was a drinker?” asked Helen. “Think she kept the bottle under her bed and had a little late night party of her own?”

I turned the empty bottle over a couple of times. It was an expensive brandy. “I’d always imagined Beatrice as more of a sherry type of lady or even a teetotaller. Didn’t Cecil mention she barely drank?”

“Maybe she did have a secret after all,” said Helen. “Perhaps she liked to drink a little too much and had to keep it hidden. Could that be the reason she died? She went outside drunk one night and collapsed?”

The sash window on the opposite wall screeched open and banged down. Flipper jumped from the floor and let out a rumbling growl.

“I think Beatrice wants to tell you her opinion on that idea,” I said to Helen. I stood up and brushed the dust from my skirt. “Beatrice, is this yours?” I held the empty bottle aloft.

The window opened and shut again on its own several times.

“You don’t have to perform your ghost dramatics,” I said. “Why don’t you appear and talk to us, or mime to us? You know what I mean. Let me know what's going on.”

Beatrice flashed into my line of sight and dashed the bottle from my hand so hard it bent one of my fingers back.

“You don’t have to be like that.” I gripped my injured finger. “We are only trying to get to the bottom of what happened to you.”

Beatrice’s face distorted into a silent scream, and she sped around the room, her form becoming indistinct as she moved faster, the air currents in the room swirling.

“Whatever she’s doing,” said Helen, her lips turning blue, “I don’t like it. I’m feeling dizzy and a bit sick.”

“She’s angry,” I said. “I think we’ve found out something she didn’t want us to know. You could be right. Beatrice may have been a secret drinker. That could explain why her memories are so hazy and she thinks her brother had something to do with her death. If she was drunk when she died, it would make her last memories seem confusing to her.”

“Beatrice, we don’t mean to cause you any problems. We’re trying to help.” Helen staggered over to the bed and gripped hold of the edge.

Beatrice slowed a little. She looked at the bottle on the floor, and then spun to the ceiling before bolting to the ground. Her gaze locked onto mine, and she lunged towards me.

I opened my mouth to tell her to stop, but she shot through me too fast, my blood freezing and my breath pooling out in icy blasts.

The overhead lights went out, Flipper yelped in alarm, and I heard Helen hit the floor.

Chapter 15

It took Beatrice less than a second to pass through me, leaving me with a banging headache and the sensation I’d been dipped naked into a deep freeze.

Stumbling towards the light switch on the wall, my numb fingers pressed it on and off several times. “Beatrice, stop punishing us. We haven’t done anything wrong.”

I tried the light switch again, and this time, it worked. I looked over to the bed and saw Helen on her knees, head in hands, Flipper nudging her with his nose. I rushed to her side. “Are you hurt?”

“No, nothing's broken.” Helen groaned. “But whatever Beatrice was doing, it felt as if the floor was shifting underneath me. I lost my balance and then the lights blinked off.”

“Looks like we pushed Beatrice too far.” I helped Helen to her feet and gave Flipper a reassuring pat. “I don’t think she liked the alcoholic theory.”

“We touched a nerve.” Helen rubbed her stomach. “She’s powerful.”

“Yes, but using that amount of energy will have taken a lot out of her,” I said. “I’ll be surprised if we see Beatrice for a few days. She’ll need to rest and refresh her ghostly batteries. But at least that means she can’t do us any more harm.” I glared around the room, trying to get a glimpse of our pesky spirit.

“We were only trying to help,” said Helen.

“I have a good mind not to continue investigating Beatrice’s death. If she’s going to cause us such trouble, why should we help her?”

Helen sighed. “Because she’s an unhappy ghost, who may have been murdered, and the killer has so far escaped justice.”

“Well, yes, I suppose there is that,” I grudgingly agreed. “Beatrice, if you can hear me, this is your only warning. If you do that again, we will leave this place, then the mystery of your death will never be resolved.” I wasn’t sure she could hear me, but there was no harm in setting out the ground rules.

“You wouldn’t do that, would you?” whispered Helen. “I thought we needed these jobs?”

“We do,” I muttered. “But not at the expense of being frozen half to death by an agitated spirit. She flew right through me. I hate it when they do that.”

“I could do with a lie down.” Helen’s lips still looked blue.

“Good idea.” My teeth chattered. “Let’s call it a night. We can continue our investigation tomorrow when we’re not feeling sick to our stomach and frozen.”

***

After spending the night wrapped in several thick duvets, I felt warm enough to emerge from my cocoon and face a new day.

A hot shower, followed by a warming breakfast of porridge, and I felt almost human. No one would guess I got blasted by a ghost last night.

Helen was up early again, so I’d missed her over breakfast, and despite calling Beatrice several times, there was no sign of her. She was most likely sulking.

Hurrying out of the kitchen, I bumped into Cecil, who was making his way towards the front door, looking dapper in an olive green suit and pink shirt.

“Good morning, Miss Shadow,” he said.

“Hello, Cecil,” I replied. “Where are you off to?”

“Patients to see, medicine to dispense, the usual fun and games of a rural doctor.” He smiled at me, but it faded from his face. “I hear you’ve been helping to clear Beatrice’s belongings from the house.”

“Yes, and you might be able to help me with a question about that,” I said. “I know you can’t break patient confidentiality, but I wondered if Beatrice enjoyed a drink or two when she was alive?”

Cecil looked up sharply. “Whatever makes you think that?”

“I found an empty bottle of brandy underneath her bed. I wondered if she needed it to help get to sleep. Maybe she was stressed about something. Were you aware of any problems she had?”

Cecil ran his hands over the thinning hair on his head. “Not to my knowledge. She rarely drank. And she never spoke of any stress or depression that prevented her from sleeping. How curious you found that under her bed.”

“It made me wonder if Beatrice had problems she was trying to keep hidden. It may explain her strange behavior on the night of her death, ending up in the garden alone.”

“It may. Why the interest in Beatrice?” asked Cecil.

“Clearing out her room has made me more interested in her,” I said. “From what I can gather, she was a nice lady, and I would hate to think she was struggling in her last few months and not able to find help.”

“That is kind of you to think of Beatrice,” said Cecil. “In my opinion, not enough people did think of her. And I believe she was lonely. But at least, you are giving her some assistance now, clearing out her room and helping Lord Galbraith move on as well. I know he misses his sister.”

“It was Douglas who insisted the room be cleared.” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure he wasn’t within earshot. “He seemed adamant the room should be his.”

Cecil frowned and pulled at his bottom lip. “Yes, I can imagine Douglas would do just that.”

“I thought the two of you were friends?” I noticed the coolness in Cecil’s voice.

“We are drinking acquaintances,” said Cecil. “But I always seem to come off worst whenever we spend time together. He enjoys making himself seem like the bigger man. I don’t know if that makes any sense to you. Must be something to do with us men and all the testosterone we have.” He patted his rotund stomach as if that was where he stored his manly testosterone.

“Perhaps you could find a nicer drinking acquaintance,” I suggested.

“It’s not such a bad idea. The more I think about it, the more Douglas is a bad lot. I’ve seen him step over a lot of people to get what he wants. And as you’ve witnessed with Beatrice’s room, he has a way of persuading people to do things they don’t want to do. I shall be avoiding him in the future, and perhaps, you would be wise to do so as well.”

“I don’t have any intention of getting to know Douglas any better than I already do,” I said. “But I will take your advice about keeping clear of him.”

“That’s a good idea,” said Cecil.

“I’d best get to work. I know Lord Galbraith will have many letters that need typing.” As I bid him goodbye and hurried to Lord Galbraith’s study, I mulled over Cecil’s comments. I had been harsh with Beatrice last night. She behaved badly, but if she'd been waiting for justice for three years, I could understand why she was so testy. I'd give her another chance. And, most importantly, if that bottle of brandy wasn't hers, then who left it underneath her bed?

***

Another day of administrative tasks passed by, and I found myself in the kitchen, poking around the cupboards, waiting for the catering company to deliver dinner, and seeing what else I might convince Helen to rustle up to go with our food.

There was a knock on the back door, and Zach entered, his hands full of wildflowers. “I hoped you’d be here. I brought you these.”

“They’re lovely.” I took hold of the flowers, still sun warmed from the pleasant summer day, and inhaled their sweet scent. I spotted some scabious and delicately fringed daisies in the mix.

“We have a surplus in the garden, and I hate to see them go to waste,” said Zach. “And I wanted to apologise if I acted strangely when you revealed your... ability to me.”

“You mean when Helen blurted out the fact I’m able to see ghosts?”

Zach ran his hands through his hair a few times. “Exactly that. It’s the first time anyone’s told me they can see the dead.”

I took a moment to fill a vase with water and placed the flowers inside. I wasn’t sure how much to tell Zach, and even if I did tell him more about what I could do, I wasn’t certain he would believe me. I didn’t love having this ability, but I’d had it for so long, it was a part of me.

“You don’t have to reveal any more to me.” Zach remained in the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I can tell you my strange ability if you like. It might even things up.”

I placed the vase full of flowers on the kitchen table and gestured to the seats, before sitting down. “You have a strange ability?”

Zach sat opposite me. “I can roll my tongue up.”

“You can do what?”

Zach grinned. “I can roll it into a ball. It’s quite freaky. Do you want me to demonstrate?”

I choked out a laugh. “No, I don’t want to see that. And although it’s an interesting talent to have, it’s a bit different from my ability to see ghosts.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” said Zach. He studied me in silence for a few seconds. “Is it something you’ve always been able to do?”

“Not my whole life,” I said. “I had an accident when I was nine years old. I was swimming, got out of my depth, and panicked. The next thing I remember, I was lying on my side, having water thumped out of me.”

“And you’ve been able to see ghosts ever since then?”

“That’s right; whatever happened to me, it now means I see ghosts.” I looked over at him, trying to discern how seriously he was taking me. “When I was younger, I used to have what seemed like seizures just before a ghost appeared. My parents thought I had epilepsy, and for years, I tried different drugs and treatments, but nothing improved things. When a ghost was on its way, I started to seize up and lose control of my limbs. It was terrifying. I never got used to it.”

“But it wasn’t epilepsy?”

“No, I figured it out before anybody else,” I said. “But try telling your family that a ghost materialising makes your limbs shake. Not so simple. Things changed for the better when I got Flipper.” As I spoke his name, he climbed to his feet and laid his head in my lap. “We found each other by accident. He’d been abandoned by the roadside as a puppy. I trundled by on my bike, spotted him on his own, and fell in love.”

“Flipper cured you of your seizures?”

“Not exactly, and they aren’t real seizures. Animals are sensitive to human emotions, and as soon as I got him, I noticed his behavior change when a ghost was around.”

“What does he do?”

“He is my guardian angel,” I said. “The first time a ghost appeared and Flipper was there, I felt shaky. Then Flipper started whining and pawing the ground. He was focused on the arrival of the ghost. Somehow, him being there, controlled my reaction. I’m still a bit shaky the first time a new ghost pops up, but that’s it. No collapsing or drama. Providing I have Flipper nearby, I feel safe.”

“That’s incredible,” said Zach. “How does it work? Does he channel away some of the ghost’s energy, so it doesn’t impact on you?”

“I have no idea. It could be a placebo thing, of course; simply having him by my side means I feel more in control. I don’t really know. If I could explain it to you any clearer, I would. But having him changed my life. He’s my miracle dog.”

“So Flipper is your own personal ghost detector.” Zach looked down at Flipper. “That’s a neat skill to have.”

“It is. I wouldn’t be here without him,” I said. “He's my best friend and my saviour, all wrapped up in a delicious furry bundle.” Flipper leaned into my hands and whined gently.

“I always did like dogs,” said Zach.

“I would like to know why I can see ghosts. Maybe it’s because I was so close to death; it opened a new channel in my brain. Or maybe it simply sent me crazy, and I don’t see ghosts at all. This could be a figment of my imagination, and you are talking to a crazy lady who thinks her dog communicates with the dead.”

Zach was silent for a few seconds, inspecting the mud under his fingernails. “I believe you. I’ve never seen anything myself, but I do get these strange feelings.”

“Describe strange.”

“I walk into a room, sometimes, and it feels as if somebody has just left it. And on several occasions, I’ve walked past the oak tree where Beatrice died and been convinced someone was watching me. When I look around, nobody’s there. Does that mean I could be sensitive to ghosts?”

“I don’t know how it works,” I said. “I wish I did. Then I could switch it off and not have to speak to restless spirits. They always want something from me.”

“That makes sense,” said Zach. “If they were happy and content, they wouldn’t remain here. Perhaps they see you as their guardian angel, just as Flipper is yours.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said. “But they always appear at the most inconvenient times. And a lot of the work I do takes me to old houses, and with those houses tends to come history and death. I’ve met a number of ghosts when I’ve been working, but Beatrice is one of the most persistent.” I briefly recounted to him what happened in her room the previous evening.

“I didn’t realise ghosts could have that much power,” said Zach. “Do you think she meant to do serious harm?”

