I zipped my jacket. “Well then I’m pretty much up crap creek, aren’t I?” I glanced at the breakfast I’d decimated. “Thanks for the pancakes. I owe you one.”
“Blissful.” The sound of my name on his lips made electricity shoot straight up my back.
“Yeah?”
Roan shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything.”
I reachedBlustery Books a few minutes later. Luckily the kid hadn’t stolen my keys. He’d be in huge trouble then. Not that he wasn’t already.
I hadn’t seen Susan in a while. Though it was nice to have some ghost-free moments, I sort of found myself missing her company.
It wasn’t like I was worried or anything. It isn’t as if she’d been murdered. The woman was already dead. She would show up eventually.
It was a crisp morning in Haunted Hollow. A breeze prickled my skin. I pulled my jacket tight around my neck. I suddenly wished I’d brought a scarf. I walked up the steps to the shop and pushed open the door.
“All right. Where is he? Where’s the little twerp?”
The few shoppers in the room stopped and stared at me. You know, sometimes I forget that people can’t see spirits like I can. It would make my life a lot easier if they did. Then I wouldn’t walk around having what looked like conversations with invisible friends, nor would I be a potential inmate at the county mental health facility.
Mr. Hodges appeared from the back. He wore a heather-gray V-neck sweater and plaid shirt underneath. He had the whole laid-back-prof thing going on. His spectacles helped with it.
“I’m sorry, what little twerp are you looking for?”
“Ricky.” I glanced away uneasily. “He stole my wallet.”
Mr. Hodges stopped. “Ricky usually returns the things he steals.”
“Well he didn’t return this, but he can now.” I brushed past Hodges. “Where are you, Ricky? Bring me my wallet or you’ll see the light, whether you want to or not.”
“Sometimes he’s shy,” Mr. Hodges said.
“Shy my lily rear end.” I peeked in the corners. “Come on, Ricky. I need my wallet.”
The door swung open. I turned around and saw Truck enter. “What’s he doing here?” I mumbled.
Mr. Hodges left me and crossed to Truck. “Truck, I’m so sorry. I heard about Xavier. How are you?”
Truck brushed away what looked like a tear. That was a change from yesterday, when he looked like he wanted to punch Xavier in the face.
“I’m hanging in there. It’s been hard. I’ve got some things of Xavier’s that I meant to get back to him. I’d borrowed some stuff. Now I guess there’s no need.”
A man I hadn’t seen walked up. “I guess there won’t be any more Ghost Wranglers, huh?”
Truck pinched the corners of his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as if he damming up his tears. “We might stay on. The movie company that had contracted Xavier already called this morning.”
“That worked out well for you.” Literally the words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.
The men stopped and stared at me. I shrugged. “Ricky,” I said loudly, desperately trying to cover, “that worked out well for you—taking my wallet, huh?”
I turned back to the wall and peered around the shelves. Truck talked to the men for a few more minutes while I played back the conversation in my head. Truck said he had some things of Xavier’s. Was one of those things Xavier’s computer?
It would be worth a look. The men finished up their conversation and Truck left.
My patience was threadbare. I glared around the shop. “Come on, Ricky. I don’t have all day.”
“Perhaps,” Mr. Hodges said, coming up behind me, “if you were a bit nicer, the spirit would comply.”
“Nah,” I said. “They obey commands better than asking nicely.” I fisted my hands. “If you give me my wallet right now, I’ll bring back a treat from the candy store.”
