A medium homecomeing, p.1
A Medium Homecomeing, page 1
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
A MEDIUM HOMECOMEING
First edition. March 6, 2023.
Copyright © 2023 Lynn Cahoon.
Written by Lynn Cahoon.
A MEDIUM HOMECOMING
THE HAUNTED LIFE COZY MYSTERY SERIES
CAHOON, LYNN
CONTENTS
Untitled
A Medium Homecoming
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
A Medium Homecoming
Book 2 in The Haunted Life Cozy Mystery Series
Lynn Cahoon
A MEDIUM HOMECOMING
Eddie Cayce has come home to New Orleans. Good or bad, she’s made her bed and now she has to sleep in it, like her mama always said. Even though she loves the town where she grew up, the gift she’d been given from her late grandmother was causing problems. Major problems.
* * *
Her aunt isn't talking to her. Eddie’s talent is turned up to the equivalent of a million-watt light bulb. Walking down the street from her newly purchased antique store, she has to dodge questions and demands from the newly and not so dearly departed.
* * *
When her marketing associate, Tessa Hunt, dies unexpectedly, her ghost demands that Eddie find her killer, Eddie agrees to make some calls. Now if she could just keep Tessa from pushing her bad marketing tactics from beyond the grave.
* * *
All Eddie wants is a little piece and quiet so she can run her new business and find the perfect house. Is that too much to ask? Apparently, the answer is yes, at least in New Orleans.
1
Spring arrived in the French Quarter of New Orleans late. I knew that the bright red tropical hibiscus had no actual smell, but I liked to imagine the flowers made the air fresh and sweet. I’m Eddie Cayce, new owner of Cayce’s Treasures. Or at least that’s what I wanted to call the new design shop I was opening inside my new antique store. Currently the sign said Goldman’s Antiques. I’d already designed the new sign and was waiting to pull the trigger on ordering it. I was determined to get out of my office and into the fresh air sooner than later. All I had to do was get through this meeting, then my day was clear. The first day I’d planned off in months and Mel Anderson, my new assistant, had taken the empty slot in my calendar as permission to schedule an impromptu presentation by the public relations firm I’d hired last month. I leaned back in my chair and watched as the marketer made her pitch for the grand opening promotion of my new business.
Of course, Tessa Hunt, my new PR associate wasn’t in love with the shop name I’d chosen. As well as most of the ideas I’d sent to the PR agency when I’d hired them to do a promotion package.
“Goldstein’s Antiques is a well-known company in the Louisiana area. Keeping the name, which your contract clearly allows you to do,” Tessa pointed to a piece of paper on the table, “would allow you to avoid the new company distrust buyers have and builds on the reputation of Mr. Goldstein rather than just starting over.”
“I actually have a strong name and experience in the antique business. I worked for a large, well-known design company for over ten years before I moved back here.” I pointed out, hoping my voice didn’t show the exact level of my exasperation. I’d had this discussion with the agency’s partners when I’d hired the company and before Tessa had been assigned to my project. I stared at Doyle Butler, one of the partners who’d come along for the meeting. Doyle and I were friends, or at least I’d thought we were. Now I wasn’t sure.
“Yes, I’m sure you did. But honey, that was in Seattle.” Tessa said the word like she was pointing out that I’d been working for an underground sex club or something worse.
“Let’s shelve the discussion about the name change for another day.” Doyle Butler shook his head lightly toward the woman presenting her ideas.
“I’ll think about your points.” I decided to throw out an olive branch and took in a deep breath. I would think about it, but I wasn’t changing my mind. Grandma Andrews had given me the money to finance this dream in her will and there was no way I was sacrificing a name I’d been dreaming about for years because some girl didn’t think I had a reputation in the antique community.
Tessa went on with the presentation, clearly frustrated with losing a battle. Apparently, she’d never heard the concept that the customer was always right. Even when they were wrong. When she finished, I closed the binder in front of me.
“Thanks for coming by today. I’ll give these ideas some thought and get back to you next week if we’re going ahead.” Standing to end the meeting, I tucked my notebook in the crook of my arm.
Tessa’s eyes widened at the unexpected ending of the meeting. “I thought you’d already committed. I told my contacts that…”
Doyle glared at Tessa and then turned to me. “Thanks for seeing us today, Eddie. I’ll come by and check in with you next week to see if I can answer any questions about our proposal.”
“I needed to talk to you about…” Tessa began but Doyle took her arm and helped her out of the chair.
“Later, Tessa.” Doyle smiled at me. “Thank you for seeing us today, Eddie. We’ll get out of your hair.”
After they’d left, Mel Anderson leaned back in her chair from her desk outside the conference room so she could catch my gaze. “Somebody’s in trouble.”
