“You’re probably right. It’s a real tragedy though.”
Jason nodded and then moved to hold open the door for me. I stepped through, lingering a moment longer. Somehow he’d managed to get me to the door without really having answered any of my questions. Then again, if he was right and it was all just a song and dance to make Kimberly’s parents happy, there wasn’t much to tell.
“Thanks for your time, Jason.”
He nodded. “Of course. Do you uh, need a ride home? Looks like we might be getting a little rain tonight.”
“Oh, thank you. I actually drove. My van’s back from the shop.”
He’d been the one dispatched after Lizzie rammed the bumper into a telephone pole.
“That’s great!” Jason slid his hands into his pockets and beamed, but his enthusiasm looked a little forced.
“Try telling that to my credit card,” I said, smiling up at him.
He chuckled and then offered a slight wave. “Have a good night, Scarlet.”
“Thanks. You too, Jason.”
He went back behind the door separating the offices from the small lobby, leaving me alone with the cantankerous-looking receptionist. There still wasn’t any sign of Kimberly. I smiled at the woman behind the desk but her expression remained sour.
Kimberly’s sudden vanishing act had me on edge, but I couldn’t go snooping through the station looking for her.
At least, not while everyone was inside. Besides, I had a dinner date.
Chapter 13
“You seem preoccupied.”
Lucas’s statement wasn’t said in an accusatory way, but made my cheeks flare with heat anyway. We were barely mid-way through our entrees and while the food was delicious and the atmosphere cozy and intimate, I couldn’t focus. After my visit to the police station, I’d returned home to change and found that both the shop and my apartment were ghostless. I’d gone room to room, calling out for Gwen, Hayward, even Flapjack, but got no response.
Most would probably assume that a ghost-free house would feel less haunted, but mine felt spookier when it was actually empty. Go figure.
I’d changed and raced off to dinner with Lucas but couldn’t stop thinking about Kimberly’s disappearance at the station. It didn’t make sense, considering the stink she’d made about getting to tag along. Then the empty apartment …
Something was wrong.
“I’m sorry,” I told Lucas, setting aside my fork.
“Are you feeling all right?”
“Yes and no.”
He put aside his own fork and dropped his hands to the table, framing his dinner plate. “I think I know what this is about.” He pulled in a deep breath, eyes half-closed. When he opened them again, they locked with mine and something squirmed in the bottom of my stomach. My rollercoaster of thoughts flew off the rails, sailed over Ghost Land, and crashed headlong into the Splitsville wasteland.
This was the end. He was gearing up to break things off.
My lungs tightened, refusing to draw in another breath, and as my stomach rolled again, I worried that what little of my meal I’d managed to get down was preparing to make a second appearance at the table.
I held up a finger. “Wait.” I glanced around the room. The restaurant wasn’t packed, but there were still far too many ears close by. If I was getting dumped, that was something I’d have to accept, but I wouldn’t have him drop me like a hot potato in public. “I’m so sorry, let me just use the ladies’ room.”
Without waiting for him to reply, I popped up from my seat and scurried through the restaurant, nearly crashing into a waitress who was carrying a large tray of beverages. I swerved, cheeks red hot, and muttered a string of apologies before ducking into the dimly lit hallway that led to the restrooms. I placed a hand on the door to the women’s restroom, took in a deep breath, and then backed up a step.
I took a sharp turn, veering off course, and pushed out the back door. The chill air bit into my throat as I broke into a run. I gulped down huge gasps of the misty air and barreled toward the corner of the lot where I’d parked my delivery van. Thank the stars we’d met at the restaurant. I threw myself behind the wheel, turned over the engine, and veered out of the spot, keeping the headlights off in case Lucas glanced out the large mirrored windows along the front of the square building.
When I hit the end of the driveway, I clicked on my blinker, fired up the headlights, and peeled out into the night.
It was a move that would put the Cowardly Lion to shame, but in that moment, flying down the highway away from heartbreak, I didn’t care.
There were six missed-call notifications on my phone when I finally brought myself to check. All of them were from Lucas. I sagged down onto the couch and let out a long, slow exhale. “What is wrong with me?” I asked myself.
“What did I just walk in on?”
I opened my eyes and found Flapjack staring up at me, unblinking.
He twitched his tail and then swirled it around to cover his paws. “At least you haven’t started talking about yourself in the third person yet. That’s when I’ll start to worry.”
“Gee, thanks. Your concern is always so touching, Flapjack.”
He inclined his head. “So, spill. What’s wrong with you?”
I leaned back and dragged my fingers through my hair, releasing the ponytail holder in the process. “Lucas was going to break up with me at dinner and rather than sit there and face it, I snuck out the emergency exit of the restaurant.”
Flapjack’s lips turned up at the edges. “Could have been worse,” he replied. “You could have gotten yourself stuck trying to crawl out a bathroom window. Again.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I told you that wasn’t me! That was my friend.”
“Sure, Scar. Your friend.”
I picked up a pillow and chucked it at the silvery cat. The throw pillow soared right through him of course, but I took some pleasure in striking a dead bullseye.
