by Elle Adams
“You knew he was going to interrupt our date?” I said.
“No need to sound so accusing,” he said. “You know what he’d have done to me if I’d tried to stop him.”
Did I ever. Drew looked at the spot where Mart was floating. “You were following the Reaper. Did you find out where he’s staying?”
“Why is he talking to me?” Mart said to me. “He can’t even hear me.”
“He’s trying to be polite, which is more than I can say for some people.” My hopes for getting a kiss from the detective had thoroughly evaporated by now. “Did you learn anything useful? Like what Shelton’s doing in town, for instance?”
“You think I know?” he said. “I managed to follow him for a bit, but he never stopped off at the old Reaper’s house. I don’t think he’s here to see Harold.”
“Then I’ll pay him a visit tomorrow.”
Not that I generally expected much in the way of cooperation from the crotchety old Reaper, but surely the idea of a fellow Reaper in town was worthy of attention, even from him.
“This I’d like to see,” said Mart. “I want that guy gone from town as soon as possible. He’s trouble.”
“I have to agree with you there,” I said. “Drew, do you want to come with us and see Harold tomorrow?”
“I think I’ll pass,” he said. “You aren’t going to pick a fight with the newcomer, are you?”
“Not at all.” My heart sank when he turned around as though he intended to leave, but the mood was thoroughly ruined, and Mart clearly wasn’t going anywhere. “See you soon?”
“Sure,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”
The moment he was out of earshot, I rotated on my heel. “Thanks, Mart.”
“For what?” he said. “I’m not the one who barged into the middle of your date.”
At least the Reaper didn’t stick around. I bit back the words, more annoyed than I had the right to be. Shelton was the one I was really mad at, anyway.
Whatever he was doing in town, Mart was right. The guy was definitely trouble.
I had trouble sleeping that night. My mind refused to let go of the image of the Reaper swooping around and using his scythe on the local spirits, while Mart was just as restless, frequently floating through the wall connecting my room to the vacant one next door as though reluctant to be alone. Maybe he was afraid of the Reaper showing up, too.
When my alarm went off, I gave up on sleep and decided to make another attempt to track down Lara. When I turned on my Reaper senses, Shelton didn’t appear within my sight, so he must have been staying far enough on the other side of town to be out of range. Good. I wondered whereabouts he’d chosen to stay, since everywhere in town had its own resident ghosts. Not a single place in town was spirit free.
Despite my best efforts, though, I couldn’t find Lara’s ghost. Giving up for now, I got dressed and then went downstairs to grab breakfast to go before my visit to old Harold’s cottage. Allie beckoned me over to her when I approached the buffet table.
“How was your date?” asked Allie.
“Great,” I said, not managing to sound as enthusiastic as I wanted to. In response to her raised eyebrow, I added, “It would have been better if we hadn’t been interrupted by the new Reaper in town when he decided to march into the restaurant to be rude to me.”
“There’s a new Reaper in town?” she asked.
“Yeah, and I’m going to pay a visit to old Harold and ask if he knows the guy and what his deal is.” Which was bound to go over as well as a lead broomstick. There was no sense in delaying, though, so I grabbed a piece of toast to eat on the way and set off.
Eric’s ghost was floating outside the inn when I walked out. “Hey, Maura.”
“Has Lara shown up yet?” I asked.
“No.” He raised his head. “Have you seen her?”
“I checked all the ghosts around the inn again this morning, and she’s not here,” I told him.
“Oh.” He shook his head. “I wish I knew where she was.”
“Is there anything you haven’t told me about the day she vanished?” I asked. “Because I’m actually off to talk to the local Reaper right now, and—”
“You can’t tell him!” he said. “We don’t need another Reaper coming after us.”
“Relax. You know old Harold’s retired,” I said. “I’m going to talk to him about the new Reaper in town, but it’d help if you could tell me who she might have interacted with before she vanished.”
He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. “We might have annoyed Mrs Terrence the other day.”
“How so?” I asked.
The crabby old witch was one of our regular customers and was known for being bad tempered. Getting on her bad side was not a smart move, as our first potential bartender had discovered.
“You know when she was yelling at the kid you were trialling the other day?” she said.
I thought back. “You’re the one who moved the plates around?”
“Lara did it,” he said. “We thought it was funny. Anyway, that was the day before she vanished.”
“Mrs Terrence can’t see ghosts, though,” I said. “I bet she didn’t know it was you.”
Or could she? I didn’t usually ask people whether they could see ghosts, figuring it wasn’t any of my business. Since I was working later that morning, it might be worth asking a few of our regular customers and seeing if they’d witnessed the local spirits’ pranks. I might as well try that angle before provoking Shelton again.
In the meantime, though, it was time to see the old Reaper and hope he was a little more cooperative than the new guy. If his attitude to the new arrival was anything like how he’d reacted to me when I’d arrived in town, he might be all too happy to help me get rid of him. Hey, I could dream.
