by Eryn Scott
“This lady’s been everywhere. I’m not sure how to find what’s important because there’s so much. She was definitely used to luxury.”
Asher let his eyebrows rise. “Doesn’t sound like someone ready to settle down in a modest little cottage on the beach.”
I placed a finger on the tip of my nose. “It’s too bad there’s not a ghost hanging around Gretta Montgomery’s realty office. We could really use an inside scoop on whether or not Tabby’s working behind the scenes to sell Murray’s house now that he’s out of the picture.”
Mumbling his agreement, Asher let his head fall back, acting as if he were resting it on the back of the recliner. And even though we’d moved on from talk of Lois, I couldn’t seem to get the missing ghost out of my mind.
I hesitated before asking, “Is it possible Lois moved on, and Max just doesn’t want to admit that she’s actually gone?” My mouth pulled into a cringe after I asked the question. “It was hard for me to accept that Grandma had passed on to the other side when she did. Even though I was happy that she was at peace, it was difficult to see her go.”
“Not to mention that Helen’s the only other spirit we’ve known to flicker like this, and you saw her do it before she left for good.” Asher ran the back of his hand over his jaw as he considered my words.
I appreciated that he entertained my thoughts and gave me the benefit of best intentions. It made me feel like he really respected my opinions and ideas. The reality that I wasn’t giving him the same respect by keeping secrets from him about his death sat on my shoulders like the weight of one of the larger pieces of driftwood sitting out on the beach.
Asher snapped his fingers together. “Oh, one thing Max mentioned was overhearing an odd conversation near the police station today.”
I pushed my guilt aside and leaned forward to listen.
“He’s been hanging out there the past few days,” Asher explained, “wondering if Lois might reappear somewhere near where her killer spends his time. Anyway, Max overheard the chief on the phone. It was a tense call, and he heard the words ‘flight risk’ and ‘never checked in.’ Max didn’t know what to make of it, but after hearing Geoff’s story about his prison mate, it might be something.”
I bobbed my head. “That definitely sounds promising. Clemenson could’ve been talking to the other prisoner’s parole officer.”
Asher waved a hand toward me. “Of course, he could’ve easily been talking to a dozen other people.”
Pressing my lips together, I exhaled. “True. And it seems very odd that this other prisoner would use the week he gets out of jail to murder someone he has no connection to when he’s never committed a violent crime.”
“That we know of.” Asher held up a finger.
“That we know of,” I conceded. “This would be so much easier if we had the chief’s evidence and notes. Like, who is Mike Smith? I tried looking him up, but his name is too common. There were a dozen in the prison he and Geoff went to alone. Plus we still don’t even know the name of the poison that killed Murray.”
Asher groaned. “Is it weird that I’m disappointed in the rest of the local ghosts for never having run-ins with the law and making it so we can’t get inside the building?”
I chuckled. “If you’re wrong, I’m wrong too.”
Closing my laptop, I ran a hand through my hair, tugging my way through a small knot. “I need to go into town to meet with Jolene. I’m bringing her a new blend, and I’m picking up tomorrow’s baked goods while I’m there.”
Asher gave me a salute. “Make sure you eat something while you’re in town. You seem a little tired.”
My lips tipped up into a grin. “Okay, Mom.”
The ghost put his hands up. “Just worried about you.”
“I know.”
Asher’s sweet concern followed me all the way into town, putting me in a better mood.
I waved at Jolene as I entered her tea shop. Until that point in our relationship, Jolene and I had been focused mostly on business, so when she took the tea from me and handed over a bakery box then squinted and said, “Wanna have dinner with me?” I accepted, excited to get to know her better.
We walked down to the Marina Mug, discussing how we were both looking forward to Vicki’s famous macaroni and cheese.
Evenings were turning out to be my favorite part of the day during summer in the cove. The heat from the sun was abating, creating a temperature that was not too hot, but not too cold either; it was perfect. Birds living in the cove chirped their agreement, chattering energetically compared to their sleepier state during the hotter part of the day.
Sighing as I glanced around, I noticed that Jolene appeared just as taken as I was by our surroundings. We shared a kindred smile before stepping inside the diner.
The Marina Mug was hopping, but Jolene and I found a table by a window overlooking the water. Just outside the open window was a planter full of begonias. Their bright reds and pinks played off the warm tones edging the sky as the sun set. The gentle lapping of the waves in the cove mingled with the conversation in the café.
Jolene watched me out of the corner of her eye. Seeing I’d caught her, she reddened and said, “How are you feeling about how this is going?” She motioned between the two of us. “This whole business partnership?”
Breath caught in my throat as panic took over. Was she unhappy? I hadn’t even considered that I might be the only one feeling so positive about our arrangement. I mean, it seemed to be mutually beneficial at this moment from a sales point of view, but I couldn’t say much with this only being our first week.
Jolene’s eyes scanned my face, and I could see my panic register in her features. Her mouth dropped open, and she held up a hand. “I’m thrilled; I want you to know. I just realized I hadn’t asked you yet. No need to worry.”
I laughed. “I’m not very good at keeping my emotions from showing up on my face.”
