Spooky Business

by S. E. Harmon

  He made a zipper motion with his lips. While my attention wavered, the light had seeped through my hands and headed back toward the little boy. I curled my fingers a bit to bring it back my way. The pendant against my chest was warm and pulsing as I pulled more of his energy toward me. The boy glanced at me again, his face puzzled as he tried to figure out what was happening.

  I realized he was fading, getting lighter and lighter, as the transmission of energy flowed between us. It’s working. I’m actually doing it. Pleasure suffused in my body as I realized I was forcing a ghost to cross over. The boy gave me another cherubic smile, and I wavered.

  It’s the right thing to do, I told myself firmly. Wasn’t it?

  The boy suddenly realized that I was taking his energy and he cried out. He reached for the golden cord between us and looped the end around his chubby little fist. He yanked so hard that I lost my grip and the energy flowed his way. His mind slammed into mine with so much force that I gasped.

  I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to the feeling of sharing my body with a ghost. Every part of us was entangled—even our emotions. My anxiety blended with his exhilaration, making me feel like I’d taken a hit of something.

  I was in the water, and from my new perspective, everything looked awfully big. I looked down at my hands. Maybe everything wasn’t big. Maybe I was just small. A wave splashed me in the face, and I went under for an inordinately long time. I tried to swim, but my usually sure stroke was gone, replaced by something weak and utterly unsuitable for the choppy water. After what seemed like an eternity, I bobbed back up, salt water stinging my eyes.

  I could hear muted shouting from the shore, but it was so very far away. I squinted at the pandemonium. People were running about here and there, and I heard the shrill sound of the lifeguard’s whistle. They looked like they were searching for something. Someone. A woman with a colorful scarf wrapped around her hair wailed something as she fell to her knees.

  Another wave splashed me in the face and I went under again. This time I didn’t come up. My heart hurt as I realized I was experiencing his drowning. Everything was quiet and perfectly blue as I sank below the surface.

  Except for one thing.

  I squinted at that yellow tail of light, still hovering around me like a wispy cloud of smoke. I reached out and grabbed it. It pulsed a few times, glowing so brightly that it hurt my eyes.

  “Rain.”

  I frowned at the sound of my name. Why would I be part of this memory? I ignored that voice as I yanked on the pulsing glow of light. Hard. The energy surged through me like a freight train, sparking and crackling until it flowed into the pendant at my neck. It pulsed against my skin briefly like a heartbeat, once, twice, before it went flat and black again.

  “Rain!”

  I gasped and blinked. I was back on the beach again, with Dakota gripping my shoulder hard enough to bruise. I winced but welcomed the ache—pain meant I wasn’t drowning at the bottom of the ocean. I tried to twist to see the area where the little boy had been, but Dakota held me still.

  “Take a few breaths,” he said softly. “There’s no rush.”

  I could tell he was trying to play it cool, but his face was white as chalk. I did as he requested, breathing in slowly and quietly. I looked down at my pendant, where all the excess energy had gone. I was pretty sure without it, my body couldn’t have handled the unexpected surge.

  Dakota’s grip eventually lessened. “Are you okay?”

  “I am. A little woozy, but I think that’s to be expected.” I blinked blearily.

  Dakota gave my shoulder one last squeeze before he let go and helped me to my feet. I glanced back at the spot the little boy had been, but there was nothing but a half finished sandcastle. “The little boy. He’s gone.”

  “That’s good,” he murmured. “You did really good.”

  He was being generous. I’d bumbled my way through, but maybe that had been enough. “Thank you,” I said, a little bemusedly.

  We eventually got to the surfing. After I lost my board for the third time, I called it quits. I stumbled back up on the beach, Dakota not far behind. My intended destination was the spot where we’d left our towels and gear, but my strength waned long before that. Hell, I barely made it out of the water before I flopped in the sand. The tide sent warm water rushing over my legs and feet before it receded just as quickly.