The ghost watched me leave the inn without following after me. Mart didn’t tail me either, but it was probably for the best that he stayed as far from the newcomer as possible. I saw no signs of Shelton on my walk to the cemetery and the cottage sitting at the foot of the hill marked with the number 42. I didn’t know if the number had some special significance, since a large proportion of the town’s houses were numbered at random anyway, and the Reaper wasn’t known for answering questions, so I let Mart keep his theory that Harold was secretly a fan of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
I rapped on the door with my knuckles and waited.
“Go away,” said the old Reaper on cue.
“It’s me,” I said to the closed door. “Have you met the new Reaper who’s staying in town? He’s called Shelton. Kinda unfriendly.”
No answer came for a long moment. Then the door opened a crack, and the old Reaper peeked out. “What are you meddling with this time?”
“Me?” I said. “Nothing. A new Reaper was wandering around near the inn yesterday and wouldn’t tell me why he’s here. I wondered if he’d come to see you.”
“He most certainly did not,” growled old Harold. “I knew this would happen from the instant you showed up here.”
“Excuse me?” I said. “He’s not after me. He doesn’t seem to care that I’m living in town, in fact. Hence why I assumed he came to visit you instead.”
The bloody cheek of it. If Shelton was with the council, he was more likely to be here to target the retired Reaper, who’d been responsible for letting the place end up flooded with ghosts to begin with. All I’d done was a little ghost hunting, which meant I was the less troublesome of the pair of us.
“Then I hope you’ll keep it that way,” he said.
“Wait,” I said, sensing that he was about to shut the door in my face. “What am I supposed to do if I see him again? Aren’t you bothered that he might be banishing your ghosts?”
“He can do whatever he likes,” he said. “It’s none of my business.”
“That’s not a helpful attitude to have,” I told him. “He might be a rogue, you know.”
He grunted. “Then the council can come and deal with
him.”
“Have you spoken to the council at all since your retirement?” I said. “If they do send someone after him, do you really think they’ll let this place stay as it is without reprimanding you for neglecting your duties? You’ll have more than a single Reaper on your hands if you continue to ignore him. They won’t be pleased with you.”
He slammed the door in answer. Seriously? The guy was a curmudgeon, but I’d thought he at least cared a little about the town’s ghostly inhabitants. More than he did the living, anyway. He ought at least to care about being targeted by the council, right? Maybe he thought if he ignored the problem, it’d leave him alone. Which wasn’t a helpful attitude to have.
Shaking my head, I turned my back and retraced my steps to the inn, where I found another of the other local spirits floating around outside.
“Have you seen Lara?” I asked, approaching the young male ghost. “You know, the girl who usually hangs out with Eric?”
“No. Why?” he said.
“She vanished,” I explained. “Yesterday, I think. Nobody knows where she is.”
“Thought she moved on,” he said.
“Not on purpose, if she did,” I said. “Eric is worried about her.”
“I’ll keep an eye out, then,” he said.
Had he seen the Reaper? If not, I decided not to bring up the subject. I didn’t need to be besieged by terrified ghosts for the whole of my shift, thanks.
I kept myself busy at the restaurant for the rest of the morning, waiting for Mrs Terrence to show up for lunch as she usually did. None of the other customers gave the ghosts a second’s glance, and I was starting to doubt there was much point in asking Mrs Terrence, either. Even if the ghosts had been responsible for rearranging her plates the other day, I doubted a harmless prank would have prompted her to take extreme measures, and besides, we’d know if someone had used a banishment charm near the inn. It was hard to keep that kind of thing quiet.
When she came in and took a seat beside the window, setting her grey hat on the chair next to her as though she assumed someone would steal the spare seat otherwise, I made my way over to her table. “Hello, Mrs Terrence. Do you want the usual?”
“What else?” she grumbled.
I kept a pleasant smile firmly in place. “We’d also like to offer you a complimentary drink to make up for the incident during our trial shift other day.”
“You aren’t hiring that incompetent excuse for a bartender, are you?” she said.
“No, of course not.” It didn’t sound like she suspected any spiritual interference, so I did my best to remember her overly complicated order and slipped back behind the bar to make her drink. Unfortunately, my offer seemed to have made her think I was happy to be at her beck and call all afternoon, and she kept calling me over to her table to voice her complaints about everything from the temperature of the room to the lighting.
Thankfully, Allie came to my rescue by calling me back behind the bar. I gladly escaped, and she eyed Mrs Terrence from across the room. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just regretting striking up a conversation with Mrs Terrence,” I said. “Is she ever happy with anything?”
“No,” she said. “What prompted you to offer her a free drink?”
“One of the local ghosts vanished after playing a prank on her,” I explained. “You know when she was ranting at that poor kid who was being trialled the other day? I wondered if she knew it was a ghost who was really responsible, so I tried to find out more. That was the only way I could think of to bring up the subject with her.”
“Oh.” Her expression cleared. “You think she might have sent the ghost away? I doubt she did. She can’t see ghosts herself, can she?”
“No, but Lara has been missing for the last two days, and her friend is worried,” I said. “I was trying to help him out, but to be honest, I’m more inclined to blame the new Reaper in town for her disappearance.”
“Is that why the two of you got off on the wrong foot?” she asked.
