It hit me. “Me,” I said. “You want people like me to leave you alone.”
“That would be most appropriate,” Captain Blount said.
“I can only promise that I won’t help you cross over if you don’t want me to, but as for others like me, I can’t speak for them. You’d have to appeal to them directly.”
“Then it’s no deal,” Granny Mildred said. “We want our rights fair and square. If you can’t promise them, we’re out of here.”
They started to disappear. I reached out. “But wait!”
Too late. They’d vanished.
Sheesh. These folks were a thousand times more hardheaded than any living people I’d ever dealt with. They wanted me to speak for the Ghost Team and for other humans who helped spirits cross. Well, I couldn’t do that.
If they wanted to remain safely where they were, meaning spirits inhabiting the earth, then they’d have to stay right where they were—haunting gravestones in Haunted Hollow.
I sighed and sank to the ground. Great. Now I was back to square one. Looked like the best chance I had of finding out if the computer was at Slick’s house would be to do a little breaking and entering all by my lonesome.
I wouldn’t involve Alice or Ruth—they had reputations to uphold in town.
Me, I didn’t care about my reputation. All I cared about was getting the e-mail and kicking Anita on her butt out of my job.
My heart clenched. Or did I? Was there more I cared about than that? The friendship I’d seen between Ruth and Alice made me yearn for something else than simply tracking down rogue spirits and forcing them to cross to the other side.
I was waiting. Waiting for my life to begin.
A crushing sensation filled my chest. After all, I’d felt my life had nearly ended when my father died. He, along with the Ghost Team, had been my life.
Now both were gone.
Yet I didn’t feel as empty as I’d figured I would. I wasn’t crippled by loneliness. No, I’d become so obsessed with work that I’d pushed all other feelings to the side.
But now that the work wasn’t in front of me, now that I had some distance from it, I could see that there was so much more I wanted to do.
“Blissful Breneaux.”
I jerked my head toward the voice. A chill prickled down my spine as my gaze swept over the gravestones.
Hovering several yards away bobbed a translucent spirit. His form was long, meaning he was tall, with flowing dark hair, luminescent skin. Well, you know, not really skin, but he himself was luminescent.
His voice was gravel-filled. His dark eyes were piercing, and his mouth coiled into a mocking smile.
“It’s been a long time, Lucky,” I said.
Lucky Strike pulled a crumpled pack of smokes from his pocket. He tapped a cigarette into his palm, brought it to his lips and lit it with a ghostly Zippo.
“Blissful Breneaux,” he repeated in a deep voice. “I hear you’ve been looking for me.” He gave a slight bow. “Well, you’ve got my attention. What can I do for you?”
TWENTY-ONE
So many thoughts rampaged in my mind. The first was that I longed for my Ghost Team gear. I wanted to trap Lucky. Wrangle him with the customized lasso I owned—one specifically designed for holding spirits.
But the one from Alice that I jerry-rigged might still work as well.
But unfortunately I didn’t have it.
Lucky took a long pull from his ghostly cigarette. “What do you want?”
To take you in? Stop you from causing any more mayhem?