  I hacked a little. I was pretty sure I had half the ocean’s water in my lungs and most of the beach in my shorts. It was official—I didn’t love the beach. I wasn’t sure I even liked the beach at this point. I kept that to myself, though. A confession like that was enough to get me kicked out of Florida for good.

  Dakota looked down at me, proud as any papa, hands on his trim hips. “You were awful out there.”

  He wasn’t kidding. I’d wiped out. A lot. But I was pretty sure that was the point. Even if I wasn’t sure I could do it perfectly, I had to try. Hopefully, I’d carry that principle over to all the parts of my life I couldn’t exercise complete control over.

  I squinted at Dakota. “You owe me a discount for trying to drown me.”

  “Ten percent.” He inclined his head. “Best I can do.”

  Just when I’d started to like you. “Cheap bastard.”

  He smiled. “Next week, I think we should do something fun. I don’t suppose you’re certified for scuba diving, are you?”

  Oh, hell no. That was enough to send me lurching to my feet. I’d had enough sun and “fun” today to last me a year. I half carried, half dragged my surfboard in the direction of the rental hut, only stopping long enough to grab my keys and phone from our towel.

  “What’d I say?” Dakota called.

  *

  I only took the time to shower the sand out of all my crevices and change into a pair of sweats before I conked out on the couch. I only intended to lay down and “rest my eyes,” but with me, that generally turns out only one way—dead to the world for a few hours, face down in some throw pillows.

  I woke to the feeling of someone behind me, a hand down the front of my sweats. I blinked sleepily, trying to get with the program. Dick didn’t seem to have that problem; I was hard before I was fully awake. I groaned, jerking my hips into the touch.

  “God, I’m glad you’re home,” I said groggily. “You should wake me up like this all the time.”

  He didn’t respond. I pressed back against him, enjoying the heft of his erection against the cleft of my ass. But what should’ve felt good and familiar was just… off. The shape of him was wrong. The grip was wrong.

  The whisper near my ear sealed the deal. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me long.”

  I almost didn’t want to turn around, but I didn’t have a choice. I turned to see Joey there, smiling tenderly at me. There were oh-so-many things I wanted to say, but the only thing I could manage was a strangled, “Christ.”

  “I’m vers if you want to top.” He paused. “Although, it seems like you like it the other way around with the big guy.”

  I scrambled to get up and away from the ghost. I moved so hastily that I fell off the damn couch. As a bonus, I smacked my head on the coffee on the way down.

  “Ow.” I rubbed the back of my head. “What. In the actual fuck. Are you doing?” My voice started level but certainly escalated by the end of my abso-fucking-lutely rhetorical question.

  Joey sighed. “Calm down, my love.”

  “I am calm,” I practically shouted. I paused because sometimes you gotta fucking pause for irony’s sake. “I am calm,” I repeated like a sane person. “And I’m not your love.”

  He reached out to touch my face, and I crab walked back until I bumped into the entertainment center. A hurt expression crossed his face. I only took my eyes off him long enough to make sure the TV wasn’t about to come down on my head.

  “I brought you something.” Joey held out his palm, and a bracelet appeared—the same one he’d given me before. “I got it out of your glove compartment.”
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  I gritted my teeth. I’d like to say if I hadn’t just been tricked and assaulted by a ghost, I’d have been gentler with his feelings. As it was, he was lucky I didn’t bounce the bracelet right off his forehead. I got off the floor and hobbled closer to the couch. He tried to drop the bracelet in my hand, and I let it fall to the floor.

  “Joey, I need you to listen to me carefully, because I’m about shit out of patience,” I said slowly. “I am not Alexander Gilroy.”

  His cheeks flushed. “I know that.”

  “Alex has a good life. He likes his job and does a lot of work for the community. On the weekends, he goes to a restaurant named Catch 32. It’s a little far from his condo, but there’s a bartender there that he secretly has a crush on—”

  “I can’t hear this,” he cried.

  “And if he can ever get up the courage to ask that bartender out, he might have a real chance at happiness,” I went on determinedly. “He has two wonderful daughters who love him, one of whom is about to make him a grandfather later this year.”

