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The head of the local Chamber of Commerce? I knew that Josie had had a few run-ins with Ms. Jacobsen — Hazel referred to them as the irresistible force meeting the immovable object — but it seemed that in general, they tried to stay out of one another’s orbits.
“What about?”
She sighed. “Oh, I simply said that I thought it would be a good idea to have costumed carolers for the festival of lights in December — you know, something to evoke the old pioneer and mining days of the town. But she said it wasn’t a living history event and there was no reason to get so elaborate.” The frown returned as she added, “You know, sometimes I think Miriam is actively going out of her way to keep people away from this town.”
I made a sound of demurral, even though I privately thought Josie might be on to something there. Luckily, I’d mostly managed to avoid Miriam, except for the one notable time when she came into the shop to take pictures for an updated Chamber of Commerce brochure. She managed to spend the entire time she was photographing the place looking as though she’d smelled something bad. Maybe she didn’t like me, or she didn’t like the idea of a pagan store right smack in the middle of Globe’s quaint downtown. Whatever the reason, our interaction hadn’t exactly been what you could call cordial.
“Oh, I suppose she just has her own views on how things should be managed,” I said, and Josie sniffed.
“She has her own views, all right. Too bad that so many of them are dead wrong. She told me we simply didn’t have the budget for costumed carolers, which is absurd. The singers would come from the high school, and I’m sure we could scrounge up outfits that would work.”
“And I’d be happy to help out with buying costumes, if that’s the only roadblock,” I offered. “Aren’t there places that specialize in providing clothes for wild west reenactors and that kind of thing?”
Josie lit up like a Christmas tree. “There are,” she said, beaming. “I know that because Willis Dale does cowboy shooting. He’d be able to tell us where to look for things.”
“Well, then, that’s settled,” I said. “Unless Miriam puts her foot down or something.”
“She can try,” Josie said darkly. “But I’m certain once we get the word out to all the merchants, they’ll overrule her. That’s the nice thing — everyone in the Chamber gets to have their say, so it’s not a total dictatorship…although I’m sure Miriam would prefer that it was.”
That was good to hear. I’d joined the Chamber of Commerce after the store was up and running because it seemed like the thing to do, but I hadn’t gone to any of the meetings or been involved at all beyond paying my yearly dues. This sounded like another way to give back to Globe…and if I managed to annoy Miriam Jacobsen in the process, all the better.
“I wanted to ask you something,” I said next, realizing that Josie had managed to neatly distract me from my real purpose for dropping by that morning.
That comment earned me a tilt of her head, her light blue eyes sparkling. Josie loved it when people came to her for information or advice.
“What happens if my mother and Tom decide they want to sell the Bigelow mansion?”
Her eyes widened. “Are they really thinking about doing that?”
“They haven’t said so for sure. But I can tell they aren’t thrilled with what’s going on. Still, we can keep this hypothetical for now.”
For a few seconds, Josie didn’t respond, only shuffled the papers on her desk and placed a completed packet off to one side. Her penciled brows drew together, and she said, “Well, it depends on how eager they are to get rid of the place. To get top dollar, we’d have to put it back on the market…and hope no one’s heard about the recent disturbances.”
“Don’t you have to disclose that sort of thing?”
“Technically, yes.” She let out a breath, looking troubled. “And that would be a factor. But if all they want is to unload the property as quickly as possible, then the easiest thing to do would be to go to the buyer they outbid and see if they’re still interested.”
I ran that possibility through my mind and frowned. “Wouldn’t that mean they’d take a hit on the price?”
“Yes,” Josie said simply. “The other buyer’s offer was quite a bit lower than your parents’. Still, it would make the entire situation a lot less complicated if they were to do that, rather than possibly having the place on the market for months.”
I doubted my mother and Tom would find that a very appealing scenario. If they really were going to sell the house, they’d probably want it off their hands as quickly as possible, not hanging like a millstone around their necks for months and months. “Would that even happen, though? My mother made it sound as if the house hadn’t been up for sale for very long before she and Tom bought it.”
Josie shuffled some more papers, more to give her some cover before she had to reply than because she had much left to do in compiling her packets. “It did sell quickly this first time, yes. But if word gets out that something is wrong with the house, and people start to speculate as to why your parents are turning around and selling it so quickly after buying the place, then that could definitely gum up the works.”
I couldn’t really argue with that assessment. People tended to get hinky when it came to supernatural goings-on in a house they planned to make their home. And these were no ordinary ghosts, but a bunch of rowdy demons apparently intent on making sure the Bigelow mansion was uninhabitable.
“Who’s the backup buyer?” I asked next.
“I don’t know,” Josie said, and I blinked at her.
“Come again?”
“It was an out-of-state trust represented by a lawyer,” she told me. “Believe me, I wanted to know who was behind it, but the lawyer — some slick type from Phoenix — wouldn’t give me any information. He told me all I needed to know was that they had the cash on hand to buy the property outright.” A pause there, and she gave another sniff. “Apparently not quite enough cash on hand, however, since your parents outbid them. Anyway, they might suffer a small loss in selling to the backup buyer, but at least they’d be out from underneath the house. Did you want me to reach out to the trust’s lawyer?”
“No,” I said hastily. “My mother and Tom really haven’t decided anything yet. I just thought it would be a good idea to find out what their possible options might be.” I glanced up at the big brass clock on the wall behind Josie’s desk and added, “And now I need to get going. I’ve got to open the store. Thanks, Josie.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied. “I really do feel terrible about the situation, because I can assure you, there wasn’t even the faintest whiff of the supernatural about the Bigelow house when I went in and took all those photos and did that walk-through video for your parents, despite what Hank and Nora always said about the place being haunted. I can’t imagine what happened.”