“OMG. Can she be much out of college? What was Doyle thinking letting her work my account? I’m going to wait until tomorrow then call him back and ask for someone new. Someone who listens when the client talks about her vision.” I rubbed my face and watched people window shop as they passed by my store.
“You look tired. Are you heading home?” Mel gathered up the papers that the promotions company had left on the table. “I’ll put these in your office. I don’t think we have any interviews this afternoon, so I can watch the shop for the last few hours as well as research any upcoming sales.”
“That would be awesome if you don’t mind. I didn’t sleep well last night. Nic was having one of his business meetings at the house and you know how long those go. I really need to find a place to buy.” Purchasing a house near the shop had been on my to do list since I’d finalized the store purchase. But since I was remodeling the compound as my first official job, I’d let Nic talk me into staying at the house for the duration rather than spend money at a hotel. I think at first, Nic was worried about what Aunt Franny might do if she caught me alone. She was still angry that I’d received Grandma’s inheritance, but at least she’d stopped randomly showing up at the shop to yell at me. Now, getting a house was my first priority. Well, second. Finding enough staff to keep the shop open at least bare bones hours had to be my first priority. Tomorrow. “I’m going to stop in the garden district to check out a new listing my realtor sent me this morning.”
“Woo hoo! You could ride the street cars to work and still not need a car.” Mel followed me out of the main floor showroom. The conference room was situated on the first floor so we could hear if any customers came into the shop is we were in a meeting. “I love my apartment over by Lafayette. Maybe you’ll be nearby?”
“I can’t afford to buy in your neighborhood and there’s no way I’m renting. I still have some of my inheritance left so I might as well put it into an asset that’s going up rather than spending it all here at the store.” I picked up a vase that had landed on the floor. Since it had been on the desk when I’d gone into the meeting, either Doyle or Tessa must have hit the corner of the desk and knocked it off as they left. Or it had been Harry, the building ghost. There was also another item on the floor. I didn’t recognize the small statue. It looked African in heritage but without studying it, it could have been Egyptian or from the southern part of the continent.
“Harry again?” Mel asked, watching me arrange the desk decorations.
I set down the statue. I’d find it in inventory tomorrow and move it back to where the ghost had grabbed it. “I guess. I know he wasn’t happy me adding in the design studio on the third floor, but now that Mr. Goldstein is on the other side as well, he doesn’t have much choice in the changes I make.”
“I don’t think he sees it that way.” Mel sat the papers down on a table. “Yesterday when I opened the store the entire third floor had been rearranged to block people from coming in from the stairwell. I about tripped over a step stool when I went to check the building.”
I decided to try something as I stared around the empty store. “Harry, you know you’re safe. Nothing’s going to happen to you, I promise. Stop moving around the furniture.”
Mel watched me talk to the resident ghost. “You really think that’s going to help?”
“It was worth a try. Annamae told me that sometimes spirits don’t like change because they think the new owner is going to find a way to kick them out. Goldstein ran this shop for decades. I think it’s going to take Harry some time to trust me.” I grabbed my raincoat and purse from the sales desk. “I’m going to walk to the street cars and ride them to this address. It’s right on the edge of the line. I’ll get my car when I come back. If you’re still here…”
“I probably won’t be. I told Tom I’d meet him for dinner at Two Sisters at five if that’s okay.” Mel didn’ t meet my gaze.
“Tom? I thought you two broke up?” It wasn’t my business, but Tom was a jerk to her.
Mel shrugged. “He called last night and wants to talk. I’m not getting my hopes up. If he wants me back, this time he’s going to have to woo me.”
“Good girl. Go have fun. The shop’s supposed to close at five on Tuesday’s anyway.” I almost said, go have a life. One of us should. Instead, I kept my thoughts to myself. I’d chosen this path knowing that owning an antique shop in the busy French Quarter of New Orleans would be time consuming at first. But with commuting out to the family compound, I barely had time to eat dinner and sleep before I found myself driving back in town.
I needed to buy a house nearby soon. Hopefully the price of this listing didn’t mean the property was unlivable. I didn’t want fancy, but I needed something that wasn’t much of a project. I already had one of those. I glanced around the shop one more time before stepping out onto the uneven brick sidewalk.
A homeless man was adjusting his spot against the wall of my building. Well, he had been homeless. Now he lived in an apartment in the back of my shop. I took a bottle of water with a five-dollar bill wrapped around it out of my tote. “Hi Kirk. How are you today?”
“Grumpy, same as yesterday.” He stared at the bottle. “You don’t have to give me money. I’m doing okay.”
“I can see that.” I squatted down to be eye level with the man. “You don’t want me to feel bad about you watching the store all the time? This lets me feel good about doing something for you. It’s your gift to me.”
“Well, just as long as you know I’d be fine without it.” He took the water bottle and took off the rubber band holding the money to it. “I’ll watch your place for you.”
