Chance of a Ghost Read online

  Praise for E. J. Copperman’s

  Haunted Guesthouse Mysteries

  Old Haunts

  “Wisecracking though level-headed, Alison is the kind of person we’d all like to know, if not be…Great fun with a tinge of salt air.”

  —The Mystery Reader

  “An entertaining and spellbinding tale in which the ghosts come across as real as each brings melancholy and humor.”

  —The Mystery Gazette

  “Copperman’s Alison Kerby is my kind of protagonist. She’s realistic and knows her weaknesses…Best of all, she has a dry sense of humor…Leave your disbelief behind. Pretend you believe in ghosts. You’ll certainly believe in Alison Kerby as a perfect amateur sleuth.”

  —Lesa’s Book Critiques

  “I knew Old Haunts was gold before I finished reading the first page.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  “Old Haunts is like an old friend (or your snuggy blanket)—dependable, solid, and just what you need it to be.”

  —Night Owl Reviews

  “I was most looking forward to reading about The Swine’s infamous return and I was not disappointed. The Haunted Guesthouse series is something you must pick up if you love cozies and/or paranormal books.”

  —Panda Reads

  “Funny sometimes, charming sometimes, a little unnerving sometimes.”

  —Gumshoe Reviews

  An Uninvited Ghost

  “[A] triumph…The humor is delightful…If you like ghost stories mixed with your mystery, try this Jersey Shore mystery.”

  —Lesa’s Book Critiques

  “Funny and charming, with a mystery which has a satisfying resolution, and an engaging protagonist who is not easily daunted…Highly recommended.”

  —Spinetingler Magazine

  “Each page brings a new surprise…This series is one to follow. Craftily written and enjoyable.”

  —The Romance Readers Connection

  “Fabulous!…An Uninvited Ghost is something classic with a modern twist.”

  —Panda Reads

  “There are several series out now featuring protagonists who can interact with ghosts. Some are good, but this one is the best I’ve read. Alison’s spectral companions are reminiscent of Topper’s buddies, funny and stubborn and helpful when they want to be…I look forward to Alison’s next spooky adventure.”

  —Over My Dead Body

  “E. J. Copperman is certainly wonderful at weaving a great mystery. From the very get-go, readers are in for a treat that will leave them guessing until the final chapter…Alison Kerby is a wonderful character…If you love a great mystery like I do, I highly recommend getting this book.”

  —Once Upon A Romance

  Night of the Living Deed

  “Witty, charming and magical.”

  —The Mystery Gazette

  “A fast-paced, enjoyable mystery with a wisecracking but no-nonsense, sensible heroine…Readers can expect good fun from start to finish, a great cast of characters and new friends to help Alison adjust to her new life. It’s good to have friends—even if they’re ghosts.”

  —The Mystery Reader

  “A delightful ride…The plot is well developed, as are the characters, and the whole is funny, charming and thoroughly enjoyable.”

  —Spinetingler Magazine

  “A bright and lively romp through haunted-house repair!”

  —Sarah Graves, author of the Home Repair Is Homicide Mysteries

  “[A] wonderful new series…[A] laugh-out-loud, fast-paced and charming tale that will keep you turning pages and guessing until the very end.”

  —Kate Carlisle, New York Times bestselling author of the Bibliophile Mysteries

  “Fans of Charlaine Harris and Sarah Graves will relish this original, laugh-laden paranormal mystery…[A] sparkling first entry in a promising new series.”

  —Julia Spencer-Fleming, Anthony and Agatha award-winning author of One Was a Soldier

  “Night of the Living Deed could be the world’s first screwball mystery. You’ll die laughing and then come back a very happy ghost.”

  —Chris Grabenstein, Anthony and Agatha award-winning author

  Berkley Prime Crime titles by E. J. Copperman

  NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEED

  AN UNINVITED GHOST

  OLD HAUNTS

  CHANCE OF A GHOST

  Chance of a

  Ghost

  E. J. COPPERMAN

  BERKLEY PRIME CRIME, NEW YORK

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada

  (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) • Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL,

  England • Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin

  Books Ltd.) • Penguin Group (Australia), 707 Collins Street, Melbourne, Victoria 3008, Australia

  (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) • Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community

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  Beijing 100020, China

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s

  imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business

  establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over

  and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  CHANCE OF A GHOST

  A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / February 2013

  Copyright © 2013 by Jeffrey Cohen.

  Cover illustration by Dominick Finelle.

  Cover photos: Flock of Birds © Alexusssk; Painted Background © iStockphoto/Thinkstock.

  Cover design by Judith Lagerman.

  Interior text design by Kristin del Rosario.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or

  electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of

  copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 978-1-101-61916-2

  BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME

  Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are trademarks of

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  ALWAYS LEARNING PEARSON

  For my father, and anyone who deals in paint

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Regular readers of these books must be awfully tired of reading the same names praised effusively and than
ked profusely time after time. On the other hand, you’re choosing to read the acknowledgments, so clearly it’s something you find interesting. For me, it is a necessary and pleasurable obligation. Many people work awfully hard to get my words to you in the best possible light. How could I not take time out to notice and appreciate their efforts?