  He started to fade, the ghost version of sticking fingers in your ears and saying la-la-la-la-la. It was my turn to grab his arm. I grabbed that golden cord tethering us, transferring the energy between us so effortlessly that Dakota would’ve been proud. I only realized I’d done it when I felt his skin, cold and papery-dry underneath my fingertips.

  I loosened my grip to a gentler hold. “Joey. I know it sucks that life didn’t turn out the way you planned. But if you love him at all, you should be happy that he’s made a life for himself.” I eyed him to see if any of what I’d said sunk in, but he wasn’t giving me much to work with. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “Alex,” he whispered.

  “I am not Alex,” I said tiredly, running both hands down my face. “We’ve gone over this a million times.”

  He was quiet for a few moments as he stared at me, unblinking. When he spoke again, his flat tone sent shivers down my spine. “You know, you’re making this a lot harder than it has to be.”

  “Joey—”

  He leaned down and picked up the bracelet where it glittered on the floor. He started to disappear. I tried to grab him again, but my hand slipped through his arm.

  “Hey,” I said frustratedly. “I’m not done talking to you. We’re not done here.”

  “No, we’re not,” he said, fading completely. I could still hear him in my head after he disappeared. We certainly are not done.

  I was too unsettled to sit back down. Instead, I paced for a while, thinking over what had just happened. It didn’t get better with the instant replays. I had never encountered a ghost so focused on me the person, not me the medium, and it was disconcerting.

  I picked up my phone and made a quick call. He answered on the second ring. “Twice in a day,” Dakota marveled. “I may be able to afford that vacation after all.”

  “You don’t vacation,” I said suspiciously.”

  “I do when a certain detective keeps racking up a bill for spiritual guidance. It’s actually a trip to get extra credit for my advanced botany class.”

  “You don’t need extra credit,” I said definitively. There weren’t many things I’d put money on, but Dakota’s GPA was the safest bet on the planet. “That much I’m sure of.”

  “No, I don’t, but I do need to see the Botanical Emporium.” He sighed wistfully. “I hear they have the world’s largest collection of zinnias.”

  I cast my gaze heavenward. “My God, I need a new group of friends.”

  “They’re rare and quite beautiful,” Dakota said starchily. “But I wouldn’t expect someone who can’t keep a cactus alive to understand.”

  “I’ll pay for your little nerd trip,” I said, trying not to laugh, “but I need to meet with you again. Tomorrow.”

  “You want to work on controlling your energy?”

  “I want to work on completely stripping a being of energy.”

  “Like the little boy at the beach? I think that’s a good idea. But why so soon?”

  “Not like the little boy on the beach. An unwilling being.”

  “Well, wouldn’t that mean… oh. Oh.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  “No.” I paced some more. “But I think it’s necessary.”

  Chapter 23

  Monday morning, Joseph Carr’s murder book was waiting on my desk.

  It was a bit of a slap in the face. The hubbub about finding Kane’s victims and Delilah Rose had been so distracting that I forgot we hadn’t solved our primary case. Crap. It was like dousing your coach in Gatorade to celebrate a win, and then someone telling you that it’s only halftime.

  At least we had no shortage of suspects. Nick seemed to think Alex Gilroy was our guy. He’d loved Joey, but he had also been a married man with kids. His parents’ expectations meant he could never have the life he truly wanted, not unless he was willing to lose his trust fund. So maybe he’d killed Joey to remove temptation from his life—the old “if I can’t have you, no one can” complex.

  Of course, that complex could also apply to Milo. He’d already told me that Joey and Alex’s relationship made him uncomfortable. He also had no real alibi for the day Joseph was murdered. Sitting home alone watching television was just as bad as having your mother vouch for your whereabouts. First we braided each other’s hair and polished our toenails. Then, we linked arms and sat on the couch the whole night, I swear.

