Spooky Business (The Spectral Files #3) - S.E. Harmon Page 0,64

care about our family traditions when I was alive. Why would she care now?” Ruth shook her head. “She’s gonna sell it for whatever she can get. My mother passed those earrings down to me, and her mother gave me that brooch.”

“What if Darla promises not to sell any of it?”

“Spiteful old witch,” Darla muttered.

I sent her an exasperated glance. “You’re not helping. She can hear you.”

“Well, she was,” Darla burst out. “Never did want me in the family.”

Ruth’s eyes popped open. “That’s a load of crap. I always wanted a daughter,” she snapped, “but she thought she was too good for Ralph and me.”

“What if you gave the jewelry to Ralph, then?” I suggested.

“What?” Darla cried. “That bastard ran off when our son was eight years old. He’s the one who would pawn the jewelry in six seconds.”

I rubbed my temples and directed my next comments to Ruth. “Look, there’s a reason why you stayed. You could’ve gone with Ralph, but you chose to stay here.”

“Because this was my home. And she’s my family. We argued like cats and dogs, but she’s still my family.” She frowned to herself. “Probably too much alike, if you ask me. Cut from the same ornery cloth.”

“Family isn’t always about like,” I said. “Sometimes it’s about trust and love.”

“I want to give the pearl ring to Max,” Darla said. “He’s getting married in a few months. You’d think she’d want Max to give his wife a family ring.”

Ruth didn’t hesitate. “I do.”

“She does,” I said. “She just doesn’t know if she can trust you.”

“Stubborn old mule,” Darla snapped. “I love you. I loved you then and I still do. Why do you think I sit out here with you every damned night? Why do you think I read the paper aloud?”

Ruth rocked a bit more, her brows drawn together.

“Well?” I prodded.

A sigh escaped her. “Don’t think I’m gonna forget about that old mule thing,” Ruth said.

“She loves you, too,” I told Darla, and the ghost didn’t disagree. Darla knuckled her eyes and swiped at a few tears. “Now, where’s the jewelry?”

“In a coffee can. It’s under the loose step on the back porch, right by the grill. If it was a snake, it woulda bit her,” Ruth grumbled. “I guess it’s only right that my son’s wife… no, my daughter should have it.”

I turned to Darla. “She said it was only right that her daughter should have the jewelry.”

Darla immediately protested. “She doesn’t have… oh. Oh.” She put a hand over her heart. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s a first,” Ruth informed me. “You see why we argue so much?”

I stifled a laugh. “I did my part,” I said. “I know where the jewelry is. Now it’s your turn.”

“I told you the truth before,” Darla said. “I didn’t know no Delilah Rose. I was just doing a favor for a neighbor. She was a lovely lady who worked at the gardening center up the street. She always had the most beautiful yard.”

“Delilah?”

She tsked impatiently. “No, Emma.”

I pulled out my phone and scrolled until I found a picture of Delilah. I turned the screen to Darla. “This her?”

She stared at the photo for a moment, expressionless. Then her eyes shifted. That was all the confirmation I needed. Besides, if she could recognize me, a man she’d never met before, from a grainy newspaper photo, she could recognize anyone. “Is this the woman you knew as Emma?” I prodded.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” I raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to have to give me a little more than that. I did some beyond the grave shit for you today. I helped you make peace with your ghost-in-law and found the family’s heirloom jewelry.”

“You still haven’t told me where it is.”

“And I won’t unless you tell me something useful.”

She sighed gustily. “Well, Emma is a nice lady. I’m not trying to get her in trouble.”

I gave her the truth straight with no chaser. “No one has seen Delilah Rose in many years. There’s a good chance she might be beyond trouble.”

Darla’s eyes grew large. “I thought it was strange that she just up and disappeared. The landlord asked me where she’d went, but I had no clue. I even helped him pack up her stuff, but we didn’t have any place to send it. Eventually we donated most of it and tossed the rest.”

Damn, I would’ve liked to get my mitts on Delilah’s old things, but I certainly couldn’t blame Darla. She’d gone above and beyond for