The Ghastly Ghost of Hillbilly Hollow (Ozark Ghost Hunter Mysteries Book 2) Read online

  The Ghastly Ghost of 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

  Excerpt

  About the Author

  Description

  In Hillbilly Hollow, even the dead want the last word ...

  When an eccentric local artist meets an untimely end during the annual Flower Festival, Emma gets pulled into two cases at once. First, the murder investigation. Second, the hunt for a dangerous burglar who has the whole town on edge.

  After all-brawn-and-no-brains Sheriff Tucker declares the death an accident, Emma’s search for the killer hits a dead end ... until a vengeful ghost comes calling. Can Emma decipher the mad ramblings of the disgruntled spirit?

  ________________________________

  Newsletter Invitation

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  Chapter 1

  There was always something special about summertime in Hillbilly Hollow. Lightning bugs danced in the glow of early evening, the smell of honeysuckle wafted through open windows, and the flowers were in full bloom. As I drove into town, I had the windows down in the old truck, and my sunglasses on. The sights and smells of a country summer filled my senses as the radio blared an old rock song and I sang along at the top of my lungs.

  I’d been back in Hillbilly Hollow for several weeks, and was getting back into the rhythm of farm life, and enjoying being part of the community. There were still so many things I missed about New York, but I had forgotten how much fun I’d had growing up in a small town. The local ice cream shop had better ice cream than I’d ever had anywhere else. Main Street was always festooned with lights and garlands at Christmastime, and everyone always rallied around the local sports teams to support the local kids. There were so many things I had taken for granted when I was young, before wanderlust pulled me away to the bright lights of the big city.

  When I got to Main Street, signs were hanging from the lampposts announcing the upcoming Hillbilly Hollow Flower Festival.

  Grandpa had asked me to pick up chicken feed and some building supplies while I ran errands in town. I didn’t mind running to town for this or that, or to see my friends. The distance between our farm and town had seemed like it took forever when I first got home. Now, I went to town almost every day. After all, a girl can only spend so much time on the farm with her grandparents before she starts to go a bit stir crazy.

  The streets were a little busier than usual, with tourists starting to trickle in for the start of the Flower Festival. The local hotel, The Hollow Inn, was over a hundred years old, and a stagecoach stop had stood on that site before it. There was still a little restaurant on the first floor of the hotel which served breakfast and lunch. During the summer when there were lots of tourists in town for festivals and for Old Fort Days, the hotel was always full. Further out, an entrepreneurial family from St. Louis, the Shaffers, had bought the old Stephenson farm and converted it to a bed and breakfast, putting six little cottages on the property in addition to the huge, old farmhouse. The property had been featured in the Missouri tourist guide the year before and had gotten more popular since, often booking up solid in the summer.

  The local feed and supply store, Farm King, was at the far end of Main Street, past the church and the walk-in clinic. Before I got that far, though, I decided I deserved to treat myself to a strawberry slush on such a beautiful summer day, so I stopped at Chapman’s, the largest and newest gas station and convenience store Hillbilly Hollow had to offer.

  Donna Selby was the daytime cashier at Chapman’s. Her cousin Sherrie was in my class in school but Donna was a good five or six years younger, so I didn’t know her as well growing up. I walked back to the slush machine and helped myself to a medium strawberry-flavored drink. Walking back up front, I took too eager a sip from the oversized straw and got brain freeze. Billy had taught me the trick of sticking my thumb against the roof of my mouth to warm up my palate. He was always full of obscure little tidbits of information like that. Being friends with the town doctor definitely had its perks.

  As I got to the counter, there were a few people hanging around talking to Donna. I recognized Jasper Jenkins. His wife Ethel was one of Grandma’s quilting circle friends. Lyndon Lowery was there too. He was one of the most successful farmers and land owners in town. Ted Baxter leaned on the counter across from Donna as well. He had been in our class, and Suzy told me that they had dated for a while before she reconnected with Brian, her now-fiancé. He was a nice-looking guy with blondish-brown hair and bright green eyes. Brian was more put-together, though, and his good looks were more polished. The more time I spent with Brian and Suzy together, the happier I was for her. He was a genuinely good guy, and really seemed to be in love with Suzy.

  “Hello, Mr. Lowery, Mr. Jenkins. Hi, Ted. Everything alright?” I asked as I set my slush cup on the counter and put down a five-dollar bill.

  “Hi, Emma,” Ted said. “I guess you haven’t heard, then?”

  “Heard what?” I asked.

  “This place was robbed last night,” Mr. Lowery said in a hushed voice. “At gunpoint no less!”

  “Oh, sugar! Is everyone okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah, Caleb was working. Said a masked guy came right in, covered head to toe in black clothes, had a gun and a note that said ‘empty the register’. He put the money in a sack and then ran out. Got away before Caleb could call the sheriff,” Donna said, shaking her head. “Darn scary if you ask me.”

