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  Three Little Ghosts

  Janet McNulty

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents within are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or location is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  Three Little Ghosts

  Copyright © 2012 Janet McNulty

  Cover Illustration by Robert Henry

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Printed in the United States of America

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book”.

  More in the Mellow Summers Series

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

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  Look for Book 5 in the series:

  About the Author

  Look for the first book in a new series by Janet McNulty:

  Enter the world of fantasy with the Lands of Tesnayr

  Grandpa’s Stories: The 20th Century As Mt Grandfather Lived It.

  More in the Mellow Summers Series

  Sugar and Spice And Not So Nice

  Frogs, Snails, And A Lot Of Wails

  An Apple A Day Keeps Murder Away

  Chapter 1

  “I need to talk with you,” said Tiny as I opened the door allowing him to step inside my apartment. “You are the only one who will believe me.”

  “Believe what?” I asked. I had never seen Tiny looking so rattled before.

  He moved to the big easy chair in the living room and plopped down placing his face in his hands. “Well, you know, you speak to ghosts.”

  Oh great. Not another ghost. I had just spent my summer trying to forget about waking up in a motel room covered in blood.

  I am Mellow Summers: college student, Candle Shoppe employee, amateur sleuth, and a ghost magnet. Three times now I have solved certain crimes with the help of ghosts. Two of those were with Rachel.

  Even though she had recently left shortly after we got back from our trip to New York, I had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time I saw her.

  Because of the reputation I seemed to have built around town, Tiny sits in my living room wanting to talk about his paranormal experience.

  Normally he wouldn’t be here. But when I first arrived in Vermont I had the misfortune of running into him. Literally. He was drunk and couldn’t take no for an answer so I broke his nose. Who would have guessed that he would become one of my most loyal friends?

  “Go on,” I encouraged him knowing what came next.

  “Well, I was at the library,” began Tiny.

  “You read?”

  “Of course I read.” Tiny said, affronted by my outburst. “Just because I like motorcycles doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a good book.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “It’s just I would never—continue.”

  “I was at the library looking for something interesting to read when I heard girl’s laughter.”

  “Laughter?”

  “Yeah. Like little girl’s laughter. Almost like they were playing a game.”

  “They?”

  “It sounded like more than one girl.”

  I pondered over what Tiny had told me. I didn’t want to get involved in another mystery, but Tiny was my friend and needed my help. “I’m not sure what I can do about it. They could just be lingering spirits or echoes of the past.”

  Since my meeting with ghosts was probably going to be a constant in my life I had read up on hauntings. Apparently, spirits don’t always move on. Sometimes, a haunting is residual, just something left over but nothing to be afraid of. I really hoped that this was the case with Tiny’s dilemma.

  “I don’t think so,” said Tiny. “They seemed to be interacting with me.”

  No such luck there. Guess I’d have to actually check it out.

  “You know classes have just started up.”

  “Please, Mel.”

  He gave me the puppy dog look; those pleading eyes always get to me. I never could turn someone away who needed help. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you,” Tiny wrapped me in a huge bear hug.

  He put me down and left. I flopped on the couch exhausted. My first few weeks of the fall semester did not go well. In fact, this semester shaped up to be a disaster with all the classes I was taking. Maybe doubling up on credits was not such a good idea.

  “Hey,” Jackie walked through the door with a couple bags of groceries. “I just saw Tiny leaving. What was he doing here?”

  “We need to go to the library.”

  “Now?”

  “Well, no later than tomorrow” I replied.

  “Why?” Jackie had a suspicious tone in her voice. She knew me too well.

  “To check on something for him.”

  “This isn’t about another ghost, is it?”

  “No—yes.” I went to the kitchen to put the groceries away. “Tiny was at the library yesterday—”

  “Tiny reads?”

  I gave Jackie a reprimanding look.

  “Sorry.”

  “Anyway, he thinks he was taunted by the ghost of a little girl and wants me to check it out.”

  “And you agreed,” said Jackie.

  “Well, I can’t very well say no. After all, he has helped me a lot in the past.”

  Jackie glared at me. I knew what she thought: she did not want me to get involved in another mystery, especially after the last one. In that one Jeremy kidnapped me and framed me for murder.

  “All right,” said Jackie, “For Tiny. I guess we do owe him one.”

  Chapter 2

  An hour later we walked through the glass doors to the library. The circulation desk was straight ahead and on either side sat rows and rows of books. More were on the second level. Jackie and I wandered around poking through the shelves. I had no idea where to start.

  “What’s the plan?” asked Jackie.