“No, and I believe I deeply offended her. She’s not spoken to me all day, and I’ve had no sense of her being around. It would be good to resolve Beatrice’s death and make sure she can be at peace.”

“If there is a mystery to be solved, I get the impression you won’t rest until you’ve done so. You seem determined to get what you want when you’ve set your mind to it.”

I couldn’t decide if that was a compliment or not. “You’re welcome to help with the investigation. Helen and I have limited time to search for motives and suspects. And if we get too nosy, the family will get suspicious, and you’ve already advised me that isn’t a good thing.”

“You’re right; it isn’t. But if I can be of any help, I’m happy to get involved.” Zach reached across the table and took hold of my hand.

The kitchen door banged open, and Helen barged in. “What a day! Lady Galbraith has only just released me from her services. I don’t know how one woman can have so many outfits. And you should have seen this disgusting red stain on one of the tablecloths. Apparently, it’s port, but so far, nothing will get it out. But I won’t be beaten.” She stopped and stared at my hand still clasped in Zach’s.

I disentangled our fingers, feeling as if I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t. “Does that mean you’re too tired to make dinner? The catering company hasn’t brought any food in for us.”

“They don’t get here until late on a Wednesday,” said Zach. “Don’t worry; there will be food for you.”

“I still have enough energy to make us a simple meal.” Helen's eyes had a wicked glint in them. “Zach, will you be joining us?”

“Although I’d love to, I have some work to do in the garden.” Zach stood and walked over to the back door. “Perhaps I can catch you later for a cup of tea?”

“That would be lovely.” Helen gave Zach a smile. “I’m sure Lorna will be free. I will definitely be busy, though.”

I smiled at Zach and shook my head at Helen’s blatant matchmaking effort. “I might be about later.”

“Well, then I shall drop by.” Zach left the kitchen, and I looked at Helen, waiting for the questions to begin.

Helen sat in Zach’s vacated seat. “You were holding hands! Did he hold your hand first or did you grab his?”

“You make me sound so desperate.”

“Answer the question.”

“He held my hand first.” I felt my cheeks warm.

“He loves you!”

“No, I don’t think it’s that,” I said. “He’s interested in the ghost thing.”

“He loves you because you see ghosts?”

“Stop with the whole love business. He’s interested in them; that’s all.”

“Interested in you, more like.” Helen’s eyes widened. “Are you two secretly dating and you haven’t told me?”

“No! It was more of a friendly handholding than anything else,” I said. “We were talking about my ghost abilities. He seems to believe me.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” asked Helen. “He’s had the evidence right in front of him that ghosts exist. Beatrice even kissed him. What additional proof does he need?”

“A full-bodied apparition, maybe some ghost ectoplasm,” I said. “If I didn’t see them, I’d be just as sceptical such things exist.”

“But I can’t see them, and I believe you,” said Helen. “I know ghosts are real.”

“That’s different. We’ve played with ghosts since we were children. To you, they’re normal.”

“I wouldn’t say normal, but I’m used to having them around,” said Helen. “So, Zach is a believer in spirits. That makes him perfect for you.”

I shook my head. “He reckons he’s experienced some strange things. Sensed he's being watched, that sort of thing.”

“I knew he was sensitive to ghosts,” said Helen with a triumphant smile. “Do you like him?”

“He's a nice guy.” I wasn’t willing to admit that just seeing Zach made my pulse quicken. “But getting involved with another member of staff is risky. It won’t be approved of by Lady Galbraith.”

“You’re not going to marry the guy.” Helen grinned at me. “Or perhaps you are. Perhaps this is the start of a real relationship.”

“All my relationships are real,” I said.

“You know what I mean,” said Helen. “He could be the one. You could have found someone who believes in your crazy ability to see ghosts and supports it. And he’s used to working in large estates. He understands your ability, he understands the work you do, and I know he likes Flipper. He’s the ideal man.”

“It sounds as if you want to date him more than I do,” I said.

“As lovely as Zach is, you know my tastes run to the upper-class of our great nation. One day, I will find myself a true British gentleman, who will whisk me off my feet, take me aboard his mega yacht, and sail me around the world, lavishing me with gifts and treating me like a princess.”

“You mean to say you’re going to leave me for some posh bloke with a boat? Who’s going to be around to cook my meals and sew my hemlines?”

“Don’t be silly,” said Helen. “I’d take you with us. You, Flipper, and Zach would be welcome on the mega yacht. There will be at least fifty bedrooms on board. We could lose each other for days; not that I’d ever want to lose you.”

“And would you still cook my dinners?”

“We’d have our own personal chef who would see to all of your culinary needs,” said Helen.

“Well, until that day arrives, how about you start making something tasty for us now?”

“You’re such a slave driver,” said Helen. “You’d make a good stand-in for Lady Galbraith.”

I did not like that comparison. “I would not.”

A door slammed, and the sound of raised voices could be heard drifting along the hallway.

“Sounds like an argument.” Helen looked towards the kitchen door.

“It's two male voices,” I said, my hunger vanishing as I strained to hear what was being said.

“Might be trouble.” Helen stood up and looked at me. “We should make sure everything is okay.”

“My thoughts exactly. Let’s go find out what's happening.”

Chapter 16

I scurried along the hallway, Helen and Flipper beside me, as we attempted to locate where the raised voices were coming from. We didn’t have far to walk, before stopping outside Lord Galbraith’s study.

“You’re not getting any more from me until you can prove yourself.”

“That’s Lord Galbraith,” I whispered to Helen.

Footsteps stamped towards the door, and we both stepped back.

“Quick, get behind these curtains in case they come out and find us listening,” said Helen. We dashed to the floor length heavy brocaded curtains in the window opposite the study, and I shuffled Flipper between my legs so he could fit in.

“But I have this brilliant investment idea.”

“And that’s Douglas,” whispered Helen. “Sounds like they’re arguing about money.”

I pressed my fingers to my lips and focused on the argument.

“I have invested significant sums in three previous business ideas of yours,” said Lord Galbraith. “Each one an unmitigated failure. There has to be an end to your unfounded ambitions. You need to think through what you do. There will be no more money until you can do so.”

“But this one is going to return an enormous investment. We will win with this venture,” said Douglas.

“And that is your problem; businesses aren’t about winning. They are about making shrewd, long-term, sensible decisions. You cannot expect to invest a million pounds and get a return of two million the next day. Business does not work that way.”

“This is a new chain of casinos,” said Douglas, his tone petulant. “A guaranteed money maker. The house always wins.”

“I can guarantee you this; if you are the house, you will lose. I do not have an infinite supply of money. You have your inheritance from Beatrice. You should use it to secure your future.”

“I only received a small inheritance from Beatrice. She divided the rest between immediate family members,” said Douglas. “You received more than me. I know you’re good for more money.”

“It’s not about whether I am good for the money or not,” said Lord Galbraith. “The fact is, I no longer trust your decisions when it comes to investments. Get yourself educated, write a business plan, and convince me you are a safe pair of hands. Until you do that, there will be no more money.”

“You were happy to give money to that pointless sister of yours,” said Douglas. “Plus you’ll have more available now. She’s been gone several years. You must have some spare money in an account that was intended for her.”

“What I choose to do with my own money is my decision and nobody else’s.” Lord Galbraith’s tone was icy. “Simply because my poor sister is no longer with us, does not mean you are entitled to anything else. You live with us rent free, you eat our food, you drink far too much of my expensive wine, and you are constantly coming to me for handouts. This has to stop.”

“You’re probably spending all of your money on that bit of skirt you’ve got hanging around you,” said Douglas.

Helen and I both gasped at the same time. It would seem we were not the only ones who knew of Lord Galbraith’s indiscretion with Tilly.

“I do not know what you’re talking about,” said Lord Galbraith, his voice so low I could barely hear him.

“I’ve seen you together,” said Douglas. “As have other people. You’re not as clever as you think you are. You wouldn’t like news of your extramarital relationship getting back to Penelope. I imagine she wouldn’t be too pleased to know her loving husband is cheating on her. Could lead to a messy and expensive divorce. Then you wouldn’t have any money to refuse me.”

“Be careful, Douglas,” growled Lord Galbraith.

“I’m family,” said Douglas, his tone wheedling. “You should be helping me.”

“I am trying to help you, by making sure you know how to look after yourself, and not constantly expecting others to support you.”

“You will give me more money,” said Douglas. “Or I’ll go right to Penelope and tell her everything.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” whispered Helen. “If Lady Galbraith finds out about her husband’s affair and does divorce him, Douglas would be out on his ear.”

The sound of somebody clearing their throat in the hallway made me freeze. Flipper whined and shuffled closer to me.

“You can both come out from behind the curtains.” It was Lady Galbraith.

I wished I could become invisible. She was going to be furious. I stepped out from behind the curtain, Flipper glued to my leg. Helen followed a second later, her gaze on the carpet.

“We were just—”

Lady Galbraith cut me off. “Listening to a private family discussion.”

I didn’t know what to say. We’d been caught red-handed.

“We are sorry, Lady Galbraith,” said Helen. “We heard arguing and came to investigate. We wanted to make sure no one was being hurt.”

“Then decided to stay and listen,” said Lady Galbraith.

I exchanged a sorrowful look with Helen, and we hung our heads.

Lady Galbraith crossed her arms over her birdlike chest. “Did you find the conversation to your amusement?”

“Oh, no. Not for a second,” I said. “And we didn’t mean to pry into family business.”

Lady Galbraith took several deep breaths. “What you have overheard is private and must not leave this house, ever.”

“We won’t breathe a word,” I said.

“By rights, I should have you both sacked for what you have done,” said Lady Galbraith. “But Helen is an effective seamstress, and you have previously shown me you can be discreet, Miss Shadow. Therefore, if neither of you say anything about what you have heard, we can let the matter drop. Do you understand me?”

We both nodded.

“You are dismissed,” said Lady Galbraith. “And remember, not a word to anybody.”

I walked away as swiftly as possible with Helen and Flipper, desperate to break into a run and get away from Lady Galbraith and her chilling glare.

As we headed up the stairs, Helen clutched hold of my hand. “That was close. I thought she was going to get rid of us.”

“She still might,” I said. “But it goes to show she already knew about Lord Galbraith having a mistress.”

“Which proves what?” asked Helen, as we hurried into my bedroom and I shut the door behind us.

“Which proves that, even if Beatrice informed Lady Galbraith of her husband’s infidelity, it would have been meaningless. If she already knew about it, then she has no motive to kill Beatrice.”

“I’ve just had a horrible thought.” Helen's hands went to her mouth. “What if Beatrice revealed the affair to Lady Galbraith and she killed her to keep the secret safe. Now she knows another family member is aware of the affair. That means Douglas’s life could be at risk.”

“You think Lady Galbraith is the killer?” I had ruled her off the suspect list.

“Why not? I felt like I was going to freeze to death on the spot when she was telling us off. And it’s a good motive. She wants this high-class charade of a marriage to be seen as perfect. If the affair came out, she may have no choice but to divorce Lord Galbraith, and she’d have to leave this place. She does seem fond of the manor house. And I bet she wouldn’t be able to afford a place like this on her own.”

“It seems a bit extreme to kill for a house,” I said.

“I don’t know. I might be willing to do people serious harm if it meant I could live in a fabulous house, with an overflowing wardrobe and servants on hand,” said Helen.

“No you wouldn’t,” I said. “But you think Lady Galbraith might try to kill Douglas to keep the affair hushed up?”

“Even though Douglas is a creep, we need to keep an eye on him. If Lady Galbraith is the killer, then he will be her next target. I don’t enjoy saving creeps, but I also wouldn’t want his death on my conscience.”

I closed my eyes, feeling a headache begin. It looked like we were now not only ghost hunters, but also guardians of the creeps in this messed up household.

Chapter 17

“Are we all set?” I looked at Zach and Helen as we stood in the kitchen.

After our encounter with Lady Galbraith and the unsettling discovery she may be the killer and now after Douglas, we had roped Zach into helping keep an eye on him and make sure nothing untoward happened.

He had been as incredulous as I was that Lady Galbraith could be Beatrice’s killer, but after discussing it with him, he’d agreed to assist. Helen and Zach took the first two shifts during the day, and now it was my turn.

“Nothing to report from my surveillance of Douglas,” said Helen. “I was able to watch his room all morning as I looked after Lady Galbraith. He didn’t stir from his bed.”

“I saw him leave the house at about three o’clock,” said Zach. “I made sure nobody followed him. And Lady Galbraith has been inside all day. So she couldn’t have been tailing him with any nefarious deeds in mind.”

“She could hire someone to get rid of him,” said Helen. “She has the money to hire a hitman to take him out.”

“That would look a little suspicious,” I said. “I see Lady Galbraith being more of a poisoner than a hirer of assassins.”

“The upper-class do enjoy a good poisoning,” said Zach.

