The Ghosts of Peppernell Manor by Amy Reade

doing in town today?”
    I explained about the leak at the nursery school and told him how we had spent our morning as Lucy complained about how hungry she was.
    â€œI’m heading right over to that deli to grab lunch,” he said, pointing across the street. “Why don’t you join me?”
    â€œI’m hungry now!” Lucy wailed.
    I laughed. “Okay. We’ll come with you. If this child doesn’t eat soon, she might waste away.”
    Heath grinned and the three of us made our way to the deli. Once we had ordered and found seats out on the sidewalk under a bright umbrella, our conversation turned to the places that Heath thought we should visit on our “day off.” Knowing I was interested in history and architecture, he suggested that we first visit Rainbow Row, a string of over a dozen colorful historic homes built on East Bay Street. He also insisted that we visit St. Michael’s Episcopal Church, not far from Rainbow Row, on the corner of Market and Meeting Streets. Built in the mid-1700s, Heath told me, it was the oldest church in Charleston and a National Historic Landmark. I listened as he discussed Charleston’s history and some of the buildings that I simply had to see while I stayed at Peppernell Manor. He was very knowledgeable and I wished he could spend the afternoon with us acting as our own personal tour guide.
    As lunch came to a close and we sipped the last of our sweet tea, a woman walked by our table. She was very tall with jet-black hair that cascaded down her back. A striking white sheath dress and red high-heeled shoes showed off her olive skin and fabulous figure. Heath looked up at her and almost choked on his tea. The woman slowed down, staring at us, then smiled coyly at Heath, tossed her head, and walked on.
    â€œFriend of yours?” I asked Heath.
    â€œNo,” he answered, the tone in his voice brooking no follow-up questions. He gathered up his papers. “I hate to cut this short, but I do have to get back to the office. Court at two o’clock,” he explained.
    â€œNo problem. See you later, and thanks for the history lesson and suggestions,” I told him.
    Lucy walked for a short distance after lunch, but it wasn’t long before she started to get tired. I put her in the stroller and soon she was sound asleep. I was glad it was naptime, since I wanted to get a nice leisurely look at Rainbow Row and St. Michael’s. Lucy might have had other ideas if she had been awake.
    I walked to St. Michael’s, where I was awed by the beauty and grace of the oldest church in Charleston, with its towering white spire, bright red doors, breathtaking stained glass, and ancient cemetery containing the graves of many historic figures from South Carolina, including two signers of the United States Constitution.
    Then I wandered over to Rainbow Row, which I found easily. The street was like something out of a painting; indeed, I had seen many renderings of Rainbow Row in art gallery windows in Charleston. House after pastel house were delightful to see. I enjoyed the architecture and landscaping and the quaint atmosphere aided by antique lampposts, as well as the house markers that told some of the homes’ histories, such as the original owners and the year of construction. Eventually Lucy started to stir in her stroller, so I snapped a few more photos with my phone and we set off for an ice cream shop I had noticed nearby. Once we had eaten our fill of strawberry ice cream, Lucy and I went to one more playground before heading back to Peppernell Manor. It was a great day, and I was almost sorry to get a text that evening that the nursery school would be open the following day.
    That night I told Evie about the prank phone call.
    â€œYou’re kidding,” she responded, mouth agape.
    â€œI wouldn’t joke about that.”
    â€œWho do you think it was?”
    I sighed. “If I only knew, I wouldn’t worry so much