Steve Robertson liked being retired. After years and years and years of battling traffic, dealing with obtuse bosses and clueless co-workers, he loved not having a schedule and never having any place in particular to go. He even liked living in Schuyler Square, although he had to admit that small town living took some getting used to. It was certainly different from their life back in Chicagoland but so far Steve was finding the change refreshing. Now if DeeDee would just give up on her whole haunted house theory, Steve knew that he could sink into retired bliss quite happily.
"Did you hear that noise last night?" DeeDee asked. She was making oatmeal for breakfast, something Steve loathed but tolerated because of his cholesterol level.
"What noise?" Steve asked, keeping his eyes on the newspaper. He was reading an editorial on the late Ron Schuyler that was so fawning that he thought he might throw up. Although Steve had never met Ron, he doubted that anyone other than a saint deserved the write up that one Mindy Cooper had given him. Man among men. Outstanding, committed citizen. Impossible to replace. None of those descriptions went with what Steve head heard about Ron around town since moving in. Despicable, skirt chasing, booze soaked creep would be more accurate.
"I woke up around two in the morning and I heard the strangest sounds coming from downstairs," DeeDee reported. "At first it sounded like someone crying and then it sounded like someone choking and finally I thought I heard a scream."
"Probably Chelsea next door," Steve said. "She looks like she does all three of those things on a regular basis."
"It wasn't Chelsea," DeeDee said. "I got up and looked out the window and her house was dark."
"People can cry, choke and scream in the dark," Steve pointed out. He stopped reading the editorial. What was the point of such a blatant suck-up piece? Ron Schuyler was dead. That Mindy Cooper must have some other angle in mind.
"It was coming from out living room, Steve."
Oh, no. DeeDee was starting again. "Are you saying Mary Austin was down in our living room gnashing her teeth last night?"
DeeDee set a bowl of oatmeal down in front of her husband. "You tell me," she said, pulling a piece of paper out of her bathrobe pocket. Steve stared at it.
"What the hell is that?"
"I found it on the mantle. Did you put it there?"
Steve picked up the paper and squinted at it. "Why would I leave an article on the break up of Burt Reynolds and Loni Anderson's marriage on our mantle?"
"I don't know but I do know that I didn't leave it there."
"Then who did?"
DeeDee's eyes met Steve's steadily. "Don't you know?"
"DeeDee, a ghost can't leave clippings from old issues of gossip magazines on our mantle!"
"Then you tell me what's going on."
Silently, Steve picked up his spoon and began eating oatmeal that tasted even pastier than usual. He didn't answer his wife because he honestly didn't know what was going on but he didn't like it. "I'm sure there's an explanation."
"Good because I'm sure of that too. As a matter of fact, Mindy Cooper's going to help me figure it out. She's coming over tonight and we're going to have a seance."
"Mindy Cooper--the paper's editor?"
"Yes--you don't mind, do you?"
Steve continued eating his oatmeal, not bothering to reply since he knew that the seance--whether he approved or not--was already a done deal.
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