“It’s a possibility, though,” said Helen. “Maybe we should tail Douglas when he leaves the house as well.”

“We don’t have enough people to do that,” I said. “And we can’t abandon our posts on the off chance Douglas gets snuffed out down some dark alley. He will have to look after himself when he leaves the house, but we’ll do what we can for him here. Talking of which, I don’t want to leave him on his own for long. Don't want Lady Galbraith to get her killer claws into him.”

“Be careful.” Zach gave my arm a squeeze. “And don’t let Lady Galbraith spot you watching. From what you’ve told me, if she does, you’ll be out of a job.”

He didn’t need to remind me of that. I’d encountered Lady Galbraith twice today, and on each occasion, she’d shot me the evilest of stares. I needed to lay low until she’d forgotten what I had done.

I left the kitchen and strode along the corridor with Flipper. The family had eaten dinner, and Lady Galbraith retired to her reading room. Lord Galbraith had already left the house for the evening, leaving Douglas on his own with a bottle of wine in the games room.

I walked past the games room a couple of times, doing a circuit of the downstairs of the house, but it felt as if I was leaving him on his own for too long. Someone could sneak in and do away with him in the time it took me to walk the ground floor. I decided to stay close by, and after grabbing some half-hemmed skirts from my wardrobe, I sat in the corridor in a hard-backed velvet chair, pretending to sew.

Flipper lay on the floor next to me, his head on his paws, gaze intent on the door of the games room, as if he realised where we should be focusing our attention.

An hour passed, and I was stiff, bored, and in need of the bathroom.

I was wondering if I dared leave Douglas alone for a few minutes, when the games room door was flung open and Douglas stumbled out. For a second, I thought he’d been injured, but then I realised he was just rotten drunk.

As he stabilised himself, his bleary eyes fixed on me and a slimy smile spread across his face. “Are you waiting for me?”

“No, the light is better in the corridor. I was doing some sewing.”

“Isn’t that the work of your little friend?” He walked towards me, ignoring the growl of warning coming from Flipper. “She can darn your socks for you.”

“She could, but Helen is busy with her ladyship. I don’t like to disturb her.”

“Of course you don’t.” Douglas stood in the light I was using to pretend to sew. “Are you sure you weren’t waiting for me? I know you ladies like to play at being demure and discreet. I don’t go for any of that nonsense, myself. Say what you want and go get it. That’s my motto, and it always works for me.”

It hadn’t worked when he’d been trying to extract more money from Lord Galbraith. “No, I wasn’t waiting for you.”

“I was going to get some more booze. Why don’t you join me in the games room for an evening tipple of something fruity?”

Although the thought of being alone in a room with Douglas made me feel queasy, it would give me the perfect opportunity to watch over him and make sure he was safe. “I could have one drink.”

“Excellent. Get on in there, girl, and I’ll bring some drinks through.” He staggered away along the hallway, leaning against one wall to keep upright.

After a second of hesitation, I gathered up my sewing and walked into the room. The wallpaper was a deep red, with gold velvet embellishments. There was a sturdy looking, dark wooden desk, a full-sized pool table, several games consoles tucked to one side by a vast flat screen TV, and a miniature golf course laid around the edge of the room. The carpet was dark green, most likely to mimic grass.

“Here we are.” Douglas entered the room a few moments later and kicked the door shut behind him. “I selected a fruity bottle of claret. It’s an excellent year. Are you a wine connoisseur?”

“Not really.” I didn’t even like red wine. Cocktails were more my sort of thing, although I never turned down a glass of champagne.

“This bottle cost almost one thousand pounds,” said Douglas. “So you’d better appreciate it.” He yanked the cork out of the bottle and poured two generous glasses.

Flipper growled when Douglas approached me with a glass.

“He needs to go.” Douglas placed the glass on the drinks trolley and glared at Flipper.

“He’s only looking out for me,” I said. “Flipper doesn’t know you.”

“Which is how I want it to remain.” Douglas opened the door. “He can’t stay. I have allergies. His fur will give me a rash.”

“I thought you had dogs of your own?” I also had the feeling I was about to break out in hives. I was allergic to sleazy, drunk morons.

“Hunting animals, not pets. You won't find me cuddling up to any of the mutts in the kennels.”

From the stubborn set of Douglas's jaw, I wasn't going to be able to keep Flipper with me. “Flipper, wait in the hallway. I won’t be long.”

Flipper bared his teeth at Douglas.

“He has to go,” said Douglas. “If he bites me, I’ll shoot him.”

He could try. I’d happily turn the gun on Douglas if he ever hurt Flipper. I pointed to the open door. “Go on, boy.”

Flipper slunk out of the room, his tail between his legs.

“At last, it’s just the two of us.” Douglas shut the door and returned to the glasses of wine on the trolley. He topped up the glasses, despite neither of us having drunk anything, and handed me a glass. “Bottoms up.”

I took a small sip, and even though I wasn’t a fan of red wine, I could taste the smooth undertones of the Claret.

Douglas took a large drink from his glass, his gaze never leaving me. “What do you think?”

“It’s a good wine.” I set my glass on the table by the side of the chair.

“No hard feelings about our chat the other night?”

“The chat where you told me to keep my nose out of family business?”

“That’s the one,” said Douglas. “No point in rocking the boat over such a trivial matter.”

I longed to argue the point with him. Beatrice’s murder was not trivial. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Douglas grinned at me. “And how are you finding life at Galbraith Manor? Do you think you will be staying?”

“I hope so,” I said. “I like working for Lord Galbraith.”

“And what about her Ladyship? When she’s out of earshot, I call her Old Frosty Drawers.” He chortled to himself and took another gulp of wine.

“I find her pleasant enough,” I said. “But I’ve not had much to do with Lady Galbraith.”

“Yes, your little friend got the short straw when it came to this job. If Old Frosty Drawers wasn’t around, I’d be able to have a lot more fun with Sylvester. But she keeps him on a tight leash.”

“Lord Galbraith doesn’t seem unhappy with his marriage.”

Douglas finished his wine and refilled his glass, gesturing at me with the bottle. “Drink up, girl. If you’re intending to stay, I need a real drinking companion.”

I took another sip of wine. “What plans do you have for Beatrice’s old room?”

“Ah, yes, that room,” said Douglas. “This may surprise you, but in my younger years, I used to be something of an artist. Loved nothing more than getting my palate and a blank easel and spending the day in the garden painting a watercolour or two. Nothing more satisfying.”

I was surprised to hear him admit that. I couldn’t imagine Douglas in paint splattered overalls as the muse overtook him and he created a masterpiece. “Beatrice’s room is going to be an art studio?”

“That’s the idea. The room gets excellent light first thing in the morning. And the huge windows mean I’ll have almost uninterrupted views of the surrounding countryside.” Douglas had an almost wistful look on his face. “I believe I could be content there. You never know, might even sell a few paintings. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“I guess it would,” I said. “I’ve made a start on removing Beatrice’s items from the room. It should be yours in a few days’ time.”

“That’s fine. In fact, I’m wondering if my new found artistic desires might attract a certain kind of lady.” Douglas squinted at me. “Do you find artists attractive?”

And the slimy Douglas was back. “If they’re nice people, I would.”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of these independent types, who doesn’t hold any value in money and material things.” Douglas laughed and downed half the glass of wine in his hand. “Can’t stand that kind of woman. Always bleating on about wanting independence and equal rights. But I can bet you this; show her a large diamond ring and a closet full of furs and she would fall to her knees and weep with joy. All that feminist rubbish forgotten.”

I bit my tongue, wanting so much to tell Douglas where to stick his diamond ring and his vile fur coats. “Are you looking for a bohemian girlfriend? Someone who can inspire your artistic streak?”

Douglas’s smile looked shark like. “I might be. Are you artistic?”

“I can’t paint to save my life. I used to get my dad to do my art homework for me when I was a student. He even got some of his pictures on the art wall because they were so good. But as for me, completely talentless when it comes to producing a work of art.”

Douglas’s gaze ran over me. “Yes, you do strike me as a more conventional type. So, what are your ambitions? I expect you’re hoping some of this high-class living will rub off on you. Planning on bagging yourself a millionaire husband?”

“Absolutely not,” I said. “I’m happy as I am.”

“That old story. You’re telling me you are happy to go to bed at night on your own with only your teddy bear for company? That you don’t miss having someone to share all your little secrets with and plan your future together?”

I realised he was being sarcastic, but sometimes, I did miss those things. “What about you? Are you looking to bag yourself a Miss Right?”

“Too many to choose from; that’s my problem,” said Douglas.

“I don’t exactly see you beating them off with a stick.”

His sleazy smile slipped from his face. “I have girlfriends of a sort.”

He most likely paid for those girlfriends. “You should bring some of them by the house. It’s bound to impress them.”

“And risk the scrutiny of Sylvester and Penelope? Not likely. I like to keep the women I’m involved with away from the family. Otherwise, I get too many gold diggers. And while I have some money to throw away on totty, I like to keep some for myself and my own entertainment.”

He was a disgusting example of a chauvinist pig. “You’ll need to settle down at some point, though. Maybe produce the potential heir and future owner of Galbraith Manor.”

“There’s plenty of lead in my pencil to achieve that goal,” said Douglas. “You’re welcome to find that out for yourself if you’d care to.”

I almost choked on the wine I’d just taken a sip of. “How thoughtful of you.”

“I’m a busy man, with many engagements, but I can always make a little space for a new lady in my life.” He winked at me. “If ever you fancy a bit of fun, you know where to find me.”

An unexpected yawn overtook me, and I blinked my eyes a few times.

“If you’re feeling tired, my dear, my room is upstairs.”

I shook my head. “You’ve lived here a while, haven’t you?”

“On and off for about five years,” said Douglas. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that, well, you’ll think I’m being silly.” I made an attempt at fluttering my eyelashes.

“Most women are,” said Douglas. “Go on, ask your silly question.”

My fingers tightened around the glass of wine, urging me to fling it in his face. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

He stared at me for a few seconds. “Ghosts? Things that go bump in the night? No, I don’t believe in ghosts. They are the ridiculous invention of an overactive imagination. When people die, they don’t return as ghosts. I suppose you’re going to tell me you have seen things in this house. That the creaking floorboards and rattling window frames aren’t caused by expanding and contracting wood, but spectral fingers trying to open doors and strangle people in their sleep in the dead of night.”

“I didn’t say I’d seen or heard anything,” I said. “But I get a feeling there is a presence in the house.”

“I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous,” said Douglas. “Ghosts do not exist.”

“So you’ve never caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye, and when you turn to look, there’s nothing there? And you’ve never felt the presence of somebody you know is dead nearby? You’ve never wondered if Beatrice is still in the house?” I dabbed at the sweat that had formed on my top lip, an unexpected heat running through me.

“No, all of that is your feeble female mind making you hysterical.” Douglas walked over and topped up my glass of wine. “Are you sure you are feeling well?”

“I’m fine.” I wasn’t. My stomach churned and my armpits prickled with sweat.

“I don’t think you are. Your cheeks look flushed. And you’ve been talking gibberish for several minutes.”

I did feel overly warm, but wine always had that effect on me. I also felt tired and a little woozy. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Drink up then,” said Douglas.

I raised the glass to my lips and paused. Why was he so keen on me drinking so much? I looked down into the crimson liquid. Had he drugged my glass of wine? Was that why I felt odd? I set the glass on the table, my fingers trembling.

“Perhaps you’d like to lie down?” asked Douglas. “The sofa is incredibly comfortable in here. And we won’t be disturbed. There is hardly anybody in the house. We can make as much noise as we like.”

“I don’t want to lie down.” I stood up, my knees wobbling underneath me. He had drugged me. That rotten, sleazy idiot!

“Let me help you.” Douglas grabbed hold of my elbow and attempted to propel me towards the sofa.

I yanked my arm out of his grip and staggered towards the door. “I don’t need your help, and I definitely won’t be lying down with you.”

“Wait, wait,” said Douglas. “You misunderstand me. I’m trying to help.”

“I’m leaving.” I gripped hold of the handle, hearing Flipper scratching on the other side of the door, aware something was wrong with me. Before I could turn the handle, Douglas’s hands grabbed my shoulders, and he spun me around.

“You will leave when I tell you to. You work for this family. You must obey me.” He lowered his wet looking, slug like lips towards mine.

My fingers latched onto his shoulders, as my knee jumped up and made contact with his groin.

For a second, the only thing moving on Douglas were his eyes as they bulged out of his head. He staggered backwards, hands on his groin. “How dare you.”

“I’ll do it again if you don’t leave me alone.”

The lights in the room flickered on and off several times, and a cold breeze spun around me. I let out a sigh of relief. Beatrice’s timing couldn’t have been better.

“You just assaulted me.” Douglas bent over at the waist, taking deep breaths. “I’ll have you fired for this.”

“Do your worst.” I addressed the words to Beatrice. Douglas deserved it.