  Some very special thanks this time, to start: Maryann Wrobel, the real box office manager at the Count Basie Theatre in Red Bank, New Jersey, was kind enough to take me on a tour and show me how the office works. I told her I might write about fictional intrigue and murder connected to a character who had her job, and she smiled. Thank you, Maryann. The Count Basie is a beautiful place to see a show, and I hope to be there again very soon.

  Those who offered advice on homemade fingerprint kits: Michael Silverling and Marianne Macdonald could not have been more helpful. The same is true of Dave Bennett, Sue Epstein, Carola Dunn, Sara Hoskinson Frommer, Carl Brookins, Theresa de Valence, Thomas B. Sawyer (my favorite name in all of crime fiction), Tony Burton and Margaret Koch. Thank you, and remind me never to commit a crime when you’re around.

  Of course, thanks to the invaluable D. P. Lyle, the one and only resource to a crime fiction writer for all things medical, to teach me about arrhythmia and what kind of outlets a toaster would have to go through to electrocute someone. You can’t ask just anybody about this stuff, and I have rarely met anyone as selfless. Thank you, Doug.

  Thanks, in other matters, to Linda Landrigan, Lynn Pisar, Damon Abdallah, Sue Trowbridge, Dru Ann Love (for getting the Carly Simon reference), Paul Penner, Mikie Fambro (for the ride to the airport), Matt Kaufhold and everyone who invested their money with absolutely no chance of a return in the movie Scavengers. You all know who you are, and so do I. Words are insufficient, but all I can offer.

  There is no way I can allow you to read these acknowledgments without seeing the name Shannon Jamieson Vazquez, the incandescent editor of the Haunted Guesthouse Mysteries (and the late lamented Double Feature Mysteries), who knows every single time I’m trying to finesse something and never ever lets me get away with it. She is at least as important a factor in your enjoyment of these books as I am.

  Thank you to Dominick Finelle, the cover artist for the series who always gets the tone right and comes up with ideas I couldn’t possibly dream up, and Judith Lagerman, executive art director of The Berkley Publishing Group, who takes the awful squiggles I send and makes them look like a real book. Kudos to both of you.

  And without the tireless work of my agent, Josh Getzler, and Maddie Raffel of Hannigan Salky Getzler Agency, would there even be a book called Chance of a Ghost? I tend to doubt it. Thanks for putting up with my neuroses and constant demands for attention. Thanks also to Christina Hogrebe of the Jane Rotrosen Agency, who helped get the Haunted Guesthouse Mysteries to begin in my head.

  There are, no doubt, many I’m inadvertently omitting, and to each of them, my sincere apologies; it was, you know, inadvertent. But to booksellers, librarians, reviewers (even the ones who don’t like me) and especially readers, rest assured authors know that without you, we’d all be trying to find real jobs.

  Above all, thanks to Jessica, Josh and Eve, who make my life my life. Which is almost exactly what I always hoped it would be, but never expected.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Regular readers of these books must be awfully tired of reading the same names praised effusively and thanked profusely time after time. On the other hand, you’re choosing to read the acknowledgments, so clearly it’s something you find interesting. For me, it is a necessary and pleasurable obligation. Many people work awfully hard to get my words to you in the best possible light. How could I not take time out to notice and appreciate their efforts?

  Some very special thanks this time, to start: Maryann Wrobel, the real box office manager at the Count Basie Theatre in Red Bank, New Jersey, was kind enough to take me on a tour and show me how the office works. I told her I might write about fictional intrigue and murder connected to a character who had her job, and she smiled. Thank you, Maryann. The Count Basie is a beautiful place to see a show, and I hope to be there again very soon.

  Those who offered advice on homemade fingerprint kits: Michael Silverling and Marianne Macdonald could not have been more helpful. The same is true of Dave Bennett, Sue Epstein, Carola Dunn, Sara Hoskinson Frommer, Carl Brookins, Theresa de Valence, Thomas B. Sawyer (my favorite name in all of crime fiction), Tony Burton and Margaret Koch. Thank you, and remind me never to commit a crime when you’re around.

  Of course, thanks to the invaluable D. P. Lyle, the one and only resource to a crime fiction writer for all things medical, to teach me about arrhythmia and what kind of outlets a toaster would have to go through to electrocute someone. You can’t ask just anybody about this stuff, and I have rarely met anyone as selfless. Thank you, Doug.

  Thanks, in other matters, to Linda Landrigan, Lynn Pisar, Damon Abdallah, Sue Trowbridge, Dru Ann Love (for getting the Carly Simon reference), Paul Penner, Mikie Fambro (for the ride to the airport), Matt Kaufhold and everyone who invested their money with absolutely no chance of a return in the movie Scavengers. You all know who you are, and so do I. Words are insufficient, but all I can offer.

