Ghost Blusters: Funny Cozy Mystery (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 5) Read online

  Ghost Blusters

  (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 5)

  Morgana Best

  Ghost Blusters

  (Witch Woods Funeral Home, Book 5)

  Copyright © 2017 by Morgana Best

  All rights reserved.

  Print ISBN: 978-1-925674-03-3

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The personal names have been invented by the author, and any likeness to the name of any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This book may contain references to specific commercial products, process or service by trade name, trademark, manufacturer, or otherwise, specific brand-name products and/or trade names of products, which are trademarks or registered trademarks and/or trade names, and these are property of their respective owners. Morgana Best or her associates, have no association with any specific commercial products, process, or service by trade name, trademark, manufacturer, or otherwise, specific brand-name products and / or trade names of products.

  By this act

  And words of rhyme

  Trouble not

  These books of mine

  With these words I now thee render

  Candle burn and bad return

  3 times stronger to its sender.

  (Ancient Celtic)

  Contents

  Glossary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Connect with Morgana

  Also by Morgana Best

  Glossary

  About Morgana Best

  Glossary

  The author has used Australian spelling in this series, so for example, Mum instead of the US spelling Mom, neighbour instead of the US spelling neighbor, realise instead of the US spelling realize. It is Ms, Mr and Mrs in Australia, not Ms., Mr. and Mrs.; cosy and not cozy; 1930s not 1930’s; offence not offense; centre not center; towards not toward; jewellery not jewelry; favour not favor; mould not mold; two storey house not two story house; practise (verb) not practice (verb); odour not odor; smelt not smelled; travelling not traveling; liquorice not licorice; lent not leaned; have concussion not have a concussion; anti clockwise not counterclockwise; go to hospital not go to the hospital; sceptic not skeptic; aluminium not aluminum; learnt not learned. These are just some of the differences.

  Please note that these are not mistakes or typos, but correct Aussie spelling and terms.

  AUSTRALIAN SLANG AND TERMS

  Big Smoke - a city

  Blighter - infuriating or good-for-nothing person

  Blimey - an expression of surprise

  Blue - an argument

  Bluestone - copper sulphate (copper sulfate in US spelling)

  Bluo - a blue laundry additive, an optical brightener

  Boot (car) - trunk (car)

  Bonnet (car) - hood (car)

  Bunging it on - faking something, pretending

  Cark it - die

  Come good - turn out okay

  Copper, cop - police officer

  Coot - silly or annoying person

  Drongo - an idiot

  Fair crack of the whip - a request to be fair, reasonable, just

  Flat out like a lizard drinking water - very busy

  Galah - an idiot

  Garbage - trash

  G’day - Hello

  Give a lift (to someone) - give a ride (to someone)

  Goosebumps - goose pimples

  Laundry (referring to the room) - laundry room

  Like a stunned mullet - very surprised

  Mad as a cut snake - either insane or very angry

  Miles - while Australians have kilometres these days, it is common to use expressions such as, “The road stretched for miles,” “It was miles away.”

  Mow (grass / lawn) - cut (grass / lawn)

  Stone the crows! - an expression of surprise

  Takeaway (food) - Take Out (food)

  Torch - flashlight

  Tuck in (to food) - to eat food hungrily

  Ute /Utility - pickup truck

  Vegemite - Australian food spread, thick, dark brown

  Wardrobe - closet

  Indigenous References

  Bush tucker - food that occurs in the Australian bush

  Koori - the original inhabitants/traditional custodians of the land of Australia in the part of NSW in which this book is set. Murri are the people just to the north. White European culture often uses the term, Aboriginal people.

  Chapter 1

  “Are you sure it wasn’t an accident?” I leant back in my chair and looked at the two detectives opposite me.

  I had met Detective Roy Prescott and Detective John Wilkinson only recently, after my mother hired an escort to show her the way to the Gold Coast in Queensland. My mother found the escort murdered in her bedroom, and I had to explain to the detectives that my mother thought an escort was a travel guide.

  I had hoped I would never see the detectives again, but now they were sitting in my office at Witch Wood Funeral Home, the business I had inherited from my father.

  Detective Wilkinson frowned at me. “The perpetrator reversed over the victim several times after hitting her with the stolen car.”

  “Oh.” There really was no suitable reply to that. “And so that’s why you have come to see me, because you think the murderer will come to the victim’s funeral?” I added.

  Both detectives nodded. I tapped my pen on the desk. “I’m a little confused. This won’t be the first time I’ve conducted a funeral for a murder victim, and police officers have been present every time.”

  Wilkinson and Prescott exchanged glances. “It’s your mother,” Wilkinson said. “We have just been to see her.”

  Prescott nodded. “We explained that we would be attending the funeral, and that we don’t want anyone to be aware of the police presence. We want to be completely incognito.”

