Wicked or Treat! (Paranormal in Manhattan Mystery: A Cozy Mystery Book 16) Read online

  Wicked or Treat!

  Paranormal in Manhattan Mystery:

  Book 16

  By Lotta Smith

  Copyright

  Wicked or Treat! © 2018 Lotta Smith.

  Cover copyright 2018 Molly Burton at CoverWorks

  Editing and proofreading: Hot Tree Editing

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without express written permission from the author/and publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, incidents and places are the products of the author’s imagination, and are used fictitiously. None of the characters in this book is based on an actual person. Any resemblance to locales, actual events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and an unintentional.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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  GET WHOEVER FINDS WICKED FOR FREE!

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  table of content

  GET WHOEVER FINDS WICKED FOR FREE!

  PROLOGUE Part 1

  PROLOGUE Part 2

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  EPILOGUE

  About the author

  In case you missed…

  PROLOGUE Part 1

  “Dr. Bergman, what is it like to have labor pains?” I asked my obstetrician.

  “My patients often say it’s a type of pain they’ve never felt before—as in the worst pain they’d ever felt,” Dr. Fredelika Bergman answered with a serious face. “Some say it resembles pushing a giant watermelon out of their nostrils, and others say it’s like having an eighteen-wheeler running all over your pelvis.”

  “Seriously? Oww… that must hurt!” Jackie muttered, rubbing her arms and turning even whiter. Considering she was a ghost, the change in her complexion seemed to indicate the seriousness of her shock. “I’m really glad I used to be a guy when I was alive.”

  “Oh… really?” I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to imagine what that would feel like without much success as I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at Jackie—a ghost of a drag queen who claimed to be my guardian angel. I’d never pushed anything bigger than a piece of stray pasta out of my nose when it got stuck in the back of my nostrils instead of going to my stomach like its fellow pasta. Of course, I’d never admit to something so gross happening to me.

  “But considering you’re not screaming, you don’t have the pain yet,” the doctor said thoughtfully.

  “I’m afraid not.” I shook my head, glancing at my huge baby bump. “I thought I would have delivered her by now. I’ve actually purchased baby costumes for Halloween.”

  Apparently, our daughter wasn’t going to wear those super cutesy costumes. I was ready to take photos of her dressed as a witch, fairy, princess, Wonder Baby, and so much more, but with her still in my womb, the costume had to wait.

  All right, I was fooling myself. The costumes wouldn’t rot or anything, but the baby would be growing, so the chances of her smiling in those super fabulous costumes was none, zilch, nada.

  As I sighed discreetly, Jackie cooed, “No worries, Mandy. You can still take photos of her in those lovely costumes. Who cares if the photos were taken on, say, Christmas instead of Halloween?”

  “Oh yeah. I can let her put on one of the princess dresses at Christmas,” I replied to her, pretending to be talking to myself.

  Jackie gave me a thumbs-up.

  “Maybe she’ll decide to come out if I talk to her,” Rick said eagerly. “Hey, Sophie, can you hear me? It’s me, Daddy. You were supposed to be born a week ago, darling. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I’m telling you to hurry up and come out. You can take your time, of course. But we really want to meet you, sweetie, so why don’t you come out of Mommy and say hi to all of us?”

  “Come on, Rick. You’re practically rushing her.” Jackie made tsk-tsk sounds and wiggled her finger at him. “A lady needs to prep herself before her big day, right, Mandy?”

  I nodded ever so slightly to show her my agreement.

  “Mandy, do you feel anything, like the sensation of our daughter moving in preparation to come out? Any hint of labor pain? Or maybe a twinge, even? I think I can feel her willingness to come out and meet us,” Rick exclaimed, prompting the nurse to press her lips tightly as she apparently resisted the urge to chuckle. Dr. Bergman discreetly rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t feel anything,” I said, shaking my head. “Hey, Rick, why don’t you take a deep breath and relax? After all, you’re not the one giving birth to our child.”

  “Okay, you have a point.” He nodded, taking a deep breath as I had suggested. “I just realized I’d been holding my breath. Oh crap, why do I feel so exhausted?”

  “That’s because you’re making a really huuuge fuss over her birth,” Jackie pointed out. “Remember? It’s your daughter who decides when and if she wants to come out by herself. Even if she does come out on her own, I don’t think she’ll say, ‘Hi, Mom, hi, Dad. I’m Sophie. Nice to meet you,’ like immediately.”

  She kept preaching to Rick, who luckily couldn’t hear her, but I could and her rant made me snort with laughter.

  “What was that? Is everything okay?” Panic crossed his face.

  “Everything’s peachy,” I assured him. “All we need right now is for you to chill a little and stop panicking, okay?”

  “For your information, I’m not panicking. I’d rather call it a strategically structured preparation for our daughter’s birth.” He furrowed his eyebrows. Turning to the nurse, he asked, “Do I look like I’m panicking?”

  “Yes, you do.” Jackie rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what to call panic if that’s not what you’re experiencing right now.”

