A Ghost In The Closet. Mabel Maney

kissed me,” Midge set the record straight.

      “And you let her?” Jackie gasped.

      Midge coolly lit a cigarette. Then a big grin lit up her face. “I could tell the minute I met Velma that she wasn’t just any girl. As far as I was concerned, she could do whatever she wanted.”

      “Cherry’s not just any girl, either,” Jackie cried. “Why, you could safely say, when it comes to Cherry, there’s no one else like her!”

       —— CHAPTER 12 ——

       A Torrid Tale

      That very moment at the Hardly estate, a distraught girl clad in fetching but rumpled pajamas was echoing those very same words. “There’s no one like Cherry, I tell you! She’s the girl for me! And I’ve lost her—forever!” Nancy’s torrent of tears spilled into her cup of cocoa.

      Frank Hardly, a fair-haired fellow with a thoughtful demeanor and a lean yet muscular build, shot his younger-by-one-year brother Joe, a handsome fellow with basset-hound brown eyes and a friendly face that was now etched with concern for his fretful friend, a worried look. “Get more handkerchiefs,” he mouthed. Joe raced to the little laundry room off the kitchen, and was relieved to find a stack of clean, starched hankies on the ironing table. Quick as a wink, he snatched some up and raced back to the kitchen just as Nancy was threatening to use the sleeve of her shantung silk pajamas to mop her face.

      “Good thing!” Frank whistled in relief. Shantung silk was almost impossible to get clean—lipstick especially stained it so!

      “Now take a deep breath and start from the beginning,” he urged. He had never seen his friend in such distress! When Frank had opened the door in the middle of the night to his pajama-clad chum, Nancy had gasped out an astonishing story about having murdered her father, traveled to faraway San Francisco and brought home “the nicest nurse you’ll ever want to meet” before flinging off her trenchcoat, collapsing in a heap on the davenport and falling into a fretful sleep. Now it was early morning and the boys were sitting in the sunny, modern Hardly kitchen, wearing lightweight plaid cotton robes thrown over striped pajamas and consuming fresh biscuits and warm beverages while trying to make sense of the dramatic events that had befallen Nancy while they were abroad.

      “It all started one day last month when I shot Father to death in the kitchen,” Nancy began.

      Joe gasped in alarm and dropped his buttered biscuit, which tumbled under the table. He dove to get it, bumping his head in the process. He grimaced and rubbed the sore spot. “You shot your father?” he yelped. “Golly!”

      Frank gave his younger brother a glare which cautioned him against further exciting their already perturbed chum.

      Nancy told them of the horrific circumstances that had compelled her to take up arms against her father, sparing no details. “When I was a child—he forced me to do things—in my bedroom—late at night,” she explained in a whisper.

      “And when I finally told Hannah of his terrible misdeeds, she threatened to hand Father over to the proper authorities. That’s when he attacked her! So I ran to the den, picked up his rifle, raced back to the kitchen and shot him.”

      “Oh,” Joe gulped. He reached for a fresh hankie. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. You and Hannah were trying to protect each other!”

      Nancy nodded and wiped a tear from her eye. “It was at Hannah’s insistence that I threw some outfits in a bag and fled to San Francisco, leaving her behind to confess to the murder. I tried to start a new life—oh, I met some new chums and fell in love and we saved a convent of kidnapped nuns from the clutches of an evil priest—” She took a big breath, and continued, “—but try as I might, I couldn’t forget about Hannah languishing in her jail cell, so my friends and I came back here and I confessed to the killing. Lucky for me, when I revealed in court the heretofore unknown diabolical aspects of Father’s personality, I was exonerated of all charges in his death.”

      “Phew!” Joe gasped in relief.

      “But not before we accidentally ran over Police Chief Chumley, who turned out not to be my friend at all! Why, he not only stole my letters proving Father’s true nature, he tried to frame Hannah with false evidence!”

      “Golly!” Joe cried.

      “What a horrible shock it must be when someone you admire and trust turns out to a be totally different person,” Frank cried.

      “People aren’t always what you think,” Nancy sighed. “I have to admit, it’s been a rather frightful month. But now everything’s back to normal. Hannah’s out of jail, I’ve inherited the Clue estate and have had a chance to start selecting my fall wardrobe before the season begins. But there’s still one thing—” she struggled to continue as tears welled up in her eyes.

      “I’ve lost my one and only true love,” she sobbed, “which has never happened to me before!”

      Joe sniffed loudly. Could things get any worse for their plucky pal?

      “You mean that nice nurse you mentioned last night, don’t you?” Frank said softly.

      “Yes,” Nancy sobbed. “Nurse Cherry Aimless, the sweetest, kindest, prettiest girl in uniform I’ve ever met. And she was all mine, until I made a series of stupid blunders that broke her heart.

      “But I was under an awful strain, what with the murder trial and being in jail and all that,” she added quickly. “If I could have just one more chance with her, I know I could prove I can be the best girlfriend ever—” she broke into heartfelt sobs. With trembling hands, she reached inside her pocketbook and took out a packet of thin, yellowed envelopes. She drew a letter from one of them and recited: