“Just because he isn’t having murderous thoughts, doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous.”
I shrugged. “True, but for a ghost struggling to remember his own name, I’m feeling pretty safe right now.”
“No one is safe,” the mysterious guy whispered.
Wonderful, we had a fatalist in our midst. I’m not sure I had the mental fortitude to deal with him right now. “Focus. What is your name?” I tried again. If I could find out his name, I could use the wonder that is the internet to search for his location and cause of death. Ghosts didn’t turn up at my house out of the blue, he’d been sent here for a reason and I needed to ferret out why.
A fierce frown appeared on his face and then his eyes lit up. Here we go. “My name is Caleb Duckstein.”
“Hi Caleb, I’m Cora and this is my friend, Harry.”
Caleb glanced at Harry. “Are you like me?”
“Dead? Very much so.”
“I’m dead?”
Why me? “Yes, you are dead, Caleb Duckstein, and we need to figure out why you were sent to me.”
We didn’t have time to deal with a deceased freak out, I needed to move this along. Duckstein was an unusual name—so unusual, it should make the search for him pretty easy. I sat in my office chair and flipped open my laptop. It whirred and beeped. I needed to update this ancient piece of equipment, I’m pretty sure laptops don’t beep anymore.
Harry and Caleb hovered at my back, their collective spiritual energy making my skin zing with electricity. I typed Caleb’s name into the search bar and found him on the second hit. A photo of a younger Caleb declared him as the school’s star quarterback. He was bright-eyed and bronzed, a far cry from his current state. That was four years ago. I clicked the photo and noted the school, then searched for it.
“Looks like you are from Peach Tree, a small town located a few hundred miles west of here.”
“That’s right, Peach Tree,” Caleb agreed.
I clicked on a few more news links but couldn’t find anything about his death. It should at least be in the obituaries unless it was recent. Small towns like Peach Tree reported on everything because there was little else to talk about. Which meant he died in the last day or so.
I spun in my chair to face him. “So why have you been sent to me?”
His eyes suddenly focused, lighting with clarity, and I knew as sure as the sun would rise tomorrow that I would not like his answer.
“The man sent me because they’re dead,” he said.
“We already know you are dead,” Harry stated.
“Who’s dead?” I asked.
Caleb’s eyes met mine. “Everyone. Everyone in Peach Tree is dead.”
A shiver ran down my spine. Perhaps I should play the lottery today given my ability to predict the future?
“And you were sent by a mysterious man to inform me of this? Do you know who he was?”
“No, I’d never seen him before, but he guided me here.”
I sighed. I guess I was going to Peach Tree. I snapped my laptop shut and placed it inside my desk drawer before stalking through to my lab. I grabbed my emergency black bag containing a variety of potions, a change of clothing, and items that one might need when venturing off to view dead bodies and unknown crazy situations. I’d put it together recently, due to the fact my life seemed to regularly involve solving crime.
I trotted up the stairs and nearly ran straight into Dave who was hovering at the doorway like a creeper. I arched a brow as I grabbed my car keys from behind the desk and smiled at Maggie. She handed me today’s mail.
I shuffled through the white envelopes. Bill, bill, insurance. A small black card with a single vertical gold line decorating the left side stood out among the demands. I flipped it over. The words ‘You are invited’ sat in elegant script, the letters shining like molten gold.
“Who delivered this?” I asked Maggie.
She tilted her head. “The mailman.”
Ugh, help me now with these teenagers. “It doesn’t have an address.”
