The Ghost and Mrs. Fletcher

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Book: Read The Ghost and Mrs. Fletcher for Free Online
Authors: Jessica Fletcher
impression on you as you made on her,” Seth said.
    â€œIf she’s quoting me, I’d like to see what I said.”
    â€œYou can look her up online like I did,” Eve said, letting a few crumbs of chopped meat fall on Cecil’s head.
    â€œBetter watch out,” Seth said. “Here comes Mara.”
    Eve used her foot to nudge her tote bag under the table, and faked a cough to cover a little yelp from Cecil.
    Bearing a pair of coffeepots, decaf in one hand, regular in the other, the proprietress of Mara’s Luncheonette approached our table. “How was lunch, folks? Anyone here need a refill on coffee?”
    â€œThe soup was delicious,” I told her.
    â€œPancakes were excellent as usual,” Seth said, pushing his cup in her direction. “You can top me off.”
    Mara dipped to the side as she poured coffee into Seth’s cup. “What about you, Sheriff?”
    Mort waved a hand over his cup. “I’m good.”
    She eyed the crumbled chopped meat on Eve’s plate. “Having a bit of trouble with your teeth, Ms. Simpson?”
    â€œ
Moi?
Oh, no.”
    â€œI can recommend a good dentist.”
    â€œMy teeth are just fine, thank you.”
    â€œThen do you want to take the rest of that home for your . . .
dog
?”
    Eve gave her a bright smile. “That would be wonderful.”
    Mara rolled her eyes. “That beef is choice, you know. Shouldn’t be wasted. We only use the best chopped meat for our customers.”
    â€œCecil is such an admirer of your hamburgers,” Eve said.
    Mara grunted. “Don’t think I’ve ever received a compliment like that. I’ll be right back.” She stopped at two more tables before depositing the coffeepots on their stands and bringing Eve a cardboard box for her leftovers. “Dessert, anyone?”
    We declined more food, although Seth asked to hear a list of the available pies before deciding he’d had enough sugar for the day. Cabot Cove’s favorite physician was accustomed to dispensing diet advice to his patients, but he found it difficult to follow his own orders.
    â€œNeed a lift home?” he asked as we left the luncheonette.
    â€œNo, thanks. I’m going to stop in at the library to see if Doris Ann signed up any volunteers to help me with the sale of Cliff’s books.”
    â€œYou should advertise it as a Halloween book sale,” Seth said. “Trick the house up with cobwebs and broomsticks. That way if any ghosts should happen to show up for your event, you can say it’s all part of the show.”
    â€œSeth! What a great idea.”
    â€œIt is? I thought I was making a joke.”

Chapter Five
    â€œW here do you want me to put these, Mrs. Fletcher?”
    Beth Conrad, the Conrad twins’ great-niece, held up two volumes,
Birds of New England
and
Training Your Puppy.
    â€œThere should be a carton of animal-related books on the table,” I said, pointing across Cliff Cooper’s library.
    Beth and her great-aunt Leticia—called Lettie by all who knew her—were helping me sort Cliff’s books into categories. It was a big project, and I was grateful for all the help I could get. We had plenty of boxes—generously donated by a local moving company—but volunteer sorters had been scarce after a story about the “haunted” Spencer Percy House surfaced in the
Cabot Cove
Gazette
. The editor, Evelyn Phillips, had jumped on the rumors when Eve had complained about the difficulty of getting good help to do the repair work. The newspaper had published a long article on the property and the recent strange goings-on, interviewing the roofers and one of the cleaning ladies, and ran a front-page photo of our favorite real estate agent standing next to the house.
    The newspaper editor was delighted when that issue of the
Gazette
sold out. Eve had been ecstatic. “Isn’t that the greatest publicity? And

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