“The Oaks?”
She snapped her fingers. “That’s the one. It’s the perfect place. The only spot on earth I can imagine spending the rest of my days. Think of it—beautiful tall trees during the day, sun-kissed gravestones, a cool breeze picking up the scent of honeysuckles. And at night”—she clapped her hands—“there’s a whole land filled with other spirits I can talk to who understand my pain and suffering.”
I glanced around the bridge. “Doesn’t look like you’re doing too much suffering here.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t know because you don’t live here, but it’s terribly lonely. It’s horrid, really.”
I folded my arms. “Francine, what would you like? To relocate to the Oaks?”
“How’d you ever guess?”
“Not difficult. So do you want me to find your replacement?”Please don’t ask that of me.That seemed impossible.
“No, no.” She cackled. “Nothing like that. I’m not delusional. But what I would like is for you”—she pointed at my chest—“to get me in that cemetery. Get me placed among the other ghosts. Convince them to accept me. You know, because it’ll make my transition smoother.”
She shook her head. “You wouldn’t believe this, but sometimes other ghosts can be difficult. Very territorial.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” I said sarcastically. Of course I’d noticed that. Spirits were the worst when it came to territory. They were practically soldiers guarding their turfs. In the past that attitude hadn’t made my job fun.
But it certainly had made it interesting.
I considered her offer. Though I couldn’t promise that the spirits at the Oaks would accept her, I could at least ask.
“I can’t say for sure that the other spirits will accept you, but I’ll do my best.”
Francine’s smile dimmed. “Then no deal,” she said with a flourish of her hands. “Either they accept me or I won’t help you. That’s it.”
So it was like that, was it?“I’ll talk to them. That’s all I can do.”
Her smile returned. “You ask them. Talk to them for me, will you, Blissful? That’s all I want,” she cooed. “Just see if they’ll take me. Then return here tomorrow night and let me know how it went.”
Francine shot me a wide smile. “Don’t forget…tomorrow night.” She floated away, shrinking by half her size in a matter of seconds. Within a blink she disappeared, but her voice lingered. “Come back with good news, Blissful.”
Then she was gone. I inhaled a deep breath and strode over the covered bridge to meet Ruth, Alice and Tart.
Tart hugged my shoulders. “What happened? The spirit’s energy was strange.”
“I’ll explain on the way home.”
Roan had waited patiently with the cars. When he saw me, his face broke into a wide smile. “Did your satanic ritual go well?”
I punched his arm. “I hope you’re joking.”
“Not about the secrecy,” he said with bite in his voice.
He was still ticked about how Tart had acted. I’d have to smooth things over with him and get to the root of her issue.
But first I had some cemetery stalking to do.
Roan dropped Tart and me off at my house, and I promised to call him later. Ruth and Alice piled into my rental, eager to show me what they’d caught on their ancient camera.
“Look, Blissful,” Alice said, pushing some buttons. “We got the banshee.”
“But does she even look like the banshee?” I said.
Alice’s mouth twisted in concentration. “Sort of. She sort of looks like her.”
Ruth peered into the viewfinder. “Yeah, if you stick a fat suit on her and put an eye patch on whoever’s looking at the video.”