Jolene nodded. “Fair. I’m not either.”
“But to answer your question,” I said, “I’m so happy. That was me panicking about liking it so much and worrying you might not.” I pointed to my face and made a circle with my finger.
We joked about the misunderstanding a few more times throughout dinner. I enjoyed talking with Jolene. She was funny, kind, and intelligent. I wondered if Murray would still be alive if he’d chosen Jolene instead of Tabitha.
We parted at the marina parking lot, and I headed toward my car. I got in, snuggling the large bakery box into the passenger seat and clipping the seat belt around the precious cargo just in case.
And I would’ve started my car and driven away if it wasn’t for what I saw in my rearview mirror.
Police Chief Clemenson jogged across the street, away from the police station and to his SUV parked behind mine. A thick manila envelope was tucked under one arm. It looked to be full of papers.
Evidence? Case files? My heartbeat quickened.
Feeling like a peeping Tonya, I slid a fraction lower in my seat, keeping my eyes locked on the chief in my rearview. I gasped when he reached into the vehicle through a half-opened window and set the file on the front seat. Snaking his arm back out, he turned and jogged toward the Geoduck.
My already wide eyes opened wider, causing me to blink out of necessity. Could getting the files I need be this easy? I wondered.
The chief hadn’t been able to reach all the way inside, due to his large forearms, but my arms were slender and long. I was sure I’d be able to retrieve the folder from the front seat with that much of a gap in the window.
Shooting a furtive glance around the marina parking lot, I ascertained that I was alone. The knowledge that Pebble Cove didn’t have a security camera to its name also helped, but I did a quick visual sweep of the parking lot and the surrounding business buildings just to be safe.
I slipped out of my car, feeling snakelike as I slunk across the parking lot. While I walked, my conscience reminded me that stealing documents from a police officer was mo
st likely a felony.
But it wasn’t like I would steal anything. I would simply search through the files and take pictures of anything I thought looked interesting and then put it right back. The chief would be none the wiser.
And it probably would’ve really been that easy. But as I closed in on the chief’s vehicle, I spotted Lois darting behind the police station building.
Wrinkling my nose at the quandary before me, I peered down at the file—visible in the window, so close—and then at the wispy remains of the ghost we were all worried about.
If I missed my chance to help Lois because I was stealing something from the chief’s car, I could never forgive myself.
18
The Pebble Cove police station was sandwiched in between the local pizza place and a bait and tackle stop. There was, however, a compact space between the buildings, about five feet. Shrubbery and compact trees grew in this area, and they smacked me in the face as I went tearing through the narrow wooded alley after Lois.
“Lois,” I whispered as my eyes adjusted to the darkness created from the dense foliage. “Lois, I know you came back here. Where are you?” I kept my voice low, knowing the chief might’ve left for the night, but other officers might still be on duty.
The plants spit me out at the back of the building, and I picked a few twigs and leaves from my hair and shirt collar as I walked forward. There was a small yard behind the station with a shed and an old police car parked in front of it. A neglected-looking barbecue sat pushed up against the exterior wall, proof they hadn’t had a station cookout in much too long.
Irritation rose in hot waves along my collarbone. I’d given up the chance to take a peek at evidence for this? For nothing? I was about to turn around and see if I could get my fingers on that folder when I heard something.
It started as a sniffle, which really could’ve been made by any handful of cove-dwelling creatures, but the sob attached to the end told me this was no squirrel.
Then, behind the old cruiser, I spotted a faint glow, a similar flickering to what I’d witnessed under Doc’s porch before Lois disappeared. Setting my jaw, I stormed over to the ghost.
The hundred feet helped to vent the worst of my frustrations. By the time I reached her, I’d reminded myself that she was in whatever situation she was in because of me—indirectly, sure, but I’d brought it on.
“Lois,” I called softly as I rounded the parked car and announced my presence.
I stopped short as she came into view. Whereas she’d sounded upset, as if she’d been crying, her face was tight with anger, and her teeth clenched as much as ghost teeth can. Her flickering had become more of a pulse, and I flinched when she turned her rabid energy my way.
“What do you want?” she growled.
Grimacing, I took a tentative step back. “Lo—” I held up a hand as she raced forward, stopping inches from me. “Now, Lois. I-I … this isn’t … I-I’m sorry—” I stammered stupidly, wishing I could form even one semi-complete sentence.
And even though I knew she might simply waft through me, there was also the reality that she could use energy to hurt me if she wanted. But as if flipped by a switch, Lois’s anger vanished. Her face went slack, and her blue eyes searched my terrified features.
She floated back a few feet. “I’m so sorry, so sorry. My anger is misplaced. I’m not mad at you, Rosie. I’m so sorry for coming at you like that.”
Shoulders falling from where they’d tensed up by my ears, I said, “It’s okay. What are you doing, though? Everyone’s worried about you.” I searched her face.
Lois floated back and forth, almost like she was pacing. She lifted her hand to her forehead and flickered even more intensely. “I know. I know everyone’s worried.”
I waited for something more, waited for the explanation about why she’d disappeared.
“Lois, it was wrong of me to ask you to go in there. I didn’t know who he was until after I asked.” I gestured to the police station behind me.
