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  Ghostly Rules

  Lorna Shadow Cozy Ghost Mystery, Volume 6

  K.E. O'Connor

  Published by K.E. O'Connor, 2017.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  GHOSTLY RULES

  First edition. July 28, 2017.

  Copyright © 2017 K.E. O'Connor.

  Written by K.E. O'Connor.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  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 1

  I watched the horses pulling a glass enclosed carriage as they passed the car, dipping my head in respect as they reached my window. Giant black plumes of feathers danced on top of the horses’ bridles.

  “Are you sure this is the place?” My best friend, Helen Holiday squinted at the open gates of the Nottinghamshire mansion she’d pulled up outside of.

  “This is it.” I double checked the details the recruitment agency had sent through on my phone. “Creighton Mansion.” My gaze shifted to the three sleek, black limousines that followed the carriage. All the mourners were dressed in sombre black, and several women had net veils over their faces and were discreetly wiping their eyes as they passed.

  “Did you get a look at who was in the carriage?” Helen craned her neck, staring at the retreating carriage in which sat a coffin. “It had better not be our new employer, or we’ve just wasted half a tank of gas getting here.”

  “Are you going to ask for that back or shall I?” I shook my head at Helen before turning to stare at the flower covered glossy black coffin with its silver handles, sitting on a carpet of velvet. “I can see the name Lonnie spelt out in flowers.”

  “That’s a relief,” said Helen. “We need to find Elita Cornell, not someone called Lonnie. At least our new jobs are safe.”

  “I always knew you were the caring type.”

  “I’m caring,” said Helen. “I care very much about the amount of money we have in our bank accounts. And I care that we can afford to eat every night. And I know Flipper would object if you told him there wasn’t enough money for his dog treats.”

  At the sound of his name, Flipper’s grey and white head shot up from the back seat, and he looked at me hopefully. His favorite word was treat.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” I said to Flipper. “We’ve got ages until dinner.”

  Flipper gave me a slow blink of his ice blue eyes before laying back down and settling his head on his paws. The back seat of the car was his favorite place to be, and Flipper loved nothing more than taking a long nap when Helen was driving.

  “Perhaps we should come back later,” I said to Helen. “If it’s a family funeral, there won’t be anybody home. And they won’t want to have to deal with us if they’re in mourning.”

  “Give the agency a call and see if they know anything about the funeral,” said Helen.

  I pulled out my phone again and dialed Josie at the recruitment agency. She was great at finding us employment with the wealthy and upper-class families in the country. I was a whizz as a personal assistant, and Helen was nothing short of a genius when it came to creating new clothing or adapting something to make it the perfect fit. She also did her fair share of the laundry.

  My phone connected after the second ring.

  “Prestige Recruitment Agency. Josie speaking.”

  “Josie, it’s Lorna Shadow. We’ve arrived at the Cornell house and discovered everybody leaving for a funeral.”

  “Oh dear,” said Josie, her usually bright sunny voice lowering. “I’d forgotten that was today. I meant to warn you. And what bad timing, you getting there as the funeral is about to take place.”

  “Who died?” I asked. “We saw the name Lonnie on the coffin.”

  “That’s right; it was Lonnie Cornell,” said Josie. “He’s your employer’s ex-husband. They’ve been separated for some time, but I believe they still lived in the same house.”

  “Bit odd, a divorced couple still living together.”

  “Apparently, Lonnie loved Creighton Mansion,” said Josie. “Have you tried knocking to see if anyone stayed behind?”

  “If you’re sure it’s not going to bother the family.” I wasn’t certain intruding on the Cornells when they were in mourning was appropriate.

  “I can’t see it being an issue,” said Josie. “Elita Cornell mentioned she’d need help with post funeral arrangements, so I’m certain you’ll be welcome. I hope it’s not a problem for you. I know grieving people can be... tricky.”

  “It’s not a problem for us,” I said.

  “And this is the perfect fit for you and Helen,” said Josie, her voice warming up as she flipped into her over the top sales technique mode. “With your old employers heading to Malta for three months, and this job coming in to cover you until they get back, it seemed ideal. Don’t let a little funeral get in your way.”

  “Not to mention this family is paying double our usual rates,” muttered Helen, who was listening to the conversation in the seat next to me.

  I nodded. When Josie had called to offer Helen and me a three-month stay with the Cornells, I was reluctant. I preferred to work in places for longer than that, get to grips with my job, and make sure everything was running smoothly. Well, whenever the ghosts allowed that to happen. And that was the trouble; I sometimes got myself involved in things I shouldn’t and ended up losing my job. But Josie had assured me this would be easy, and with the excellent pay offered for Helen and me, I’d decided to take the risk and accept the position as Elita Cornell’s personal assistant.

  “It won’t do any harm if we take a look around,” said Helen. “If nobody is about, we can wait in the car until the family gets back.”

  I jumped at the sound of someone tapping a fingernail on the glass and turned to see a broad shouldered, muscled man in a black suit and wraparound sunglasses peering in at me. “I’d better go,” I said to Josie, not taking my eyes off the menacing figure outside the car.

