A Dastardly Death in Hillbilly Hollow (Ozark Ghost Hunter Mysteries Book 3)

  A Dastardly Death in Hillbilly Hollow

  Blythe Baker

  Copyright © 2018 by Blythe Baker

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Description

  Newsletter Invitation

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  About the Author

  Description

  In the sleepy town of Hillbilly Hollow, the dead are waking...

  When her cozy hometown is visited by death, Emma’s investigative skills are enlisted by a secretive ghost. But with the uncooperative spirit holding so much back, and with the handsome local doctor pressing Emma for answers, will she ever get to the bottom of the case? Or will the Hollow be forever haunted by the secrets of the past?

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  Chapter 1

  My brain felt foggy as I woke, as if I were swimming through the murky waters at the bottom of Ford’s Cross. I could hear a sound that was at once familiar and strange, muffled and far away. I forced myself to open my eyes and wake up. As I sat up in bed, the sound became clearer, and I knew where it must be coming from.

  “Sugar!” I exclaimed, as I swung my feet around and hung them off the side of the bed. Snowball stirred and looked at me, getting up to follow me downstairs as I slipped on my muck boots and headed outside.

  “Stay here, Snowball,” I said to the little goat as I walked through the back door, and to the end of the porch. I saw the ladder peeking around the edge of the porch, and knew Grandpa was up and already on the job.

  I could hear Grandma singing from atop the roof. She was having one of her funny spells again, sitting on the roof, singing to the chickens.

  “Can I help, Grandpa?” I called up the ladder to him just as he got to the top.

  “Nope. I’ve got ‘er,” he called back down. “Just hold the ladder for me, Emma.”

  I did as he asked, and in just a moment, he was behind her as they both descended the ladder.

  “Come on, Grandma,” I said, wrapping an arm around her to ward off the evening chill. “Let’s get you back to bed.” I looked back to Grandpa and he nodded, picking up the ladder to take it back to the shed.

  “Dolley’s a sassy one, you know,” Grandma said, seemingly randomly, as we walked into the house, her eyes a little glazed over.

  I realized she was talking about Dolley Madison, one of the many chickens Grandma had named after first ladies. I didn’t question the statement.

  “I know, she is sassy,” I agreed as I showed her into her and Grandpa’s bedroom. “Did she have a falling out with Nancy again?” I asked.

  “No, it was Pat! Can you believe it? She’s usually so quiet!”

  I guided her to the bed.

  “Okay, Grandma. Lie down, now. Get some rest. You can sort things out between Dolley and Pat tomorrow.” I pulled the sheet and quilt up over her as she put her head back on the pillow.

  I walked back into the living room and Grandpa was heading toward the bedroom door. “Sorry to wake you, Emma,” he said.

  “Don’t worry about it, Grandpa. It doesn’t happen often. I’m just glad she’s okay. Love you, Grandpa.” I leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight.”

  I climbed the stairs back up to the attic with Snowball right on my heels. I had a lot to do in the days to come. Sunday was the last Old Fort Days event of the year until the Christmas Market started back up in November. I glanced over at my dress, apron, and bonnet, hanging from the clothing rack. My re-enactment role was as a nurse when I was needed, though most of my work for the Historical Society was centered on creating flyers, and managing graphics for the society website. I had a couple of paying graphic design projects to complete as well. Suzy’s wedding was coming up fast, and I needed to free up some time to help her with some of the details.

  My eyes were heavy when I crawled back into bed. I pulled the covers up high, the bed warm, and the early autumn air cool in the attic I called home. Snowball trotted over to the edge of the bed, snuggling down on the little shag rug that lay on the floor beside me. I put my head back on the cool pillow, and snuggled down to get a few more hours of sleep before the morning.

  The weather was getting cooler, and it was time to start getting the farm ready for fall. Since I’d been back home, I’d adjusted to getting up at sunrise, and sometimes even before. With so many things to do on the farm, and everything else that I had going on, despite being tired from Grandma’s late-night serenade, I was up before the sun.

  I pulled on a pair of work pants, my muck boots and a sweatshirt. I wrangled my dark hair up into a ponytail and caught my reflection in the full-length mirror. I couldn’t help but giggle. When I had lived in New York, my daily uniform was trendy dresses, cute jewelry and stylish heels. If the girls from the ad agency could see me now, they would die laughing.

  Grandma had made some ham and biscuits the day before, knowing we would be busy but need a hearty breakfast for the day ahead. Grandma and Grandpa were already at the kitchen table when I came down. I grabbed a cup of coffee and a biscuit from the counter and sat down.

  “Morning, Emma dear! Sleep well?” Grandma asked.

  “I did thanks. You?” I looked at Grandpa who gave me side eye over the corner of his newspaper. He was the last person I knew who read the paper, cover to cover, every single day.

  “Oh, I slept like a newborn babe.” Grandma smiled. “So, how are Suzy’s wedding plans coming along?”