A faint image of Beatrice appeared before me, a smile on her face. She turned and launched herself at Douglas.

He shrieked and covered his head with his hands. “Whatever you’re doing, stop it at once.”

“As you can see, I’m doing nothing to you,” I said. “Perhaps the house is haunted after all.”

Douglas swatted his hands over his head as if trying to bat away a swarm of bees. “You’re doing something. I do not believe in ghosts.”

“I’m sure your rational mind will figure out what’s going on.” I caught a glimpse of Beatrice as she grabbed hold of the bottle of wine and upended it over Douglas’s head.

He let out another startled yelp and ran across the other side of the room. “This is madness. This place can't be haunted.”

“That’s what people will say when you tell the police and Lord Galbraith you were attacked by a ghost.” I caught hold of the door handle, still feeling woozy, and pulled it open. “Have fun, Beatrice.”

I slammed the door behind me before Douglas had a chance to respond, and heard the lock snap shut. I grinned. Beatrice meant business.

Flipper jumped up at me, trying to get into my arms, despite being too big for me to carry. “I’m fine; nobody was hurt.” I heard a thud from behind the locked door, followed by a shriek of terror. “Well, maybe Douglas will have a sore head in the morning.”

After Flipper had given me a thorough once over and decided I wasn’t harmed, I wobbled back to my room, Flipper by my side, helping to keep me steady.

After Douglas's behavior tonight, if he was at risk of being bumped off by Lady Galbraith, she was welcome to him. I wasn’t wasting my time protecting such a horror for a second longer.

Chapter 18

My eyes blinked open, and I shivered, a dull headache pounding behind my eyes. Despite being under my duvet, I was freezing cold, as if I’d spent the night in an ice house. As my eyes focused, I realised Beatrice was perched on the side of the bed, her ghostly hands wrapped around one of mine. That would explain why I was so cold.

Flipper looked up at me from the side of the bed and gave me a doggy smile. He was definitely friends with Beatrice. He hadn’t alerted me to her presence, and he normally whines or barks to let me know when we have ghostly company.

I eased my hand from out of her freezing grip and rubbed some feeling back into my fingers. “Thanks for last night, Beatrice. That was a close call. Douglas isn’t a nice man.”

Beatrice nodded her head.

“I hope he’s still breathing after what you did to him.” Even though he was a sleaze, in the light of day, maybe wanting him dead was far-fetched.

Beatrice shrugged and patted the side of her head a few times.

“Yes, I imagine he is feeling a little bit delicate this morning. It might make him think twice before trying to drug a woman and have his wicked way with her.”

Beatrice’s eyes widened and she blinked several times.

“And yes, I was as surprised as you when I realised what he’d done to me. But I got out safely, thanks to you.” I smiled fondly at Beatrice. “Does his actions make you think he was the person who harmed you? Or are you still convinced your brother ended your life?”

Beatrice gently wrapped her ghostly fingers around her own neck.

“Fine, you don’t need to start that. I understand. You still think Lord Galbraith killed you. I just can’t work out why you believe that.”

Beatrice nodded again.

“Are we friends, now? I know I offended you by suggesting the bottle of alcohol we found in your room was yours. But I was just suggesting a theory. I don't think you were an alcoholic, but I found it under your bed and put the clues together. Looks like I didn’t come up with the right theory, though.”

Beatrice wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and I shuddered deeply as her cold seeped through me again. “I’m glad we can be friends. I don’t like to think of you alone and worrying. We will get to the bottom of what happened to you. I promise.”

Beatrice gave me a sad smile, and blinked out of sight.

I spent a couple of minutes under the duvet, trying to warm up, before sliding out, taking a hot shower, and dressing in my warmest suit. Being cuddled by a ghost for any length of time always left me freezing cold.

I dashed down to the kitchen with Flipper and found Helen and Zach already eating.

“How did your shift with Douglas go last night?” Helen sliced up strawberries and covered her granola with them.

“It was interesting.” I helped myself to some toast and raspberry jam before sitting at the kitchen table. “He discovered me watching him and invited me into the games room.”

“You didn’t accept his invitation, did you?” asked Zach.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time. Much easier to keep an eye on him. But then things got complicated.”

“Did he try anything funny with you?” Zach’s voice was a low grumble. “He has a terrible reputation with women.”

“He certainly had dark designs for me. And he spiked the wine he gave me.”

Helen dropped her spoon, splattering milk across the table. “Lorna, that’s terrible!”

Zach shoved his chair back and stood up. “I’m having words with Douglas. He may be Lord Galbraith’s cousin, but that doesn’t give him the right to mistreat people.”

“Sit down.” I gestured to Zach, and after a few seconds of angry sounding huffing, he slowly returned to his seat. “As you can see, I’m quite well. I figured out what he’d done before I was too woozy. And I had someone come to my rescue.”

“Did Flipper bite him?” Helen looked at Flipper and patted his head. “He’s such a good boy.”

“No, Beatrice came back. She was magnificent. She surged into the room like some kind of banshee. The lights were flickering, the air was like ice, and she attacked Douglas. He was terrified. She poured wine over his head and then set to work on him.” I grinned at the startled expressions on Helen’s and Zach’s faces. “I don’t advocate violence, but this was a thing of beauty. I’d have stayed and watched, but thought it best to leave.”

“Beatrice to the rescue.” Helen retrieved her spoon. “We knew she had some spark in her.”

“That’s... incredible,” said Zach. “Beatrice is something of a superwoman.”

“She is that,” I said. “And best of all, we’re friends again. She still thinks Lord Galbraith killed her, but at least we’re talking. Well, as much as I can talk with the dead.”

“You don't actually speak to them?” asked Zach.

“No, they never speak, we get by on gestures and looks. It can get frustrating.”

“I bet.” Zach scratched his chin.

“So it looks like Douglas is now in the frame,” said Helen. “There’s not a good thing about him. He drugged you, he drinks too much, he’s greedy, and he tried to blackmail Lord Galbraith. The only thing missing from that list is murder, which he most likely committed by bumping off Beatrice.”

“It does seem likely,” I said. “He could have drugged her, too. He must have access to some pills. If Beatrice was in his way, he could have put them in her cocoa and dumped her outside to freeze to death. Or maybe the drugs he gave her were too much for her system and her heart gave out, making it look like heart failure.”

“Cecil could have given him the drugs,” said Helen. “They are drinking buddies.”

“I don’t think they are friends anymore,” I said. “The last time I bumped into Cecil, he’d decided to give up on Douglas. Said he wasn’t a good influence.”

“Even more evidence that Douglas is a bad sort and harmed Beatrice,” said Helen.

“It’s an interesting theory,” said Zach. “But Beatrice died in the summer time. Even if Douglas did drug her, there would have been no chance of her freezing to death outside. The overdose theory could fit, though.”

“Drugs would have been spotted during Beatrice's autopsy,” said Helen.

“Let’s see what Beatrice thinks.” I placed my half-eaten toast down. “Beatrice, are you there?”

A few seconds later, her faint image appeared at the end of the table, and she gave me a questioning look.

“We were discussing the likelihood of Douglas being involved in your death,” I said. “And before you protest, I know you think Lord Galbraith killed you. But Douglas is a nasty piece of work. Is there any way he could have slipped you drugs without you realising? Did you have a nightly routine Douglas knew about?”

Beatrice frowned, but seemed to consider my question, her hands clenching and unclenching several times.

“Can you remember Douglas giving you something to drink just before you died?” asked Helen, her gaze tracking around the room.

Beatrice shook her head. She pointed at Zach.

“She’s looking at you,” I said to Zach. “You don’t think Zach was involved?”

Beatrice shook her head quickly. She pointed at Zach again.

“Maybe she’s trying to tell you a man did it,” said Zach. “Is that right?” He glanced over at me. “I can’t believe I’m talking to a ghost.”

“Go on,” I said. “She’s listening to you.”

“Is that why you're pointing at me, Beatrice?” asked Zach. “Do you know for sure it was a man who harmed you?”

Beatrice nodded and glanced shyly at Zach.

I smiled. I could understand the effect he had on her. Even in his grubby gardening overalls, he still made me feel overly warm and wishing I'd spent more time on my hair and makeup.

“We had put Lady Galbraith back in the frame for Beatrice’s murder. But it seems like she needs to come out again if it was definitely a man who killed Beatrice. We need to focus on Lord Galbraith, Douglas, and Cecil as the remaining suspects,” I said.

“And let’s not waste our time protecting Douglas,” said Zach. “If he is in danger, then I think justice should be served.”

“I must admit, I felt the same way last night,” I said. “Being drugged is not a fun experience. But he doesn’t deserve to die. Douglas does deserve to go to prison, though, especially if he harmed Beatrice.”

“If that had happened to me, I’d have clubbed him over the head with the bottle of wine. And I'd have insisted Beatrice finish him off for me,” said Helen.

I saw Beatrice laugh. “For all I know, that could be exactly what she did do. I’ve not seen any sign of Douglas this morning, and I hope I won’t be bothered by him ever again.”

“Goodness, I’ve just seen the time.” Helen jumped up from her seat. “Lady Galbraith is going to skin me alive if I’m late. Catch up with you both later.”

Helen hurried out of the kitchen, and I picked up my toast, munching on it as I discreetly studied Zach.

“If you want me to teach Douglas a lesson, I’d be happy to,” said Zach quietly. “He shouldn’t have treated you like that. He’s so used to getting his own way, and when someone says no to him, he sees it as a challenge. You were lucky to get out unharmed.”

I finished my toast, fed a crust to Flipper, and brushed crumbs from my fingers. “I do know that. I put myself at risk. And I’m grateful for Beatrice’s help. I won’t do it again.”

Zach let out a sigh and a slow smile spread across his face. “I have a feeling you will, all in the name of the greater good, of course. You did what you did last night to help Beatrice. A ghost, someone nobody else can see. You’re a hero in my eyes.”

I felt myself blush. “I’m no hero. I’m a bit of an idiot if the truth be known.”

Zach reached a hand across the table and gently brushed my fingers with his own. “You’re not an idiot. But try to be more careful.”

My blush increased. “I’ll do my best. I’d better get to work. Lord Galbraith will be wondering where I am.”

***

I struggled to concentrate for the rest of the morning, listening to Lord Galbraith’s droning tone as he dictated several long letters about parcels of land and planning permission. I couldn’t stop thinking about Beatrice and who killed her. I could even be sitting in the room with her killer.

I was glad for the break at lunchtime and was heading to the kitchen for a snack when I spotted Cecil in the garden.

I dashed out the kitchen door and around the side of the house, catching Cecil as he did a circuit of the fountain. Maybe he would answer the question I had about where Douglas got his sleep inducing pills from.

“It’s a lovely fountain,” I said to him.

“Yes, I find the sound of trickling water soothing,” said Cecil.

I tried to look as bashful as possible. “I wonder if you might be able to assist me with a delicate matter.”

“Do you have a health problem?” The concern on Cecil’s face was clear. “I would be happy to see you at the surgery.”

“No, I’m quite well, except for these terrible headaches and inability to sleep at night.”

“Insomnia,” said Cecil. “It’s surprisingly common these days. I think it comes from so many hours spent online, using computer screens and smart phones. It makes the eyes tired and stresses the brain without us realising. Our ancestors didn’t have access to such technology. We haven’t evolved to catch up with it all.”

“Quite right,” I said. “Would you give me something to take the edge off? Lord Galbraith will fire me if I make too many mistakes on his letters.”

“What are you suggesting?” Cecil glanced around the garden and fidgeted with his jacket collar.

“Well, I was speaking with Douglas the other night, and he said you sometimes give him pills.”

“He is mistaken.” Cecil blinked rapidly. “Douglas isn’t a patient of mine.”

“He didn’t say he was a patient. He said you gave him some pills to help him sleep at night. I wondered if you might give me the same thing. I only need a few until I get back into a regular sleep pattern.”

“That’s not ethical, giving out pills to anyone who asks.” Cecil fussed with the cuffs of his white shirt. “You might have an allergic reaction to the medication. I could get into trouble.”

“If I do, I won’t say where I got them from,” I said. “But I’m not allergic to anything, so it won’t be a problem.”

“I’d better have a word with Douglas about this. Don’t want him spreading lies about me.” Cecil pushed his round glasses up his nose. “I’m a good doctor; he is trying to sully my reputation by the sounds of it.”

“I don’t think he is. Douglas was trying to help me. I told him about the trouble I was having sleeping, and he thought you might assist.”

“Seems to me like all the wine he’s been drinking has addled his brain. I never gave him any pills. He most likely purchased his sleeping pills in the chemist and forgot where he got them from.”

“So you can’t help me with my little problem?” I batted my eyelashes at Cecil.

A gentle blush spread across Cecil's cheeks. “I wish I could. I do hate to think of you in discomfort, but it would be better if you see your own doctor. Or if you want to, you can register as one of my patients and make an appointment to see me.”

I believed what Cecil was saying. He’d sounded surprised when I’d asked for some pills. Maybe he hadn’t given Douglas any drugs to knock Beatrice out. It was quite possible Douglas stole the pills from Cecil’s bag without him knowing about it. I’d seen Cecil’s doctor’s bag sitting on various sofas in the house. It wouldn’t have taken Douglas long to sneak it open and snatch what he needed.

“Well, there was no harm in asking. I’ll have to manage as I am for now. Maybe if I can get a good night’s sleep, it will make me feel better, and I won’t need anything.”

“Yes, try that first,” said Cecil. “I find some warm milk and a lettuce sandwich always does the job for me when I can’t sleep.”

“A lettuce sandwich?”

“Yes, when you eat lettuce, it releases a compound into your system that acts as a natural sedative. Nature is quite marvellous.”

“I’ll have to try that sometime.” I said goodbye to Cecil and returned to the house. He was clueless but sweet. I would have to look elsewhere if I wanted to find out what may have been used to drug Beatrice.

***

Another long day of dictation and filing came to an end, and it was almost eight o’clock by the time I left Lord Galbraith’s study. I wandered to the kitchen with Flipper, unable to ignore the frustration I felt at not making any progress with finding Beatrice’s killer.

On the kitchen counter was a delicious looking Victoria sponge cake, icing sugar dusted over the fluffy looking layers of cake, jam peeking out from the middle. It must have been left by the catering company.

It was just what I needed, and I cut myself a generous slice and sat at the table with a mug of tea, occasionally breaking off tiny pieces of cake for Flipper to eat. As I fed him, my mind drifted back to the poor dogs stuck in the kennels in the grounds. I hadn’t had an opportunity to walk them yet. But the least I could do was make sure they were fed properly.

Once I’d finished my cake, I sorted through the cupboards and found a few tins of stewing steak and vegetables. I mixed everything in a large bowl, Flipper looking on with interest, and carried the bowl out to the dog kennels.

As I approached, I heard the dogs grumbling and snuffling in the darkness. Silence fell as I approached, their eyes glinting in the gloom as I reached the kennels. “There’s nothing to worry about. I thought you might like a snack.”

There were several empty bowls lined up outside the kennels, so I tipped the contents of my own bowl into them and pushed them through the small serving holes in the bottom of the wire fence.

The dogs sniffed the air, muzzles raised, then dashed to the bowls and started gobbling the food.

“You poor things. You need more food. I’ll ask Zach to get more supplies for you.”

I watched the little black dog in the kennel on her own. She was slower than the others and kept glancing at me nervously, tail between her legs. “Eat up. You’re safe with me.”

Flipper whined and paced in a circle a couple of times.

“Is Beatrice coming?” I asked him.

Flipper raised his head and stared into the darkness.

A few seconds later, Beatrice’s ghostly image appeared by the kennels.

“Is that one yours?” I pointed to the nervous black dog.

Beatrice nodded, a sad look in her eyes as she gazed at the dogs.

“It isn't fair they’re locked in here,” I said. “I did ask Lady Galbraith if she would take them inside, but she wasn’t interested in helping.”

I saw Beatrice’s shoulders sag, and her ghostly fingers trailed through the wire of the kennels.

“I’ll make sure they get a good home and are set free.”

Beatrice nodded, her focus on the lone black dog.

“Do they have dogs where you are?”

Beatrice ignored my question and kept staring at the dog.

“I bet she misses you, too,” I said.

Beatrice nodded, her eyes misting with tears.

“And it won't be just the dogs I'll set free,” I said. “I’ll make sure you get to be free, too. It’s time to find out what really happened to you.”

Chapter 19

It felt like I was on board a ship, my stomach flipping over and my ears ringing. I opened my eyes to find my bed being roughly shaken and Beatrice looming over me.

“You have to stop bothering me when I’m asleep.” I yanked the covers over my head. The shaking got worse, and despite pretending I wasn’t there, Beatrice wouldn’t go away.

“What’s the matter?” I sat up in a rush, making my head spin. Flipper jumped on the bed and licked my face.

“Good morning to you, too,” I said to him. “Now, please chase away Beatrice for me.”

Flipper kept licking my face and ignored my command.

Beatrice beckoned for me to follow her.

“There had better be a fire or a rabid bear about to attack, waking me up like that,” I muttered. “Don’t make a habit of this, or we’ll fall out again.”

She frowned and gestured at me again before pointing to the door of the bedroom.

“Give me a minute. I can’t go downstairs in my night dress.” I clambered out of bed, grabbed yesterday’s clothes, ran my hands through my hair, and hurried out of the bedroom with Flipper, Beatrice leading the way.

As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard raised voices from below.

Helen hurried along the corridor, her eyes wide, still in her pyjamas. “I think I got woken up by Beatrice. She plunged my room to freezing temperatures and pulled the covers off me.”

“You’re the lucky one,” I said. “She shook my mattress so hard I was almost sick.”

“What’s going on?” Helen peered over the banister to the ground floor.

We both watched in silence as two police officers walked along the hallway and into Lord Galbraith’s study. A few moments later, Douglas emerged, the police officers either side of him and Lord Galbraith tailing them, his arms folded and a stern expression on his face.

I ran down the stairs with Helen and Flipper behind me and followed after them. “Lord Galbraith, what’s happening?”

“Miss Shadow, I wish you hadn’t seen this.” Lord Galbraith turned to me. “It appears Douglas is implicated in a crime. Well, two crimes, actually.”

“What’s he done?” I peered out the front door as Douglas was placed in the back of a police car.

“This is all rather embarrassing, and you must keep the information I am about to tell you to yourself,” said Lord Galbraith.

“Of course. I won’t breathe a word of what’s happening to anyone.”

“Neither will I,” said Helen.

Lord Galbraith let out a sigh. “It would seem Douglas has become desperate for money. He was found with a large quantity in his room. The exact amount I keep in my safe.”

“Douglas has been stealing from you?” I knew from the argument I'd overheard him have with Lord Galbraith that he was in need of some money, but this was such a blatant act.

“That’s not the worst of it. When the police were called in, they searched his room for any other items he may have taken. They found a large stash of unlicensed prescription medication in one of the cabinets in his bedroom.”

“Douglas is a drug addict?” asked Helen.

“The police don’t believe they are for his own personal use. But they do think he may have been selling them to make some extra money,” said Lord Galbraith.

“Where did he get them from?” I asked.

“That is a question the police need to answer.” Lord Galbraith’s expression was sad as the police car pulled away from the house. “What is most worrying me, is that there were also a number of items of Beatrice’s in his possession, next to the medication.”

“Douglas was stealing from your sister as well?” I asked. “Why would he keep things he had stolen for such a long time?”

“He may not have kept them for a long time.” Lord Galbraith shut the front door. “Douglas may have spotted them when he began clearing Beatrice’s room and decided he could make some money from them.”

“That’s a possibility,” I said, more to myself than Lord Galbraith. “He was in the room at the same time as us. Maybe he spotted some items he liked the look of then.”

Lord Galbraith shook his head sadly. “It is such a shame. Douglas had the potential to be a great man, but he squandered his money and ambitions on alcohol and women. And now, he has nothing. And he may well receive a custodial sentence. This is not the first time Douglas has had an encounter with the police.”

“Sylvester, perhaps you shouldn’t share all of our family secrets with the hired help.” Lady Galbraith stood at the top of the stairs, her arms folded over her narrow chest as she glared down at us.

“My dear, they need to know the kind of people they are working for,” said Lord Galbraith. “They might change their minds and decide they no longer wish to work in a house of such ill-gotten gains.”

“We are not associated with Douglas’s wrong doings.” Lady Galbraith descended the stairs. “He has gotten exactly what he deserves. I imagine he assumed, because he is a family member, we would not report him to the police.”

“We didn’t, my dear,” said Lord Galbraith. “You did. I would have been content to deal with it ourselves.”

“He must know he cannot manipulate us,” said Lady Galbraith. “Now, enough of this talk. I am sure we all have plenty to keep us busy today. And Miss Holliday, you might like to change your outfit before you attend to me.”

Helen looked down at her pyjamas and blushed. “I’ll get changed right away.” She dashed up the stairs.

“And Miss Shadow, I am quite sure you have plenty to do. It looks like you haven’t even brushed your hair this morning. You should make yourself more presentable before going to work with my husband. This household has certain standards that cannot be allowed to slip.”

I muttered something unintelligible and shot her a dark look as she walked away.

“I know she can be a little harsh at times,” said Lord Galbraith quietly, “but she means well. My wife is fiercely protective of the family and its reputation. She would do anything to make sure our name isn’t sullied.”

I nodded at Lord Galbraith, before turning and heading back to my bedroom to dress and, as Lady Galbraith so bluntly pointed out, make sure I looked presentable. My mind wouldn’t stop whirring through the revelations about Douglas. It all seemed so convenient. Drugs, money, and stolen goods discovered so easily. The more I thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense.

And knowing how protective Lady Galbraith was of the family name, I wondered if she had decided to frame Douglas and put an end to the rumors about how Beatrice died, once and for all.

***

“I thought you were as convinced as I am that Douglas is involved in Beatrice’s death?” Helen looked over at me from across the kitchen table. We had finished another day of work and were dissecting what we’d discovered about Douglas’s arrest.

“I was. He’s a sleazy guy and not to be trusted. But he’s also not stupid. And from what Lord Galbraith said, Douglas made no attempt to hide any of the things he supposedly stole. The drugs were sitting next to the stolen money he’s meant to have taken from Lord Galbraith’s safe. He would have found a better hiding place.”

“Maybe he’s too arrogant and simply thought he’d get away with it,” said Helen. “Or he was intending to spend the money quickly, so didn’t waste his time finding a good hiding spot.”

The back door leading into the kitchen opened, and Zach walked through. “I’ve just been to feed the dogs in the kennels. Do you fancy walking them with me?” He addressed the question at me.

Flipper's ears pricked up at the mention of a walk.

“You're included as well, Flipper,” said Zach. “And Helen, you're welcome to join us.”

“I'm too busy to go out walking,” said Helen. “But Lorna is free.”

“A walk sounds lovely,” I said to Zach, ignoring Helen's comment. “Have you heard the news about Douglas?”

“Bits and pieces.” Zach stepped back into the garden. “I was in the grounds when the police car drove past, and I saw him in the back. You can fill me in on the rest during our walk.”

I went to tidy up my dishes, but Helen grabbed them out of my hands. “Leave those to me. You have a date to go on.”

I shot a look at the back door to make sure Zach couldn’t hear. “It’s not a date.”

She winked at me. “But it could be. Get out of here and spend some time with your Prince Charming.”

I grinned at her and hurried after Zach into the garden, Flipper next to me.

“I noticed the dog bowls had been moved,” said Zach as we walked through the rose garden, their late evening scent making my nose tingle. “I’m guessing that was your doing?”

“Yes, I went to see them last night and gave them some meat and vegetables. They seemed to appreciate it. You might need to up their rations so they don’t get hungry.”

“They don’t work off any energy sitting in those kennels,” said Zach. “But I can give them a few extra dog biscuits.”

“Do you think we can set them free, now their poor excuse for an owner is out of the picture?”

“It’s possible. Now Douglas is gone, I’m not sure what’s going to happen to them.”

“We’ll find good homes for the dogs,” I said. “We can’t abandon them.”

“No, I would never abandon them. Even if they have to sleep in the back of my van for a few nights, they’ll be safe,” said Zach. “So, tell me about Douglas’s arrest.”

“I was just discussing it with Helen. It’s strange. He’s been found with money, items belonging to Beatrice, and prescription medications that weren’t his.”

“Never had Douglas pegged as someone who was into drugs.”

“I don’t think he is,” I said. “The police reckon he’s been selling the drugs to make extra money.”

“He’s not that hard up,” said Zach. “He acts like a bit of an idiot, but he’s got a brain in his head. The police have it wrong.”

“That’s what I think. Everything was too easy to find. Somebody else is involved in this.”

We stopped outside the dog kennels, and I spent a few minutes encouraging the black dog over to me. The others were happy enough to have their chins tickled, but the little black dog refused to come near me and curled into a tight ball in one corner of her kennel.

“Poor little thing,” I said. “She seems so miserable. Beatrice was here last night with me, and she’s just as sad about seeing her dog shut up like this.”

“And how is Beatrice?” asked Zach. “Happy Douglas has been arrested? Is she convinced he has been stealing from the family?”

“Beatrice has been quiet since she alerted me to what happened to Douglas. She woke me up to tell me he was being arrested. But since then, she’s vanished.” I looked around the increasing gloom in the garden. “Beatrice, are you out there?”

“Any sign of her?” asked Zach, also peering into the encroaching darkness as if hoping to spot a ghost.

“No, nothing.” I looked down at Flipper. “She’s not about, is she?”

Flipper looked up at me and gave me a doggy grin. He was completely relaxed. Definitely a sign there was no ghost around.

