Read Rocks & Gravel (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 3) for Free Online Page A

shut off the video?” I asked Hannah.
    “And how,” she said. “Felicia threatened to sue the museum for libel.”
    “After the meeting, she followed me out to my car to talk about it.” Rainey snorted and shook her head. “She’s about as smart as a jar of peanut butter, but her outrage is still loud enough to cause problems.”
    “I’ve got the minutes of the meeting,” Eddie said. “I’ll be happy to show ‘em to you if you want to know what-all got said.”
    I didn’t, not really. My imagination filled in the blanks pretty well by itself. Every gaze in the room rested on me, waiting for my answer. Would I help or not? I still wanted to say no. Hearing what happened to Priscilla Herrera for being different made refusal seem an even more attractive option.
    “Someone stole the journals for a reason,” I said. “If we can figure it out, it might go a ways toward finding who did it. I bet Sheriff Joey wanted the journals burned, right?”
    Hannah shifted in her chair and nodded, her eyes on the carpet.
    “Any other idea on why someone would want them?” I glanced at each person in the room in turn. If there was a way to get this done without using magic, I wanted to figure it out.
    “The journals have the exact wording of the curse in them.” Eddie scribbled something in his notebook. “Someone might think they can use the journals to get the curse off the treasure.”
    “If we’re going to call the motive for the theft magical,” Rainey said, “I have a theory the book on folk medicine actually belonged to Priscilla Herrera. Some of the stuff in it went further than herbs and roots.”
    I hunched my shoulders. More mumbo jumbo. Groovy.
    “These ledgers are an amazing representation of the darker side of Gaslight City’s history,” I said. “I am more sorry than any of you know they’ve been stolen, but I’m not sure—”
    “I see the no all over your face. Might as well be a flashing neon sign.” Rainey stood, smoothing down her skirt and making a face at the wrinkles sitting down had carved into it. “I’ve got to go back to the office.”
    “I’ve got Amanda’s laundry to do.” I pushed myself out of the chair.
    “I told you to bring it here,” Hooty said.
    “There’s too much. I couldn’t impose on you and Esther. I’ll take it to the laundromat.”
    “Watch out for the tweakers—I mean my clients,” Rainey said. To my surprise, she pulled me into a hard, fast hug. “Thank you for listening to us. Will you promise to give it some thought?”
    “I will.” My promise was really to figure out a way to resolve this without contacting the spirit world.
    Hannah and Eddie hugged me, too, and Hooty walked me to the door, planting a firm kiss on my cheek as I left.
    I hurried to my car, not wanting any more close encounters with tourists today, but I took my time lighting a cigarette and getting back into traffic as thoughts cluttered my mind. I kept coming back to the way Sheriff Joey and Felicia acted at the museum board meeting. Did either of them have enough larceny in them to steal the journals to keep people from seeing what a jerk their ancestor was? Yep. Absolutely. Would they take the risk? Much harder question. There was one person who might be able to give me some insight into them.
    Hannah Kessler.

3
    G aslight City’s nicest laundromat was located in a newish shopping center on Highway 59, nearly out of town. It catered to the folks who had houses on Piney Lake and featured top-of-the-line washers and dryers, an on-site attendant, and air conditioning. I didn’t go there.
    I went to the cheapest and least nice laundromat in Gaslight City, partially because it was less than two blocks from the Burns County Museum and partially because the less I spent washing the towels, the more money I’d make. The facility featured dirty floors, one broken dryer, and no air conditioning. Sweat pouring down my face and dripping off my jawbone, I divided Amanda’s towels