Ghosts Beneath Us: A Third Spookie Town Murder Mystery (Spookie Town Murder Mysteries Book 3) by Kathryn Meyer Griffith

color combinations, too. Did you want people to simply come and buy your donuts and leave or would you want to have a counter, barstools, table and chairs for them to stay and eat here as well?”
    “Oh, I want them to stay if they’d want to. Sit at the counter or a table and linger over my donuts and coffee. Visit and chat with everyone. Like they do at Stella’s Diner. I want this to be a welcoming, social place. I like people.” She was smiling wider now, her expression enthusiastic.
    “I’ll do my best to help you make it such a communal oasis. I’ll start mulling over possible renovations right away and let you know what I come up with. Perhaps as soon as tomorrow. I’ll also be here in the morning to watch construction begin. I can’t wait.” And she couldn’t. Studying the room in her mind she could already see its possibilities and how charming it could look when it was done. It was a new adventure. Imagine that. She was going to try her hand at being a decorator.
    The women swapped proposals about colors, tables, floors, barstools and counters. What might look good and what might not. Abigail took pictures on her new cell phone–expensive or not, because of the children, she’d finally gotten one–of the space so she could plan the remodeling layout. The women exchanged telephone and email numbers.
    “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Abigail said before she left.
    “Tomorrow,” Kate replied.
    Abigail was walking away from the shop, shading her eyes from the glaring sun, when Myrtle came around the corner, her rusty red wagon bumping along behind her. She was wearing the same exact clothes as two days before and a tattered straw hat on her head. The wagon was full of junk, or it looked like junk to Abigail. The old woman nearly ran into her. No apologies, though. That wasn’t Myrtle’s way.
    “Why good morning Abigail.” The old woman’s eyes looked at where Abigail had just exited. “I see you met Kate Greenway, the newest addition to our town?”
    “I have. In fact she’s asked me to help her remodel the new bakery and paint some pictures on its walls. She’s opening the donut shop before June and she’d going to live above it.”
    Myrtle’s face cheered up at the mention of donuts and she licked her lips. “Another bakery and more donuts. There can’t never be enough pastries for me. Yippie. By June, you say?”
    “By June.”
    Myrtle glanced once more at the shop. Kate had resumed her sweeping. She stopped for a moment and waved at them through the window’s glass. It looked as if she was waving directly at Myrtle.
    “You know Kate?” Abigail walked beside her friend in the direction of her car.
    “I know the girl. I know her mother far better, you could say. We’re old classmates and sometime friends. Clementine Kitteridge. She lives out there in that haunted cul-de-sac where Beatrice lives.”
    Abigail was surprised. “Kate is Clementine’s daughter?” She knew of Clementine Kitteridge. Everyone in town did. The woman had such a tragic past. Frank had told her about it. Clementine had had a happy family forty years ago until her beloved husband, Abe, and three of her four children had died in a terrible auto accident. A snowy, icy January night and the car had run off the bridge into Turner’s Creek. There’d only be one survivor from that crash and the child, about five years old, had been badly injured.
    “Yep, Kate is the one that lived. But she does have some chronic medical problems and a bum leg. She still walks with a limp. Clementine said she was moving back here from another town to help take care of her. Clementine’s really up there in years, awful lonely these days, and not feeling so well. The daughter’s returned to help her out. I’ve met Kate a few times. I’ll have to go in and see her. Though I didn’t know she was opening a bakery. Great news all around then.”
    “I would say it is. Kate seems like a nice person. A hard worker. I look forward to