She turned to look me in the eyes again. “But I should be able to.” Her face creased in pain. “I’m happy now; he can’t hurt me anymore; I should go in there. I wanted to help you. I really did.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, settling onto the picnic bench nearby, showing her I was ready to listen.
Lois followed me. “When you brought it up, I realized how much I wanted to, how I want to face him now. But every time I thought about confronting him, I started to do this…” She glanced down at her arm, flickering away.
I nodded. “My grandma’s spirit flickered like this once. Her killer showed up, and she was trying to hurt me. Are you worried about him hurting someone else?”
Lois swallowed, the motion purely habit since she no longer had a throat. “This might be selfish, but I was mostly worried about him hurting me again. And then I started wishing I could hurt him. And then I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it, or doing this.” She gestured to her flickering body.
“Lois, you have the right to be angry for the way he treated you, and the things he did to hurt you.”
She blinked sheepishly at me. “But what would I say to him?” she pleaded. “I know I have opinions and I’m happy now, but I wasn’t always as progressive as this. When I was with Daniel, I didn’t stand up for myself. What if I fall back into that pattern the moment I try to confront him?”
I pursed my lips together as I thought about that. As much as I’d grown past many of my neuroses left over from being sick, I knew how easy it was to fall back into old patterns when we were put in stressful or similar situations. “What if we practice what you want to say?” I suggested. “I can help you, if you want.”
Lois’s ghostly eyes looked like they might well up with tears. She pressed her trembling lips together. “I would like that.”
A half hour later, we had—in my opinion—a fantastic speech planned. It was strong and highlighted the injustices Lois endured during her marriage to Daniel and would cut the blustering man down.
“So that’s why I feel sorry for you, Daniel,” Lois said, coming to the end of her most recent run-through of the speech. “Because you have to live with yourself and what you did, forever.” She sent a smoldering glare at the azalea next to the building we’d been using as our substitute Chief Brown since it was about the same height.
I clapped to show her I liked her addition of that last line.
“Live with is obviously a figurative saying in this sense,” she explained.
“I think he’ll get it,” I said.
Whereas Lois’s expression had grown steadier, sterner throughout our practice sessions, her eyes now widened in fear. “Do I have to say it to him now?” she asked.
“Not if you’re not ready,” I whispered. “You can wait and confront him whenever you feel like it.”
She fidgeted with her hands.
“In fact,” I added, “it might be good for you to get some space, go run it by Max. I know he’s been very worried about you.”
Her face softened, and she even smiled for the first time since the flickering started. “That sounds like a splendid plan.” She nodded. Gesturing in front of her, she led the way through the bushes and around to the front of the police station.
As we rounded the corner, I spied Chief Clemenson’s SUV still parked in the lot across the street. The window was still cracked ever so slightly.
A surprised gasp filled the air.
It took me a moment to realize that it hadn’t been me who’d gasped. When I turned back, Lois’s mouth was open, and she was staring at the police station door like a rabbit who just spotted a wolf.
And sure enough, her own version of a wolf stood there, appearing to be just as stunned. My gaze shifted between them, and each time I looked, it seemed like they wore a completely different expression, like a weird version of that peekaboo game people play with babies. From Lois to Chief Butler and back again. It was shock and shock, then frustration and excitement, and fina
lly anger and remorse. The whole time Lois flickered away, like a light bulb on the fritz.
“Lois?” the ghost chief asked tentatively.
Lois inhaled and pursed her lips as if she was about to launch into her prepared speech. But something else stole away her attention.
“Lois, doll. You okay?” Max asked, stepping toward her.
He wore an enormous smile on his face. It faltered when he caught sight of her ex-husband standing yards away.
And I’m not sure if it was because I’d just spent the better part of an hour coaching her through a speech and listening to her spill her innermost feelings, but I really felt like I could tell everything Lois was thinking in the following moments.
She glanced from Max, back to Daniel, back to Max. From the way her shoulders dropped and her fists released at her side, I felt suddenly certain that no one else would hear the speech we’d practiced. And even though it hadn’t been our plan, I suddenly realized how much better this choice was for her. My lips pulled into a proud smile.
Lois stopped flickering. She returned to her regular, semitransparent self in an instant.
There was a new lightness to her posture when she walked forward, stretching her hand out toward Max. Lois was letting Daniel go. Like her last line had said, she was happy now, and she felt sorry for him. And from his expression, as Lois walked away with Max, that hurt more than any prepared words ever could.
I felt like clapping, so I did. Lois turned back to me and blew me a kiss. I laughed. Until, that is, I looked back at the ghostly chief whose countenance had flattened. I waved as he peered at me.
“Wait …? You can see her? Can see me?” His face crumpled into a scowl. “I—”
Before he could say anything more, I jogged across the street. “Gotta go. Sorry,” I called over my shoulder.
Luckily, Chief Butler must’ve been too stunned by everything that had just happened because he didn’t follow me. And I thought my good deed had won me some ultimate karma points because Chief Clemenson’s window was still within reach and the parking lot still empty. I veered toward the car, my hands sweaty at my sides.
