A Ghostly Murder by Tonya Kappes

­couple things for the Inn before I came back into the kitchen and the damn pie was back on the counter.” Granny’s voice lowered. “I don’t know how she got it back there so fast.”
    For the first time with this whole pie thing, I believed Granny, though I wasn’t so convinced it was Bea Allen who was taunting her. These repasts were fierce competition.
    â€œI don’t know why, but I believe you.” I watched as Granny’s shoulders deflated and slumped over. “Now, why on earth would Bea Allen want to say you stole her pie?”
    â€œI don’t know. She was at breakfast this morning at the Inn with Jo Francis Ross.” Granny’s hands flailed about. “And I came back in the kitchen and it was there.”
    â€œJo Francis Ross as in Jack Henry’s mom?” I threw my head back.
    This couldn’t be happening. I ran my hand through my hair and ended it with a big stretch. Maybe I needed to go to Pose and Relax for a little stress relief. I bounced my shoulders up and down to try to get the knots out of them. The sound of Jo Francis Ross’s name made me get an instant headache.
    â€œYep,” Granny quipped. “That’s the one.”
    â€œShe hates me.” Sweat gathered on my upper lip just thinking about it.
    â€œHow could she hate you?” Granny put her arms around me and squeezed.
    â€œShe thinks Jack Henry needs to get a girl outside of Sleepy Hollow so he can become a state trooper and get out of this town.” It was a conversation Jack Henry and I had after a few beers at the Watering Hole, a bar on the edge of town, the next county over. I was sure he didn’t mean for it to come out of his mouth, because he profusely apologized after he said it.
    â€œAnd you couldn’t be a state trooper’s wife?” Granny married me off on my first date with Jack Henry.
    â€œWife?” I jumped back. “Aren’t we putting the cart before the horse?”
    â€œHoney, you ain’t getting any younger.” Granny made an observation that hurt but was true.
    â€œAnyway,” I waved her off. It was hard enough to admit my first boyfriend was Jack Henry and nearly impossible to swallow how his mother wasn’t too fond of me. “Why would Bea Allen want to frame you?”
    â€œI don’t know.” Granny’s eyes narrowed. “You have to find out. In the meantime, you have to get the platter back to her house!”
    She pulled her set of keys out of her pocket and dangled them in front of me.
    â€œMe?” I drew back. “Are you kidding?”
    â€œNo.” She extended her arm closer. “Go on. We don’t have all night.”
    â€œYou want me to leave the funeral to replace the dish? Now?”
    â€œCan you think of a better time? Everyone is here, including the sheriff.” She patted a curl here and there.
    Granny must’ve been mad at Jack Henry coming to see her this morning. When she was mad at him, she referred to him as “Sheriff.”
    â€œI’m not going to get into why you are mad at Jack Henry. There is no way I can get over there and back without someone noticing.” I pushed her keys back. “Plus your tire marks are in the dirt next to the bushes there. You do your own dirty work.”
    â€œI thought you said you believed me,” she blazed tightly.
    â€œYour face tells me you didn’t steal the pie. The hard evidence tells me you did.” I held up a finger. “One, the pie was in your garbage. Two,” I held up another finger, “you said it was in your kitchen. And three, tire marks.”
    â€œI told you exactly what I know. I told you how the marks got there. I’m telling you, someone is out to get me.” She closed her mouth when the door opened and Charlotte Rae’s face peeked around the door.
    â€œWhat are you two doing?” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder into the viewing room as