  “There is none,” I replied. “Maybe we should research the history of this building.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, if there is a ghost here, knowing the history could tell us who it is.”

  “Good thinking.” Jackie walked over to a computer terminal. She punched the keys producing a series of clacks, engrossed in her task. I left her alone.

  Aimlessly, I meandered through the building glancing at the shelves of books. Before I realized it, I ended up in the nonfiction section. I picked up a particularly fat book. I happened to glance to my right. Next to me stood a young girl of about six. She had pigtails tied in bows and wore a simple dress.

  “Where is it?” said the girl.

  “Where’s what, sweetie?” I asked.

  “It’s not supposed to leave the building,�
�� said the girl. She had a bit of a grayish tint to her. I did not pay attention to it.

  “What isn’t?”

  “Mel?” Jackie walked around a corner. “Who were you talking to?”

  “The little g—” I stopped speaking. The girl had vanished. “Oh no.”

  “On no, what?” asked Jackie.

  “I think Tiny’s ghost is real.”

  “Great. Just what we need; another ghost and a mystery.”

  “Why so disappointed?”

  “I think you are beginning to like these cases,” said Jackie.

  “So are you, admit it,” I replied.

  I looked around for any signs of the ghost, but found none. Jackie and I headed for the front of the library when I saw her again. Except, she looked a bit different. Hair in pigtails, but her features were slightly different. I walked up to her. “Hello,” I said.

  “I’m not supposed to talk to you,” said the girl.

  “Why not?”

  “The librarian will get mad.”

  “We’ll she’s just an old spinster. And I don’t think she can see you.”

  “SHHH!”

  The librarian stared at me with a pinched, stern expression. Old prune face’s displeasure came across loud and clear. I hope she hadn’t heard my comment to the ghost of the girl. Stepping behind some shelves, I motioned for the girl to follow me. “Why did you leave like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “I talked to you just a few minutes ago and you vanished abruptly.”

  “That wasn’t me,” said the girl. “That was my sister. I have two.”

  Great. Three ghosts. This would prove interesting.

  “Sister?” I said.

  “Yes. My name is Sarah. The one you talked to was Alana. And my other sister if Freya.”

  “Why are you all still here?” I asked. I wanted to ask her if she knew they were all dead, but it just didn’t seem right. Sarah must have guessed though because she said—

  “We know we are dead. It’s just, we have nowhere to go. The school’s changed.”

  “School?”

  “Do you think you could ask her to show herself so I don’t look like an idiot watching my friend have a conversation with the books?” piped up Jackie.

  I had forgotten she was there.

  “Don’t want to,” said Sarah.

  Judging by Jackie’s reaction, she must have spoken so everyone could hear her.

  Three people sauntered past us. I quickly snatched a book to appear as though I actually browsed through them.

  “Why did you appear to my friend?” I asked Sarah, after we were alone again.

  “I didn’t do that,” replied Sarah. “That was Alana. She is always appearing to others for fun.”

  I pondered her statement a moment. There had to be something I could do to help her and her sisters. Call me emotional, but I don’t think children should have to be stuck on this planet as ghosts.

  A scream echoed through the library. Instantly, Jackie and I rushed to where it originated from. Slumped on a table was a woman of about my age with blonde hair. I rushed to her and checked for a pulse. Nothing. A spot of red appeared on the middle of her back. Stabbed in the kidney. From my biology course in high school, I knew that she had no chance. Whoever did this to her definitely wanted her dead. But whom? And why?

  Suddenly, I became aware of people staring at me and realized that I probably should not have touched the body. Movement caught my attention. A man in his late thirties with ginger hair moved away from the crowd. His eyes darted about as if making certain no one watched him. Apparently he didn’t spot me, which is good because I stared right at him making no attempt to hide my interest. With a flicker of movement, he waltzed out of the building and away from the commotion.

  I started to follow him, but the crowd pushed in on me not allowing me to leave. By the time I reached the door, a bunch of cops tore inside pushing me back in. I found Jackie and together we huddled near some shelves away from everyone. I had a feeling about who would appear next and, sure enough, Detective Shorts strolled in all business like.

  He glanced around taking in the situation. I shrank a few inches when he spotted me. His impassive expression turned to a frown.

  “Why am I not surprised to find you here?” he asked.

  “She can’t help it if murder and mayhem are attracted to her,” said Jackie.

  Thanks, Jackie. Just what I needed: the cop to think that I am a murder magnet. Though I began to wonder the same thing.

  “Looking for a book?” asked the detective.

  “Among other things,” I muttered. “We were just spending our afternoon here. If we had known this would happen, we never would have come.”

