Ghost a La Mode (11 page)

"Elizabeth is my mother's name." Emma looked back down at the graves. "In looking up our family history, we found a lot of women named Elizabeth over the years." She looked back up at Granny. "Starting with Winston's daughter."

"My son did not forget me." Granny raised her head in pride.

Emma stood up. Spotting a nearby bench empty of both the living and the dead, she made her way for it and sat down. The day had been a great drain. With the long drive and now the graveyard, Emma was downright spent, both physically and emotionally. She was glad she'd made her way to Julian during the week, when visitors were scarce. She would not have liked sharing her finds at the cemetery with the usual tourists.

"Granny," she said, once she collected her thoughts, "if you never had any grandchildren while you were alive, why were you called Granny Apples?"

"It had to do with the pies," Granny explained with a slight smile. "Jacob always said I looked like an old, bent granny when I rolled out the dough. He'd tease me, calling me Granny Apples. A lot of other folks in town picked it up, especially after I won my first pie contest."

At the mention of pie, Emma realized that she was getting hungry. Looking at her watch, she saw it had been nearly two hours since she'd had the pie and coffee. She needed dinner-a good, solid dinner.

In spite of her hunger, Emma remained on the bench a little longer. Granny had disappeared and so had some of the other spirits. After reflecting on her day and what she'd learned, Emma got up from the bench and returned to Jacob and Ish's graves. Taking her cell phone out of her bag, she used the camera feature to take a couple of photographs of the graves and the surrounding area. Then she took out a small pad of paper and a pencil and made a rubbing of the nameplates. The etching on the metal plate wasn't very deep, but she was able to get a fair imprint of the names. After, she followed the paved access road down to the town and made her way to the Julian Grille, where she dined alone, without the company of ghosts.

"ARE YOU SURE THIS is where you lived?" Emma asked Granny.

Following Granny's directions, Emma had driven a couple of miles out of town. They'd left the main road and followed another paved road lined with trees before Granny pointed to a small lane branching off to the left and dipping into a shallow valley. There was a white fence around the property but no gate blocking the road.

"The trees are bigger, and we didn't have no fancy fence like this, but this is our road. I'm sure of it."

"It's probably private property, Granny. We could be trespassing."

"I've never come to it this way since I passed, but it's our property, I tell ya." Granny looked at her. "You being a fraidy cat again?"

Emma let out a big sigh. She hadn't been brought up to invade other people's property, but what harm could it do? There wasn't a gate, just fencing on either side of the road. And Granny was probably wrong. How could she be so sure after all this time? Especially since for the past hundred years, she'd been traveling by popping in and out of places and not over physical roads.

Nosing the car down the narrow road, Emma followed it through a large meadow with cattle grazing on either side. Soon the fence opened to another lane on the left. Over it was a large arch that proclaimed it to be the Bowers ranch. Down this small road, Emma could see a large house with matching barn, stables, and assorted outbuildings, all beautifully built and maintained.

"Bowers ranch. Does that name mean anything to you, Granny?"

"There was a Buck Bowers, but I don't recall him having a ranch, especially not out this way. It was just our place at the end of this road."

Emma drove a little farther until the road dead-ended at a clearing. Granny was gone when the car stopped. Emma climbed out of the car. With Granny gone, she wasn't sure what she should be looking for.

Just to the right of the road was a large clearing. A few massive, solitary trees were scattered about the area, with a large bank of trees a couple hundred yards away.

After maneuvering through a small opening in the fence, Emma made her way toward the clearing. The cattle seemed content to stay at the far end, closer to the main road.

Here and there in the grass, Emma discovered large pieces of decaying wood. She nudged some of it with her foot, only to discover it had become embedded into the ground over time. A little farther, she came upon a circular pile of carefully set stones: an old well. Someone had taken the precaution of securing a metal lid over the opening and padlocking it. Emma noted that the lid was rusty, but the lock looked fairly new. Continuing, she found odd bits of rusty metal and more chunks of wood. The wood was ragged in shape, but it was clear to see that at one time the pieces had been shaped with smooth, straight edges.

Emma continued to scrutinize the area, locating another spot of interest. This time, stones had been set into the ground in a rectangular pattern. She followed it, using her foot to trace the lines, guessing it could have been a hearth.

"Granny, you going to help me out here?" Emma called gently.

"That's where I was hung," came a voice behind her.

Startled, Emma gave a little jump. Turning around, she saw Granny staring at a large tree not far from where they stood. Emma turned her gaze upon the innocent-looking tree and studied it. It was an old oak, sturdy, with many branches that could have done the job. She shuddered.

"Was your house here?" she asked the ghost. She traced again the barely noticeable rectangle of stones in the ground.

Granny nodded. "Our cabin was there. The barn there, beyond the tree" She pointed.

Emma kicked another small pile of rocks, and a snake slithered out from under them. She gasped and jumped back.

"Not a rattler," Granny announced. "Won't hurt you."

"There are rattlesnakes out here?" Emma looked at Granny in horror.

"'Course there are. Lots of 'em."

Emma turned and headed for the car, slipping in her haste but regaining her balance before falling.

Granny followed. "They won't hurt you none if you leave them be."

"Rattlesnakes were not part of the bargain, Granny." In squeezing back through the fence, Emma's shirt got hung up.