  There is no way I can allow you to read these acknowledgments without seeing the name Shannon Jamieson Vazquez, the incandescent editor of the Haunted Guesthouse Mysteries (and the late lamented Double Feature Mysteries), who knows every single time I’m trying to finesse something and never ever lets me get away with it. She is at least as important a factor in your enjoyment of these books as I am.

  Thank you to Dominick Finelle, the cover artist for the series who always gets the tone right and comes up with ideas I couldn’t possibly dream up, and Judith Lagerman, executive art director of The Berkley Publishing Group, who takes the awful squiggles I send and makes them look like a real book. Kudos to both of you.

  And without the tireless work of my agent, Josh Getzler, and Maddie Raffel of Hannigan Salky Getzler Agency, would there even be a book called Chance of a Ghost? I tend to doubt it. Thanks for putting up with my neuroses and constant demands for attention. Thanks also to Christina Hogrebe of the Jane Rotrosen Agency, who helped get the Haunted Guesthouse Mysteries to begin in my head.

  There are, no doubt, many I’m inadvertently omitting, and to each of them, my sincere apologies; it was, you know, inadvertent. But to booksellers, librarians, reviewers (even the ones who don’t like me) and especially readers, rest assured authors know that without you, we’d all be trying to find real jobs.

  Above all, thanks to Jessica, Josh and Eve, who make my life my life. Which is almost exactly what I always hoped it would be, but never expected.

  The dream is not always the same; there are variables in the setting and the details. But it always begins with me, either in the house where I grew up or in the enormous Victorian I now own as a guesthouse.

  And my father is there.

  Even in the dream, I know he’s been dead for five years and that it doesn’t make sense for him to be completing some home improvement project with me. But that doesn’t seem to matter to him, so I see no need to make it an issue.

  It’s like things used to be—Dad will point out something about the job he’s doing so I’ll remember it. “See, you want to drive the screws in a little bit deeper than flush on wallboard,” he’ll say. “That way when you fill the hole with compound, you can sand it smooth, and you won’t see a screw head shining through the paint.”

  We work like that for a little while, and I feel the way I always did when Dad was around—safe, protected and, above all, loved. I learn from him (although in the dream I have the feeling it’s something I already knew), and we share a chuckle over something that we’ve agreed not to tell my mother.

  Then he asks me to find him a tool.

  It’s not always the same tool; this is what I mean about there being variables in the dream. Sometimes he’ll ask for a pair of needle-nose p
liers, and I don’t have time to wonder what possible use they might have in hanging wallboard. Other times, Dad will say that there’s a ball-peen hammer in his toolbox downstairs, and he’d really appreciate it if I would go down and find it for him.

  Every time, I have this nagging feeling that I shouldn’t leave, but I don’t protest or try to get out of the task. I’m not even sure what age I’m supposed to be in the dream. I can’t tell if I’m meant to be a child or if he’s just treating me that way despite my actually being in my late thirties with a daughter about to turn eleven. Whichever it is, I never question it in the dream, just as I don’t find it strange that the house might change from one to the other at this point. If I start out in the house on Seafront Avenue and walk downstairs to find myself in my childhood home at Crest Road, the shift in location doesn’t alarm me—it always seems to make sense. I note it, but I don’t question it. It doesn’t matter where I find myself; the dream always seems to make sense while I’m in it.

  This is usually where it becomes an anxiety dream. I head for Dad’s toolbox, but it never seems to be where he said I could find it. I start to wonder why he’s working upstairs without his toolbox, and why he might’ve wanted me out of the room for just a moment right now. I go from room to room, searching for the toolbox. In one version of the dream, I don’t ever find it. I search until I wake up, frustrated and strangely sad. In another version, I find the toolbox, but the tool Dad has requested doesn’t seem to be there, despite how in life Dad organized his tools very carefully and logically. But someone appears to have meddled with the tools—they’re not where they’re supposed to be—and I begin to get nervous. Dad wouldn’t treat the instruments of his profession so carelessly. I often wake up anxious after that one.

  But the third version, the one I’d been having the most often lately, is the worst of all. In that one, I actually find the tool that Dad has asked for, and feeling like a proud little girl who has accomplished something she’s been trusted to do for the first time, I rush back up to deliver the prize. And here, again, there is variation in the dream. Sometimes I can’t find my way back to the room Dad was repairing. I rush through the house—or houses—frantically searching for the right door to get me back to him so I can give him the thing he needed so badly and be rewarded with a smile and a “Thanks, baby girl.” But I can’t ever find my way because the doors never seem to be in the right place, and I wake up just as I think I have finally discovered the right passageway. I’m never happy to be awake after that, and it always takes me a few minutes to shake it off.