Little Ghost Lost (Destiny Bay Cozy Mysteries Book 5) by J.D. Winters

a moan to keep the hair on the back of my neck rising, but I knew it had no supernatural explanations. It was just the wind.  
    Jill shook her head, marveling at it. “You don’t expect that from a light autumn breeze,” she noted, giving me a quick smile. “My gosh, we’d better settle down. We haven’t even gone in yet and already we’re jumping at every noise. It doesn’t even take a real ghost to get to us.”
    “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” I muttered as I unlocked the door. But my confidence was coming back. I led her inside as though I was the homeowner himself. And in a way, I was tied to the place. After all, it was my project.  
    And it was fun showing off the lovely old mansion to her. She was an appreciative audience, speculating on the history and imagining how things had been once, in the days when the house was young.  
    “Wow,” she said when I ushered her into the large room I’d decided was once a ballroom.  
    “Nowadays, you would probably turn it into a home gym,” I said. “But I’ll bet this place was wonderful once upon a time. Can’t you imagine the strains of a Strauss waltz echoing in these halls? Can’t you picture the beautiful gowns? The handsome gentlemen?”
    “Oh yes, imagine the events they must have had here, the receptions, the soirees. The dinner table full of great people of that age.”
    I laughed at her. “What great people?”
    “I don’t know. It just has that feel to it.”
    I had my own opinion, from what I knew of the Penningtons. I somehow doubted that too many “great people” might have been on their guest list. I sighed, looking around the room. Piles of broken chairs and plundered couch cushions were stacked against the far exit.  
    “It would have a lot more of that feel if it had some of the old furniture left in decent shape.”
    “Who took it away?”
    “You got me.” I frowned. “I don’t know enough about all the circumstances to make a good guess. But…” I hesitated. I really had no reason or right to speculate at this point, but Jill was my sounding board for most things. Why not this too?  
    “Mr. Pennington died about two years ago. Celinda’s antiques consultant told me he thought the old man had spent years before that slowly pawning or selling the good furniture, piece by piece, to pay the bills. But I wonder…”
    Jill looked wise. “If that consultant knew a bit more than he was telling?”
    I shrugged. “Or Celinda’s husband even. He’s some sort of collector.”
    “Or was.”  
    We exchanged a rueful glance.  
    “True.”
    I showed her the morning room and the library and the dining room and the den—which had been fixed up as an office with a huge old secretary against the wall. It was in bad shape, but it still had all its little drawers.  
    “I’ve always wanted one of these,” I said, smiling at it.  
    “Can you imagine all the things you could put in those drawers?” Jill agreed.  
    “And probably never find them again,” I said. “But it’s good to organize. Organization is the key to everything.”
    She gave me a thumbs up and we headed for the kitchen. My heart began to beat a little faster as I anticipated seeing the baseball fan ghost sitting at the old radio again, but when we turned the corner and walked in, the place was empty. In fact, I hadn’t seen the hint of a ghost anywhere today.
    A thought flickered into my mind. What if just the fact that I had Jill with me was shielding me from the spirit world? Could be. If so, I was going to bring her every time I came.
    On to the laundry porch. An ancient washer and drier sat side by side.  
    “These must be about fifty years old,” I said. “You’d think they would have updated at some point.”
    “Maybe they sent all their laundry out,” Jill said. “Lots of rich people used to do that.”
    For some unknown reason I pulled open the dryer and we both stared at the contents. Reaching in, I pulled out a beautiful negligee