Flapjack, completely unconcerned, trotted across the room and vaulted up onto his favorite spot in the window. It faced the street and most days he could be found there, watching the world go by. Some things never change for a cat, living or otherwise. He glanced out the window and then turned around and faced me once again. “Why do you think he’s about to kick you to the curb?”
I frowned at the harsh phrase but answered him anyway. “I just know, okay?”
“Mmm. I see. You’re right. That’s practically indisputable evidence.”
“Since when did you turn into the Love Doctor? That’s really more of Gwen’s thing, isn’t it?” I shot back, still scowling.
Flapjack raised one shoulder. “Maybe. But, as you may have noticed, you’ve scared her off. Well, either you or Hayward did. I still haven’t quite decided where to lay the blame. I’m just enjoying the silence now that she’s gone.”
“That’s mean, Flapjack.”
He turned to look out the window, swishing his tail.
“You think she’s really gone?” I asked after a moment. Guilt churned in my stomach. “For good?”
“I don’t know for sure. All I know is that I haven’t seen her since you two had your little whatever-it-was this morning. Hayward’s been MIA too.”
A spark of something else flared to life. Fear. M was still missing and Gwen was convinced that her new paramour was gone too. What if Gwen was right? What if Myra and Quinton weren’t simply unaccounted for? What if something had actually happened to them? If someone—or something—was coming after the local ghosts, there wasn’t anything stopping it from getting to my friends, either.
But what could be happening? Holly hadn’t had an answer ready.
My phone buzzed again. I looked over at the screen and saw Lucas’s name flash along the top. “Ugh.”
“Scar, you’ve never been the kind to back down from a challenge before,” Flapjack said, without turning back around to face me. “Why start now?”
Great. Now even the cat is more mature than me.
“Scarlet?” The relief in his voice only made me feel worse. “Is everything all right? Where are you?”
“Home?” I replied, the word sounding more like a question.
“You are?”
“I’m really sorry,” I said, sighing. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”
“Today?” Flapjack scoffed.
I chucked another pillow.
“Listen, I know what you were going to say, and it’s fine. Really. It is. I get that my life is a little—no, a lot—unconventional. On top of that, you travel nine months out of the year. We were probably kidding ourselves from the beginning that this thing could ever work out between us. So, obviously you’re making the right call by ending it.”
“Ending it?”
I straightened. “That’s what tonight was about, right?”
Lucas barked a laugh. “No!”
My eyes went wide and swooped over to Flapjack, who had craned around to listen in. Nosy beast.
“Scarlet, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but that wasn’t my intention. Why would I take you out to a nice dinner just to break it off?”
“Because you’re a nice guy?” I cringed, hating my lilting tone.
“I’ve been distracted, but it has nothing to do with you or your … talent.”
“Oh.”
“Stay where you are, okay? I’ll be there in ten.”
“You really don’t have to— “
He was already gone.
“Great!” I tossed the phone down on the couch.
“Flapjack, I think I’m losing my mind.”
“Caught that.” He jumped down from the windowsill and came over to join me on the couch.
“You’re my oldest …”—what do you call a ghostly cat who was part childhood pet, part long-term companion, and a giant pain in my rear?—“friend, so I trust you to tell me the truth.”
“Just so long as you don’t ask me if your ass looks big in that pair of jeans with the embroidered pockets.”
I scowled—and made a mental note to donate said unflattering denim. “Be serious!”
“I was,” he mumbled.
“Flapjack!”
“All right, all right. Calm down.” He stretched, arching his back so high that his legs shook before he dropped back down into a lazy puddle. “What do you want to ask me?”
I was regretting opening my mouth, but he was the only one available. “Do you think that I ran out of the restaurant tonight because I’m afraid of having a relationship?”
“Well of course,” he scoffed. “I don’t have to be Gwen or Dr. Phil to see that one.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I shoved up from the couch and started pacing, my arms folded over my stomach. “This is why I don’t do this stuff! I’ve never been good at it.”
Flapjack cocked his head. “I don’t think you’re not good at it—it’s like you said, you’re afraid. I think you like Lucas because he’s kind of unattainable. He travels, you’re building something here. He’ll always be at arm’s length.”
I spun on my heels and stared down at the pile of silvery fluff. “I’m sorry, and when was it you got your PhD in psychology? I must have missed that development.”
“You leave the TV on sometimes when you leave for work. If I happen to end up watching daytime talk shows, it’s your fault.”
“I was wondering how you knew who Dr. Phil was.”
He scoffed.
“I’ll try to remember to switch it over to Animal Planet next time.” I suppressed a smile. “But seriously, what do you think I should do?”
“Maybe it was better when Gwen was here,” he muttered. “At least then I didn’t have to run a hotline for your love-life woes.”
“Oh, shut up. You love it.”
He blinked slowly but couldn’t conceal the sheen in his large, once-cobalt eyes. “Scar, there’s nothing wrong with you. The way I see it, this is all brand-new for you. You went from growing up under a microscope to traveling the world on your own terms. Now you’re starting to put down roots for the first time in your life. It’s a lot of change. Adding another person, Lucas or anyone else, is another big change. As someone who’s been there through it all, I’d be worried if you weren’t a little off-balance.”
