Murder Vows (Storage Ghost Murders Book 4) by Gillian Larkin Page A

her.
    Jessie
smiled and said, “Is this a good time?”
    “Of
course. This is Frankie, my brother.” Grace and Jessie looked at Frankie.
Grace’s hand itched, she longed to reach over and close his mouth.
    “Hi,
Frankie. I’m Jessie, I’m here to look at your room.”
    Frankie
blinked and, thankfully, closed his mouth. “Pardon? You want to go to my
bedroom?”
    Grace
shook her head. “I’ve asked Jessie to give me a quote to convert the stockroom
so that you can have proper accommodation.”
    Frankie
stood up straighter. He addressed Grace but his eyes never left Jessie.
“Really? My room?”  
    Grace
could see she wasn’t going to get any sense out of Frankie. She said to Jessie,
“It’s upstairs, follow me. Oh! Frankie, you said you wanted a rest.”
    Frankie
stood up even taller, he puffed his chest out, lifted his chin and, in an
unusually deep voice, said, “I don’t need a rest. I could work all day without
stopping. You two girls go upstairs, I’ll take care of business here.”
    Grace
saw Jessie’s mouth twitch.
    “This
way,” Grace said to Jessie.
    Once
they were out of ear-shot Grace apologised for her brother.
    Jessie
waved her hand. “Doesn’t matter, he’s sort of cute.”
    Grace
wasn’t sure about that. She took Jessie into the stockroom. Jessie took her
notepad out and began scribbling on it. She had some electronic device that she
pointed at the walls. Grace presumed it was to measure them. Grace discreetly
looked around the room and out on to the landing. There was no sign of Archie or
Pearl.
    Jessie
looked at her notepad. “It won’t take too much work. Do you still need a
stockroom? This room’s big enough for both, we could put a dividing wall in.”
    “That
sounds good. Oh! I haven’t offered you a cup of tea. Would you like one?”
    Jessie
put her notepad away. “I’d love one, thanks. What kind of business are you
running? You’ve got a real mix of stuff.”
    “We
buy things from storage locker auctions, you never know what’s going to be
inside a locker.”
    Jessie
gripped Grace’s arm. Grace tried not to flinch. This elfin-faced woman had a
strong grip. Jessie’s eyes shone as she said, “Storage locker auctions? Like
those that are on the TV?”
    “Exactly.”
    Jessie’s
grip tightened. “I love those shows! I watch them all the time. My favourite
auctioneer is one that looks like Elvis Presley.”
    “Sylvester
Sylver? He does the auctions nearby, we’ve met him several times. Frankie’s a
big fan of his.”
    Jessie
released her grip. Her mouth formed a huge ‘O’. “I can’t believe it! You have
to tell me more.”
    Grace
turned towards the door. “I’ll tell you over a cup of tea, we’ve got a small
kitchen downstairs. Do you need to look at anything else up here?”
    “No.
Have you spoken to Sylvester Sylver?”
    Grace
smiled. Jessie sounded like a female version of Frankie. Her smile faltered.
She hoped Jessie wasn’t the one who murdered Archie, she seemed far too nice.
    Grace
settled Jessie at the kitchen table and then turned her attention to the
kettle. Talking about the auctions would be a good way to introduce the subject
of Archie’s suitcase. And the hammer necklace, she had to mention that. Grace
paused. This was going to be awful. She felt as if she was tricking Jessie.
    It
had to be done.
    Grace
made the tea, brought out a plate of biscuits and sat down opposite Jessie.
Jessie had a million questions about the storage business. Grace answered them
all, waiting for an opportunity to mention the suitcase.
    An
opportunity arose when Jessie asked, “What unusual things have you found?”
    Grace
put her cup down, steeled herself and stood up. She casually said, “I found
something on Sunday, it’s sort of sad really. Let me show you.”
    Trying
to keep her shaking hands steady Grace opened the cleaning cupboard and took
out Archie’s suitcase. She placed it on the table in front of Jessie.
    Jessie’s
smile died, the colour drained