“Shall we walk these dogs?” asked Zach.

I nodded and waited as Zach put leashes on the five dogs. The black dog was still reluctant to come out, but after some gentle persuasion, she placed her paws outside the kennel and looked up at me.

“Come on now. Let’s take you for a little walk around the grounds, and maybe you’ll start to trust me.” I gently stroked her head, feeling a tremble run through her. “Don’t you remember me from last night? I gave you that lovely dinner.”

Flipper inched closer to the black dog, his tail wagging, and they sniffed noses.

“You see, you already have a new friend,” I said to the black dog. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Zach was already ahead of me, the other dogs eager to be out and exploring the grounds.

I hurried to catch up with him, Flipper and the black dog on either side of me.

“Tell me your theory,” said Zach as I reached his side. “Do you think Lady Galbraith set up Douglas? And if so, where’s your proof?”

“That’s the frustrating thing, other than her being an ice queen, I don’t have any. In fact, I’d written her off as having nothing to do with the troubles in this house.” I let out a sigh. “Maybe this is all unrelated. Douglas could simply be sleazy and greedy. Beatrice could have died of natural causes. Lady Galbraith could have been born mean.”

“But you don’t believe that?”

“No, I don’t. Somehow it’s connected. And if I don’t figure out the connection, Douglas could be implicated in something that isn’t his fault.”

“He still deserves to be punished,” said Zach. “After the way he treated you the other night. Don’t forget he did drug you.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” I said. “And maybe this is simply him getting his just desserts. But what if it wasn’t him? Then the guilty party is still out there somewhere. And it has to be a family member. Who else could get inside the house, open Lord Galbraith’s safe, steal from Beatrice’s room, and put everything in Douglas’s room for the police to find at just the right time?”

“What about Cecil? Have you asked him about the drugs? Could be that Douglas stole them from him.”

“I wondered about that,” I said. “I haven’t seen Cecil all day. And surely, he would have reported such a large amount of drugs going missing. If he didn’t, and the police discovered it, he would get in trouble.”

“He most likely would,” said Zach. “But he’s not the smartest tool in the box. Maybe he thought he’d made a mistake about where he put the drugs or miscounted his supplies, and rather than putting his hands up, he hoped it would go away.”

“I'll talk to Cecil again.”

“You've already interrogated Cecil about his involvement in this mystery?”

“I don't interrogate, I ask gentle questions.” I grinned at Zach. “I tried to winkle a few sleeping pills out of him, claiming I couldn’t get to sleep at night, and he refused to give them to me. He told me I needed to see my own doctor or register with him so he could dispense the pills legally.”

“It doesn’t sound as if he’d hand over pills to Douglas easily,” said Zach.

I waited as the black dog sniffed around the base of a tree, seeming more relaxed, now she was out of her kennel. “Maybe the police will have more luck when they question Douglas.” I certainly wasn’t getting anywhere chasing my thoughts around my head.

“Let’s finish this walk and get the dogs back in their kennels,” said Zach. “It’s been a busy day. Maybe tomorrow, we’ll have more news about Douglas, and the case can be closed.”

I nodded and we continued our circuit of the grounds with the dogs. But my mind wouldn’t rest. Something was wrong, and even if Douglas was involved in this theft, it still didn’t resolve the issue of Beatrice’s death. There were more questions that needed answering.

Chapter 20

“How was your date?” asked Helen over breakfast the next morning.

“It definitely wasn’t a date,” I said. “We took the dogs for a walk and talked about Douglas. Honestly, it couldn’t have been any less romantic.”

Helen gave a shudder. “Yes, talking about that creep is enough to put me off my cornflakes. And did you come to any useful conclusions about Douglas?”

“Only that I’m not sure he did it,” I said. “Have you heard anything else about his arrest?”

“Lady Galbraith wouldn’t say anything to me yesterday,” said Helen. “I took her some tea in the evening, and she didn’t even acknowledge me.”

“Maybe I’ll have more luck with Lord Galbraith this morning.”

“You won’t,” said Helen. “I saw Karl driving him away from the house early this morning. I’d only just gotten up, so it couldn’t have been much later than six o'clock.”

“He didn’t tell me he wouldn’t be around today.”

“Maybe he’s gone to the police station to see about Douglas,” said Helen.

“It could be that.” I finished my porridge and stood up. “I’d better go and see what work he has left me in his study.”

“I’ll let you know if I hear anything useful about the case,” said Helen. “Oh, how is Beatrice taking the news?”

“That’s the strangest thing,” I said. “Beatrice has disappeared. Maybe she decided Douglas is involved in all of this, the stealing, the drugs, her death. That could be enough for her, and she’s gone on to whatever lies next.”

“At least she won’t be waking you up anymore by shaking the bed.”

“Yes, that’s one good thing.” As I walked to Lord Galbraith’s study with Flipper by my side, I realised I missed Beatrice. If she had gone, I’d not had a chance to say goodbye. It was a shame; although I wouldn’t miss her icy touch and stern expression, it would have been nice to have said a final farewell.

The study was empty when I walked in, but there was a note from Lord Galbraith setting out my duties for the day. I settled Flipper into one corner, sat at the desk, switched on the laptop, and got to work.

***

I’d been working for about an hour, when the study door was opened, and Cecil hurried through, his black doctor’s case in hand.

“Oh, I was looking for Sylvester.” His white shirt was creased, and I could see the zipper on his trousers was only half up, suggesting he had dressed in a hurry.

“He’s had to leave early today. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Cecil wiped a finger along his top lip. “I was wondering about Douglas. What’s happened to him?”

“You know he’s been arrested?”

“Yes, I heard about that.” Cecil sat in the seat opposite me, placing his bag down, but instantly stood again and paced around the room. “Have they charged him?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” I said. “But the evidence seems damning. They found money and stolen items.”

“And drugs,” said Cecil. “I heard they found a lot of drugs in his room.”

“That’s right.” I looked over at Cecil. His whole body was shaking with nervous tension. “Do you mind me asking if they were your drugs?”

“My drugs! Whatever makes you think that?” Cecil gave me a startled look.

“Well, you are the local doctor around here, and you used to be close to Douglas. I wondered if maybe you had given him the drugs.”

“My dear girl, I would never do such a thing,” said Cecil. “He most likely stole them from me when I wasn’t looking. I always knew he couldn’t be trusted.”

“Yes, I wondered if he might have done something like that. He even tried to drug me,” I said. “He’s a bad lot.”

“He tried to drug you?” Cecil sat in his seat again and stared at me. “Did he hurt you?”

I smoothed down my skirt. “No, I managed to get away with my dignity very much intact.”

“I had no idea he would go so far,” said Cecil.

“What do you mean, go so far?” I stared hard at Cecil. Sweat beaded his upper lip and his hands trembled. “Do you know anything about the drugs he used on me?”

“No, as I said, that has nothing to do with me,” said Cecil. “Douglas is dangerous. You need to watch out for him.”

“I know that now,” I said. “But what did you mean, by going so far? Has Douglas used drugs on other people?”

“He may have.” Cecil ran a hand down his face. “I had a rather worrying talk with the police today.”

“Why are the police interested in you?”

“Not me, but Beatrice. And as her doctor they contacted me to discuss her medical history.”

“Do they think Douglas had something to do with Beatrice's death?”

“Yes. They think Douglas may have drugged Beatrice. The drugs found in his possession could have caused symptoms similar to heart failure. They have contacted a judge to get a court order to exhume her body and do further tests.”

My mouth opened in surprise. That would explain why Beatrice had disappeared. If people were planning to dig up her body, she would most likely be watching over her burial site. She must be so worried.

“What a horrible thing for Beatrice to have to go through,” I said. “What are they planning on doing?”

“I imagine they will run a full toxicology screen. That may show something.”

“But why would Douglas drug her?”

“Who knows why Douglas does a lot of things.” Cecil's bottom lip trembled. “I am concerned.”

“For Beatrice or Douglas?”

“For me! The police may think I’m incompetent if it’s discovered Beatrice was drugged and I’d not noticed it during my examination of her body.”

“Would you have access to such medication?” I asked him. “Could Douglas have taken the drugs from you? Did he ever ask you for drugs like that?”

“No, as I said to you before, Douglas never asked me for pills. He was more of a booze hound,” said Cecil. “What if they discover something is wrong with Beatrice’s remains? I might be blamed.”

“Better they do a thorough investigation than leave Beatrice in the ground, knowing she was killed.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Cecil paced across the room again. “It might be better if I go away. Don’t want to get in trouble with the law.”

“What’s the worst that can happen? They might slap you on the wrists. But you did a thorough examination of Beatrice’s body. If you did everything you could, then you won’t get into trouble. And you said, the drugs mimic heart failure. If you weren’t looking for that specific drug, then it’s not your fault.”

Cecil dabbed the back of his hand against his forehead. “But what if I wasn’t as thorough as I should have been?”

“You did do the autopsy?”

“Well, yes. I did a basic examination of Beatrice’s body,” said Cecil. “I’m always called on in these rural parts to deal with autopsies. Fortunately, they rarely need doing; it was not a pleasant part of my medical training.”

“A basic examination doesn’t sound like a complete autopsy to me.”

“It was upsetting. You see, I was very fond of Beatrice. She was a lovely lady, so kind and generous. She never said no to anything. Always willing to help. But she was so shy. I could never understand what went through her head.”

“So you were too upset to do a thorough examination on Beatrice’s body? Does that mean you didn’t run all the tests you should have?” Perhaps Cecil hadn’t been doing his job properly and was about to get found out.

“Oh dear, this is a terrible mess.” Cecil grasped his hands in front of him. “It should never have gone this far.”

“I'm sure the police will understand,” I said, Cecil's nerves making me anxious. “It's not like you concealed information from anybody. You may get a warning because you didn't do all the tests you should, but I can't imagine they'll do anything else.”

“No, you don't understand,” said Cecil. “What have I done?”

“Why don't you tell me what you did?” I realised my hands were gripping the arms of the chair too tightly.

“I’ve made a terrible mistake. Nobody was ever supposed to know. It’s just that, well, I loved her.” Cecil slumped into the seat.

“You were in love with Beatrice Galbraith?”

“I only wanted to make her more amenable to my requests.” Cecil continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “I knew I could make her happy. I just needed her to see that. But Beatrice only loved her dogs. She only ever had time for those animals. Sometimes, she barely noticed me.”

“What did you do to Beatrice to make her more amenable?”

“I tried a few things.” Cecil gave a weary sigh. “To begin with, I was simply kind to her. I spent as much time with her as possible, trying to get her to see the real me, see how we could be happy together.”

“And I take it that didn’t work?”

“She was kind, but I could see in her eyes she didn’t want to spend any time with me.”

“Did you do anything else to Beatrice?”

“I gave her gifts,” said Cecil. “But she didn’t care about material things. In fact, that was one of the things I loved about her.”

“And that’s all you did? You tried to woo her, and it didn’t succeed?”

Cecil cast me a guilty look. “It’s all going to come out now, anyway. I really should leave.”

I forced myself to stay calm. “What are they going to find when they do more tests on Beatrice’s body?”

“Possibly nothing,” said Cecil. “It was Douglas’s idea. This is his fault. The police were right to arrest him.”

“What did you do?”

“Douglas told me about the trick he used with difficult women.”

“You mean drugging their drinks and taking advantage of them?” I glared at Cecil. “That’s hardly a trick; that’s illegal.”

“Yes, that.” Cecil’s gaze dropped to the floor. “He told me it worked like a charm. All it did was reduce inhibitions. It sounded like the perfect solution to me. I only needed to break down Beatrice’s barriers and stop her from repressing her true feelings for me.”

“So you drugged her?” I shot a look at the closed door of the study. It seemed like a long way away, and the manic expression on Cecil’s face was unsettling me.

“At first, it was just one pill now and again, whenever I could get one into her. And when she took them, she did seem more interested in me. We would talk for hours, and I finally felt as if I were getting through to her.”

“But the pills didn’t work well enough? Beatrice didn’t fall in love with you.”

“That’s the trouble with those kinds of pills,” said Cecil. “Your body gets used to the drugs, and you need to up the dose to have the same impact. It’s why they’re rarely prescribed anymore. I had a load of out of date medication in my surgery that would only have been destroyed. I saw no harm in using it on Beatrice.”

“No harm at all. Other than the fact she is dead.”

Cecil's eyes filled with tears. “Yes, other than that.”

I stood up from my seat. “You killed Beatrice!”

Chapter 21

Flipper jumped to his feet as he heard the alarm in my voice, his ice blue gaze settling on Cecil.

“I swear her death was an accident,” said Cecil. “I’d had a heavy few days at the surgery, and a few equally heavy nights drinking with Douglas. I forgot how many pills I’d given Beatrice, one day. I would sometimes grind them up and hide them inside chocolates. That was one thing Beatrice did love; she had a sweet tooth and would never turn down a box of chocolates. But I made a mistake and filled too many of them with the ground up pills. And I didn’t realise she would eat the whole box of chocolates in one sitting.”

