A Ghost in Time (Destiny Bay Cozy Mysteries Book 3) by J. D. Winters
Authors: J. D. Winters
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roiling inside Bebe’s tortured mind. But neither of us said a word. We both sat and stared and hoped the horror would begin to fade away, just a little bit.
Michael came by. He’d heard about what had happened but there didn’t seem to be much he could say either. And he had to get to work at the high school, so he didn’t stay long.
Finally I couldn’t stand the awful silence any longer.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go do what Ginny Genera would do.”
Bebe tried to smile but it looked painful. “Why? What would Ginny do?”
“Ginny would run and run and run until there was nothing left but running. Let’s do it.”
She resisted at first, but I wore her down, and little by little she began to see the wisdom in my advice.
“We can run until we’re so tired, we can’t help but sleep,” I said.
She finally managed a real smile. We put on running clothes, but we didn’t have anything like the togs Ginny ran in. No electric neon green. We ran in plain black lycra running shorts and white cotton t-shirts.
“If we really get into this, we’ll have to find out where Ginny buys her running clothes,” I noted. “We wouldn’t want to let her outshine us, would we?”
We threaded our way through the vineyards and then headed up the hill toward the winery where Bebe’s best friend Caroline used to live with her wealthy husband—the one who got himself killed in Bebe’s front yard.
“Whatever happened to Caroline?” I asked as we skimmed by the beautiful home that looked sadly empty now.
“I haven’t heard a word from her,” Bebe said. “The winery is still operational, along with the tasting room, but the house is sitting in moth balls, waiting for someone to come back and live in it again.”
That made me think and even to cringe a little. That was what happened when people in your life died. Everything changed, even if you weren’t close to them before the death. Everything changed—where you lived, how you lived, who you saw, what you thought about things. I could just barely remember how it had been when my mother disappeared.
I didn’t like changes much.
On we ran. It seemed like we’d been running for hours, but we’d barely covered the valley yet. We headed uphill and it was a pretty steep climb, but we made it and we went on, into the fields of Miyake flowers. It was glorious, so beautiful. Everything was just beginning to bloom—tulips and ranunculas and wildflowers—a visual assault of color after color to that made you gasp.
And seeing it seemed to help lift Bebe’s spirits. After all, this was what she was all about, and to see how beautiful her fields were was a real thrill.
She was trying out a new foreman, Manny Gomez. He seemed like a nice guy. We saw him in his little electric cart, scooting up into the fields. He waved and we waved back. From the way he acted, just driving on, I assumed he hadn’t heard about the accident yet. It was eerie to think that most of the town probably didn’t know about what had happened. And yet, to us it was as though a virtual atom bomb had exploded in our lives.
We stopped at the viewing station on the overlook. In one direction, you could see the ocean. In the other, the mountains with their snow-capped peaks. And here, finally, we rested.
I waited, staring out at the beautiful scene and hoping Bebe would talk to me. I knew she needed to unburden herself of some of that awful guilt that was filling her with angst and horror. She needed to let some of that out, air her feelings, try to begin to heal.
“ Just talk to me, Bebe ,” I thought will all my might. “ Just talk .”
And finally, she did.
Chapter Eight
“Mele, this is such a nightmare. I keep going over it again and again in my mind. I keep remembering all the times in my life when I’ve almost slipped, or I almost fell or almost slammed my hand into the car door—and I thought, ‘uh oh, Bebe—better be more careful!
Michael came by. He’d heard about what had happened but there didn’t seem to be much he could say either. And he had to get to work at the high school, so he didn’t stay long.
Finally I couldn’t stand the awful silence any longer.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go do what Ginny Genera would do.”
Bebe tried to smile but it looked painful. “Why? What would Ginny do?”
“Ginny would run and run and run until there was nothing left but running. Let’s do it.”
She resisted at first, but I wore her down, and little by little she began to see the wisdom in my advice.
“We can run until we’re so tired, we can’t help but sleep,” I said.
She finally managed a real smile. We put on running clothes, but we didn’t have anything like the togs Ginny ran in. No electric neon green. We ran in plain black lycra running shorts and white cotton t-shirts.
“If we really get into this, we’ll have to find out where Ginny buys her running clothes,” I noted. “We wouldn’t want to let her outshine us, would we?”
We threaded our way through the vineyards and then headed up the hill toward the winery where Bebe’s best friend Caroline used to live with her wealthy husband—the one who got himself killed in Bebe’s front yard.
“Whatever happened to Caroline?” I asked as we skimmed by the beautiful home that looked sadly empty now.
“I haven’t heard a word from her,” Bebe said. “The winery is still operational, along with the tasting room, but the house is sitting in moth balls, waiting for someone to come back and live in it again.”
That made me think and even to cringe a little. That was what happened when people in your life died. Everything changed, even if you weren’t close to them before the death. Everything changed—where you lived, how you lived, who you saw, what you thought about things. I could just barely remember how it had been when my mother disappeared.
I didn’t like changes much.
On we ran. It seemed like we’d been running for hours, but we’d barely covered the valley yet. We headed uphill and it was a pretty steep climb, but we made it and we went on, into the fields of Miyake flowers. It was glorious, so beautiful. Everything was just beginning to bloom—tulips and ranunculas and wildflowers—a visual assault of color after color to that made you gasp.
And seeing it seemed to help lift Bebe’s spirits. After all, this was what she was all about, and to see how beautiful her fields were was a real thrill.
She was trying out a new foreman, Manny Gomez. He seemed like a nice guy. We saw him in his little electric cart, scooting up into the fields. He waved and we waved back. From the way he acted, just driving on, I assumed he hadn’t heard about the accident yet. It was eerie to think that most of the town probably didn’t know about what had happened. And yet, to us it was as though a virtual atom bomb had exploded in our lives.
We stopped at the viewing station on the overlook. In one direction, you could see the ocean. In the other, the mountains with their snow-capped peaks. And here, finally, we rested.
I waited, staring out at the beautiful scene and hoping Bebe would talk to me. I knew she needed to unburden herself of some of that awful guilt that was filling her with angst and horror. She needed to let some of that out, air her feelings, try to begin to heal.
“ Just talk to me, Bebe ,” I thought will all my might. “ Just talk .”
And finally, she did.
Chapter Eight
“Mele, this is such a nightmare. I keep going over it again and again in my mind. I keep remembering all the times in my life when I’ve almost slipped, or I almost fell or almost slammed my hand into the car door—and I thought, ‘uh oh, Bebe—better be more careful!
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