Heat Wave Homicide

A terrible heat wave has fallen over Firefly Junction and tempers are flaring. With triple digit temperatures and humidity thick enough you can cut it with a knife, a chili cook-off is the last place journalist Sunni Taylor wants to be but Prudence Mortimer, the owner of the Junction Times wants her to cover the event. When one of the competitors is stabbed to death in the parking lot the cook-off really heats up. Sunni is no longer covering recipes and pepper eating contests. She has a murder to solve, and the triple digit temperatures aren’t going to stop her.

“Pray tell, why are you standing in front of the box that holds the food and ice? You remind me of that nitwit Henry. He used to stare into that box as if it was giving him all the secrets of the world." Edward leaned casually against the kitchen wall, looking, as ever, cool and comfortable.

I swung shut the refrigerator door. The wisp of cool air that blew against me nearly caused me to open and shut it again. "I am standing here because it is the coolest place in the house right now. In case you haven't noticed, and clearly you haven't, we are in the middle of a heat wave, a suffocating, oppressive, might as well be living on Venus heat wave."

"Truly? You're right. I haven't noticed, but that would explain your rather questionable state of undress."

I looked down at my shorts. "This is not a state of undress. This is a state of appropriate clothing when it's hot enough to cook eggs on the front steps. This is the appropriate state of dress when I want to avoid collapsing from heat exhaustion, which may still happen because my boss, Prudence Mortimer—"

"Ah yes, the elderly woman who still wears a bustle."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, well, that is not a bustle, that is all Prudence. Anyhow, she has assigned me to what I have now deemed the worst assignment of my career, and, considering I once covered a massive sewage spill in the city, that is saying a lot."

"Sewage—does that mean what I think—"

"Yes, it means that. And it was in the middle of summer, although it wasn't during a heat wave."

"A heat wave?" Edward asked. "I suppose that one is easy to interpret as well." He moved to the window. "That would explain why the birds seem to be panting like dogs after a hunt and why the wildflowers that were growing in the field across the road are drooping. It's odd not being able to feel the air anymore. However, I do remember long, hot summers. After all, we weren't allowed to traipse around half naked back then."

"I know and I can't imagine. Especially for men with your breeches and waistcoats. Must have been positively torturous."

"Speaking of torturous"—Edward was still gazing out the window—"here comes your silly friend."

"I guess she must be silly because she thinks you're the bee's knees." Sometimes I just couldn't help myself. I had to throw out an idiom or two just to confuse him. And I really nailed it with this one.

Edward floated back across to where I stood. A small wisp of his cool ghostly aura swept over me. It felt refreshing. "Oh my gosh, do that again. It was like a little burst of air conditioning."

"Never mind that. What does she think I am? Did you say the bee's knees?"

I grinned. "That's what I said." I headed to the door to let Raine in. Normally, a knock on the front door would send Redford and Newman into a wild welcoming frenzy, but neither dog could be bothered to even lift a head from their pillows.

"That's preposterous. Do bees even have knees?" Edward asked as I swung open the door.

"Hurry, you're letting all the hot air in." I waved Raine inside.

She stood in the entry. "Uh, I think it's too late. The hot air is inside." She handed me a frosty cup. "One berry blast smoothie, extra cold and extra berry-ish."

"You're the best." I took a long drink through the straw. Raine lifted her hand to warn me, but it was too late, I'd passed the safe zone on drinking something frosty. The pain went right to my forehead. I pressed my hand against it. "Ouch, ouch, darn brain freeze."

"That's because you stood in the cold food box all morning, and I hardly think a brain can actually freeze." Edward swept away again. He wasn't always keen to stick around when Raine was in the house. She did tend to pelt him with nonstop questions.

"He's so cute when he's all nineteenth century," Raine said. "I guess they didn't have ice cream or ice cold drinks back then, so Edward never experienced brain freeze. How sad that would have been to go through summer without ice cream or smoothies."

"Let's go in the kitchen. It's at least a smidgen cooler than the entry. Didn't you get yourself a smoothie?"

"Drank it all on the way over."

"I have some iced tea in the refrigerator. Would you like some?" I headed to the cupboard for a glass.

"Yes and extra ice."

"My supply is low because I've been using so much of it. Can you believe these temperatures?" I took the iced tea pitcher out and carried it to the table with a glass of ice.

"Guess what story I have to cover this week, starting tomorrow when the temperature is going to blast past a hundred."

"Let me guess?" Raine sipped her tea. "A wool sweater knitting circle?"

I laughed. "No, but that would be equally bad. I've got to cover the big chili cook-off."

"Ew, you're right. Hot, spicy chili doesn't sound too appealing in this weather. At least it's being held in the park."

"Yes, but the shade trees are scarce. And every table is going to have hot steaming pots of chili. Then there's the whole obvious problem that I went to school for four years so I could cover big bellied men in their fancy aprons chopping onions and hot peppers."

"Not exactly the glamorous lifestyle you imagined, I suppose." Raine leaned back with a sigh. Her face was red from the drive over and the walk up to the stoop. She pressed the cold glass against her cheek. "Where did he disappear to?" she asked.

"Who knows? He might even be here but he's being coy."

"I'm never coy," Edward's disembodied voice came from somewhere in the room.

"See what I mean?" I took a slower, more measured drink from my smoothie. "This is so good. I wish I could bathe in it."

"Strange thing to say." Edward was still only being heard and not seen.

"Either join us or head to one of your other hangouts. It's always creepy having you just comment from thin air."