“So she ate the chocolates laced with drugs, and then what? Her heart gave out because of the overdose?”

Cecil hung his head. “It must have.”

“But why was her body found in the garden? Did you put her there?”

“No, absolutely not! But the medication has a number of side effects, one of them being hallucinations. It’s quite possible she began seeing things that weren’t there and fled the house in fright. It would explain why she was found outside. But I didn’t mean for it to happen. They can’t charge me for something that was an accident.”

“They can, and they will. You deliberately drugged an innocent woman, trying to make her do something she clearly didn’t want to do. You were so drunk and incompetent that you overdosed her and she died.”

“No, it’s not.” Cecil’s chin wobbled. “I made an error of judgement. Doctors do it all the time.”

“But you did this deliberately,” I said. “Beatrice is dead because of you.”

Cecil let out a groan. “And the autopsy will show the drugs in her system. I didn’t do some of the tests because I was worried such an excessive amount of medication would look strange. Unless someone was trying to do themselves harm, they would never have ingested that amount of sedative. Questions will be raised. I have to leave now whilst I still have the chance.”

“You can’t leave,” I said. “You have to admit to what you’ve done to the police. Otherwise, Douglas will be charged for something he’s innocent of.”

“He deserves to be in prison,” said Cecil. “As you’ve witnessed first-hand, he’s a disgusting example of a human being. What man in his right mind goes around drugging women?”

“I’m looking at one,” I said. “And I agree, Douglas is not a nice man, but he can’t go to prison for something you’ve done.”

“I can’t go to prison either,” said Cecil. “I wouldn’t last five minutes inside a prison cell. I’m not made for prison.”

“You set Douglas up to take the blame over this, didn't you. You planted the drugs in his room. And I bet you’ve got access to Lord Galbraith’s safe. It would have been easy for you to take a few pieces belonging to Beatrice and put them in Douglas’s room.”

“I got nervous, and that’s your fault. You started asking too many questions about Beatrice, and I realised my secret might get out.”

“You framed an innocent man.”

“I may have made it a little easier for the police to discover what sort of vile individual Douglas is,” said Cecil. “You should be thanking me for that and helping me get away. Surely, doing that good deed earns me clemency in your eyes?”

“No, I can’t help you get away with this. Beatrice is convinced it was her brother who killed her. She needs to know the truth.”

Cecil blinked at me several times. “You talk about Beatrice as if she is still alive.”

“I know she is dead, but I also know she’s not at peace. You need to be held accountable for what you’ve done. It’s what Beatrice would want.”

“You cannot know what a woman you have never met would have wanted.”

“I know she wouldn’t want the man who is supposed to love her do her any harm. If you truly love Beatrice, you would come clean.”

“But Beatrice would thank me for making sure Douglas could do no more harm to women,” said Cecil.

“Do you believe that? What would Beatrice say if she knew what you’d done to her?” I glanced around the room, hoping Beatrice would materialise and discover Cecil’s involvement in her death. But the air remained still, and Flipper was not alerting me to any signs of her ghostly presence.

Cecil gave a mirthless laugh. “She would most likely not say anything. Unless you had four legs and a tail, she barely noticed you.”

“Well, I know she would want you to do the decent thing. The right thing. Come clean and confess what you did to her. Perhaps the police will consider your actions more kindly if you make a confession now.”

Cecil sank into the chair, as if the air had deflated out of him. “People cannot know what I have done.”

“They’re going to know, even if I have to tell them.”

Cecil glared at me. “I do like you, Lorna. I wish you could have kept your nose out of this matter.”

“And I liked you, too, until I realised what you’d done to Beatrice.”

Cecil reached down and opened his case. He paused, then gave a swift nod. “Are you sure you have to tell the police about what I’ve informed you of? This could be our secret. I'll give you all the sleeping pills you need if you're still having problems sleeping.”

My gaze went to his case. “This is not the sort of secret I want to keep.”

Cecil’s lips trembled. “Such a pity.”

I watched as he extracted a syringe and a small vial of clear liquid. “What are you going to do with that?”

“Make sure my secret is kept forever. You are the only one who knows what happened.”

“Don’t be so sure of that,” I said swiftly. “Beatrice knows as well.”

“But my beloved Beatrice is dead.”

“Other people have their suspicions about you. Helen is not certain about you, and the gardener has his concerns.”

“I really don’t have much to worry about in that case.” Cecil inspected the contents of the vial. “A seamstress and a gardener will not be believed over my word. I am a trusted and respected doctor in this area.”

“Beatrice!” Panic made my voice hitch. “I need your help.”

Cecil filled the syringe and tapped the side of it. “You are a strange one. It almost sounds as if you can speak to the dead. Maybe your death could be attributed to psychotic delusions. I could fake a few records of appointments, where you discussed your feelings of depression and suicidal thoughts. Your death wouldn’t come as much of a surprise if I did that.”

Flipper growled, his head lowered as he glared at Cecil, seeming to recognise his malicious intent against me.

“You would be wise to call your dog off,” said Cecil. “I blame those animals for taking Beatrice’s affection away from me. If she hadn’t been so obsessed with her own beasts, she would have paid me more attention. We might have had a chance at happiness. But her animals ruined that. I’ll not hesitate in putting him down if I have to. These drugs work just as well on animals.”

I didn’t want to risk Flipper getting hurt, and I knew he would protect me if he thought I was under threat. “Flipper, heel.” I beckoned him over, and after a few seconds of hesitation, he obeyed me, his gaze remaining on Cecil.

“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” said Cecil.

“I’m not going to let you kill me,” I said.

“You won’t feel a thing, barely a scratch on your arm as I inject you. It’s a fast acting sedative. You will be unconscious in seconds. As your heartbeat slows, you won’t be aware of any pain or discomfort. It will be as if you fell asleep. The only difference being you will never wake up.”

“That’s not going to happen.” My stomach clenched, fear coursing through me.

“Then you pick the hard way,” said Cecil. “But know this; I am not going to prison. And if that means removing you, then so be it.”

Flipper whined and pawed at the ground. The air around me chilled, and I let out a sigh of relief. My ghostly cavalry had arrived.

“Beatrice,” I breathed out her name.

“Stop saying her name.” Cecil stood up. “The woman is dead; she cannot help you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” My hair lifted as Beatrice shot past me, her eyes blazing as she blasted through Cecil.

He dropped the syringe and stumbled back a few steps. “What was that?” His gaze went to the closed windows.

“It looks like the dead aren’t quite as dead as you thought,” I said. “Beatrice is here to tell you how unhappy she is with you.”

Cecil’s face paled, two tiny red dots left on each cheek. “Impossible!”

“Beatrice, why don’t you show Cecil how angry you are?” I pressed my back against one wall, making sure to keep Flipper by my side and out of the way of Beatrice and Cecil.

Beatrice materialised in front of me and winked, before turning to Cecil and launching herself at him, once again. He stumbled back another few steps as she shot through him.

“This is madness,” he yelled. “Whatever you are doing, make it stop.”

“Providing you make a full confession about what you did, I will,” I said. “Or rather, Beatrice will.”

“I do not believe in ghosts.” Cecil’s panicked gaze roved around the room. “She cannot be here. My love is dead.”

Beatrice threw a chair against the wall, and it smashed into pieces, making us all jump.

“This must be some kind of magic trick.” Cecil’s mouth wobbled as he looked at the broken pieces of chair. “It can’t be real. Beatrice is dead. I killed her.”

“Yes, you did. And you must confess to that,” I said, “or you will never have any peace. Beatrice will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

Beatrice hovered next to Cecil for a second, a mixture of sadness and anger crossing her face.

“Beatrice, if it is of any comfort to you, I don’t think Cecil meant to do you harm. He did make a mistake, even though I know that’s not much good to you now.”

Cecil sank to the floor, his head in his hands. “I didn’t mean to do it. I made a terrible error. I thought I could make her love me. I thought I was doing the right thing. Women can be so stubborn.”

I exchanged a glance with Beatrice, and we shook our heads in unison. Cecil wasn’t doing much to endear himself to either of us.

“Are you ready to make a confession?” I asked him.

He nodded slowly, still on his knees. “I killed Beatrice Galbraith.”

I sighed. “I mean, are you going to confess to the police? Are you going to make sure Douglas is released and you are tried for the crime you committed?”

Cecil looked up at me, his expression frantic. “I cannot go to prison.” He lunged across the floor and grabbed the syringe he’d dropped. He threw himself at me, syringe in hand. I ducked out of the way and circled behind the desk.

Beatrice launched a candlestick at Cecil, and he jumped out of the way. “They will not take me. I still have time to get away.”

Flipper snarled and made a lunge at Cecil’s trousers. He kicked out and Flipper yelped.

“No! You do not hurt my dog.” I grabbed a heavy antique looking vase from the mantelpiece and smashed it over Cecil’s head.

Cecil dropped to the ground like a stone. Blood trickled from his forehead where I had hit him with the vase; the syringe on the floor next to him.

I ran over to Flipper, my heart pounding, worried he had been injured by Cecil's wild kick. I couldn’t feel any damage to his ribs, and after several reassuring strokes, he relaxed and licked my face.

I looked over at Cecil. “He tried to hurt Flipper. I couldn’t let him do that.”

Beatrice floated to my side, and rested a ghostly hand on top of mine. She nodded at me and smiled. Here was a woman after my own heart. We both knew what we needed to do to keep our loved ones safe; even if those loved ones had four legs and fur, they were just as important.

“It’s time to call in the police,” I said.

Chapter 22

“Tell me one more time what happened.” Helen stared at me with wide eyes over the kitchen table.

“You must be bored of hearing about it by now,” I said. A day had passed since Cecil tried to attack me with a syringe, having confessed to drugging Beatrice.

“We’re not.” Zach tapped the side of his mug. “I won't ever get bored of hearing about how you and a ghost felled the real killer, and how you knocked Cecil out because he tried to hurt Flipper.”

“It’s not as exciting as it sounds.” My hands still trembled as I clasped the half-empty mug of tea in front of me.

“So, Cecil drugged Beatrice because she refused to date him,” said Helen. “That’s creepy.”

“That’s what he confessed to,” I said. “Seems as if, once the police got wind there was something wrong with Beatrice’s death, and they planned to exhume the body, Cecil got scared. He was so nervous when he came into Lord Galbraith’s study. I’m not sure what he planned to do if he’d found Lord Galbraith and talked to him. But from what Cecil said, he was planning to make his escape before the police put everything together and realised they were charging the wrong man with Beatrice’s death.”

“Maybe Cecil was going to ask for some money to help him get away?” suggested Helen.

“Or he wanted to make a confession to someone he was supposed to be friends with,” said Zach. “His conscience could have made him feel too guilty to leave without telling the truth.”

“Either of those theories are possible,” I said.

“And the tests they are planning to do would show a large amount of drugs in Beatrice’s system?” asked Zach. “Wouldn’t they have disappeared after so many years?”

“Toxicology tests are advanced,” said Helen. “I bet they’d be able to find traces of all sorts of things in Beatrice’s system, including the drugs Cecil used on her.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“I watch the crime programmes on TV. Modern science is wonderful,” said Helen.

“It’s no wonder Cecil was so panicked,” I said. “If he hadn’t run the tests deliberately when he did the initial autopsy, it would be another mark of guilt against him. It would show he knew something bad would show up, and fingers would be pointed in his direction. Cecil also confessed to having a large supply of the medication he used to drug Beatrice.”

“They may find his fingerprints on some of the drugs he stashed to frame Douglas,” said Helen.

“Yes, the police should find more evidence to implicate him,” I said. “But they still want my statement. When I spoke to one of the officers, they weren’t impressed that I hit Cecil over the head and knocked him out. They think he might have a concussion.”

“But he tried to stab you with a syringe full of goodness knows what,” said Helen. “You had the right to defend yourself.”

“I did point that out to the police. They are taking it into consideration and will most likely rule it as self-defence. If I hadn’t hit him, he would have drugged me. And he most definitely would have hurt Flipper. And I couldn’t have that.”

“If it’s any help, I have a brother in the police,” said Zach. “He might be able to smooth things over for you. You’ll still have to give your statement, but he can make sure they don’t focus on you. Wouldn’t want them to start asking questions about your ghostly abilities.”

“That would be great,” said Helen. “How thoughtful of you, Zach. Isn't he so considerate, Lorna?”

I shot Helen a warning look. “It would be helpful, but only if it doesn’t get you in trouble,” I said to Zach. “The police don't want to charge me with anything; they just need to get their facts straight.”

“Fletcher, my brother, won’t mind. He’s one of the high ups in the police. And he owes me a few favors. Happy to call one in to make life easy for you.” Zach gave me a heart melting smile.

“Thanks. That would help me out no end.”

