by Sarah Wynde
***
An hour later, she wasn’t so sure.
She was seated at a table at the bistro with the entire Latimer family. Zane and Natalya were on either side of her, and Max, Grace, and Lucas were across the table. Despite the waffles, she felt a little like a criminal being interrogated by a panel of judges.
And she now understood exactly why Grace was CEO of General Directions. If their mom had been half as persistent as Grace was, it was no wonder she wasn’t going quietly.
“I don’t know,” she answered for the umpteenth time, trying to hang on to her fraying patience.
“What about this one?” Grace asked, turning a book to show her a picture. Akira glanced at it. It was a black-and-white print in a style that looked distinctively Japanese to her.
“Were you cheating on your wife?” Akira asked Max. It was a rude question, but she didn’t bother to cushion it.
“No, never,” he answered readily and without hesitation.
“Then I don’t think your mom has turned into an onryô,” Akira told Grace.
Grace flipped the book back. “It says here that these ghosts can be created from grief and despair as well as a desire for revenge. Mom was definitely upset when she died.”
“Every culture has traditions about ghosts. That doesn’t mean that any of the stories are true.” A passing waitress glanced at her and Akira smiled tightly. How had she gotten pulled into this conversation in a public place?
“Once you’ve accepted the impossible, questioning the improbable is only sensible.” Max answered while Grace skimmed down the page, one finger trailing along the lines of text.
“Hmmm. To get rid of one of these ghosts, you’re supposed to help it fulfill its purpose. That sounds familiar.” Grace set the book down next to her plate on top of two others and reached for her tablet. Her waffles, like Akira’s, were barely touched.
Zane nudged Akira with his elbow. She glanced at him, and he gestured at her plate with his head. “Eat,” he said softly. “The sooner you finish, the sooner we can escape.”
Akira raised an eyebrow, and then picked up her knife and fork. Lucas, Max and Grace seemed determined to learn everything they could about ghosts, while Zane and Natalya had been mostly quiet. But if Zane was offering escape . . .
“Not until we decide what to do,” Grace said. “We need a plan, a strategic approach to the situation.”
“What sort of a plan?” Natalya asked.
“This isn’t another action item on your to-do list, Grace.” Lucas shoved his plate away from him and gestured to the waitress for more coffee.
“I’ve been telling you for years that your mother was still here,” Max said. “Maybe she just likes being with us.”
Akira’s mouth twisted. Sure, that might be true for some ghosts. But not the one that was haunting that house.
“If Mom’s still here, there must be a reason for it,” Grace protested. “Something she needs. Or wants. Right?” She looked at Akira questioningly.
Akira’s eyes flickered to the waitress, and then she shrugged and sighed. Everyone in this town was crazy, anyway. Did it matter what they thought of her? “A ghost like the one in your house doesn’t have consciousness,” she answered. “Not like we think of it, anyway. There’s no way to talk to it or communicate with it. If it was human, it’d be like, I don’t know, like someone on a bad drug, hallucinating, psychotic, that kind of thing.”
Lucas was frowning, Max was shaking his head, and Grace was reaching for another book.
“If Akira is right, Mom’s ghost is dangerous,” Lucas pointed out. His tone was grim. Of all of the Latimers, he was the one who seemed unhappiest.
“Either way, we need to help her move on. That’s obvious.” Grace was organized, determined, her mindset practical.
Natalya was quietly sitting back, either thoughtful or doubtful, Akira wasn’t sure which, although maybe she felt both.
And Zane was the quietest of all. He’d greeted Akira, been friendly to the waitress, and then had been silent until he’d told Akira to eat. She had no idea what he was thinking. She glanced at him. He was watching her, eyes steady.
Hmm.
She recognized that look, and it had nothing to do with ghosts.
She took a careful bite of waffle, and chewed slowly, while she thought. Grace and Lucas were bickering—not with any malice, but with a friendly sibling obstinance—about what it might mean to have a ghost in their house.
There was no question in Akira’s mind that the ghost was dangerous. None. Her usual approach would be to not get involved, to stay just as far away as possible. But yesterday’s events had shown her that she didn’t know everything that there was to know about ghosts. Not that she’d ever really thought she did, but she’d been comfortable with her own level of ignorance. But that door or passageway or whatever it was that the little boy had found—that was a mystery to her.
And it might be interesting to see what Grace, with all the resources of General Directions behind her, could learn about ghosts.
Akira took another bite of waffle, and delicately licked a drop of syrup off her lip. Her gaze flickered to Zane. Yes, he was watching her mouth. When he saw her looking at him, she smiled. That glow she felt? It also had nothing to do with ghosts.
“You’ve had enough, haven’t you?” he asked.
She nodded, and put her silverware down.
“Thank God.” It was half murmur, half groan, as he stood abruptly, reaching for her hand. She let him pull her to her feet, trying not to laugh.
“Wait,” Grace ordered, putting up a hand to stop them.
“Nope,” Zane answered, stepping away from the table. “Go hire some ghost busters or whatever. We’ve got plans.”
“I don’t know how to make a ghost go away,” Akira told Grace, resisting Zane’s tug on her hand. “I’ve never had any luck in getting even the ones I can communicate with to move on. But if I can answer your questions, I will.”
“Tomorrow,” Zane interrupted. “She’ll answer your questions, tomorrow.”
“Hang on.” This time it was Lucas. “I still want—need—to talk to Dillon.”
Zane paused. He sighed. He looked at Akira and she could see how badly he wanted to refuse.
She just smiled.
“Tell you what,” she answered Lucas. “We’ll hang out at my house for a while. Say, maybe until noon? I’ll leave the car unlocked, and you can come to talk to Dillon, and before we go kayaking, I’ll come tell you what he has to say.” She looked back at Zane and kept her eyes steady on his, as she said to him, with all the innocence she could muster, “I’m sure we can think of something to do at my house for a couple of hours?”
