by Lyla Payne
“Stop,” Amelia says. “The two of you are not decorating the house for us. Grace and I can do it, and maybe Mel will come help.”
“Yeah,” I say to support her, even though it sounds like a terrible idea. As does anything that takes place outside and requires me to be upright for long periods of time. “Girl power.”
Both Brick and Beau look as though they’d like to protest—Millie and Mel are pregnant and I should have been voted Most Likely to Harm Self Unintentionally in high school. If that were a superlative category.
In real life, I won Worst Driver, which is pretty close to the same thing.
Neither of the guys says anything. We all sit like lumps for a while longer, then Beau and I get up to clean the kitchen while Brick and Amelia say good night at the front door. My cousin retires, her eyes half-closed, and after we put away the last of the clean dishes, Beau and I follow her.
My nerve endings sizzle, lighting up delicious parts of my body as Beau’s hand touches my back on the way up the stairs. In my experience, this lusty period doesn’t last forever, but it could be we’re getting a bit of a bonus round since we’re technically on a second go at it.
“I’m just going to say good night to Amelia,” I tell him on the landing. “I wouldn’t hate it if you were naked when I came back.”
He laughs, his hazel eyes happy as they take in my face. “Is that right? Well, it just so happens I’m a gentleman who loves obliging you.”
I lean in and kiss him, lingering for a moment longer than I should considering we’re not going straight into the bedroom together. “Mmm. I’m counting on that.”
He swats my butt as I spin around, deciding I need to follow through on that good night promise before Amelia crashes, and Beau heads into the bedroom while I slide down the hall. The images in my mind of all the ways Beau enjoys obliging me bring a smile to my lips as I push open my cousin’s bedroom door.
“Wipe that goofy look off your face. I can almost see what you’re thinking, and it’s been a whole six weeks since I’ve thrown up. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Have you always been such a prude?”
“Yes, though I’m not sure my not wanting to hear your rather energetic sex counts as being a prude.” She makes a face. “Did you want something?”
“Just to say good night.” I lean against the doorway. “And to ask if you really want to decorate the house by ourselves.”
She snorts. “Of course not. You could kill yourself on the first rung of a ladder and if you think I’m carrying anything besides my own weight, you really have gone off your nut.”
“Oh thank God.”
“But we can’t let those two handle it. That would be an even bigger disaster.” She gets a sly look on her face. “I was thinking you could ask Leo.”
“Another favor?” I groan. “Well, what’s one more, I guess. Are we going to pay him?”
“In cookies and dinners? Sure.”
“You drive a hard bargain. Maybe his new girlfriend is making him dinner now and he doesn’t want your handouts.”
The look she gives me is hard to read, but before she can give voice to it—or not—a lightbulb goes off over my head.
I stand up straight, snapping my fingers. “Ellen Hargrove.”
“What? No, the girlfriend’s name is Victoria, I told you, and you know Leo will have moved on by next week.”
“No, no, not her.” I wave a hand, no longer worried about whose bed Leo is warming this week. “There was a ghost on the porch earlier and it’s Ellen Hargrove. Do you remember her?”
She squints, as though the action will help her remember. “Vaguely. She was younger than us, though, right? By quite a bit?”
I nod. “Yes, but she used to date one of Leo’s brothers so she’d hang around a lot in the summers. I didn’t know she died.”
“Neither did I, but I’m guessing if she showed up hazy and mute, that’s proof that she did.” Amelia pauses. “When did this happen?”
“Earlier tonight. I forgot to tell you because I was too busy following the orders of the Kitchen Commandant.”
Millie rolls her eyes, but her heart isn’t in it. Sorrow hangs in her gaze, and it matches the sadness wandering through me, unsure whether it’s coming or going. Part of it is that I knew Ellen, if only a little, and some of it is that she must have been young when she died. “At least this one might not be so hard to figure out, even with her not talking.”
Amelia’s lips tip up into a slight smile. “Don’t give me that, Grace. You love nothing better than a challenge, but if your ghosts have been anything, it’s consistent. I’m sure she won’t make it too easy on you.”
I stick my tongue out at my cousin and say good night, but I think about what she said as I retreat down the hall. Millie knows me better than anyone, and she’s spot-on with her assessment. If there’s one thing my new life isn’t, it’s boring. The thought of a new ghost, a new mystery, and the hopefully naked man in my bed, all things that help keep my life from being mundane, almost has me skipping down the hall.
Chapter Four
Leo is going to meet me for a run before work the next morning, an arrangement I agreed to in spite of the fact that it means I have to get out of bed and leave Beau at an ungodly hour. Mostly because I really, really want to ask Leo about Ellen Hargrove.
My boyfriend will likely be gone before I get back because he’s got a couple of busy days at the office with a new budget proposal to present to the council, so I leave him a note on the nightstand.
I feel a slight twinge of guilt, but things are so good and I didn’t want to talk about another guy in the afterglow of last night. The nice thing about Beau is that he probably won’t even think as hard about it as I am right now.