  “Tell me what happened,” said Detective Shorts taking out his notepad.

  “The victim is female, 28, dead upon arrival. Her I.D. says she was Allison Warkins,” said an officer interrupting us.

  “Thank you. Have them take the body to the morgue and get me a full autopsy ASAP,” said Detective Shorts. He turned back to Jackie and I. “Well?”

  “We came here looking for a way to pass the time,” I began, “And then there was this scream. Jackie and I ran to it like everyone else here and we found the woman slumped on the table.”

  “Did you touch the body?”

  “She did,” said Jackie, “She was checking to see if the woman was still alive.”

  “Anything else?”

  “She saw a ghost.”

  I smacked Jackie on the arm. Of all the things to tell him. He already thought I was a crime junkie.

  Detective Shorts snapped his notepad shut. “You two may leave for now, but remain in town in case I have more questions. Unfortunately, Miss Summers, you are a witness to a crime.” He walked off to question others.

  I waved Jackie along and exited the library.

  “Do you think one of the ghosts saw the murderer?” asked Jackie.

  “Unfortunately no,” said a small voice behind us. This time I knew Jackie saw her. It was another girl of about six or seven with her hair in pigtails. But she looked different from the others. “Freya?” I asked.

  “Yes. We did not see who killed that woman. Alana was playing a joke in the bathroom and you were with Sarah.”

  “And where were you,” I asked.

  “At the circulation desk messing with the librarian. That woman was not who she seemed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She acted scared. Kept glancing about as though she were looking for someone. Or waiting. There is nothing more I can tell you.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “And tell your friend, that Alana was just playing a joke.” Freya disappeared.

  “Now what?” asked Jackie.

  “Well, I guess we have two mysteries to solve. Who killed that woman and why are those girls still here?”

  “How do you plan to fit all that in with your studies?” asked Jackie.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  Chapter 3

  The next morning Greg came over. He let himself in, which I told him was okay after eight o’clock. “I have been reading up on your extracurricular activities,” he said handing me a newspaper.

  I unfolded it and cringed at the headline. Woman Murdered in Local Library—No Suspects. Below it was a picture with me in it. Great. Now I am a public icon. Good thing I was in the distance with my head slightly turned, but Greg had managed to pick me out.

  “I didn’t set out to become involved,” I said.

  “You never do,” said Greg. “So what were you girls doing there anyway?”

  I tried to think of an answer, but Jackie beat me to the punch. “She was talking to a ghost.”

  “Another one?” asked Greg.

  “Three actually,” I said. “Tiny came over a bit rattled because he saw a ghost in the library.”

  “Tiny reads?”

  I glared at Greg. It didn’t matter that I had thought the same thin
g when Tiny told me about the incident. “Anyway, I told him I would look into it. And I have.”

  “And now you probably want me to help solve this mystery,” said Greg.

  “No,” I replied, “Though there was this guy there. Strange fellow. He acted nervous, but smooth at the same time. Either way, he couldn’t wait to get out of there and managed to before the cops arrived.”

  “See, I knew it. You attract trouble and now you are going to do anything you can to figure out what happened.”

  “Well…it…How can you expect me not to?” I stammered. He knew me too well. What can I say? My curiosity was piqued. Besides, I really wanted to know who that man was. “The thing is I want to know what happened at that library, or whatever building was there before hand. The ghosts of three girls are there and they shouldn’t be trapped there.”

  “Very well, I’ll do it,” said Greg.

  “Do what?”

  “Go to the library and look into their archives,” replied Greg. “You can’t do it. You’ve already been around enough murders and I don’t think Detective Shorts would be pleased if he found you down there.”

  I kissed him. “You’re a dear.”

  “Don’t get too used to it.” He headed for the door walking right past Jackie who held a plate of cinnamon toast. “Oh, thank you,” he said as he picked up the toast and shoved it in his mouth.

  Jackie glowered at him. She stormed back into the kitchen to make more toast.

  “We need to find out who that man was,” I said.

  “Don’t you have a class to get to?” asked Jackie.

  I slapped my forehead. She was right. I had a class to get to. History of Filmmaking. I dashed to my room, grabbed my bag, and ran out the door. Late once again.

  I managed to slip into the classroom just as the professor shut the door. Spotting an available seat in the back, I took it and pulled out my notebook.

  “Welcome everybody,” greeted the professor, “I trust you all had a restful time since our last meeting.”

  I frowned. I don’t know why he always said that. Not one of my favorite classes, I did my best to stay awake. I’d rather be making films than learning about them. But this class was required credits for my major.