Edward appeared on the hearth. "Hasn't this been a successful day. I've been called coy. I've been referred to as bee's knees and now I'm creepy."

Raine's eyes always sparkled behind her glasses whenever Edward made an appearance. She had formed somewhat of a crush on my resident ghost, which was, all at once, kind of weird but very Raine-like.

"Bee's knees is a good thing," Raine explained.

"And why is that?" Edward asked.

Raine rubbed her chin in thought. "You know what? I have no idea. We don't really use that phrase anymore. I think they used it in the roaring twenties."

Edward's dark brows pushed together in confusion as he looked at me. "Roaring twenties? She speaks even more gibberish than you."

"Yes." I lifted my cup to hers for a toast. "We're the gibberish sisters, and we exist solely to irritate you with our gibbers."

Raine laughed nearly spitting out her iced tea. "Is gibbers really a word?"

"Yes, it's what one is doing when one speaks gibberish. Although, admittedly, I used it as a noun, and that isn't correct syntax."

"Fine, miss journalist, enough of the grammar lecture. So when does the chili festival start?"

"They're setting up tomorrow. I'll get there early and hopefully beat some of the worst heat of the day."

"I've cancelled all my tarot card readings through the weekend. My tiny front room gets so hot. Then filling the space with incense and candles, nope, nope, nope. People's futures are just going to have to wait. I'm thinking of buying one of those kiddie pools I saw at the store. I'll fill it with ice cubes and cold water, put on my swimsuit and sunglasses, fix myself a glass of lemonade and just sit in it."

"That actually sounds divine. I might just join you, so buy one of those deluxe kiddie pools."

Raine's phone vibrated. "Ugh, probably Mrs. Swanson. She comes every Friday to have me read her tea leaves. I'm sure she's upset I cancelled." Raine looked at her phone, and her eyes rounded. A smile appeared next. "I wasn't expecting this," she said.

"Mrs. Swanson?" I asked.

"No, it's Dex Sheffield. Remember my friend, Dex?"

How could I forget? Raine was smitten with the man because he was considered an expert in all things ghost. At first, it seemed he was a charlatan and that his spirit world expertise was merely a façade, a way to get attention and fans, but it turned out Dex really did have a special talent when it came to incorporeal beings. He spotted and spoke to Edward with ease. Raine had no idea because Dex also had a strong code of ethics when it came to ghosts. He respected their world and their privacy. He never mentioned Edward's existence to Raine (even though that ship had now long sailed). I was grateful he was a man of his word. He was also quite enjoyable in general.
"Yes, of course I remember Dex. I thought you two had parted ways."

"Only in the romantic sense. I mean it was hard for me to keep up my admiration for the man after I realized his sixth sense was only an act."

"An act?" Edward had vanished and just as quickly reappeared. "Why, that man—"

"Uh yes, Raine. I can see that. After all, he didn't seem to sense Edward in the house at all." I cast Edward a stern look hoping he'd catch my intentions. Dex's secret wasn't ours to tell. He didn't seem interested in broadcasting his true talents to the world. I waved my hand at Edward. "Don't you have something ghost-y to do."

"Something ghost-y?" he asked wryly. "Why, of course, why don't I float off and do ghost-y things. After all, the conversation in this room couldn't get any more ridiculous if the dogs sat up and joined in." Edward vanished.

Raine turned to me, some of the sparkle still in her eyes. "Why does his sarcasm sound so likable in that posh English accent? I feel like he could say anything, and it would sound lyrical and poetic."

"That stems from the little discussed and well-known infatuation we American women have with British men and their lyrical accents. I can assure you, when you've heard his sarcasm enough times, it starts to sound altogether less poetic and far more irritating. What did Dex have to say?"

"That's the exciting part. He arrives in Firefly Junction this evening. He'll be staying at the Thornbridge Hotel. He says there is a great deal of paranormal activity in that hotel because it has such a long, rich history." Raine rolled her eyes. "He still considers tiny noises in the night and the occasional brush of cold air true ghost encounters. If he only knew," Raine said haughtily as if she'd discovered Edward all on her own with her sixth sense. It wasn't until I'd made the decision to reveal Edward's existence to her, a reward for her saving Jackson's life, that she finally came face-to-face with the ghost she'd pursued for so long. Her reaction, a quick, dead faint, wasn't exactly the stuff of ghost whispering legend. I was more than a little curious to see how it would all play out if Dex came to the inn with Raine now able to see and hear Edward. There was only one way to find out.

"You have to bring him here for dinner one night," I suggested. "I'd love to see him again. Jackson was fond of him too, and Jax is not someone who hands out fondness easily."

"I'll do that." Raine had a calculating grin on her face. I could almost see tiny gears spinning. "I think I'll play a little ghost hunting trick on him, if that's all right."
"If it amuses you." (By that I really meant yes, that would amuse me.)

"I won't give away your secret of course but maybe, for once, I can get Dex to admit that a lot of his ghost experiences have been little more than disturbances in sound and air."

"Not sure how you'll go about it without giving away my secret, but I'm sure you'll figure it out." I took a last draw on the straw down to the bottom of the cup until it made that loud, impolite sound that parents scolded you about in a restaurant. "That sure helped cool me from the inside, but there is no air circulating in this kitchen, open windows or not. I'm beginning to think I should have left all the windows closed so the outside heat and humidity couldn't get in. Now that I've voiced that unnecessary thought, let's go outside and sit on the front stoop. My brain is melting after the initial freeze and thinking straight is becoming a chore."

Raine laughed. "A little dramatic but I don't mind the idea. I think I'll take a refill on the ice and tea before we head out."