“See? Now I’m getting top notch security for a reasonable price. You didn’t know I planned this all through, right?” I slapped my knee. “See you tomorrow. Stay warm.”
“Warm here isn’t a problem. Not like Seattle.” The man leaned back toward the wall as I walked away.
Seattle? Was that a coincidence that he mentioned my hometown, or had I told him that I used to live in the rainy city? I hurried to catch the next trolley car to the garden district. I’d run into a lot of ‘coincidences’ since I moved home. Between my grandmother’s gift and my own psychic ability, everything inside me was waking up and connecting to others in the area with the gift. It was like New Orleans had an invisible beacon calling out to the ones with just a little different power. Like me. Like my brother. It was why my father had been able to build such a large empire, training fortune tellers and grifters over the years. Now that Nic had taken over the family business, he’d told me that the less than legal side had been shut down. But people are people, even when corporate dictates changes. I just hoped that nothing would happen that would lead back to him.
“Not my problem,” I muttered and a tourist who was standing by a window display glanced up at me.
Great, now people think I’m talking to myself. I watched as woman hurried past me giving me a look. Glancing at my watch, I had just enough time to meet the next streetcar heading out of downtown.
Standing at the stop, I pulled out my monthly pass to slide through the change counter to pay for my entry. A woman behind me was handing out dollar bills to her husband and several kids.
“Now don’t drop these.” The mother warned as the trolley approached.
Her husband grumped. “I don’t know why you didn’t just pay for everyone.”
“They need the experience in doing this for themselves.” The woman brushed her young son’s hair out of his eyes. “Besides, it’s fun, isn’t it, Alex?”
The young boy was almost bouncing. He pointed down past the other streetlight. “The street car’s coming, see, right there!”
I held back and let the family go ahead, even though, as the father had predicted, the other child had already lost one of his dollars. When I swiped my card, I met the tired driver’s eyes. “Busy day?”
“Double shift today. One of our regulars called in sick. I’m ready to get home and put my feet up.” The woman smiled at me. “One more run and I’m out of here.”
I made my way down the walkway and found a seat near the back, away from the family. There were two types that rode the streetcars. Residents, like me, who were just trying to get back and forth to work or shopping. And the tourists. The members of the two groups were easy to pick out. Several of the residents slept the ride away. I didn’t know how they knew their stop was coming, but apparently, they didn’t sleep very deep. I was the opposite. When I finally fell asleep, nothing would wake me until my body said it was time to get up.
I sorted through email on my phone as I waited for my stop. I was riding all the way to the last stop before the streetcar turned around for the round trip. When it arrived, I was the only passenger still on the trolley. When I walked past the driver, the woman glanced at the neighborhood.
“You sure you want to get off here? It’s kind of out of the way.” The driver held out a hand, trying to slow my departure. “The next car won’t be here for more than twenty minutes.”
“I’m meeting a realtor here so I’m sure they will give me a ride back if the showing bombs.” I took in the older houses that surrounded the street. Several were being remodeled so they could be sold. This was probably going to be a flop too. I resigned myself to living at the compound for a few more years and wondered how I’d ever make it.
“You be safe then. Make sure you look like you know where you’re going. People leave you alone if you look strong. It’s the hunt mentality. They only prey on the weak and helpless.” She looked me over. “You carry yourself strong, girl. I just hope I don’t see your face on my paper tomorrow morning.”
I touched the woman’s arm and pushed a little good luck into her. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for looking out for me.”
A little stunned at the contact, the woman nodded. “I like my customers. It’s a good job.”
As I stepped out onto the street, I checked the note in my jacket pocket. From the directions, I only had to walk a block and the house would be on the next street to the left. I tucked the note away and headed to Prytania street.
When I found the address, I realized it was one of the old houses turned into two condos. Not exactly what I’d been hoping for. A small SUV sat in front of the house and Lisa Sanders waved at me from the driver’s seat. She was five foot tall and almost that wide. She climbed out of the car, her notebook and keys in her hand.
“Now, don’t cross this one off your list immediately.” Lisa gave me a quick hug. “I know you wanted a single-family house, but according to the listing, this place almost qualifies.”
“I’m confused, aren’t there two units in the house?” I scanned the front porch. Clearly there were two separate entrances, one on each side of the house.
“Let’s just look at the unit, then we can talk about its special features.” Lisa adjusted the notebook in her arms and started walking toward the house. “You’re going to love it. I promise.”
We entered the right front door that led into the large main floor living area and Lisa’s prediction came true. I fell in love.
2
I took a sip of the lobster bisque Annamae had made for our dinner’s starter. The food at home was just as good as most of the high-end restaurants in town. I sat my spoon down and forced myself to focus on Nic’s question rather than the taste of the soup. “Actually, it’s pretty perfect. The price is spot on and apparently the owner of the second unit only visits once a year. Can you imagine being that wealthy? To have a place everywhere you want to vacation?”