"They mostly stay in the woods. Don't like people none."

Emma yanked her arm and heard a rip as she freed her shoulder. When she reached the car, Granny wedged herself between Emma and the car door.

"This ain't the city. Lots of critters out here."

It crossed Emma's mind to simply reach through Granny's hazy torso, open the car door, and hop in. But she'd done it before and knew Granny didn't like it. Snakes or not, Emma felt she should honor Granny's boundaries.

"What did you expect, Emma?" The ghost tapped her booted foot with impatience.

"I'm not sure what I expected, Granny."

Emma looked around, noticing for the first time how solitary the area was. She could see the Bowers house in the distance, but if a snake, or even something more menacing, attacked her, who'd hear? She was used to urban threats, not ones that came from nature. She wished she'd given it some thought and had come better prepared, especially in the clothing department. Her silk camp shirt was torn, and her floral capri pants looked ridiculous. She wished she'd worn her pants from last night, but they were dirty from her stumble in the graveyard. Still, better dirty than absurd. She looked down and swore softly. Open-toed, expensive canvas wedge shoes were hardly suitable for kicking around in the dirt and scrub brush, no matter how comfy and cute they were in the city. And they certainly weren't appropriate for walking in cow dung. If something did try to chase her, even an annoyed cow, she'd be dead meat.

Emma sighed deeply as she wiped the manure on her foot off on the grass. Granny was counting on her. Aunt Kitty was counting on her. Even her mother was expecting her to get to the bottom of things. She wished she had told Tracy about Granny. Tracy was a resourceful woman. She'd probably know what to do.

"Pull yourself together, Emma," she said to herself out loud. "You can do this."

"Of course you can."

Emma looked down into the weathered and expectant face of the ghost of Granny Apples-a woman who'd been wrongfully hung for the death of her husband. She'd waited over a hundred years for someone to help her.

After a moment, Emma lifted her eyes from Granny's face and scanned the area, taking in the brush, trees, nearby meadow, and last remnants of what had been a life once upon a time. It was a beautiful area. As she looked around at the peaceful countryside, Emma wondered what it would be like to wake up every morning to such natural beauty and quiet. It was probably heaven on earth.

When she turned her attention back to Granny, the ghost had disappeared. Emma opened the car door and retrieved the pad of paper from her bag. She sketched the area, noting where the house and barn had been, following the description Granny had given her earlier. Being no artist, the buildings were merely boxes. She added a few dismal stick trees, including the hanging tree and the road, for perspective. Once again, she took out her cell phone and took a couple of photos, including a couple of the Bowers ranch. Then she made a quick call to Tracy, hoping her reception would be clear.

After exchanging pleasantries, Emma cut to the reason she called. "What do you know about tracing a piece of property?"

"Not much. Why? And where are you?"

"I'm in Julian. You know where that is?"

"Julian? The apple town way the hell down by San Diego?"

"That's the place. Have you been here before?"

"Sure, years ago, on a romantic fling. The romance didn't last, but the weekend was fun." Tracy paused. "Are you buying property in Julian?"

"No, but I'm interested in the history of a piece of land here. It's a project I'm working on for a friend." Emma looked around but still didn't see Granny.

"Well, I'm not sure myself, but I have a friend from my yoga class who might know. She's a real-estate attorney, I believe. You have any information on it, like an address, lot number, owner? Anything like that?"

"Not yet, just possibly the last name of Bowers."

"Even I know that's not a lot to go on." There was a pause, during which Emma could hear Tracy giving a complicated coffee order to someone. "Sorry," she said when she came back on the line. "My turn to get the coffee for my department meeting. Why we can't just meet here, at the coffee shop, is beyond me."

"Why don't you ask your friend what's needed to search back history on property? And I mean back history, like a hundred years ago. I'll try to get more information in the meantime. I'll be-"

"Hey, wait a minute," interrupted Tracy. "Does this have anything to do with that seance we went to? That guy, Milo, didn't he say something to you about Julian?"

Emma hesitated before answering. "I don't remember."

"Bull pucky. Did you even know Julian existed a few weeks ago? I'll bet not."

With distaste, Emma looked down at the pucky still on her shoe. "I was curious, that's all. Had some time to kill while my folks and Kelly are away, so I thought I'd check it out."

"Uh-huh. And now you want to know the history of some property in Julian?"

Before Emma could answer, Tracy let out a loud gasp. "Oh my God! I remember now. That spirit at the seance was from Julian, wasn't she? You know, the one who wanted to chat you up?"

"Tracy, please, keep it down." Even though Emma was nowhere near the coffee shop, she was embarrassed to have her situation broadcast to the world.

"How long are you going to be in Julian?" Tracy's words came in a rush. "If I leave right after my one o'clock meeting, I can be down there in time for cocktails and dinner. Where are you staying?"

"I don't need you to come down here, Tracy. I'm simply looking into some interesting facts. Seems our family did come from Julian after all."

"Uh-huh. So why do I have goose bumps right now?"

"The air conditioning's set too high in Starbucks?"

"Oh, please tell me, Emma. Did the ghost follow you home like a lost puppy or something?"

"Tracy, I just need to know how to trace some property that might have belonged to my family a very long time ago. That's all."