The Ghost and The Haunted Mansion: A Haunted Bookshop Mystery

wanted to return the favor after her passing, so Miss Todd has bequeathed your store the entire contents of her large and varied library.”
    “Mercy!” Sadie exclaimed.
    “Wow,” I said.
    “That’s really nice,” Seymour agreed.
    “Every book in the Todd mansion is yours, ladies, with the exception of one special volume located in the master bedroom, which is to go to Mr. Tarnish as part of his inheritance.”
    “What do you know,” Seymour said, glancing at me and Sadie. “She left me a book, too.”
    “That’s not all she left you , Mr. Tarnish.” The lawyer swiveled his chair again and met Seymour’s eyes. “You have also inherited all of Miss Todd’s property in Quindicott.”
    Seymour stared. “What?”
    “You have inherited the property on Larchmont Avenue and everything inside it. You have also inherited the land the structure is built on, as well as the two outbuildings.”
    “Holy cow,” I whispered.
    “Heavens to Betsy,” Sadie rasped.
    Seymour still hadn’t uttered a word. He simply sat stiff as a cold corpse, his eyes bugging out.
    “Mr. Tarnish,” Stoddard said, “do you understand what I’m telling you? You are the primary beneficiary of Miss Todd’s estate. You have just inherited her Larchmont Avenue mansion.”
    “Seymour?” Aunt Sadie called. “Did you hear the man?”
    Seymour failed to respond.
    Will somebody shake that lug already! He’s staring into space like a beached sperm whale.
    “I think we should get him some water,” I announced.
    Mr. Stoddard buzzed his receptionist. The young woman in the black dress strode in with a bottle of water and a paper cup. We all waited for Seymour to take a long drink and get a grip. I tried not to look at the girl, who continued to stare at me through her rimless glasses.
    What’s with the chippy in black over here? Can she see me or not?
    “I can’t even see you, Jack. I can only hear you.”
    Well, can she hear me then?
    “How should I know,” I told the ghost. “Why don’t you ask her—”
    Okay, baby, if you insist.
    “Wait, Jack, maybe that’s not such a—”
    HEY THERE, SISTER! WHAT DO YOU KNOW, WHAT DO YOU SAY?!
    A frigid blast of air swirled through the room. For a moment, I sat unmoving; then with emotions somewhere between dread and curiosity, I forced myself to look at the young woman. She folded her arms, arched a jaded eyebrow, and smirked in my direction. That’s when Jack spoke again—
    BOO!
    The girl rolled her eyes. “Is he serious?” she mouthed to me.
    “Oh, my God, Jack,” I told the ghost. “I think she can see you and hear you.”
    Gee, ya think so?
    “Yes, and I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think you’re the first spook to say BOO to her, either.”
    “My, there’s a chill in here all of a sudden!” Aunt Sadie rubbed her arms. “Is your air conditioner broken, Mr. Stoddard? We have that same problem in our building all the time.”
    “I don’t know.” Mr. Stoddard scratched his receding hairline. “I’ll have to have it checked.”
    Sadie turned to our mailman. “Are you okay to continue, Seymour?”
    Seymour nodded mutely.
    Mr. Stoddard glanced at his young secretary. “That will be all for now, Miss Tuttle. In fact . . .” He checked his watch. “Why don’t you head home now? I’ll see you in the morning.”
    Miss Tuttle nodded and strode out of the room, shaking her long curtain of raven hair as if she were completely unimpressed by my ghost’s little display.

CHAPTER 7
     
    Change of Fortune
     
    If stirring things up is your system, I’ve got a swell spoon for you.
    —Red Harvest , Dashiell Hammett, 1929
     
     
     
     
    MR. STODDARD WENT back to explaining the terms of Seymour’s inheritance, but I couldn’t focus on the legal business. Not right away. My eyes glazed over as I tried to process the fact that another living human being had seen and heard the ghost of Jack Shepard.
    Or had she?
    Now you’re just second-guessing yourself.
    “She really did see and hear you, didn’t she?”
    What’s the matter, baby? Jealous?
    “Jealous?! Me? Of what?!”
    If this keeps up, you might have to share me with some other dames. You won’t have me all to yourself anymore.
    “I doubt that.”
    The ghost’s deep laugh echoed through my head.
    “Quit gloating.”
    “Excuse me?” Seymour said, turning to stare at me.
    I cleared my throat. “Uh, what?”
    “I’m not gloating, Pen,” Seymour said. “At least I wasn’t. But you know, after the