  Instead of answering Rick’s question with a yes or no, Dr. Bergman interjected, “Mr. Rowling, would you like a sedative? I can prescribe it for you if you need it.”

  “Dr. Bergman, you’re so funny!” Rick let out a dry chuckle. He sounded like he was attempting to be lighthearted and breezy, but I knew he was just trying to put on a façade. Usually he was pretty good at keeping his face straight, even in life-or-death situations, but that day, he was failing miserably at concealing his feelings.

  “It’s okay to panic, Rick, but perhaps admitting you’re freaking out would be the first step to regaining your composure,” I said.

  “She’s right, Rick,” the doctor agreed. “Why don’t you have some water, at least?”

  Rick crossed his arms, but after a few moments, he gave in. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Your mom and sister are so right,” Jackie commented. “Hubbies are worthless when you’re delivering your child, especially the first one.”

  I was tempted to say, “So true!” but I didn’
t want my doctor and the nurse to regard me as a crazy woman who periodically talked to the air.

  My name is Mandy Rowling. I’m an expectant mom of a baby girl who seems to be lacking in the motivation department. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying kids born via C-section are lazy, nor are the moms who go through the procedure. It’s just that I was born by cesarean, and whenever I look back, I must say I’ve been pretty much described as lazy throughout my life. Personally, I’d prefer the term “strategically cautious” to describe my attitude in life, though in spite of my cautiousness, people often called me a walking disaster. The saddest part is that I find myself agreeing with them.

  Anyway, as they say, like mother, like daughter. It seemed my daughter was showing the same resistance to coming out of the comfort of her mother’s uterus—just like I did when I was supposed to be born. Mom used to tell me the whole story about my strategic cunning to avoid using my own energy to exit her womb.

  I glanced at the IV tube connected to my arm. “Oxytocin is supposed to force me into labor, right, Dr. Bergman?” I asked, thinking I should have paid more attention to the lectures when I had a chance to learn. In my previous life, I was a medical student, but before I did my clinical rotation with ob-gyn, my medical career dropped dead. Long story short, I got kicked out of the school. Fortunately, Lady Luck took pity on me and I started working with Rick Rowling, who later became my husband.

  As I spoke, I focused my attention on my baby bump, which was oh-so-quiet.

  “Generally speaking, yes.” Nodding solemnly, she studied my nonstress test. “Hmm… no sign of uterine contractions. Let’s wait for a while to see what happens.”

  “Sure.” I looked at Rick. “Try to breathe slowly. Don’t hyperventilate, okay?”

  “Okay.” He nodded, breathing fast and furious like he was the one about to go into labor.

  “You used to be a badass FBI agent, remember?” I said, totally amazed. When I met him for the first time, I was a medical student who was wrongly accused of a triple homicide. Thanks to him clearing my name, I didn’t end up serving twenty-five to life in prison for a crime I didn’t commit, but no thanks to him, I got kicked out of school because of the stupid moniker he gave me: the Grim Reaper. “Back then, you were so outrageous that I feared I was stuck with a maniac who happened to be my boss.”

  “Oh really?” He tilted his head. “If I recall correctly, I’ve always been a courteous agent who never broke laws or rules. Also, I’ve been extra nice to you since our first encounter.”

  “You’re imagining things.” I shrugged. “Don’t tell me you forgot that you practically tortured suspects just to force them into fessing up about their crimes.”

  “Come on, don’t use the T-word. I don’t want to ruin my daughter’s innocent ears with such a scary word. What if she hates me for being a scary dad?”

  I rolled my eyes, and Dr. Bergman cleared her throat. “Okay, so you’re not in labor, but both you and the baby are doing nicely. Let’s wait for the medication to kick in, okay?”

  “Okay.” I nodded.

  “I suspect the baby was listening to your mom as she described your birth, Mandy, and she’s decided it’s the easy way,” Jackie commented. “Hey, Sophie, you’re trying to save your energy by avoiding the birth canal delivery, right?”

  I reached for my tummy.

  “What did you just say?” Jackie’s eyebrows shot up.

  Without asking, I knew Sophie had told her something. Even though I was able to talk to ghosts like Jackie, I hadn’t succeeded in catching my daughter’s voice. On the other hand, Jackie, the ghost of a former Broadway actor and a drag queen, seemed to have already formed a bond with my daughter as Auntie Jackie.

  “Yeah, of course I’ll tell your mom about your complaints.” Nodding over and over, Jackie looked at me.

  I was itching to ask what she said, but opted for giving Jackie a wide-eyed stare instead.

  “Relax, Mandy. It’s nothing serious.” I knew she was attempting to reassure me, but it just drove me crazy instead.

  I bit my lower lip and moaned, already fearing the worst—even though I didn’t know what could be the worst-case scenario in this situation.

  “Your daughter is feeling good, but she prefers cesarean,” she said. “Also, she’s demanding you forget about making her wear that hideous elf costume for Christmas.”

  “What?” I blurted out. “But that costume is so adorable!”