  “And my mother had a problem with that?” I asked them. My mother was somewhat strange—and that’s the understatement of the century—but I couldn’t see why she would have a problem with the detectives being an anonymous presence at the funeral.

  Wilkinson rolled his eyes. “To tell the truth, we don’t know if your mother does have a problem. She wouldn’t even listen to what we had to say, because she was so distressed about you doing the funeral for the victim.”

  “She told us that in no uncertain terms,” Prescott added. He rubbed his temples hard with both hands.

  I sighed loudly. At first my mother had been annoyed when I conducted themed funerals such as a Kiss-themed funeral, a clown-themed funeral, and even an Elvis-themed funeral, but she had grown somewhat accustomed to them. In my mother’s eyes, however, this funeral was far worse. It was a funeral for the lead singer of a punk rock band, a young woman by the name of Jezza-Belle. That name alone had sent my mother into a headspin, but when she found out the name of the band was Th
e Vengeful Harlots, she had ordered me not to take on the funeral.

  “I’ll call Pastor Green and ask him to have a word with her,” I said. “If anyone can control Mum, he can, and he’s conducting Jezza-Belle’s service.”

  The detectives thanked me and left. I returned to my desk and reached out my hand for my phone, intending to call Pastor Green, when Ernie materialised in front of me.

  I dropped my iPhone in shock, but was relieved to see that the screen didn’t crack. “You scared me!” I said to Ernie.

  “I’m a ghost,” he said. “We scare people.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “You don’t scare anyone.”

  He wagged his finger at me. “But you just said I scared you. I don’t know why you jump every time I appear—after all, I’m the resident ghost.”

  I sat on my office chair. “Did you hear what the detectives said?” Ernie nodded. I pushed on. “Have you seen Jezza-Belle’s ghost yet?”

  Ernie shook his head. “No, sadly. She would be an interesting ghost, too, not like all those bland, boring ghosts that we’ve had lately. At least they crossed over quickly.”

  I knew where he was going with this. “Yes, and Jezza-Belle won’t cross over quickly, because she was murdered. Hopefully the police will find her murderer soon so that she won’t hang around here.”

  Ernie fixed me with a glare. “It’s all right for you, Laurel. I’ve only got you and Basil to talk to. It gets awfully boring around here.”

  I looked at the apparition appearing behind him. She was wearing an angry expression, plenty of tattoos and piercings, and the hair part of her mohawk was bright red and very high.

  “I don’t think you’re going to be bored for long, Ernie,” I said.

  Chapter 2

  Basil, my new boyfriend and the funeral home’s long-term accountant, was at the funeral for moral support. Goodness knows I was going to need it. I had worded up Pastor Green, and he had promised he would do the best he could with my mother.

  The one person in this whole affair who was happy was Janet, the funeral home’s cosmetician. “I’ve never worked on such an interesting person,” she said again and again.

  I hadn’t seen Jezza-Belle’s ghost since her brief appearance in my office, and the funeral preparations had proceeded smoothly. “Where’s your mother?” Ernie whispered in my ear. “I thought she’d be here by now, preaching hellfire and brimstone.”

  I looked around to make sure nobody could see me speaking to what would look like thin air before I responded. “I’m in luck this time. She’s very excited because she’s been asked to sing at the annual church concert. It’s going to be held directly after the funeral, so with any luck, she’ll go straight to church and not come here.”

  Ernie gestured to the door. “Your luck’s just run out.”

  Mum marched straight over to me and grabbed me by the arm. “Laurel, I’ve been so preoccupied with the church concert that I forgot to ask you. You won’t be playing rock ‘n’ roll music, will you?”

  I narrowed my eyes, and thought that Mum looked a little out of place in her tweed skirt, thick pantyhose with sturdy, sensible, flat black shoes, and cashmere twinset and pearls. The crowd gathered so far were stereotypical rock musicians, so Mum stood out like a sore thumb. “The two band members are paying for Jezza-Belle’s funeral, so I’ll play whatever they want me to play.” I addressed her in the most firm tone I could muster.

  Mum gasped. “If you listen to rock music, you’re going to have to be delivered from the demon of rock ‘n’ roll!”

  Ian, Mum’s much younger church friend, appeared at Mum’s shoulder and nodded vigorously. “Everyone here will need deliverance,” he said through narrowed eyes.

  Mum’s hand flew to her mouth. “I was delivered from the demon of rock music just before you were born, Laurel. Perhaps you need to be delivered, too! That’s where I went wrong with you.”

  Ian was still nodding. “If you play rock music backwards, it’s the devil speaking,” he said sagely. I resisted the urge to slap him only with some difficulty.

  Just then, the other two members of The Vengeful Harlots walked over to me. They were dressed pretty much as they had been at the booking consultation. Lotti Lovelace was wearing a huge, fluffy pink boa with purple baubles. She was wearing very little else, unless you counted the tight, low-rise, black vinyl pants and the scanty black top. Delilah Divine wore a royal blue strapless dress so short that I hoped she wouldn’t lean forwards—even slightly—along with black slashed pantyhose, and a hat perched at an angle on the top of her high-rise hairstyle.

  Their timing couldn’t have been worse. They looked at Mum and Ian and then at me, so I realised I had no choice but to introduce them. “This is my mother, Thelma, and her friend, Ian. Mum and Ian, this is Lotti Lovelace and Delilah Divine.”

  Mum nearly passed out on the spot. “Delilah, Delilah,” she sputtered. “And she’s certainly not divine! Blasphemy!”

  I looked around wildly for help from Pastor Green. I caught sight of him over by the music system, sadly about to start the music. I knew that would make matters even worse. Mum and Ian clutched each other as the music blared. “Such foul language!” Mum said, releasing Ian to cover her ears with her hands.

  Lotti and Delilah appeared to be offended. “That song was 638 on the Australian music charts last year,” Lotti said proudly.

  “It should have been 666,” Ian said.

  Delilah looked at Ian and then Mum. “Aren’t you too old for your little boyfriend?”

  Ian’s jaw dropped open. “The devil is a slanderer and a liar! I’ll have you know I have a girlfriend, Audrey.”

  Mum grabbed me by the elbow and dragged me into my office. “They’re harlots, harlots all right!” she screeched.

  I quickly shut the door behind her. “Mum, shush! Someone will hear you. You can’t say such things. They paid for the funeral, and I have to give them the same quality of service as anyone else.”

  Ernie, who was sitting on the edge of my desk, raised his eyebrows.

  Mum was on a roll. “Don’t you tell me to shush, Laurel! Jezebel was a harlot and Delilah was a harlot, and those two women have made themselves into harlots. And what’s more, now one of them is dead, just like the real Jezebel.”

  I crossed my arms, and tried to think of something to say when Jezza-Belle materialised right behind Mum. “Who killed me?” she asked loudly. “I have to know who killed me.”

  Ernie groaned. “Here we go again! She’s going to ask you to investigate her murder so she can cross over.”

  “Shush! You’ll give her ideas,” I said to Ernie.

  Mum, of course, thought I was talking to her. “Don’t you tell me to shush. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, that’s no way to speak to your betters!”

  Jezza-Belle’s face lit up, as far as I could tell through the huge dark sunglasses. “You can do that? If you find out who killed me, I’ll find peace? Go to the other side? There is another side?”

  I pointed Ernie. “Ernie has all the answers.” I shot him a filthy look.

  My mother gasped. “Laurel, you heard too much of that rock music, and it’s affected your mind. You need to be delivered!”

  Jezza-Belle was evidently offended. “What’s her problem?”

  “That girl was a dreadful sinner,” Mum said angrily, “a dreadful, dreadful sinner. She wore marks on her body, and piercings, just like all the devil worshippers do. And she called herself after that terrible sinner, Jezebel. Why, I bet she’s possessed by a Jezebel spirit!”

  Basil burst into the office at that point, clearly to protect me, although his timing was little off. “What’s a Jezebel spirit?” he made the mistake of asking.

  “Men were created to be the bosses of women,” Mum said. “A man always has the authority over a woman. Women are to listen to their husbands and do what they tell them to do. A woman should never speak when a man is speaking.”

  “But…,” Basil be
gan, but Mum interrupted him.

  “Hush, I’m speaking, Basil. As I said, a woman should never speak when a man is speaking. Men are cleverer and stronger and more intelligent than women. A woman should always follow a man’s lead.”

  Ernie burst into a fit of laughter. “Your mother’s out of her tree, Laurel,” he said through his chuckles.

  “I fail to see the funny side of it,” I said to Ernie. “My mother alone could set feminism back a hundred years. It’s a wonder she thinks it’s good that we got the vote.”

  “I don’t think a married woman should vote,” my mother said in a smug, sanctimonious voice. “God has appointed man as head over the woman, so only the husband should vote.”

  I closed my eyes and counted to five to try to calm myself, but Mum was still talking. “And, Laurel, I can’t believe you’re doing a funeral for that nasty little strumpet and her ungodly friends.”

  I shot another look at Jezza-Belle, and was at once concerned. She was shimmering strangely, and a deep red glow was emanating from her aura. I had never seen a ghost do that before. At first I wondered if it was because she was a new ghost, but then I realised that my mother’s words had driven her into a frenzy.

  My mother, the only one in the room who could not see Jezza-Belle, continued on. “Rock music is evil, I tell you, Laurel! I heard it when I was expecting you, and look how you turned out!”

  Basil leapt to my defence. “Mrs Bay, I’ve told you not to insult Laurel.” He probably would have said more, but he stopped talking to stare at Jezza-Belle. She had doubled in size, and appeared to be in the midst of an angry red whirlwind.