All Dressed Up and No Place to Haunt by Rose Pressey Page A

Song looked up at me.
    â€œDo you like the dress I picked out for the window?” I asked her.
    She meowed, so I took that as a yes.
    â€œYou didn’t answer me,” Alice said.
    â€œThat’s because the answer is no. I can’t ask the detective any questions.”
    â€œCan’t or won’t?” she said.
    â€œBoth,” I said.
    Alice’s voice took on a wheedling tone. “I just want to help you and the dearly departed Nicole. She was wearing my dress, for heaven’s sake. It’s like fate that I should help solve her murder.”
    â€œYou have a strange idea about fate,” I said and returned to my work. After several hours, I’d redesigned the windows and placed recently acquired items on the shelves and racks. Only a few customers wandered in, looked around, and wandered out.
    When five o’clock finally arrived, I was more than ready to head home. Alice was with me, of course, but Charlotte had disappeared again. Maybe someday she’d tell me where she was going all the time. It had only been a short time ago that she couldn’t move away from me; now it seemed she could go where she wanted.

Chapter 8
    Charlotte’s Handy-Dandy Tips for Navigating the Afterlife

    Walking through walls may be strange at first, but it’s a pretty nifty trick.

    I had a simple but tasty dinner of breaded baked chicken and sautéed greens. Alice was pacing the living room floor, but at least she was being quiet. I welcomed the chance to do a little work on my blog. Wind Song was sitting in her favorite spot on the back of the sofa again. Her eyes were closed, but I didn’t think she was really sleeping.
    After blogging about the fun of providing vintage items for the film, I closed my laptop and headed toward my bedroom. It was time to turn in for the night, and I was looking forward to the comfort of my bed. I’d almost made it to the room when my phone rang.
    I raced back to the living room and grabbed my cell. I was expecting it to be either my mother or Heather. They were the only people who called me at that time of the night. Why did Dylan pop into my mind? Of course it wouldn’t be him calling me.
    â€œCookie?” the female voice asked when I answered.
    â€œYes?” I said.
    I wasn’t sure I recognized the woman.
    â€œThis is Shiloh Northcutt. I wanted to discuss returning the clothing when the movie wraps up. Can you meet me at the Plaza Hotel tomorrow morning at nine?”
    â€œSure, I can be there,” I said.
    â€œGreat, I’ll see you then. I’m on the fourth floor. Room 408.” Shiloh hung up.
    This would make Alice and Charlotte happy. I headed for bed, and Alice followed me into the room. This was becoming her routine. This time I was ready for her though. I’d purchased earplugs, which I hoped would drown out her incessant chatter enough for me to get some rest.
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    The next morning, after a much better night’s sleep than my previous one, I dressed in a forties taffeta black skirt with a delicate red-and-white floral pattern. My white cotton blouse had a Peter Pan collar and tiny pearl buttons down the front. Red pumps completed my outfit. I grabbed a white purse and was ready for the meeting. I’d drop Wind Song off at the store and then go to the hotel from there. That meant that I would be opening the store a little later than usual.
    While I drove, I called Heather and asked if she could open my shop for me. We often looked after each other’s businesses.
    â€œAre you kidding?” Heather had asked when I explained why I’d be delayed. “If you’re meeting with Shiloh, I’m coming with you. I don’t want to miss out on the action. We’ll both open late.”
    Since I didn’t want to disappoint Heather, I said, “I’m on my way to your house.”
    I was thankful that I would have another living person coming with me.
    After dropping off Wind