scrubbed up and sanitized my hands, and then fixed myself a bowl of fresh blueberries and yogurt topped with chopped walnuts. And a strong pot of coffee.
Then I showered, put on sunscreen, and dressed for the day in white Capris, a lacey tank, and a sheer floral blouse. A little bit of sheer mineral powder, some mascara, and lipstick, and I was ready for my day. I slipped my Sig Sauer 9 inside my Kate Spade bag. I typically took Sig along as a precaution when hunting folks with violent tendencies. A murderer and a burglar were presumably still on the island. You just never knew what the day might bring.
I was standing at the top of the stairs, one foot halfway to the first step, when Colleen appeared, perched on the banister. She was dressed for spring in a calf-length, yellow polka-dot dress that buttoned down the front. Startled by both her sudden appearance and the dress itself, I nearly fell down the steps. I grabbed the rail to steady myself.
“It looks like the one I had junior year, doesn’t it?” she asked.
“Remarkably.”
“That’s the great thing about being dead. You can wear whatever you want by just thinking about it.”
“Think about something different.”
Her face clouded. “I like this dress.”
The dress had looked much different on Colleen when she was alive. The buttons had pulled across her ample chest and stomach. “Stuffed sausage,” Mackie Sullivan and his friends had called her. Teenagers were no less cruel in Stella Maris than anywhere else. Colleen had gone through an awkward stage starting at twelve and lasting until her death in the violent currents of Breach Inlet. She was my best friend, and the memory of the taunts, teasing, and pranks she’d suffered came flying back at the sight of that yellow dress.
As a ghost, Colleen was svelte, her skin unblemished and radiant. “Deanna’s in trouble,” she said.
“Deanna? First Merry, now Deanna?”
“Stop by the hardware store.”
“I’ve got to go to Charleston this morning—”
“Please.”
I glanced at my watch. I had plenty of time. I’d planned on dropping by to see Deanna before the day was over anyway, just to say hi. Besides, Adam Devlin would be at the hardware store, too. He was on my list. “All right,” I said. “But change your dress.”
The hardware store had been in Deanna’s family since her great-grandfather first opened the doors back in 1903. It had been modernized over the years, but still had the look of an old-fashioned, small-town hardware store: wood floors, neat rows of tall shelves, and an eclectic mix of merchandise. Deanna had kept the books for Island Hardware ever since she and Adam were married, when her daddy started training Adam to take over for him.
An electronic door chime announced my entrance. Deanna was busy behind the counter, preparing for the day’s business. Petite, with shoulder-length, honey-colored hair, Deanna didn’t favor Colleen at all, but she was her sister, and connected to all my Colleen memories. Well, the ones from before she died, anyway.
Deanna’s face lit up when she saw me. “Liz, I heard you were home.” She rushed around the counter for a hug. “It’s just been too long. I barely got to speak to you at the funeral—so many people.” She held me at arms-length, but didn’t let go.
“Hey, Deanna.” My eyes misted over. “It has been too long. But…I’m home to stay.”
“Ohmygosh. I’m so glad.”
I looked around, wondering where Adam was. “So…you’re still keeping the books and all?”
“Yeah, but I prefer the ‘and all’ to the bookkeeping. Today we had a sales clerk call in sick, so I’m out front.” She patted my arm and released me. “I like the decorating department—you know, paint, wallpaper, floor-covering, stuff like that. I thought about going to school for interior design, but, well, there just hasn’t been time.”
“How’s Adam?”
Deanna’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s fine.” She
Then I showered, put on sunscreen, and dressed for the day in white Capris, a lacey tank, and a sheer floral blouse. A little bit of sheer mineral powder, some mascara, and lipstick, and I was ready for my day. I slipped my Sig Sauer 9 inside my Kate Spade bag. I typically took Sig along as a precaution when hunting folks with violent tendencies. A murderer and a burglar were presumably still on the island. You just never knew what the day might bring.
I was standing at the top of the stairs, one foot halfway to the first step, when Colleen appeared, perched on the banister. She was dressed for spring in a calf-length, yellow polka-dot dress that buttoned down the front. Startled by both her sudden appearance and the dress itself, I nearly fell down the steps. I grabbed the rail to steady myself.
“It looks like the one I had junior year, doesn’t it?” she asked.
“Remarkably.”
“That’s the great thing about being dead. You can wear whatever you want by just thinking about it.”
“Think about something different.”
Her face clouded. “I like this dress.”
The dress had looked much different on Colleen when she was alive. The buttons had pulled across her ample chest and stomach. “Stuffed sausage,” Mackie Sullivan and his friends had called her. Teenagers were no less cruel in Stella Maris than anywhere else. Colleen had gone through an awkward stage starting at twelve and lasting until her death in the violent currents of Breach Inlet. She was my best friend, and the memory of the taunts, teasing, and pranks she’d suffered came flying back at the sight of that yellow dress.
As a ghost, Colleen was svelte, her skin unblemished and radiant. “Deanna’s in trouble,” she said.
“Deanna? First Merry, now Deanna?”
“Stop by the hardware store.”
“I’ve got to go to Charleston this morning—”
“Please.”
I glanced at my watch. I had plenty of time. I’d planned on dropping by to see Deanna before the day was over anyway, just to say hi. Besides, Adam Devlin would be at the hardware store, too. He was on my list. “All right,” I said. “But change your dress.”
The hardware store had been in Deanna’s family since her great-grandfather first opened the doors back in 1903. It had been modernized over the years, but still had the look of an old-fashioned, small-town hardware store: wood floors, neat rows of tall shelves, and an eclectic mix of merchandise. Deanna had kept the books for Island Hardware ever since she and Adam were married, when her daddy started training Adam to take over for him.
An electronic door chime announced my entrance. Deanna was busy behind the counter, preparing for the day’s business. Petite, with shoulder-length, honey-colored hair, Deanna didn’t favor Colleen at all, but she was her sister, and connected to all my Colleen memories. Well, the ones from before she died, anyway.
Deanna’s face lit up when she saw me. “Liz, I heard you were home.” She rushed around the counter for a hug. “It’s just been too long. I barely got to speak to you at the funeral—so many people.” She held me at arms-length, but didn’t let go.
“Hey, Deanna.” My eyes misted over. “It has been too long. But…I’m home to stay.”
“Ohmygosh. I’m so glad.”
I looked around, wondering where Adam was. “So…you’re still keeping the books and all?”
“Yeah, but I prefer the ‘and all’ to the bookkeeping. Today we had a sales clerk call in sick, so I’m out front.” She patted my arm and released me. “I like the decorating department—you know, paint, wallpaper, floor-covering, stuff like that. I thought about going to school for interior design, but, well, there just hasn’t been time.”
“How’s Adam?”
Deanna’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s fine.” She
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