Gossamer Ghost by Laura Childs Page B

ripped off the foil in a grand gesture.
“Laissez les bons temps
rouler!”
Which literally translated to “Let the good times roll.”
    â€œWow!” said Gabby, feasting her eyes.
    On display was a tantalizing collection of peanut butter and cornflake bars, as well as home-baked sugar cookies. The cookies had been cut into Halloween shapes and decorated as red devils, black cats, owls in pirate costumes, white ghosts, orange pumpkins, and even spiderweb cookies.
    Carmela grinned. “They’re almost too pretty to eat!”
    Tandy Bliss, who was short, red-haired, and skinnier than a skeleton, shrieked, “Almost, but not quite!” And with that she grabbed a witch and chomped off its head. “See? Delicious. And melts in your mouth, too.”
    Baby set her bag on the table and focused on Carmela. “I saw you on the news last night.”
    â€œWhat?” said Carmela. This was news to her.
    â€œWell, it was just a quick shot of you and Ava as you were walking away from Oddities,” said Baby. “But I could tell it was you guys.” Baby was fifty-something, with a patrician bearing and a very kind, sweet face. She still went by the moniker of Baby, which had been her sorority nickname way back when.
    â€œOh that,” said Carmela. She made a face. “Yeah. We ran into Zoe and Raleigh from KBEZ-TV. I guess they stole a shot of us after all.”
    â€œAnd then I read in the
Times-Picayune
that you were the one who found poor Mr. Joubert,” said Baby. “That must have been terrifying.”
    â€œCarmela’s not afraid of a dead body,” said Tandy, grabbing another cookie. “Are you, honey?”
    â€œI’m more afraid of a person who turns someone
into
a dead body,” Carmela admitted.
    â€œSo what on earth happened?” said Baby. “Was Napoleon’s death mask really stolen?”
    â€œLooks like,” said Carmela.
    â€œDo you know how preposterous that sounds in this day and age?” said Baby.
    â€œIt was like an art heist,” said Tandy, her eyes glowing. “Those kind of things don’t happen very often, do they?”
    â€œApparently they do,” said Carmela. “Artwork and antiquities are selling for exorbitant prices these days, so I have to believe that museums, historical societies, and private collectors are constantly under siege.” She glanced up and saw Gabby with her mouth set in a grim line.
    â€œWow,” said Tandy. “But tell us about Joubert. So he was already dead when you found him?”
    â€œI’m afraid so,” said Carmela. “But maybe we shouldn’t talk about this anymore. I’m afraid our dear Gabby is feeling a little spooked.”
    â€œI can understand why,” said Baby.
    There was a small commotion at the front of the shop and four more women pushed their way in.
    One woman had a frightened expression on her face and her shoulders were scrunched up practically to her ears.
    â€œWhy is there crime-scene tape on the front of the shop next door?” she asked.
    Gabby seemed to stiffen.
    â€œThat’s got nothing to do with us,” Carmela said in a soothing tone. “Come on back and make yourselves at home. Then we’ll get started.”
    The ladies all seated themselves around the craft table as Carmela piled rolls of cheesecloth on the table.
    â€œFor our first project,” said Carmela, “we’re going to be making cheesecloth ghosts.”
    â€œâ€™Tis the season,” said Tandy.
    Baby smiled. “Isn’t it marvelous how, in New Orleans, Halloween enjoys its own season?”
    â€œIt really does,” said one of the other women who’d just arrived. “Visitors pour in from all over the place to see our Halloween parades and venture out on cemetery tours.”
    â€œThere’s even one of those so-called haunted houses over on Rampart Street,” said the woman who’d been