  We also still had to locate a few people—namely, Dillon Cooper. I needed to see if a kid with a minor crush, sitting on some terrible allegations, had caused some major trouble. Then, there was Sara Jamison, the jealous ex-wife with a hot temper. Maybe she’d gotten a little tired of Joey in her husband’s life and had taken matters into her own manicured hands.

  We also hadn’t tracked down the mysterious PI that I only knew by the name Rex. Hell, I didn’t even know if that was his real name. All I had on Rex was a vague description, a black Silverado, and a missing thumb drive.

  Kevin had added several dossiers of disgruntled parents that Joey had run-ins with, and they were a motley looking crew. He seemed especially keen on a woman named Donna Stout, who’d been arrested for a little bit of everything, from DUIs to domestic abuse.

  I read the dossiers thoroughly, but I wasn’t convinced. Joseph’s murder felt more personal than that. Someone had brought him to that fair because it was meaningful, and Joey went willingly. He’d been comfortable with his killer. Trusted him, even.

  That brought me back to a truth I couldn’t ignore. I shuffled the pictures in the murder book until Valerie Carr’s was on top. His mother was already proven to be a killer, multiple times over. What if Joseph had found out that Valerie killed his birth mother? Would she have killed even her most precious person to make sure her secret stayed safe?

  My phone vibrated in my hand. I was fully prepared to send it to voicemail until I checked the screen and saw Danny’s picture. “You’ve got good news,” I said by way of greeting. “I can already feel it.”

  “As usual, your psychic powers are shit.” I could hear the amusement in his voice. “I talked to Sara Jamison. She has an ironclad alibi for the day Joseph was murdered.”

  “Yeah, like what?”

  “She was in jail. Her second DUI,” he said. “I verified it with the arresting officer. He remembered her because she was, and I quote, the most belligerent fucking drunk I’ve ever dealt with. But also the hottest.”

  I processed that for a moment before I cursed. “You people are determined to throw ice water on my investigation, aren’t you?”

  He chuckled. “On a positive note, my contact finally has a lead on that Dillon guy. He lives with his grandmother in low-income housing down in West Miami. I’ll probably head there after I finish settling this domestic.”

  I blinked. “A domestic between who? And where are you, exactly?”

  “I’m still at Sara’s apartment. She and her husband started arguing when she
said Alex was the love of her life. He tossed a glass of soda in her face, and she threw a toaster at him. Clipped him on the shoulder pretty good.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yep.” He sighed. “Toaster still had a piping hot bagel in it.”

  I struggled and failed to hold in an inappropriate laugh. Domestic situations were far from funny, but goddamn. There wasn’t enough time to unpack all that crazy. “Where are they now?”

  “He’s in the back of an ambulance hollering obscenities, and she’s in the back of my squad car doing the same.”

  “They sound like a match made in heaven.”

  “Or the other place.”

  I snorted. “Don’t worry about picking up Dillon. I can take this one.”

  “Yeah? You don’t mind?”

  “Of course not.”

  He paused. “You will take someone with you, won’t you?”

  I sighed exasperatedly. “Are you ever going to stop worry warting?”

  “Are you ever going to stop putting yourself in dangerous situations?” he countered. “And yes, that was absolutely rhetorical. See if Kevin’s free.”

  I briefly debated how to get Kevin’s attention. I could get up like a decent person and go find him, or I could go the lazy route and just yell. My ass immediately voted for the latter of those options. Kevin usually had his office door open, so the odds he’d hear me were in my favor.

  I held the phone away from my mouth a pinch. “St. James,” I bellowed.

  Sure enough, it only took him a few seconds to answer. “What?”

  “Are you free for an assist?”

  “Depends,” he yelled back.

  “On what?”

  “On if you’re planning on getting poisoned—”

  “That wasn’t my fault.”

  “Initiating a high-speed car chase—”

  “The suspect initiated that chase,” I protested loudly.

  “Did he?” Danny asked on speaker, his voice skeptical.

  “Boy, everyone has a long fucking memory in this department,” I complained.

  Tabitha appeared in my doorway, an irritable expression on her elfin face. “Hey. Hello. Hi.”