  “Probably one of these strangers in town,” Mr. Jenkins said. “You know, all these tourists in from all over…no telling who’s coming and going, not to mention why they’re lurking around!”

  “Wow, that’s awful. Well, I’m glad Caleb’s okay,” I said, taking my change from Donna. “You be safe, won’t you?” I gave her a concerned smile. “See you all later.”

  I got in my truck and headed over to the Posh Closet to see Suzy.

  “Morning, Suz,” I said as I walked in the door.

  “Hi, Emma!” she cheerfully called from the rack of clothes she was working on.

  “Bathroom,” I said, putting my slush on the counter as I walked to the back.

  A few minutes later, I returned.

  “So did you hear,” I started to ask Suzy, who was, by then, sitting behind the counter on a little stool.

  “Yes! Crazy, isn’t it? You don’t think about an armed robbery someplace like this, but I guess no place is safe anymore.” She shrugged.

  I picked up my drink to take a sip and it was noticeably lighter than it had been when I set it down. “Did you drink my slush?” I as
ked her.

  “Not all of it.” She smirked. “Come on, Emma! You didn’t bring me one,” she rolled her eyes. “You left me no choice.”

  “Whatever was I thinking?” I said dramatically. “I will try to do better in the future!” We both laughed. “So, are you taking any extra precautions due to the robbery?”

  “I don’t know…I’m not sure I’d know what I could do differently,” she replied.

  “Maybe you should ask Tucker for some tips,” I suggested.

  Suzy rolled her eyes. “Or one of his deputies. Bless Tucker’s heart. I’m not sure he’d be much help. When they were handing out looks and muscles, he must’ve gotten in the muscles line twice, and forgot he was supposed to get in the line for brains as well.” We both giggled.

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll be alright anyway. After all, you close up by five or six most days.” I looked at my watch. “Oh, look at the time. I’ve got a lot left to do – I’d better run.”

  I gave Suzy a hug around the neck.

  “Text me later. Oh!” Suzy said, “Want to go to dinner later? We’ll get Billy to come, too.”

  “Sounds good! See ya!” I waved as I walked out the door and hopped into my truck. As I put on my seatbelt, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Billy.

  BILLY: Heard there was holdup at Chapman's. U coming 2 town?

  I decided to hop out of my truck and walk over to the clinic instead of replying. It was only a few doors down from Suzy’s shop.

  Lena, the receptionist, was several years younger than us. She was married to Danny Baxter, who had taken over as preacher of the local church after Preacher Jacob was murdered.

  “Hi, Lena.” I smiled at the pretty redhead when I walked in. There was no one in the waiting room. “Is Bil- I mean, Dr. Will in today?” I giggled. I knew he went by Dr. Will Stone, trying to craft a more grown-up image for himself now that he was a successful doctor, but he’d only ever be Billy to Suzy and me.

  Lena laughed. “Yes, Emma. He’s here. Nobody’s in the office – you want to head back?”

  “Thanks!” I walked around the desk and to the little office he kept in the back corner.

  “Yes, I am coming to town, as a matter of fact,” I said, leaning against his door. “Do you suspect me of secretly being the Armed Bandit of Hillbilly Hollow?” I asked, dramatically.

  “Hi, Emma,” he said, a megawatt smile flashing from his tanned face. “I wouldn’t put it past you, ya know. I’ve seen what you’re capable of, after all, and am convinced nothing scares you.”

  “Well, almost nothing,” I said, plopping down in the chair opposite his desk, and looking around at the walls of his office. They were covered with thank you cards, photos, and drawings, presumably from grateful patients. “Why’d you ask if I’d be in town today?”

  “I just wanted to be sure you knew about the robbery – knew to keep your eyes peeled, that’s all.” He shrugged.

  “Are you worried about me?” I grinned. “I should be worried about you. I mean, don’t you keep some pretty high-dose baby aspirin around here?”

  “Ha! Yes, if someone wants to make a killing on tongue depressors and antibacterial cream, I’m definitely in danger of being a target! We don’t keep much in the way of serious medicine, and what we do have is under lock and key. It’s a pretty good system. That’s the great thing about the clinic, though – mostly insurance and credit cards – very little cash business.”

  “While I’m thinking about it, Suzy asked me to come down for dinner later. She wanted to know if you’d come too,” I said.

  “Yeah! That would be great!” He furrowed his brow, and cleared his throat. “I mean, that sounds cool. Whatever.”

  “Okay, I’d better roll. Lots to do today. Talk to you later?” I said.

  “Sounds good. Be safe out there, Emma,” he said in that stern, doctor-ly voice he sometimes used. I found it both extremely sweet and unbelievably dorky at the same time.

  “Don’t worry, I will!” I said, plucking a sucker from the jar on his desk as I left.

  As I walked out to my truck, I pulled the wrapper from the sucker and stuffed the plastic into my pocket. I put the red disc against my tongue. Mm. Strawberry!

