The Stubborn Schoolhouse Spirit (The Penelope Pembroke Cozy Mystery Series) by Judy Nickles Page B

Bogart and Ingrid Bergman— Casablanca ?”
    “Yes.” She breathed in the unexpected clean scent of his grubby-looking clothes. He hadn’ t been on the road long this time.
    “A t the end, they have to say goodbye because of circumstances neither one of them can change.”
    “Yes.”
    “That’s us, Nell.”
    “Then stop coming into my gin joint. There are others in the world.”
    He chuckled. “You’re a sharp gal.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her twice, then a third time with a longing she could feel down to her bones. “I want you,” he murmured. “I want you more than I’ve wanted anybody in a long, long time.”
    “That’s not enough,” she murmured, but she didn’t resist his lips coming down on hers for a fourth time.
    “It has to be for now.”
    “How long is now?”
    “I can’t tell you.” He sat back away from her again and took a deep breath. “I need to know about the woman at your table.”
    “ Marlo Howard?”
    “If that’s her name. Tell me about her.”
    “I don’t know much. She’s a friend of the Dancers, lives in Little Rock, and wants to open an antique store and art gallery here in Amaryllis.”
    “Okay, thanks.”
    “I thought you’d already left when she came.”
    “I was around.”
    “Then you know what happened to the fireplace.”
    “I saw the fire blaze up and then go out.”
    “It didn’t just go out. It was like somebody turned it off. Did you hear the noise?”
    “What noise?”
    “Somebody moaning like they were in agony. You had to hear that.”
    He hesitated. “I heard something, but it wasn’t human.”
    “The fireplace was part of a house built by the town’s founder, Jeremiah Bowden. Apparently his sister taught at the school and lived in the house before it burned down. Whoever built on the site covered up the fireplace, and the Dancers found it when they were remodeling.”
    “Rock fireplaces usually survive.”
    “Daddy says the school is haunted by the ghost of Jeremiah Bowden.”
    “Do you believe that?”
    “I didn’t, but the other day when I was out there with Mary Lynn and Shana, we went down to the basement to look at the boiler, and we definitely heard voices.”
    “What kind of voices?”
    “Just voices. Maybe children’s voices. It was a school, after all.”
    “You just imagined it.”
    “I did not! We all heard them.”
    “I wish your friend would wait on that community center project, but if she won’t, I wish you wouldn’t get involved.”
    “You’ll have to give me a better reason than that.”
    “I can’t, Nell.”
    “We’re going ahead.”
    “I can’t stop you.”
    “I don’t really believe in ghosts, but I did hear those voices in the basement. And I heard that horrible sound coming from the fireplace tonight.”
    “I can’t help you. I deal in hard cold facts. Tell me about the manager your son hired to run the farm.”
    “How did you know about him?” Penelope tried to see Sam’s face in the moonlight, but it remained shadowy.
    “Just tell me about him.”
    “I don’t know anything really. He’s young. Seems nice.  You don’t think he’s another drug dealer, do you?”
    “Do you happen to know his name?”
    “Chuck Runyon.  Bradley says he had good references.”
    “Where’d he come from?”
    “He grew up on a farm in Mississippi and majored in agriculture at Ole Mis s. Oh, and he minored in business and art.”
    “Art.”
    “He was telling us about some portraits he saw hanging above the stairs at the Point. He wants Bradley to get them appraised and be sure they’re insured. Oh, and he thinks the house should have an alarm system.”
    “He does, does he?”
    “That’s what he said. Do you need a place to sleep tonight?”
    “Is the back bedroom available?” He put the tip of his finger on her nose and grinned.
    “The front one is. All I did was make up the bed.”
    “Hoping I’d be back, huh?”
    “Don’t push your luck with me Tiny Sam.”
    He grinned