Make the Ghost of It (Witch Woods Funeral Home Book 3): (Ghost Cozy Mystery series) by Morgana Best

time,” Tom said, wielding a wrench. “Someone’s already done all the work, and their only mistake was that part that caused the flooding earlier. It won’t take much to get it all working. I wonder why they didn’t finish it when they had come so close.”
    I shrugged. “No idea. Would you have time to look at the kitchen as well, please?”
    I didn’t know if my luck would continue to the kitchen, but it did. Tom informed me that the kitchen was all right to go; he only had to turn on a tap inside a cupboard.
    I stayed in the kitchen while Tom went back to wrestle with the bathroom. I had diverted all my calls from my landline to my cell phone, so I checked that the volume was high. I looked in my refrigerator, but it was only stocked with the bare emergency essentials: chocolate, wine, and ice cream. I didn’t know how Basil would feel about those items for lunch, despite the fact that they looked awfully good to me.
    I had a couple of hours before Basil returned, and there were no bookings for the day, so I threw myself into cleaning up my apartment. I opened the windows to let in the fresh air, but they only succeeded in letting in the flies. I lit some incense and put a stick in each room, smiling as I did. Mom had not allowed me to burn incense in her house. She always said that incense was evil and New Age.
    Now that the water was running in the kitchen, I decided to clean it. The kitchen really needed replacing, but it would do for now. The countertops were old and yellow, and the cabinet doors were some sort of horrible timber veneer. I figured I would paint everything white, and it could stay like that until I could afford to have the whole thing replaced. The kitchen had never been used, so at least I didn’t have to clean up anyone else’s years of dirt and grime.
    I had bought a thrift store find table for five dollars when I had first decided to move into the apartment, and I had put it here. I had already chalk painted the legs in white, and dry brushed the top. It looked quite attractive. And while I didn’t have any nice chairs for the table, I did have three old metal chairs that I had bought for a bargain. They were awfully uncomfortable and not very attractive, but they sure beat sitting on the floor.
    After I cleaned the kitchen, I debated whether to start painting, but I wanted to have a nice lunch with Basil in my apartment and didn’t want the paint fumes to be overwhelming. I looked at the time, and realized I had taken longer than I thought.
    I grabbed my keys, told Tom I wouldn’t be long, and headed out to town.
    I went to my favorite Chinese restaurant, which happened to be the only one in town, and bought a selection of food. I realized how little I knew about Basil, when I realized I had no idea of his food preferences.
    By the time I got back to the funeral home, Tom was just leaving. He handed me his statement. I looked at it, and smiled. It was quite affordable.
    “Just put it into my bank by bank transfer,” Tom said. “I’ve got my account details on the statement.”
    “Thanks Tom; I appreciate it. I’ll go and transfer the money now.”
    Just then, Basil’s car drove up, and Tom winked at me. “No hurry, Laurel. I know where you live.” He chuckled, and went to his vehicle.
    Basil looked a lot better than he had. I wondered if he’d had time to have a little sleep as well. “That smells good,” he said.
    “Hungry?”
    “I’m ravenous,” he admitted.
    I held up the bags. “I hope you like Chinese.”
    “I love Chinese.”
    I smiled and turned around, and ran straight into Lewis. To be accurate, I walked straight through Lewis. It was an unpleasant feeling, somewhat akin to walking through a veil of water.
    “Where have you been, Lewis?” I asked him.
    “Why didn’t you tell me that I was the major beneficiary in your will?” Basil asked him.
    “Well, excuse me!” Lewis said sarcastically. “A little thing like being murdered happened to me. Forgive