Who Killed the Ghost in the Library: A Ghost writer Mystery by Teresa Watson Page B

the room.
    We followed Aggie to the front door. Randy and Jo headed for the car, but I stopped to ask Aggie one final question. “Did you kill your husband?”
    Her pale blue eyes flashed fire for a moment, and a sneer made her face look maniacal. Then she slammed the door in my face.

Chapter 16
    “What did you say to her?” Randy asked as we drove away.
    “I asked her if she killed her husband.”
    Jo gasped from the back seat. “You didn’t!” I nodded. “What did she say?”
    “Nothing. But she got this crazy lady look on her face before she slammed the door.”
    Randy whistled. “Sounds like a guilty conscience to me.”
    “We can’t prove anything, and Mike isn’t going to listen to our gut instincts.”
    “Maybe he really did leave on his own,” Jo suggested. “I imagine it was kind of creepy for Ray to be living in a dead man’s guest house while his wife spent all of her time with his ghost.”
    Randy and Jo continued to speculate while I stared out the window into the darkness. None of this made sense, although I was sure this had something to do with Cliff Scott’s death. Could Aggie have hired someone to kill him to keep whatever secret she has? “What if Ray’s disappearance has something to do with Stanley’s death?” I said as Randy parked in my driveway.
    Randy looked over at me. “You think Ray killed him?”
    I shrugged. “It’s a possibility.”
    “Then why did he wait fourteen years to disappear?” Jo said as we got out of the car.
    “A better question is how can Aggie afford to keep the power on at the house, heck, how is she paying for anything?”
    “How much was in his bank account when it was closed in 1969?” Randy asked.
    “It couldn’t have been much, if he hadn’t had a steady job since Aggie started working for the Ashtons.” I shook my head as I unlocked the front door. “We’re coming up with more questions than answers,” I replied, opening the door and flipping on the living room light.
    Jo gasped as the light revealed a huge mess. It looked like a tornado had ripped through the house. Papers were scattered everywhere in the living room.
    “Holy cow,” Randy said. “Go back outside and call Penhall. I’ll look around to make sure no one’s here.”
    I couldn’t make myself move, so Jo grabbed my arm and dragged me outside. She made the call to Mike while I leaned against Randy’ s car, trying to stop shaking. “Are you alright?” she asked as she leaned on the car next to me.
    “I’ve certainly had better days.”
    “Penhall is on his way,” she said as Randy came out of the house.
    “Not sure how they got in,” Randy said. “All the doors and windows are intact . Maybe the lock was picked. And the mess is confined to the living room.”
    I felt it was best to leave this to the professionals, mainly because I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture about interfering in police business. I was pretty sure I was going to get the lecture anyway. I didn’t know how I was going to go back in there. Someone had invaded my personal space. It was going to be a while before I felt comfortable in my own home.
    Mike pulled up ten minutes later. After making sure we were all okay, he took out his gun, a Colt 1911 .45 and entered the house. He came out a few minutes later, his gun back in his holster. “Randy’s right. There’s nothing to indicate how they got in. Are you sure you locked the door when you left?”
    “Positive.”
    “Anyone besides you have a key?”
    “My parents and Randy, who was with me this evening.”
    “And where were you?”
    Glancing at Randy, I said, “Making a social call.”
    “On who?”
    “Agatha Foley.”
    Mike sighed. “I thought I told you to stay out of police business.”
    “Aggie asked me for help, which has absolutely nothing do with your case,” I replied, pushing myself off the car to stand in front of him.
    “Bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?”
    “I can’t help it if you think stupid