“I’ll be outside. There’s a lot of work to do. If you need me, call,” he says, winking. My eyes follow him out of the room, a tightness in my chest forcing me to rub it out.
“You were saying, dear?” Mrs.Craft brings me back to why I’m here.
“I recently purchased a set of Turkish dishes from Marmalade and Rye, and it’s been brought to my attention that it belonged to you.”
Mrs.Crafts’s eyes lower to the floor, and she twists her fingers.
“I wanted to return them to you.”
Her head snaps up. “W-what? You bought them fair and square. They’re yours now.”
My head shakes. “Mrs.Craft, please forgive me for being so candid, but I learned of your circumstances and all you’ve been through, and I just don’t feel right keeping something that should’ve never left your possession.”
“She also has a pesky guest that won’t leave her alone because of it.” I elbow Corinne in the side and she harrumphs, shooting a glare into the side of my head.
Tears well in her eyes, and I have a strong desire to console her. She wipes away a wayward drop and straightens her shoulders. “That’s... very kind of you, Alyssa.”
I raise a hand to stop her. “Please don’t thank me for doing the right thing. I want you to have them back.”
“Corinne,” I say, turning toward her. “Can you please bring in the boxes?”
Her nose scrunches, signaling she isn’t happy. “I didn’t come along to play assistant.”
“Yes, you did,” I say through my teeth, maintaining a smile that probably looks deranged.
She huffs and stamps her foot like a child, but eventually heads toward the door, mumbling curses under her breath.
“Would you like something to drink?” Mrs.Craft asks.
Based on the state of the place, I won’t be eating or drinking anything offered here.
“I’m fi—Ouch!” I rub at my arm, raising my eyes to Ollie’s smug smile. Somehow he managed to pinch me. “How...”
I want to ask how the hell he accomplished that, but based on the look I’m getting from Mrs.Craft, I think better of it.
“Something wrong, dear?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Just a bite. Nothing of concern.”
“Accept the drink,” Ollie grits through his teeth. “It’s important to her that she can repay the gesture in some way.”
I pull a face at thin air and Mrs.Craft clears her throat.
“Umm... water please? Thank you.”
She smiles before shuffling off to the kitchen.
I swing around toward Ollie. “Don’t pinch me again, asshole. I didn’t want her to get me a glass and fall. If you can’t tell, she’s not exactly agile.”
“Don’t offend my mother,” he snaps back. “This place might be cluttered, but it’s clean.”
I grimace, continuing to rub my arm. “It wasn’t my intention to offend.” I narrow my eyes at the surly spirit. “How did you pinch me, anyway? I was told that’s impossible.”
He shrugs. “I got pissed enough, and it happened.”
I’ve read of accounts where ghosts have moved objects and inflicted wounds on people, but I hoped that was all crap when Billyassured me he couldn’t hurt me. I make a mental note to check the book or research ways to protect myself from bodily harm. Until I’m armed with that knowledge, I’ll keep some distance between Ollie and me.
Across the room and through towers of books and newspapers is a rectangular wooden end table with several framed photos. I zigzag my way through the maze of collectibles and bend down to take a closer look. They’re pictures of Mrs.Craft, Ollie, and a beautiful girl with flowing red hair that I’ve never seen.