  “I’m sure everything will be fine,” said Josie. “But let me know if you have any problems. I’m a phone call away. Have a lovely day.”

  I removed the phone from my ear as the man continued to glower at me.

  “Who’s that?” Helen stared at the man.

  “Not a clue.” But the nervous roll of my stomach made me think it was someone I didn’t want to get any closer to. “Are you illegally parked?”

  “There are no road markings on this country lane,” said Helen. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

  “He doesn’t look like he agrees with that.”

  Sunglasses gestured at me to undo the window.

  I glanced at Helen. “Maybe we should drive away? He looks shifty to me.”

  Helen stared at the man. “If he causes any trouble, we can set Flipper on him. And I’m wearing my best stilettos. A quick whack on the head with one of those and he’ll be out for the count for hours.”

  “You’ll have to get close to be able to whack him with a shoe,” I said. “And have you seen the size of his hands? He could crush you like a paper bag.”

  Helen leaned over and looked at the man’s hands. “Ok
ay, you can attack first and create a distraction, and I’ll take him from behind.”

  I wrinkled my nose and then slid down my window and looked at the man. “May we help you?”

  “What’s your business here?” asked Sunglasses, his voice a low grumble.

  “We’re here to see Mrs. Cornell,” I said. “Have we come at a bad time?”

  “You could say that,” said Sunglasses. “I need some ID.”

  I reached for my purse, but Helen grabbed my arm.

  “Who are you?” Helen asked Sunglasses.

  “I work for the family,” said Sunglasses. He held out a stubby-fingered hand. “Show me some ID.”

  I pulled out my driver’s license and handed it to him. “We’re starting work for Mrs. Cornell today.”

  He looked at my license and then handed it back. “Which one?”

  “There’s more than one Mrs. Cornell living here?”

  “There are three in residence,” said Sunglasses, his shoulders slumping.

  “Elita,” said Helen, flashing him her biggest smile. “Lorna’s going to be her personal assistant, and I’m her seamstress. And you are?”

  Sunglasses grunted and remained in his position by the car. I couldn’t tell if he was looking at us because of his opaque shades.

  “Elita must be attending Lonnie’s funeral,” I said, as I tucked my license back into my purse.

  “She could be,” said Sunglasses.

  Mr. Super Helpful was getting on my nerves. “Is there anywhere we can wait until the family returns?”

  For a second, I wondered if I’d spoken a different language, because Sunglasses seemed frozen to the spot, his arms hanging by his sides and his mouth open. But then, he gave a quiet grunt and took a step back. “Go through the gates and drive up to the house. Park out front, and I’ll get someone to show you inside.”

  I nodded and shut my window as Helen drove towards the gates of Creighton Mansion.

  “I hope we won’t be seeing much of him,” said Helen, as she glided the car through the large, ornately carved black gates and along a gravel driveway. “He sucked the joy right out of the air. And did you see how he ignored my best smile?”

  “Hard to believe someone is immune to your charms.”

  “I know! I could feel myself getting more miserable every second he was looming over us in that silly suit,” said Helen. “And he needs a tailor; the shoulders of his suit were all wrong on him.”

  “He looked like a nightclub bouncer to me,” I said, “all that menace, muscle, and black clothing. Why do the Cornells need someone like that lurking around outside?”

  “He doesn’t scare me,” said Helen. “I bet on the inside he’s as soft as a marshmallow, likes bubble baths and hot chocolate, and has a pet rabbit called Mr. Fluffles.”

  Helen could be right, but even so, I didn’t fancy getting on the wrong side of Sunglasses.

  As we pulled up outside the front of a large, white, modern mansion, I took a minute to feel in awe of our temporary new home. A set of steps led to black double doors at the front that was flanked by columns. The roof had a wraparound balcony, the edges of which were adorned with carved urns. Everything looked clean, bright, and new. I spotted giant floppy black ribbons tied around the trees next to the house and an enormous black ribbon on the front door knocker.

  I opened the back door of the car, and Flipper jumped out, giving himself a few seconds to stretch before looking around his new environment.

  “It’s different from our last house,” I said to him. “No cats for you to make friends with. You’ll be on your own this time and will have to entertain yourself.” Our last employer had kept fifty cats in a sanctuary in the grounds of her estate, and Flipper had enjoyed himself as he tried to make friends with as many as possible. The results had been mixed, and he’d ended up with more than a few scratches on his nose as he’d investigated who was a feline friend and who was a foe.

  Flipper gave me a doggy smile before trotting away, not seeming to mind the lack of companions, his nose to the ground as he took in the new scents around him.

  I looked at my cream sweater covered in small butterfly prints and my blue skirt. I felt inappropriately dressed. Spring pastel colors were not the right thing to wear in the middle of a family in mourning.

  Helen’s attire was no better; she was in a light green dress and nude stilettos, and her blonde curls were secured off her face with a giant green butterfly clip. “Let’s go inside and see who’s about. Maybe we can get someone to show us around while we’re waiting.”

