Wilmington, NC 03 - Murder On The Ghost Walk

you were ,” I said. “ I asked about you every time I came home. It would have been fun to get together in New York. Someone from home to go clubbing with. But you're here now. Maybe we can go out some night. "
    "There are some new clubs ,” Teddy responded . “ We can give them a try . I ’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I didn't come home much, spent my school breaks in New York, so much to do there. Of course, I came back when mother died."
    "I heard about that, Teddy. I'm so sorry."
    "Thanks, Ashley. Anyway, two years ago, I moved back to North Carolina to work at UNC-TV in Chapel Hill. I've been trying to find a job in television here in Wilmington for a year, but that's not easy. I lucked out w hen Mirabelle offered me a spot on her show."
    I could understand why he felt grateful to Mirabelle. Wasn't I in the same boat?
    "How awful for you, Ashley, to find those skeletons. Do the police have any idea who they are and how they got in Shelby and Reggie's house?"
    "I don't know what the police think, Teddy, but everyone I talk to says they must be Shelby and Reggie."
    Teddy gasped. "Oh, don't say that! It's like you're putting a curse on them. They're very much alive. Mother used to get cards and letters from them from all over Europe. Did you know they partied with the royals? Fergie and her crowd."
    He got a dreamy look on his face. "I remember one summer they rented a villa in Tuscany. It had a romantic name, something like Santa Angela, or some name that had 'angel' in it. They invited me to visit but I was in summer school that year."
    "Are you sure, Teddy? Because this is critical information. You need to tell the police. Do you think your mother saved the postcards?"
    "Well, I don't know if she saved them or not but I'm sure about her receiving them. Most of our neighbors on Orange Street got postcards from all over Europe. Ask Sherman and Muffie Warner. Their house is right next door to Reggie and Shelby's, and they were best friends. I know they got them too."
    Teddy seemed so sure of what he was saying , I didn't know what to believe.
    "Well, I've got to go, Ashley. It's been great seeing you. Stop by my house someday . I'd like to show you what I'm doing to it . Mother left it to me, free and clear. "
    "Sure. I'd like to see it . Is our meeting with Mirabelle still on for tomorrow morning?"
    " Oh, y es. She said to remind you to be on time." He spread his hands apologetically. "She's a stickler for detail . That’s the secret of her success. She’s a very hands-on business woman. "
    After he left, I shook my head. Poor Teddy, what have you gotten yourself into?
    As I stared out the window at Chandler's Wharf, a truly incredible thought occurred to me. If Reggie and Shelby were alive as Teddy insisted, and as Henry Cameron believed, perhaps they were the killers instead of the victims. Perhaps that ’s why they left town so suddenly.

9

    The house I grew up in is one of the prettiest houses in Wilmington on one of the prettiest streets, Summer Rest Road. With three tiers of lacy white verandas across the front, and a widow's walk on top, it resembles a three-layer wedding cake. The porches and long windows offer spectacular views of the Intracoastal Waterway.
    I parked on a slip of brick pavers in front of the cottage next door where I live now , a small blue bungalow with pretty shrubs and a white picket fence. Melanie's SUV was not parked in Mama's driveway. I got out of my car and gave the marshes, sandbars, and distant Wrightsville Island a long, loving look. At the end of our pier, Melanie's sleek red speedboat bobbed in the water.
    Melanie must have come by boat and docked at Mama's. The weather was perfect for sail ing the Waterway . Perhaps she and her new mystery beau had taken the boat out for a spin earlier . I wondered again who he was and if he was anyone I knew.
    Someone was sitting in the boat and for one heart-stopping second I thought it was Daddy. But Daddy passed on six years ago, during my first year at Parsons. When I was a teenager, and we three bickering women got on his nerves, he'd escape to his fishing boat. He'd sit out there at the end of the pier, tying flies or just idling time, waiting for the storm to pass in our house.
    I lifted a hand to shade my eyes from the bright noonday sun. The stowaway was my mother, wearing one of Daddy's old fishing hats. It was so dangerous for her to be out on the water. I hurried to the end of the pier, quietly, not wanting to