My nose burned as tears pooled at the edges of my eyes. For all the whining I did about his near-constant presence in my life, there were a handful of moments like these that made it all worthwhile. “Thanks, fur ball.”
“Anytime, Scar.”
The doorbell rang and I wiped at my eyes on my way to the door. It was bad enough that I’d flown into a full-blown panic earlier in the evening; I didn’t need him to think I’d been sitting alone in the dark bawling my eyes out over a pint of Ben & Jerry’s finest too.
I straightened my top and ran my fingers over my hair, then pulled open the door.
Lucas stood there smiling at me, and right beside him was a pissed-off Ruthie Jasson.
“Not this again,” I muttered, sending Lucas’s smile crashing to the ground.
Chapter 14
“I’m going to go ahead and assume that I’m not here alone,” Lucas said, glancing to his left and right. “Which one is it this time?”
The fact that this was suddenly so normal to him made me burst out laughing. “Ugh! I must seem completely Dr. Jekel, Mrs. Hyde!”
Ruthie crossed her arms. “I’m glad you’re having a good time. Meanwhile, I barely escaped some madman wielding some kind of ghost trap!”
The laughter died on my lips with a strangled sound. “A ghost trap?” I repeated, adding a healthy dose of sarcasm.
Lucas groaned. “I’m going to put this on ice,” he said, holding up a bottle of wine.
“I’m sorry, Lucas!” I said, stepping aside as he entered the apartment. Ruthie shot daggers at me but I ignored her for a moment. “Let me just—”
“It’s fine. Really.” He smiled and slipped past me on his way to the kitchen. “Where do you keep your wine glasses?”
“Um, will coffee cups work?”
He laughed. “Sure.”
“Ruthie, you can come in, but if you’re making this up, I’ll personally see to your ex’s wish for a full exorcism,” I said, turning back to the irate ghost. If she was in full Technicolor, I had no doubt her cheeks would be the color of the wine Lucas was about to pour into a pair of mugs. I might not have another clean dish in the house, but I always kept at least a couple of coffee cups clean. Something of an unbreakable rule.
“I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t serious!” She sniffed. “I’ve recently met a man and would much rather be spending my evening with him than you.”
“Well, well,” Flapjack commented from his seat on the couch. “Who knew ghostly cougars were so in demand.”
Ruthie’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits as they found the patronizing feline. “Who do you think you are?” she asked, undeterred by the fact that a cat was talking, well, insulting, her.
“Ignore him,” I told her, flapping a hand in his direction. “You’ve got five minutes. Start talking.”
Ruthie glared at Flapjack for another moment and then shifted her cold stare back at me. “I don’t know how he did it, but apparently Will figured out how to get rid of me for good. One minute I was standing in the kitchen, looking out at the backyard and thinking up my next move, then all of a sudden it felt like I was falling. You know as well as I do that’s impossible, but that’s what it felt like. The next thing I knew, I was standing in a dark room lit only by a ridiculous amount of candles. There was this man—no, a lunatic—staring at me. He laughed and started reciting words … I don’t know, some kind of spell, I guess.”
“A spell?” Flapjack said.
Ruthie crossed her arms and glared at each of us in turn. “Is that all y
ou two can do? Repeat everything that I say?”
“If you’d prefer, I can tell you what I’d suggest that you go and do.” Flapjack mocked.
“That’s it!” Ruthie surged up off the floor a few feet.
I held up a hand, both to silence Flapjack and to try to smooth Ruth’s ruffled feathers. “Ruthie, I don’t know what you expect me to do to help you. Obviously you’re fine now, right?”
“What if he pulls me back again?” Ruthie replied, panic lacing her words. “There were other ghosts there, you know. They were trapped in these strange orbs. Whoever this man is, he’s trapping ghosts! I barely got away!”
“What?” I hissed. “Why didn’t you start with that part?”
A deep line appeared between Ruth’s brows as she glared down at me. “I was doing my best, but you and your feather duster weren’t making it easy!”
“Feather duster? Seriously, that’s all you got?”
“Flapjack, enough!”
He scoffed but put his head down on his paws, apparently unconcerned that Ruthie might have discovered just where Myra and Quinton were being held.
“How did you get away?” I asked Ruthie.
Lucas came back into the room and offered me a mug halfway filled with a deep red wine. I took the cup from him and he went to the couch. Flapjack hissed and leaped out of the way moments before Lucas sat on—through—him.
“I screamed,” she replied, as though it was a stupid question. “I don’t really know how I did what happened next, but the candles all burst into flames. Big ones. The guy was caught off guard by that and turned his back. I flew right through the wall.”
“Where was this? Do you think you could lead me back? We have to rescue the others.”
Ruthie considered me for a moment. “I could …”
“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?” I muttered under my breath.
Ruthie’s gaze sharpened. “But—”
“There it is,” Flapjack interjected.
She huffed. “But you have to do something for me first!”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re kidding, right? You’re seriously going to try to blackmail me?”
Ghosts Gone Wild: A Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries Book 2) Page 11