  “I’ll get our bags.”

  Before I’d had a chance to open the trunk of the car, the front door opened and an almost identical version of Sunglasses emerged. He strode towards us, his arms loose by his sides and a muscle twitching in his jaw.

  I resisted the urge to take a step back as he drew nearer.

  “Miss Shadow and Miss Holiday.” It wasn’t a question as he looked at each of us in turn. “You’re to come with me.”

  “And you are?” asked Helen.

  The man’s head swiveled in Helen’s direction. “I’m employed by the Cornells.”

  “I figured that out for myself,” said Helen. “But what’s your name?”

  The pink tip of the man’s tongue showed for a second. “They call me Hog.”

  I pressed my lips together to stop from laughing. “Is that a nickname?”

  “Lonnie gave it to me,” said Hog.

  “Like a pig?” Helen made a snorting sound and wrinkled her nose.

  “Do you have a problem with that?” asked Hog. His shoulders bunched, and I realized why he’d got the nickname as his neck vanished and his lip curled up to reveal porcine-like teeth.

  I had to look away and mask my smile. Hog would crush Helen in a second if she kept riling him, but the look of incredulity on her face was too much.

  “The name suits you,” said Helen, after a few seconds of awkward silence. “You can give us a hand with the bags. A strong swine like you will have no problem with a couple of small cases.”

  I looked back to see Hog’s jaw clench, but then he gave a swift nod, grabbed both cases, and stomped into the house without another word.

  “Might not be a good idea to annoy the hired muscle,” I whispered to Helen as we followed behind Hog at a safe distance.

  “I couldn’t help it,” said Helen. “What a ridiculous nickname. You think they’d give him a name like Brutus or Spartan. You know, to complement all that pent-up anger and those muscles.”

  “You’ve been checking him out?” I grinned at Helen. “Didn’t know you were into muscles.”

  “His are hard to miss,” said Helen. “He blocks out the sun his shoulders are so broad.”

  “Wait here.” Hog pointed to the bottom of a set of sweeping, curved stairs that led to the first floor, before striding up them. He returned a moment later empty-handed, and I had to hope he hadn’t decided to sling our cases out the nearest window in revenge for Helen’s teasing.

  “This way.” Hog gestured for us to follow him along the hallway, which had a cluttered, busy feel to it. The pale grey carpet felt luxurious under my feet, and there were gaudy, bright pieces of furniture dotted around. Despite the cheery colors, there was something in the house that made me uneasy. It was a feeling of tension as if the whole house was coiled on a spring and about to release at any second. It was just waiting for a trigger.

  I glanced around but couldn’t see any reason for this feeling. It was different from the sensation I felt whenever a ghost was around. Whatever it was, it set my teeth on edge, and I had to hope it was only temporary. Maybe the funeral had made everyone tense, and I was picking up on those feelings. But I could feel my shoulders rising towards my ears as the atmosphere seeped into my pores.

  I looked over at Helen to see if it was affecting her, but she seemed her usual self. And Flipper was happily following along behind us, slowing now and again to sniff an interesting smell or peer into a corner. W
hatever was going on here, only I could sense it, and I didn’t like that.

  It had better not be a portent of things to come.

  Chapter 2

  Hog had left us alone in one of the ground floor living rooms. Everything in this room was white, from the couch to the marble fireplace. And it all looked brand new, so much so, I was reluctant to touch anything in case I made it dirty.

  “What’s keeping Hog?” asked Helen. “I didn’t expect him to stick us in a room and abandon us. He could at least have shown us around or kept us entertained while we waited for the family to get back.”

  “What would you have asked him to do, pig impressions?”

  “No! Although that would have been fun,” said Helen. “But he could have told us about the family and if there’s anyone we need to be careful of.”

  “We need to be careful of Hog and that other sunglass wearing goon outside,” I said. “Besides, maybe he thinks someone from the family should show us the house.” I peered out one of the bay windows and into the back garden. There was a large swimming pool outside surrounded by a terraced area. And beyond that, a neat lawn and flower beds, full of bright yellow and purple spring colors. The hedges in the distance had been shaped like hares. “Zach would like it here. He’d enjoy working in this garden, although I bet keeping those animal shaped hedges trimmed is a nuisance.”

  Zach Booth was my boyfriend and a dab hand when it came to anything horticultural. He’d just finished a year-long job and was spending time putting the finishing touches to our new house. A house I’d be moving into with him, Helen, and Zach’s brother, Gunner. It was a daunting prospect, but one tinged with excitement.

  “Why don’t we take a look around ourselves?” Helen walked over to the door and turned the handle. “Hang on a second. Hog has locked us in!”

  “It’s probably stuck.”

  “It’s not. It’s locked! Anyone would think we can’t be trusted.”

  “You do look kind of shifty,” I said to Helen.

  Helen glared at me. “Aren’t you worried Hog’s locked us in here? Why would he do that?”