“Who’s got the key?” Slick said.
“She gave me an extra. I put it in my pocket,” Xavier said.
“Hurry,” Truck said. “That thing wants to kill us.”
I heard Xavier scramble with the locks until the door finally burst open. The men stormed outside.
I turned to the ghost. “So much for them staying until three. I knew they were chickens.”
She stared blankly at me.
I folded my arms and sank onto one hip. “You want to go to the light? You ready to meet your maker?”
An expression of terror filled her face, and an instant later the ghost vanished. “That’s what I thought.”
Normally I would have opened myself and showed the spirit the way. But I wasn’t here for her.
I bent down, grabbed one of the flashlights the men had dropped and headed outside. The van was empty.
“Whoa. She must’ve seriously scared the crap out of them.” I chuckled and headed around the restaurant. They might not stop running until they got far, far away.
I trekked to one side, where a rose trellis had been set. Xavier was leaning against it, one arm up. Poor guy must’ve been traumatized.
I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay? She was really scary, huh?”
He slumped over, taking the entire trellis with him. I pitched with him, landing on top of his back. I scrambled to my feet and realized something sticky was on my hands. When I looked down, I instantly knew what it was.
Blood.
Puncture marks marred his shirt. This wasn’t an accident. Xavier Bibb had been attacked. In the few moments it had taken for the crew to run outside, someone had been waiting.
He was covered in blood. I reached down to check his pulse.
There was none. He’d bled out and now Xavier was dead. A chill swept through me. I glanced around, trying to find his spirit. Where was it? It usually took a few minutes for the spirit of a dead person to transition over.
I caught a speck of light a few yards away. My gaze flickered to it. There stood the essence of Xavier Bibb. He looked exactly like his human self except he was wispy like a silvery cloud. I opened my mouth to call to him when a hand clasped around my face.
A frantic thought zipped through my head. Whoever had killed Xavier Bibb had come back to murder me, too.
SEVEN
Iraised my elbow and with all the force I owned, jammed it into the ribs of whoever was holding me.
“Sheesh, lady, ouch. What the…?”
I turned around. “Roan?”
He grunted and held his ribs.
“What are you doing here?”
Then it hit me. Dead body. Roan. Oh no. Hot bed-and-breakfast owner was a murderer. I glanced around for Xavier’s spirit. He might be able to tell me who had killed him before he jetted off to heaven. Or wherever cheesy television hosts went in the afterlife.
“I’m trying to help you,” Roan grunted.
“What are you talking about?”
Voices milled from the other side of the house. Roan and I exchanged a glance. He grabbed my arm.