“You were so brave.” Helen reached over and patted my hand.

“And if I may say, you were also extremely foolish,” said Zach. “He could have killed you.”

“I didn’t realise Cecil was the killer.” I frowned at Zach. “And when I realised what he was telling me, I couldn’t simply drop it and let him disappear. Beatrice deserved justice.”

“But not at the expense of your life,” said Zach.

“I’m fine, and I had Beatrice and Flipper as backup. Between the three of us, we had Cecil sorted.” Even though I said that, the tremble in my hands remained. It had been a close call, and it was more by luck than expertise that I’d gotten out of the study alive.

The kitchen door opened, and Lord and Lady Galbraith walked through.

“I am glad to have caught you all together,” said Lord Galbraith.

“Is everything sorted out with the police?” I asked him.

“It’s getting there. Douglas has been released without charge,” said Lord Galbraith. “They have begun their enquiries into Cecil’s involvement. He is still a little confused, but has admitted to killing my poor dear sister.”

“I am so sorry for your loss,” I said. “From the sounds of it, Beatrice was a lovely lady. She didn’t deserve that happening to her.”

Lady Galbraith cleared her throat and stepped in front of her husband. “Indeed. Now, we have the small matter of your employment to discuss.”

“We do?” I looked at Lady Galbraith with surprise.

“You caused a significant amount of damage to my husband’s study.”

“Defending myself from your crazy doctor.”

“Yes, well, be that as it may, you destroyed an expensive antique vase.”

“Again, trying to stop Cecil from killing me.”

“We think that, after everything that has happened, it is best if you find alternative employment,” said Lady Galbraith.

I felt the blood drain from my face. “You’re firing me?”

Chapter 23

“Well, let’s not be too hasty.” Lord Galbraith was silenced by an icy glare from his wife.

“The decision has been made,” said Lady Galbraith. “We will give you both good references and two months’ salary if you agree to leave today. And you must not discuss what has happened at this house with anybody. If I read even a snippet in the newspaper about what occurred, I will know where it has come from, and you will find yourself on charges of defamation.”

“I don’t gossip.” I stood up from my seat and glared at Lady Galbraith. “But you can’t sack me for defending myself. I helped uncover the horrible fact Beatrice had been murdered.”

“You can’t fire Lorna.” Helen joined me and clasped my hand.

“I am not firing anyone,” said Lady Galbraith. “But since the two of you came together, I will require you both to leave the services of this household with immediate effect.”

“That sounds a lot like being fired to me,” I muttered.

Flipper grumbled a warning growl at Lady Galbraith. I felt as aggrieved as Flipper, but what could I do? If I caused a fuss, I’d get the sack, no reference, and no money. If I went quietly, then at least I’d have something to live off for a few months.

“Do we have an agreement?” asked Lady Galbraith.

I looked at Helen, and she nodded. “Fine, we’ll both go,” I said.

“And so will I,” said Zach. “I won’t work for someone who treats their employees badly. Lorna did you a great service. She revealed a family member had been killed, and this is how you treat her. It’s disgusting. You have my resignation, and I will leave immediately as well.”

“Zach, you don’t have to do that,” I said to him.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. I want to work in a place where they treat their employees fairly and reward good service, not attempt to hide their dirty family secrets under the rug because it may inconvenience them,” said Zach.

“Then you are dismissed as well.” Lady Galbraith gave a sniff and turned away. “I will have your references and money left by the front door.” She walked out of the kitchen without a backward glance.

Lord Galbraith remained where he was, rubbing his forehead with his thin fingers. “I am most sorry about this, my dear. My wife is terribly traditional. She hates the idea of a scandal. I did try to talk her out of this, but once her mind is set on something, she will not budge. But rest assured, you will have excellent references. Your skills are admirable.”

“Sylvester!” called Lady Galbraith.

He turned on his heel and fled the kitchen without another word.

I liked Lord Galbraith, but he had just demonstrated what a weak man he was, ruled by his mean-spirited wife.

“I’d better pick up a copy of the wanted ads,” said Helen with a sigh. “And it looks like we’ll need to find a place with three job vacancies, not two, this time.”

I turned to Zach. “Are you sure about resigning? I know how much these gardens mean to you. Don’t do it out of principle. I’ll understand if you decide to stay.”

“I’m ready to go,” said Zach. “I was having doubts about my position here, anyway. And I kept locking horns with that idiot Karl. At least now, I have a good reason to leave. They treated you badly, Lorna. I will not stand for that.”

“You’re such a hero,” said Helen. “Don’t you think so, Lorna? Zach is like a character out of a romance novel.”

That comment gained Helen another warning glare.  “Well, I really appreciate it. And I hope you do find a new job quickly.”

“Like I said,” said Helen, “I’ll happily look for positions for all of us. These big estates often need several roles filled at the same time. I’m sure we can find something the three of us can do together.”

I looked over at Zach and smiled. That wasn’t a bad idea. I could enjoy having Zach around.

***

A frantic hour of packing later, and I stood with Flipper, Helen, and Zach outside the front door of Galbraith Manor. Helen had brought my car around from the back of the house, and our bags were packed inside.

“Here are your references and your final wages.” Lord Galbraith handed out three envelopes. “Once again, I am most sorry you can no longer stay in our employment, but Lady Galbraith believes this is for the best. I am sure you will find other work.”

I nodded and shoved the envelope into my purse. “I understand why you did it, but I don’t agree with the decision.”

“Ah, yes, well sometimes, we have to make decisions that don’t sit comfortably with us.” Lord Galbraith raised his gaze to meet mine. “Thank you for uncovering the truth about my sister’s demise. If she is looking down on us, I believe she would appreciate what you have done.”

I nodded goodbye to Lord Galbraith, before turning to the car and climbing into the passenger seat. Zach jumped into the back with Flipper, and Helen started the engine; she was driving us home.

“Sad to be leaving?” asked Zach, as Helen drove down the driveway.

“Part of me is,” I said. “I could have gotten used to life here.”

“There are plenty more big houses needing our services,” said Helen. “And hopefully, our next job won’t entail me having to get up at the crack of dawn to cower before some ice queen because I hemmed her dress a quarter inch too short.”

“When you get out of sight of the main house, pull over to one side,” I said.

“Have you forgotten something?” asked Helen.

“No, but there’s a bit of unfinished business I need to sort out.”

Helen glanced at me and nodded. A moment later, she pulled the car over and left the engine idling. “Is this good enough?”

“Yes, perfect.” I pushed open the door. “I want to do one last check on Beatrice’s resting place. I don’t think they’ve exhumed her body yet, and I want to see if she is still around. We didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

“Don’t take too long,” said Zach. “I bet Karl is already prowling the grounds, just hoping for an excuse to shoot us if we cause any trouble.”

“He wouldn’t dare,” said Helen. “And if he tried, I’d run him over.”

“He’d make quite a dent in the hood.” Zach grinned at me through the open door as Flipper scrabbled across the seats and jumped out. My ever faithful friend.

“Don’t go running over anybody. I won’t be long.” I hurried away from the car and through a small copse of trees with Flipper. On the other side sat the graves of numerous family pets. And at the edge of those, was Beatrice’s grave.

I paused by the small stone marking her resting place. “I don’t know if you’re still here, but I wanted to say goodbye. I hope you’ve found some resolution and can now rest easy.”

A gentle breeze whipped through the trees behind me, the branches sighing as if they’d heard my words.

I waited a few seconds to see if Beatrice would appear. “Goodbye, Beatrice. Enjoy whatever afterlife you have gone to.” I rested my hand on top of her headstone. It would seem she really had gone.

As I reached the edge of the trees, an icy shudder ran through me. Maybe Beatrice was still here, after all? I turned towards her headstone again, and there she was, standing by the stone, gesturing to me.

“I thought you’d left without saying goodbye.” I walked back towards her grave.

She pointed through the trees and then at Flipper.

I gave her a puzzled look. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Beatrice shook her head at me. She mimed ears on top of her head and stuck her tongue out.

I grinned at her. “I get it. And I haven’t forgotten about the dogs. They were going to be my next stop after visiting your grave. I’d never leave them behind.”

Beatrice shooed her hands at me as if trying to encourage me to get a move on.

My grin widened. “I’m going. Although I’m not sure what I’m going to do with them when they get out of the kennels. But I’ll be able to find them much better homes than here.” I walked through the trees, cutting a diagonal path that led me out to the kennels. Beatrice was by my side the whole time, seeming anxious I get to the dogs quickly.

I pushed through the last of the trees and hurried over to the kennels. The dogs looked up at me expectantly, the black dog remaining in one corner of her kennel, whilst the others jumped up and down. I jiggled the padlocks and looked around. There were no keys to unlock the kennel doors.

I heard a clattering sound and looked over to my left. Beatrice had knocked a pair of shears to the ground and was pointing at them.

“They should do the trick.” I ran over and grabbed the shears, testing to see how sharp the blades were. It would take a couple of minutes, but I could cut through the wire mesh on the kennels and get the dogs out. I set to work swiftly, and soon, most of the dogs were free, happy to sniff around the outside of their kennel as I set to work on freeing the little black dog.

“Almost there,” I said to the dog. “Should have you out in just a second.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Karl stepped out from behind a tree, a shotgun resting over one arm.

I hesitated for only a second, before cutting a final hole in the kennel wire. “Getting these poor dogs out. Now Zach is leaving, no one will take care of them. If I don’t set them free, they’ll starve to death. The family doesn’t care about them.”

“I heard that idiot gardener finally got his marching orders. And looks like you’re out as well.”

“You heard right,” I said. “But we weren’t sacked; we chose to leave.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” said Karl with a sneer.

“And these dogs are coming with me.”

“Are you telling me you’re intending to steal from the Galbraiths?” A sly smile crossed Karl’s face.

“This black dog is Beatrice’s,” I said. “And since Douglas never paid any attention to these other dogs, he’s not going to miss them. I’m doing the family a favor by taking them off their hands.”

“In my eyes, that’s still theft.” Karl’s fingers stroked the barrel of his shotgun. “Looks like they were right to get rid of you. Lady Galbraith must have recognised your criminal tendencies.”

I shook my head and ignored Karl. I’d made a large enough hole in the wire for the black dog to come through. She stared at the opening with longing in her eyes, but didn’t leave her kennel. “Come on, girl. Time for you to leave this horrible prison.”

“You’ll be in prison if you take those dogs.” Karl clicked the barrel of the shotgun into place and rested it over his shoulder.

I kept encouraging the black dog towards me. “Here you go, lovely girl. You’re almost free.” The dog crept towards me on her belly and was within sniffing distance of my fingers.

Karl cleared his throat. “Time for you to go.”

I looked up at him and saw the shotgun levelled at me. “You don’t want to do that.”

“I have permission from the owners to shoot any trespassers. You are now a trespasser.” Karl leered at me from over the top of the gun.

“Don't say I didn't warn you,” I said. “Beatrice, do your worst.”

Karl’s face wrinkled with confusion, before he flew off his feet and landed on his back, the shotgun disappearing into a bush.

I couldn’t resist a grin. The black dog inched close enough for me to catch hold of her collar. I scooped her out of the kennel and into my arms, whistling for the other dogs to follow me, Flipper doing a good job of herding them in the right direction. We ran through the trees towards the waiting car.

I turned back before the kennels disappeared from view. Karl was scrabbling to his feet and running in the opposite direction. Beatrice was smiling, her gaze on me. She raised her hand and waved.

Returning the wave, I watched as her image faded. I hoped she’d go to a better place. Beatrice hadn’t had the best life, but at least, now, she knew her beloved dog would be safe, and could rest easily, knowing her killer would be brought to justice.

I dashed to the car, opened the door, and ushered all the dogs inside, placing the black dog carefully onto Zach’s lap.

Once all the dogs were inside, I jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door. “You’d better get us out of here,” I said to Helen.

“I didn’t realise you’d be bringing along company.” Helen glanced into the back seat before stamping on the gas pedal and shooting away from the estate.

“I couldn’t leave them behind. Now Zach is coming with us, they’d be on their own. And I know how much Beatrice cared about her animals.” I looked into the back seat and saw the black dog snuggling into Zach’s solid embrace. It looked like a safe place to be.

“You’re not thinking about keeping them all, are you?” asked Helen. “Flipper might get jealous, and our apartment is tiny.”

My gaze lingered on the black dog, and for a second, she looked at me, and I thought I saw a glimmer of happiness in her dark eyes. “No, not all of them. We can find them good homes, I’m sure.”

“We will,” said Zach. “I know someone who runs an animal refuge. They’ll take the dogs.” I noticed his grip tighten around the black dog as he spoke. I was not the only one who had fallen for her doggy charms.

“So, onto our next adventure?” Helen turned the car out of the estate and onto a country lane.

“Sounds like the perfect plan.” I surveyed the full car, with its pile of excited dogs, Helen, and the new addition of Zach. Our next adventure would be a fun-filled one.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23