Outside, the morning air is frosty and clean. I stop on the porch to stretch my legs and check the swing for any sign of Ellen. I haven’t seen her since she first showed up yesterday afternoon. Then again, I haven’t been alone since then, either. Not until now, and there she is, in the same place. She raises the same finger, on the same hand, and points toward me. Her eyes, more familiar now that my memory has caught up, strike me as sad. The feelings that tickle my chest in her presence are confusion and grief, more than sadness.
“I’ll work on it, Ellen.” She straightens up when I use her name, surprise and pleasure flickering over her pretty features. “You’re going to have to point at something besides me, though. To get us started.”
She bites her lower lip, then startles and disappears without warning.
It’s because of Leo, who jogs up the driveway in a pair of black track pants and a gray Heron Creek baseball hoodie a moment later, right on time and already breathing fast from the trip here. I hop down to meet him, and we set off on what has become our regular path over the past couple of weeks. It’s nice, running again, even when it hurts and makes me want to die at the same time, and Leo’s a steady partner.
Running with guys can be a challenge, since so many of them feel the need to try to be macho and superior and push the pace a little faster than is comfortable for either of us just to show off, but none of that applies to Leo. I’ve never met anyone more comfortable in his own skin, anyone so comfortable with admitting he doesn’t have it all figured out. In some ways, the guy is my hero.
I would go on a date with one of the Ryan twins before I told him that, though.
“Morning,” I puff out. “How’d you sleep?”
The look he gives me says he thinks I need my head examined. “How did I sleep? Have we time traveled into the future and we’re both eighty years old?”
“We look damn good for eighty, right? And still jogging, too.” I fall silent, wondering now whether I should clarify or let him write it off as a brain fart.
Whatever. It’s Leo.
I open my mouth, but he interrupts. “If you’re referring to the fact that I’m seeing someone new, and this is your roundabout way of asking if we spent the night together, the answer
is no.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “No? Was this a first date?”
It couldn’t have been, not if Brick and Amelia saw them together the other night.
“Fourth.”
“Fourth date, and no spending the night?”
“No sleeping together, period, actually.”
“You’re going to give me a heart attack.” I fake stagger for a few steps and earn a rueful smile but not much else.
“Very funny. You know, I can be a gentleman.”
That makes me frown. “Obviously you can be a gentleman, and I’m not suggesting that your typical behavior when it comes to the women you date is anything gross, just that…” I run out of words, trying to decide how to put things delicately since Leo seems to have brought his feelings on our jog this morning.
“I usually don’t get to a fourth date?” he supplies.
“Right. That.”
He usually sleeps with them and decides soon after that they’re not what he’s looking for, for one reason or another. This change in the status quo leaves me feeling unsettled, and like I want to hold Leo back at my side and in a world where everything stays the same.
Leo’s not yours. You don’t get to keep him to yourself while you’re happy with Beau. Don’t you want that for him, too?
Of course I do. It’s just… I guess I’m not used to having to share his attention, is all. It’s a selfish thought, that if he and this Victoria woman start dating for real, he won’t be available whenever I call or text.
“Well, I guess I’m maturing.” He makes a face at my snort. “I like her. She wants to take things slow, so that’s what we’re doing.”
We jog in silence for a few minutes, taking the path that runs along the Charles River. The sun puts on quite a display on its way over the horizon, spilling bright purples, soft oranges, and streaks of pink onto the surface of the water.
“I’m happy for you,” I tell him, trying my best to mean it. “You deserve someone nice.”
“I feel like you’re maturing, and I’m not sure how to respond to that development.”
I shove him with one flailing arm, my puny force doing very little to jar his solid form. “Shut up. And you know I’m going to have to meet this young lady.”
Leo shakes his head, an incredulous expression on his face. “I’ve got a sister, Graciela, and Lindsay has already pulled that card.”
“Come on! Amelia and I are nice people! Triple date?”
“Triple?” His eyes are huge. “Brick asked her out?”
“No, but they behave like a couple so whatever. I’m just saying. Hang out with us.”
We slow to a walk at our normal place, then stop at some benches a half mile ahead to take a break. It’s too cold to sit, though, and shivers start in as soon as my sweat begins to cool.
“Can we go to Debbie’s instead of sitting here?”
Leo shakes his head and slides an appreciative gaze over my frame. “You’re about the only woman in the world who does a two-mile run and then asks for pancakes.”
I fold my arms over my chest and try to pretend my teeth aren’t chattering. “What makes you think I want pancakes? Maybe I’m growing in other ways.”
“Ordering waffles instead of pancakes to prove a point does not demonstrate personal growth, you know.” Despite his teasing, Leo starts walking toward Main Street.
“Maybe I’ll get something healthy,” I say, keeping pace with him. “Like an omelet.”
That makes him laugh again, and when I shove him this time, he stumbles a little bit because he’s out of breath. “You… Never mind.”
“No, what? Go ahead, I’m a big girl.”
“I was just thinking that for someone who spends all of her time on the Internet supposedly doing research, you apparently haven’t found the time to look up anything that pertains to this day and age. Like, per se, how many calories can be in omelets when one stuffs them full of ham and cheese.” He holds open the door at Debbie’s, and the place is packed with old-timers. They have to eat their breakfasts at seven because dinner is at four. Leo reaches out and flips my ponytail over my shoulder, his hand lingering for an odd moment. “It’s not a criticism. I find your inconsistencies adorable.”