  I heard a loud noise and my attention was pulled to the street. There were two motorcycles rolling up Main Street toward the diner. The motorcycles didn’t look new – in fact, one of them looked pretty beaten up. The riders each wore a leather vest over their t-shirt and jeans, and each sported a very expensive-looking helmet. The look was a bit outdated, I thought, not to mention that it was far too hot for leather by the time the Flower Festival rolled around.

  I wondered if the two bikers might be taking the scenic route from Springfield to St. Louis along old Route 66, and just stopping in town for a bite to eat. We sometimes got tourists who got off the old tourist route and came through to check out the town. It was good for business, I knew, and with so many friends and neighbors who had businesses of their own, I tried to be supportive.

  Still, it was a reminder of how many newcomers we had coming through town lately, especially because of the Festival. I thought briefly of the recent robbery and wondered if a stranger was responsible or someone from right here in the Hollow.

  Chapter 2

  I stopped at Farm King and picked up the feed for the chickens, and also picked up a couple pairs of work pants for myself. I had already ruined one pair of good jeans with barbed wire and manure, and I was determined not to lose any more of my wardrobe to farm life. Even if I was going to stick around a while, there was no point in doing farm chores in jeans that cost a hundred-fifty bucks a pair.

  I also stopped at the hardware store and picked up some building materials that they had put back for Grandpa. Grandma wanted to box in the vegetable garden so the deer and rabbits didn’t keep getting her vegetables. She canned fruit and vegetables, and made pickles according to the season. She put a lot of the canned goods up for us to eat, but also donated some to various fundraisers throughout the year. Her sweet pickle recipe was so good, I hesitated to eat sweet pickles made by anyone else.

  The guy behind the register was younger than me, and I didn’t know him well. He called for someone from the back to help me get the supplies into the truck. Before long, I was loaded up and ready to check another errand off my list.

  My next stop was the Hillbilly Hollow Museum. I had to drop off some fliers from the Historical Society and wanted to give some of my business cards to Jackie Colton, Suzy’s Mom who was also the museum curator. I thought she might be willing to refer anyone to me who might need graphic design work. I had known Mrs. Colton my whole life, and she had always been a supporter of my graphic design work. I knew I would find the most volume of work online, but thought it would be gratifying if I could pick up a little local business as well.

  My hands were full with two big boxes of fliers for Old Fort Days as I went into the museum. I balanced the boxes cautiously as I gingerly opened the door with the tips of my fingers. As I started through the door, someone pushed past me, nearly knocking me over.

  There was no mistaking her wild, silver-white mane of hair, and the multi-colored tunic she wore. It was Melody Campbell, the popular local artist. There were several pieces of her work on permanent display at the museum.

  “Really, do you have to be just where I’m trying to walk? Move aside! Honestly!” She made a tsk-tsk noise against her teeth with her tongue and shook her head as she pushed me aside.

  She was known for her eccentricity as much as her highly sought after paintings. Her style was a mix of impressionism and cubism, marked by bold colors and subtle design. I didn’t think her work was as good as many people did, but I had been lucky enough to visit lots of museums and local galleries in New York, so I considered myself pretty spoiled in that regard.

  “Hi, Ms. Campbell,” I said cautiously. “Everything alright?”

  “Oh, yes, it’s just wonderful!” she said, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. “My car’s in
the shop, and I have to walk all the way back to my house with all of this,” she said, holding up two large bags of art supplies. “So yes, Emma, it’s just a wonderful day!” She started to huff off.

  “Ms. Campbell, if you’ll wait for…” I started to offer to drop her at her home if she’d wait for me to leave the fliers with Mrs. Colton.

  “No, I will not wait! I’ve told you I’m very busy. Good day!” She stormed off.

  Hmpf! Rude, much? I couldn’t believe I was thinking of helping that cranky woman.

  I spent a few minutes with Mrs. Colton, then ran over to Founders Park. The front entrance to Founders Park was two blocks behind the Historical Society. The park was also accessible through Hollow Heights Garden via an entrance on County Road 47 at the back. It had a small playground, several benches, and a large open area that was used for festivals. Hollow Heights Garden, though, was the highlight of the park, and a source of many visitors to Hillbilly Hollow each year. It was a beautifully landscaped space, rich with examples of local flowers and plants.

  Each year, the kickoff of the Flower Festival was a charity auction held on the park grounds. Local artists, both professional and amateur, created beautiful themed banners to be sold in the auction. I had promised Grandma I’d buy a pretty banner for her to hang on the front porch. She had always wanted one, but never seemed to be able to win the ones she was after at the auction.

  I stopped at the registration table to pick up an auction paddle, and had just enough time to make a quick run through of the items up for sale. There were a couple of pretty banners that I thought Grandma would like. There were several nice ones with scenes of our little downtown area, and some of the natural beauty spots from around the county. Several depicted the old fort here in town, same as it stood in modern day, while others showed scenes of it in its military heyday. I came upon one banner that had pretty colors, but the abstract style wasn’t my taste. I thought I recognized it as Melody Campbell’s work.