Wilmington, NC 03 - Murder On The Ghost Walk by Ellen Elizabeth Hunter Page A
Authors: Ellen Elizabeth Hunter
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think it's true?"
"Yes, I do Teddy. The detective who told me was positive."
"So that's where they've been all these years. I can't believe it. But what about the postcards? Who sent them?"
"I guess it was the murderer. Do you know anyone who hated them enough to kill them? Everyone says they were very popular and had lots of friends."
Teddy's wet eyes met mine. "I know someone who was afraid of Reggie. Afraid enough to kill. His next door neighbor, Sherman Warner. Reggie had something on Sherman that would have ruined him. It has to be Sherman. There's no one else."
16
When I drove to Campbell House the next morning, I found work progressing rapidly. Plumbers, electricians, and carpenters were practically tripping over each other in their haste to get things done. After I verified everyone was doing what he was supposed to, I joined Willie Hudson out on the back porch steps.
He greeted me heartily. "That detective was messing round here early this morning, Miz Wilkes."
" Detective Yost? And when are you going to start calling me Ashley?"
"When you start calling me Mr. Hudson."
I gave his arm a playful jab. "The detective, Mr. Hudson?"
"Yeah, Yost. That's the one."
"What did he want?"
"Asking about the missing key. Wanted to check the front door lock. Took all the keys and tried each one hisself. I told him he was wasting his time, the key was gone."
"Don't let it bother you, he's just being thorough." He didn't take my word for it either, I thought. I lifted my face to the sun. "It's a nice day. I think I'll take a little walk."
"I gotta get back inside," Willie said, rising slowly. "Gotta keep an eye on my crew. I got eight of 'em in there now. The work'll go fast. We'll meet that deadline, Miz Wilkes."
"Yes, we will, Mr. Hudson."
I walked east. The house on the corner, circa 1851, was one of the first Italianate style houses to be built in Wilmington. Sherman and Muffie Warner's house. Any other time I'd stop to admire the architectural details, but this morning there was too much on my mind.
An alley ran from the back of the Campbell property to the street around the corner. I crossed Orange and started back on the opposite side. Mrs. Burns' broad front porch looked out over the street. The house was closed up. I wondered if she was at home. I wondered if she had remembered any other details about that night. Probably she slept during the day because she couldn't sleep at night. Should I take a chance and knock on her door? Oh, why was I bothering with all this? So there'd been murders here six years ago. They had nothing to do with me. The restoration was going well. That's all I cared about. Let the police investigate the murders. That was their job.
Across the street, Campbell House was a beehive of activity, with workers making trips back and forth to their trucks or to the two constructions dumpsters in the rear alley. The sounds of construction filled the morning, music to my ears.
Nick and I treated each other with stiff courtesy as we drove to Thalian Hall that night. I stole quick glances at him. He looked handsome in a formal, navy suit.
He cleared his throat and said, "Ashley, I don't know what went wrong. I thought we got off to a good start. I want us to be friends. If I've offended you in some way, I apologize."
I decided to be straight with him. "I thought we were becoming friends too, Nick. Then I found out the real reason you befriended me was so you could use me tonight."
When we stopped at a traffic light on Market Street, he turned my way. "Ashley, you're the one who offered to help me investigate the murders. Remember?"
Well, yes, I had done that.
"I just took you up on your offer. I didn't have a hidden agenda when we were having dinner at t he Bridge Tender." He gave me a smile. There were those cute dimples again. "I enjoyed being with you. No ulterior motive."
Everything he said was correct.
"I'd like to see you again. I'm off tomorrow afternoon. How about taking in Ri
"Yes, I do Teddy. The detective who told me was positive."
"So that's where they've been all these years. I can't believe it. But what about the postcards? Who sent them?"
"I guess it was the murderer. Do you know anyone who hated them enough to kill them? Everyone says they were very popular and had lots of friends."
Teddy's wet eyes met mine. "I know someone who was afraid of Reggie. Afraid enough to kill. His next door neighbor, Sherman Warner. Reggie had something on Sherman that would have ruined him. It has to be Sherman. There's no one else."
16
When I drove to Campbell House the next morning, I found work progressing rapidly. Plumbers, electricians, and carpenters were practically tripping over each other in their haste to get things done. After I verified everyone was doing what he was supposed to, I joined Willie Hudson out on the back porch steps.
He greeted me heartily. "That detective was messing round here early this morning, Miz Wilkes."
" Detective Yost? And when are you going to start calling me Ashley?"
"When you start calling me Mr. Hudson."
I gave his arm a playful jab. "The detective, Mr. Hudson?"
"Yeah, Yost. That's the one."
"What did he want?"
"Asking about the missing key. Wanted to check the front door lock. Took all the keys and tried each one hisself. I told him he was wasting his time, the key was gone."
"Don't let it bother you, he's just being thorough." He didn't take my word for it either, I thought. I lifted my face to the sun. "It's a nice day. I think I'll take a little walk."
"I gotta get back inside," Willie said, rising slowly. "Gotta keep an eye on my crew. I got eight of 'em in there now. The work'll go fast. We'll meet that deadline, Miz Wilkes."
"Yes, we will, Mr. Hudson."
I walked east. The house on the corner, circa 1851, was one of the first Italianate style houses to be built in Wilmington. Sherman and Muffie Warner's house. Any other time I'd stop to admire the architectural details, but this morning there was too much on my mind.
An alley ran from the back of the Campbell property to the street around the corner. I crossed Orange and started back on the opposite side. Mrs. Burns' broad front porch looked out over the street. The house was closed up. I wondered if she was at home. I wondered if she had remembered any other details about that night. Probably she slept during the day because she couldn't sleep at night. Should I take a chance and knock on her door? Oh, why was I bothering with all this? So there'd been murders here six years ago. They had nothing to do with me. The restoration was going well. That's all I cared about. Let the police investigate the murders. That was their job.
Across the street, Campbell House was a beehive of activity, with workers making trips back and forth to their trucks or to the two constructions dumpsters in the rear alley. The sounds of construction filled the morning, music to my ears.
Nick and I treated each other with stiff courtesy as we drove to Thalian Hall that night. I stole quick glances at him. He looked handsome in a formal, navy suit.
He cleared his throat and said, "Ashley, I don't know what went wrong. I thought we got off to a good start. I want us to be friends. If I've offended you in some way, I apologize."
I decided to be straight with him. "I thought we were becoming friends too, Nick. Then I found out the real reason you befriended me was so you could use me tonight."
When we stopped at a traffic light on Market Street, he turned my way. "Ashley, you're the one who offered to help me investigate the murders. Remember?"
Well, yes, I had done that.
"I just took you up on your offer. I didn't have a hidden agenda when we were having dinner at t he Bridge Tender." He gave me a smile. There were those cute dimples again. "I enjoyed being with you. No ulterior motive."
Everything he said was correct.
"I'd like to see you again. I'm off tomorrow afternoon. How about taking in Ri
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