  “It’s going well. I can’t believe we have barely a week before she becomes a married woman. It seems like just yesterday we were walking the stage at high school graduation.” I grinned, happy that my best friend had found her perfect match.

  “Well, a maid of honor’s work is never done! If you need any help, you let me know, dear.” She patted me on the shoulder. “I hear that this event is getting bigger by the day.” Grandma was clearly being fed information from the quilting circle, Hillbilly Hollow’s own gossip chain.

  She had a point, though. Suzy had started off saying they wanted a small, cozy ceremony, something simple with family and friends. Every week, though, the project seemed to grow. I had created adorable invitations and place cards for her, if I do say so myself. Mount Olivet Church, the oldest and largest church in Hillbilly Hollow, had plenty of room for a large crowd of wedding guests, and with its original and ornate nineteenth century bell tower still intact, it would make a beautiful backdrop for photos.

  The reception, however, had to be moved from the fellowship hall due to the strict no-alcohol policy, which would have prevented the toast. Suzy had always dr
eamed of an elegant champagne toast at their wedding, and the Coltons were going to make sure their baby girl’s dream came true. So, after numerous visits to reception venues and much deliberation, Suzy decided on the newly opened venue at Shaffers’ Farm.

  The Shaffers had put a lot of love and care into the old farm-turned-bed and breakfast. The latest addition to the property was the renovation of a massive, two-story barn that had been converted into an event venue. The place would have tables for dining and plenty of space for dancing. There had only been one wedding in the old barn so far, but with the newly renovated interior and strings of soft lights strewn overhead, the photos that Suzy had showed me of the space looked truly magical. Grandma’s information from the quilting circle, at least on the transformation of Suzy and Brian’s wedding from a simple family affair to the event of the year, had been accurate.

  My first chore of the day was winterizing the chicken coop. The beds needed to be insulated with extra hay, and lights had to be set up. The chickens would keep laying as frequently as they had in the summer if we set up lights on timers to fool them into thinking it was still summertime. When it got really cold, we would add some heat lamps, but that would be weeks away yet.

  After the chicken coops were set up, I helped Grandpa clean out the chimney on the wood stove that heated the house. I helped him clean out the firebox of the stove. Since he had already been up on the roof the night before retrieving Grandma and knew better how to keep from making a mess in the house while we cleaned, I got up on the roof.

  I was cautious as I stepped from the top of the ladder onto the shingles. I tended to be clumsy and didn’t think a cast would be the right accessory for my maid of honor dress. Once I got up to the peak of the roof, I stepped toward the center where the chimney was located, and gained some confidence. I thought of Grandma sitting up here in the night, singing her heart out, and wondered how she was able to traverse the incline so effortlessly. I steadied myself above the chimney, and dropped the round brush down, twisting it as Grandpa had shown me. When he yelled up to stop, I went back down the ladder, feeling accomplished.

  After cleaning the stove, I went upstairs and made a few phone calls. I had to make hair appointments for Suzy, her cousin Penelope, and me for the morning of the wedding. Suzy had mentioned that she liked how Cindy Green, who owned Cinderella’s Scissors did her hair for a photoshoot she did for the local paper about her store, so I called and made appointments for the three of us for Saturday morning.

  I also called Kipling Jewelers to check on her gift. I had gotten Suzy and Brian a fancy coffee machine as a wedding gift, but I also had something special on order for Suzy. Grandma had a photo of Suzy, Billy, and me from when we were about eight years old. I had a copy made and took it to Kipling’s. John Kipling, the owner, was reducing the size of the image, and putting it in a locket for me. The inscription inside read, “one for all, all for one,” something the three of us had said since we were kids to signify that we always had each other’s backs. I knew Suzy would love it.

  Chapter 2

  On Sunday morning, I got up and donned my nineteenth century outfit to head down to the Old Fort. The ensemble was mostly authentic, though I did wear a small leather pouch slung across my body to hold my cell phone and car keys. Mr. Littman had called to let me know that they needed a nurse to fill in on Sunday. Sunday would be a full re-enactment day to wrap up the tourist season, with volunteers recreating the last big battle at Fort Harris.

  I pulled in and parked the old farm truck around the back of the main building where volunteers were asked to park out of public view. I dropped my keys into the leather bag and headed to join the rest of the group.

  Betty Blackwood spotted me as I walked up, and marched toward me, hands on her hips.

  “Emma, is that rouge I see on your face? And mascara? That is not historically accurate,” she said accusatorily. I hadn’t heard anyone say rouge instead of blush in, well, ever. I knew that nineteenth-century nurses probably didn’t typically use cosmetics, but hadn’t expected anybody to notice.

  “Sorry, Ms. Blackwood, but I had to have sunscreen, and the mascara just made me feel a little more like myself,” I defended.

  “Hmpf! Next time, do try to keep your costume authentic, won’t you?” She turned and stomped back off into the crowd, to scold someone else no doubt.

  Mr. Littman was wearing his re-enactment gear, and he looked surprisingly natural in the navy-blue knickers, white socks, and blouson shirt. Perhaps it was because he was a history teacher, but the nineteenth-century gear seemed to suit him perfectly. He looked at his clipboard as he made his way through the crowd to me.

  “Hello, Emma. So good to see you, my dear,” he said, smiling broadly.

  “Hi, Mr. Littman. Great to see you as well. What job do you have for me today?” I asked.

  “Well, I’m afraid we are short a nurse, so nurse it is! Head on over to the medical building and they’ll get you set up,” he said with a smile.

  At least I get an interesting job today, I thought.

  There were so many people through the old fort that afternoon, I could hardly believe it. The weather was beautiful, though, and there were exhibitions of everything from soap-making to camp cooking. Periodically, some of the acting soldiers would wander in to the medical building for treatment. We would wrap them with strips of linen and send them on their way. Of course, there were a couple of actual medical issues as well. Mr. Lowery came in a little overheated after having spent too long on the battlefield. Mr. Jenkins came by as well, having cut his hand on the unfinished edge of a pan in the cooking demonstration. None of us were medical professionals, but we kept enough supplies on hand to care for any small emergency that might arise.

  After a very long day at the old fort, I checked my phone to find I had a text from Suzy.

  SUZY: Can u come over

  ME: Just leaving the fort

  SUZY: Pleeeeease! Bridal meltdown

  Suzy had always been bossy, and could wear you down until you saw things her way, but given how stressed she was in these last days leading up to her wedding, I couldn’t tell her no.

  ME: Be right there

  I got in the truck and headed to town. Suzy’s shop would be closed for the day, so I went to her house instead.

  When I arrived, she opened the door and burst out laughing. “You know, Emma, I see you in that getup just rarely enough that it still cracks me up every time. Little Emma on the Prairie!” She laughed hysterically.

  “This is the thanks I get for rushing down here?” I laughed and shook my head.

  “Sorry - you’re right! Come on in,” she said.

  We headed for the dining room, which served as wedding central. There were stacks of bridal magazines, legal pads full of notes, and Suzy’s tablet with inspiring pictures of weddings pulled up. Suzy’s fiancé Brian was temporarily banned from the space. After they had made the major wedding decisions together, which could be interpreted as the decisions for which Brian had both the interest and the energy, Suzy wanted to plan some things on her own and allow Brian to have some surprises on the big day.

  “Okay,” I said as I flopped down in one of the dining room chairs, “what’s the emergency?”

  Suzy sighed heavily and sat down in front of her tablet. “Well, it’s the dress. I’m stuck, Emma. I just can’t pick.” She was as pretty as ever, but there were dark shadows beneath her usually bright eyes. I knew the stress of planning the wedding and the anticipation of the day were wearing on her.

  “Didn’t we go through this weeks ago?” I asked. Suzy and I had narrowed her dress selection down to four of her favorites. I was under the impression that she had already made a final selection.

  “Well…” She looked at me sheepishly. “I actually paid for all four, and said I’d take a refund on whichever ones I decided against.” Her cheeks went a bit pink.

  “Suzy! Are you nuts? I don’t even want to know how much that cost,” I said in disbelief.<
br />
  Suzy wagged her hand back and forth in the air. “That’s the least of my worries, Emma. I’m worried about what I’m going to look like on the only wedding day I plan on ever having. Geez, I’ve waited until I was thirty to tie the knot! I want to get it right,” she said.

  I realized how panicked she was and changed my tone. “Okay, okay. It’s no big deal. We will figure it out,” I said, standing up and stepping behind Suzy to look over her shoulder at the tablet. “These are the four?”

  “Yep, that’s them. Will you go with me tomorrow? I just want to try them all on one more time.” She was looking up at me, and took my hand, just like she used to when we were little and something made her nervous.

  “Of course I will.” I squeezed her hand in mine. “One for all, remember?”

  She heaved a sigh of relief and smiled up at me.

  “I’m so glad you came home, Emma,” she said.

  “Me too, Suz,” I replied.

  Chapter 3

  The next day, I finished the chores I had to do around the farm as early as I could so I could meet Suzy at Blush Boutique, the formalwear store in town, by our 2 pm appointment. Suzy had some nice dresses for an evening out, and even a few that could be cocktail wear, but Blush had full on prom and bridal styles.

  We walked into Blush and were shown to the back of the store, where the bridal section was separated from the off-the-rack prom and evening-wear by an arched doorway covered with a heavy set of pale pink drapes. The area was beautifully designed. Phoebe, the owner, had run a large bridal store in Chicago before meeting Dan Rutherford when he was in town for a conference, falling in love, and moving back with him to Hillbilly Hollow. Phoebe had impeccable taste, and an odd knack for being able to tell before you even took it off the rack whether a dress would look good on your frame and figure.