  “Don’t shoot the messenger, okay?” She held up her hands. “But Sophie says she won’t be caught dead in that hideous green monstrosity. According to her, that green shade totally ruins her complexion. Not that we’ve seen her, but she insists it’ll make her look like a zombie.”

  “No way. She’ll look super cute posing as Santa’s assistant. Besides—” Midway through my protest, I realized I was still with my doctor and nurse. Also, I’d forgotten about the myth that a baby in the womb wasn’t supposed to see things. In spite of the myth, my Sophie seemed to actually see colors and expressed her opinions via Jackie all the time. “Oops, I think I was a little distracted…,” I mumbled, trying to look as humiliated as I could muster.

  “Mandy, are you okay?” Rick jumped to his feet and held my hand, his mesmerizing green eyes full of concern. At the same time, he knew me well enough to assume I was having a conversation about our baby with Jackie. As he squeezed my hand in his, his eyes said he was impatient for my next words.

  “I’m good,” I said, kissing his cheek. “I just had a weird thought that our daughter might not like that green Christmas elf costume.”

  “That’s it?” He looked relieved. “Don’t worry about the costumes. We have a ton of extras.”

  “Good, though there’s something else, I’m afraid. I think Sophie prefers to come out by cesarean.”

  “Are you sure?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

  “I guess so. My mom never went into labor. Even with oxytocin administration and everything, she was like ‘Labor pain? What’s that? Can I eat that? Is that yummy? If I recall it right, they call bread pains in France, right?’ and her doctor decided to go with cesarean when she mentioned the bread part.”

  As I uttered the word “bread,” I felt slightly hungry and was tempted to ask if I could have some snacks. Instead, I turned to my doctor and nurse, saying, “I’m open to cesarean if needed. Like I said previously, I was born via C-section, and I have nothing against the procedure. Actually, my younger sister, Alicia, delivered her two wonderful girls that way.”

  “That’s brilliant.” Dr. Bergman looked at me thoughtfully before turning to the computer screen. “Sophie has grown to a healthy size, which is good, but you’re not showing any signs of labor, and if she stays in you for another couple of days, she’ll grow even more. So basically you’ll need a cesarean anyway. All right then, let’s meet her today.”

  “Today?” I parroted like a total idiot, realizing I wasn’t ready ready. “But—”

  “No buts, Mandy,” Jackie interjected. “Sophie says she’s getting bored being inside you.”

  “Hello? You’re the one who decided to stay longer than initially planned, right?” I demanded at my daughter, prompting the nurse to chuckle.

  “Mandy, you’re talking to your baby like I do to my teenage daughter,” she said.

  “Oh, yes. Everybody needs to prepare for the stormy days.” I let out a dry chuckle, internally cringing at the fun prospect of my daughter answering me every three seconds. Considering she was so opinionated before even bothering to come into the world, I could already feel my head about to explode at just the mere thought of her growing up.

  “Okay then, we’ll take you to the operation room to perform a C-section,” Dr. Bergman said matter-of-factly, and before I knew it, I was in the operating room.

  It was then that I realized I’d never had a surgical procedure before, except for extracting my wisdom teeth with local anesthesia. When Dr. Bergman began opening my lower abdomen with her scalpel, I found m
yself slightly regretting that I didn’t attempt to persuade Sophie to come out on her own. I was under localized anesthesia, so I could hear the metallic sounds of the equipment and the staff talking around me.

  But the scariest part was that I could almost hear her saying, “You think so, Mommy? If you’d prefer vaginal delivery, I can try, but don’t complain if you have to have your vagina cut open.”

  Approximately twenty minutes later, Sophie was in Rick’s arms, and he was holding our daughter for me to see. She was really, seriously beautiful, with the same eye color as her dad.

  “Thank you so much for delivering such a beautiful girl, Mandy.” He was all smiles, but emotion seemed to have kicked in, his eyes brimming. “I love you so much… both of you!”

  “I love you too!” I giggled.

  “Oh my God, Clara! You’re here at just the right time!” Jackie frantically waved as the ghost of Clara, Rick’s late stepmom, popped up from out of nowhere.

  “Hello, Sophie!” she cooed, looking as elegant as ever in an emerald dress and matching heels. “You’re naming her Sophie, right? I hope you haven’t changed the plan because it’s a really adorable name.”

  “Yes, her name is Sophie,” I whispered to her and did a little finger wave at Rick, who looked at me expectantly.

  “Is Mom here?” he murmured. Though his biological mother was still alive, he’d been much closer to Clara who passed away after battling with multiple sclerosis.

  “Hi, Rick!” Clara waved. “I’m so happy for you. And I’m truly honored to be here when you’ve just become a proud father of such an adorable girl. Congratulations!”

  “Yes. She’s here, floating by your side, cooing at Sophie,” I whispered back to him. With the doctor and her nurses still around, talking to my deceased mother-in-law was slightly tricky. “She adores Sophie, and she loves her name. Also, she’s really proud that you’re a dad.”

  Nodding again and again, he muttered, “Thank you, Mom. I love you.”