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“Could be. What better way to give yourself an alibi than to be waiting in plain sight for your intended while they were being murdered?” She hesitated, then said, “Would you consider wearing a wire? He might clam up if he thinks the cops are in on this, but if he thinks it’s a civilian, well…”
“You think if he had anything to do with it, he might slip and admit something?” I didn’t really feel like being wired up for a simple meeting, but Millie made a good point.
“Again, could be. It’s been what…fifty-seven years since Janet’s death. People get careless. You’d save us some time and trouble. I don’t usually open up cold cases without a good reason, given the budget and our manpower, but given this one kind of fell into our laps, we might as well have a look at it.” She leaned her elbows on the table. “I like to think there are reasons for things, so maybe we need to have a good look at it. We have tools at our disposal they never even dreamed of in 1966.”
“All right,” I said. “What do I have to do?”
“Come here before heading out to meet Sirus. We’ll wire you up. You then go talk to him as you would normally, and we’ll feed you a few questions to ask along with your own.” She stood. “If you’re good with the idea, I’ll have the guys prepare a unit. We’ll station a car around the corner, listening in, so if you feel in danger, we’ll use a safe phrase that tells us you need help.”
I realized that I was actually relieved that someone would be there with me, and agreed to return to the station at six-fifteen so they could prepare me. Then, bidding Millie goodbye, I headed out for the rest of the day.
* * *
As I left the station it was nearing noon, so I decided to stop back in at the bridal shop. I waved at Sally, the consultant. She was waiting on another would-be bride, but handed the woman over to an assistant and headed toward me.
“Still love the dress, I hope? That’s going to be stunning on you.”
“Yeah,” I said. “About that. I’m not wearing the dress—”
She promptly interrupted me. “We don’t take returns on dresses, especially pre-owned—”
“Relax, I’m not bringing it back. But I’ll need to find another one. Preferably a new dress, one that hasn’t been worn before.” I hated to admit that I was spooked. At first, before I realized that Janet had actuallydiedin the dress, I thought it was perfect. Now, not so much.
“Is there something about the style you don’t like?”
I wasn’t overjoyed about breaking the news to Sally that the dress was haunted, but figured it wouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like I was trying to return it. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but it came with a ghost.”
“Say what?” Sally stared at me, her glasses slipping down her nose.
“The dress is haunted. I found out it belonged to a woman who was murdered in it.”
The look on Sally’s face was enough to make me smile. “Oh good grief,” she exclaimed. “Bring it back. I can’t let you keep that. We had no idea. The woman who consigned it said that she found the dress in a trunk in her new house. We had no idea someone diedinthe dress! Even worse, that she was murdered.” Another thought appeared to cross her mind. “Please don’t tell anyone we sold that to you! If we had known about it, we never would have accepted it. Let me write you up a return—”
“No, that’s not necessary. You shouldn’t be out the money simply because I can talk to ghosts.” I paused, then added, “I don’t want the ghost to be stuck here. She’s attached to the dress and can’t go far from it. At least not until I can figure out a way to release her from it. But youcanhelp me find a gown as beautiful, within my price range.”
Sally thought for a moment, then said, “I know there are similar gowns out there. They’re usually used for ballgowns, but let me see what I can find. I’ll email you over some possibilities. And you’ll get a 25 percent discount on whatever gown you choose. How about that?”
I finally accepted because I saw that it meant a lot to her to make up for what she considered poor service. “All right, that sounds good. If there’s any way to find a gown in that color, or with a similar look, I’d appreciate it.” After giving her my email address, I headed back out.
* * *
That evening, around seven, I parked in front of Violet’s Tea Dreams Shop. The wire felt odd, tucked into the back of my shirt. I’d purposely worn a loose tank top so that it wouldn’t show, but the minuscule size of it had surprised me—it might as well have been invisible.
Killian hadn’t been keen on my visit to Sirus, either. He thought it was a mistake and had been loud and clear on the subject. But finally, I told him I’d be wired up and, knowing the police were involved, he had relented.
I sucked in a deep breath, looking at the pale lilac exterior. The tea shop was situated in what had once been a house on a small lot. The backyard had been turned into a parking lot, and the entrance was in the back as well, although there was a side entrance for those coming from off the sidewalk.
The tea shop itself still had that “house” look. Trimmed in leaf green, it was a two-story, and by the look of the windows on the second floor, Sirus—or someone—lived upstairs above the shop. The wraparound porch was covered with plants. Pots of African violets, big containers holding hydrangeas and geraniums, ferns nestling next to herbs in planter boxes—all ringed the porch in a lush array.
I darted up the five steps to the porch and walked over to the door. Apparently, the tea shop was open till seven-thirty. As I entered the dining room, an odd sense of peace descended around me. It was as if there was a stress-dampener in the room. To the left, against the wall, was a massive aquarium and I found myself mesmerized by the fish, so much so that I missed seeing the woman coming up to wait on me.
“May I help you? Table for one?”
Her words cut through my thoughts and, startled, I turned back to face her. “I’m sorry, I was looking around. This is a beautiful shop.”
“Thank you. Table for one?”
I shook my head. “I have an appointment to talk to Sirus Barker. He’s expecting me.”
