Her cousin’s eyes went wide. “Oh, yeah, I guess Lurch does live in the house, doesn’t he? Well, scratch that, I guess.”
Mama picked up a manuscript from behind the register. “If you don’t need us any longer, Sissy and I need to do some shopping.”
Abitha was gazing at Everett, her eyes dreamy. She snapped awake. Her face fell. “Do we really?”
“Your husband hasn’t caught anything for supper, so if we want to eat, we shop.” Mama smiled at Everett. “Nice to meet you. You’ll have to come by Light House for supper sometime. Maybe when Roby catches something delicious.”
Everett nodded at her. “It’s a date.”
Mama covered her mouth. No doubt she was suppressing a giggle, Ivy thought. She eyed Everett. Sure, he was a pretty good detective, smart, a little too much so, and confident. Maybe he was handsome in a rugged way, but not enough to transform grown women into giggling schoolgirls. It wasn’t the first time she wondered what she was not seeing in him.
“I better go, too. Gotta drive up to Jacksonville to meet a friend.” Everett gave Ivy a look. Fingerprints, she thought.
With raised brows, Blanche watched the detective leave out of the corner of her eye. Her mouth made that speculative shape again. “Man’s got an aura,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
Blanche shrugged. “I’m not sure, but considering he’s so gruff, he’s got a whole lotta charm going on. Charisma. Something.”
“Charm seems to be the word of the day,” Ivy said. “Everyone’s charmed to meet him. Speaking of, I have to figure out a way to hide the magic stuff from him. But he’s so nosy, so suspicious, and way too smart. What the heck do I do, Cuz?”
“That’s a tough one. He’s gonna figure it out on his own eventually. You might just tell him the truth.”
“That we’re witches?”
Blanche’s lips made a tight line. She tapped her fingers on her knees. “Maybe he won’t believe it, or think we’re hippy pagans or whatnot. What did he think about those horrible creatures who took Abigail?”
Ivy thought about it. “Not much, really. He only talks about the people they infected. Heck, maybe he will think we’re just pagan hippies. Most folks just automatically ignore or justify magic when they see it.” Ivy said it, but she didn’t know if she believed that Everett Klein was most folks.
Chapter 8
She spent the rest of the day distracted, thinking about the case. The snooty Tanner implicated the snooty wife. Truly, the only people who seemed concerned were Gus Beranger and his hired security firm owner, J. Benjamin Franklyn. The tiara was insured, she heard. The tiara was gaudy junk, she heard. Was it just that the True Treasures exhibit would be ruined without its most infamous piece, or were she and Everett missing something?
After locking up, she changed into her usual cutoff overalls and slip-on Keds and folded Blanche’s suit for the cleaners. Clouds rolled in from the east as she walked out to her little truck. Impending thunderstorms made for lighter traffic as she drove to the historic district. She managed to find parking within walking distance to the drycleaner on St. George Street. On her way back to the car, a berry-colored pencil skirt suit in a boutique window caught her eye.
Well, what the heck. She needed to dress up a little, and Blanche’s least favorite outfits weren’t working for Ivy. She popped in, just to look at the price tag.
“Buy it. You’ve got the stems for it, honey.”
Ivy turned, expecting to see a saleswoman. Instead, she found Moira. The ghost was dressed like the store employees. Her name tag read ‘Easy.’
“I don’t know if I want to make the investment. It’s not like I’ll wear it more than once.”
“Oh, shut up and try it on. Look, there’s one in big blue houndstooth, too! These are your colors, honey. You’re totally a Summer.”
“What’s a Summer?”
Moira waved her hands. “I don’t know, it’s something I saw on “The View.” Try on the dang dress, Ivy.”
She grabbed it off the display and headed to the dressing room. The skirt hugged her knees, and the slit up the side seemed to let in way too much fresh air. She slid the sleeveless blouse over her head and shrugged into the jacket.
“C’mon, girl, let’s see it,” Moira called from outside the dressing room.
Feeling sheepish in her ratty Keds and fancy suit, Ivy crept out in front of the full length mirrors. She did a little turn, looking at herself at different angles. “What do you think?”
“Oh!” Moira shrieked. “It’s fabulous!”
The ghost bustled around her, trying to flip and tuck, but only creating a little stir of breeze. “The skirt shows off your pretty gams, hugs that little heart-shaped patootie like a regular ol’ snuggle bunny.”
No one could hear, but Ivy blushed nonetheless. “I do kinda like it.”
“Like it?” Moira plucked, ineffectively, at the low cut blouse. “Just a little bit of cleavage, with the drape of the jacket perfect to hide your disappointingly small boobs—”
“Hey!”
“This’ll send Mr. Hotpants Detective’s motor racing, honey child.”
Which wasn’t her objective. Was it? Ivy looked down at her feet. “What about shoes?”
“I never pay attention to shoes,” Moira said.
That figured.
An actual saleswoman came over. “Sakes alive, that dress was made for you. And we do have heels in that color, but they’re low heels, if that’s all right.”
Ivy hated heels. “Flats?”
“In that suit, with your legs?” The saleswoman’s tag read Meg. “Don’t even!”
“Listen to Meg,” Moira said.
Ivy hesitated. “I’d like to try on the blue houndstooth, too.”
Meg’s eyes went big. “Oh, yeah, let me grab that. Ladies’ suits and shoes are BOGO half off, by the way. We’re having a sale.”
“These suits are totally BOGO!” Moira agreed readily.
When Meg walked off to get the other suit, Ivy said, “You know BOGO means ‘buy one get one,’ right?”
“Just super BOGO.” Moira tried to adjust the jacket some more.
The blue houndstooth looked just as good as the berry.
“You could totally swap the tops for another look,” Meg said. “Does it feel comfortable?”
“Sometimes beauty hurts,” Moira said. “Just go with it. You look BOGO. Edible, even.”
Ivy ignored Moira. “I’m pretty much a cutoffs girl. I don’t wear fancy clothes to work.”
“Why, that’s a crying shame, Ivy,” Meg said. “I mean, yeah, I’m trying to hustle you into two suits, but, hell’s bells, girl, you’re a knockout in these.”
“Wrap ’em up,” Ivy said. “I’ll take ’em.”
“Yes!” Moira shouted so loudly that even Meg looked a little startled. A few customers looked their way as well.
Meg blinked a few times. “The shoes as well?”
“Let me try them on.”
Twenty minutes later, she stumbled across the damp gravel that served as a parking space outside of Light House. Ivy was not used to any kind of heel, and the gravel was treacherous on the best days. Finally finding her balance, she walked inside. Uncle Roby greeted her with a wolf’s whistle. The Biddy Committee looked up from their work.