“Kind of,” I admitted. “My brother followed him in the hopes of finding out where he was staying, but the Reaper caught on to him. So he decided to crash my date with the detective.”
“Oh, you mentioned that,” she said. “What did he do?”
“Walked into the restaurant and told me to call off my brother or else he’d use his scythe on him,” I said. “We’re both lucky he at least gave me a warning first.”
Her expression darkened. “That’s uncalled for. He shouldn’t have interrupted your date. Did he know Drew is the chief of police?”
“He does now, but he didn’t seem bothered when he found out,” I said. “I don’t know what his deal is, but I’m glad he isn’t staying here at the inn. I bet the ghosts are, too.”
“I wonder where he’s staying, then,” she said. “We’re the only inn that is bigger than a small family-run place, and there aren’t many others in town anyway.”
“I was wondering the same thing,” I said. “He said he wanted to stay somewhere he can avoid ghosts, but he’s deluding himself if he thinks he’ll find a ghost-free haven here in Hawkwood Hollow.”
“You’re right there,” she commented. “With any luck, he’ll leave town without any more incidents. You aren’t going to speak to him again, are you?”
“No, provided he stays out of my way,” I said. “I’d be less suspicious if he actually admitted what he was doing in town, though. I don’t know if he works for the Reaper Council, but I can think of several unpleasant things that’ll happen if they get wind of how haunted this place is. I want to at least keep an eye on him for that reason.”
“I suppose you have good reason to be concerned, then,” she said. “If he’s going to make trouble, though, the police will see to it that he doesn’t step out of line.”
“I know they will, but Drew can’t see ghosts, nor can the others,” I said. “That means it’s hard for them to defend the town’s dead inhabitants. In fact… I’m probably the only one who can do that, or at least the only person willing to try.”
This was a personal issue not just for me but for Carey, whose ghost blog was finally getting some traction. Not to mention we’d spent the last few weeks planning how to turn the inn into a popular haunted tourist destination, which would be kind of difficult with a bunch of angry Reapers running amok in town and chasing all the ghosts away.
Realistically, I’d always known the Reaper Council would notice this place eventually. My own presence in town had stirred things up enough that I understood why old Harold had been reluctant to accept that I’d be staying here. Though he’d somewhat come around to the idea by now, the new Reaper might well wreak a trail of destruction through my new life without even having to deploy his scythe. The guy had an agenda he refused to share, and his barging into the middle of our date yesterday had proved he had no boundaries. But had he really banished an innocent spirit—and what if that was only the beginning?
5
My head remained in the clouds all afternoon, dwelling on the new Reaper and the ghost’s disappearance. Carey came into the restaurant while I was cleaning up at the end of my shift, accompanied by Casper. While her familiar bounded onto the table, she sat in her usual seat by the bar, her head down. My heart dropped when I remembered what she’d told me yesterday about the girl in her class who’d started a rival ghost blog. I’d pretty much forgotten, what with everything else going on.
“Hey, Carey,” I called to her. “You okay?”
She gave a shrug, and Casper snuggled into her arms, his sad meow answering for her.
“Is it the girl with the blog?” I guessed.
“Cris posted actual ghost footage on her blog last night,” she said to me. “And now everyone’s sharing it all around school. They’re seriously impressed.”
“What kind of footage?” I asked.
“Just a few books floating around, that kind of thing,” she said. “And some creepy rooms in an abandoned old house. Not sur
e which one.”
“You’ve done better than that,” I reminded her.
“Not according to everyone who’s read her blog,” she mumbled.
“She’s popular, right?” I said. “It might not be the ghosts that are the draw if that’s the case. You’ve seen more spirits than anyone else in your class, I bet. That’s all that really matters.”
“No, it’s definitely the ghosts,” she said. “She’s also set up her own YouTube channel, and she already has over a hundred followers.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say to that. “Carey, I know it’s hard, but I wouldn’t let it bother you. We can go ghost hunting again this weekend if you like, get some fresh content up there. I know your followers are excited to read more from you.”
“She keeps mocking my posts about going ghost hunting with you,” she said in a small voice. “She said the only reason I saw any ghosts at all was because I’m friends with a Reaper, and she said it doesn’t count.”
“Take no notice of her.” Easier said than done, I knew. Being fifteen was the absolute worst. I wouldn’t have relived my teen years if you’d paid me. “What does it matter if you and I hunt ghosts together? She’s probably jealous.”
She made an indistinct noise. I hadn’t convinced her, but I hadn’t expected to either. I wished I had decent advice on hand for dealing with that kind of situation, but the only reason I hadn’t suffered worse bullying at school was because everyone had been scared of angering the local Reaper. Unless I grabbed old Harold’s scythe and started terrorising her classmates, which Carey probably wouldn’t go for. Sure was tempting, though.
A few minutes later, the door opened, and a group of teenagers entered the restaurant. Carey shrank back in her seat, and Casper dropped off her chair, positioning himself protectively in front of her. Speak of the devil…
“Is that them?” I lowered my voice, glancing at the newcomers.
She nodded, and Casper let out a low growl, which was surprising coming from such a generally good-natured cat. Like all familiars, he was prepared to defend his witch.