I purse my lips and raise one eyebrow. “Nice try. Oh! There’s a booth.”
I scramble ahead of him and grab a seat, happy that the heat is turned up high inside. Maybe I should reconsider not hanging out with the oldies. They eat excellent food, and they enjoy rooms kept at a reasonable temperature.
When the waitress comes over we both ask for coffee and Leo orders pancakes, probably to mess with me. I ask for French toast, even though the pancakes are good, just to show him he doesn’t know everything about me.
It leaves him shaking his head with a slight smile. “I suppose one reason to run is so you can eat what you want when you want.”
“True. I do it to clear my head, and because I hate to pass up any opportunity to annoy you in person.”
The waitress, a woman in her forties who doesn’t seem familiar, drops off our coffee. I stir in cream and sugar while Leo sips his black.
“Do you remember Ellen Hargrove?” I ask.
The name startles him, recognition flickering in his blue eyes. They pierce me with suspicion at the question, which has been on my mind since I realized who she was. I hadn’t wanted to bring it up out of the blue, but it turns out it’s hard to find a natural way to ask someone about a dead girl from his past.
“Of course. She was one of Trent’s best friends when we were young, and then they dated for a long time. Why on earth are you asking about her?”
“I saw her on my porch yesterday morning.” I leave it at that, waiting for him to catch on without me having to say And she’s a ghost aloud in a restaurant. The people of Heron Creek may know about what’s happening in my life, and they may be relatively okay with it, but in the South, we keep our crazy carefully hidden behind closed, if not locked, doors.
Leo’s shoulders sag the moment he understands, and he stares down into his cup of coffee as if it can save him from the fact. “Damn.”
“What?”
“We’ve all been hoping she would turn up alive, I guess. Even after a year.”
My heart goes still. “Wait, no one knows she’s dead except me?”
He shakes his head. “Her parents thought she ran away, but no one has ever heard a word from Ellen since she disappeared a little over a year ago.”
“What about Trent?”
“I haven’t spoken to my brother in about as long, but I know they broke up before she went missing. Heard they stayed friends, or maybe that they were on-again, off-again, but I’m pretty sure he’s as lost as everyone else when it comes to what happened to her.”
I press my lips together, wondering if that’s true. It makes sense that Trent’s loyalty would be to Ellen and not to her parents, especially if the former had something to do with why she left.
Everyone knows that in nine out of ten kidnapping and disappearance cases, the culprit ends up being someone the victim knows, so there’s a good chance one of them does.
“Were the police involved?” Talking about a missing girl and the police brings my thoughts around to Travis. I really need to dig around online and see what dirt Clete managed to dig up on him after I told him about that missing child in Arkansas. It must have been good—and legitimate—for Travis to leave his position in Heron Creek without a fight.
I shove it aside for now, promising myself I’ll remember to do it at work. The list of things I need to research at work that have nothing to do with what I’m paid for keeps growing.
“Yes, of course. There were searches and news bulletins and all of that. The FBI was involved for a while, but there were no clues that I knew of, and eventually it petered out.” He sits back in the booth, the cheap, torn vinyl protesting beneath him. “It was like she vanished into thin air.”
“Well, now she’s dead and she wants something. I gues
s it’s up to me to find out what happened.”
Leo shakes his head. “I don’t know how you get yourself into these messes.”
My jaw drops. “Excuse me, but I do not ‘get myself into these messes.’ These people just show up asking for help, and what am I supposed to do? Tell them to go to hell?”
He winces at my choice of words. “Simmer down, Bugs. I know you’re tryin’ to do right by the dead, and I’ve got nothing to say against it. I was just kind of marveling at how you take it all in stride these days.”
“Oh. Well, fighting it didn’t do much good, and besides…I like helping. She seems confused.”
We fall silent as our food comes out and we dress it with butter and syrup. I take a bite, closing my eyes at the bliss of the sticky gooey goodness, and like a five-year-old, Leo cuts all his pancakes before starting to eat.
“I hope you do find out what happened to her,” he says. “She was a good girl. I hate to think it was something bad.”
In my ever-growing experience, spirits who left this earth of their own accord or with no unfinished business didn’t hang around my grandparents’ porch, but Leo already knows that. If he wants to hold out hope for a better outcome for Ellen, that’s his business.
My phone rings, the number for the Heron Creek police department flashing on the screen. Normally breakfast would take precedence, but I’m still on autopilot from the last month. I swipe it open, leaving a smear of syrup that transfers to my cheek. “Hello?”
“Gracie?” Will’s voice sounds distracted, and there’s a series of bangs and shuffles in the background. “Will you two idiots knock it off?”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Just babysitting the Ryan twins until the council hires a new detective.” It sounds as though he moves away from them because the chaos recedes into the background. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, but you should know my French toast is getting cold. What’s up?”
Please don’t let it be about Mel. I do not want to get in the middle of that, and I have a healthy fear that because I’m the one who brought Daria into our lives, I’m going to get blamed for his wife’s new career choice.
