Page 27 of Old Flames

The group was down two members when they headed to Willie T’s. Daphne and Ayesha had called it a night. Leo and the others refused to. After all that talk of death, they wanted to feel alive. At the bar, they marveled over the walls and ceilings coated with dollar bills, some signed by famous patrons. After adding a few bills of their own, they gathered at a bar-height table, silent and subdued. Except Dick, who’d ditched them to hang out by the bandstand, alone, red-faced and sweaty, swaying to a live cover of a Willie Nelson song.

The ghosts of the tour haunted them still.

Sebastien addressed it head-on. “Not to be dramatic, but that tour freaked me the fuck out.”

Vicky lowered her head in her hands. “Same here,” she admitted. “They might’ve hammed it up, but they didn’t tone it down.”

Like the wonks they were, they soon pivoted to whatever plot devices could be useful in their work.

“Do you think there’s something to the doll in the attic story, or is it overdone?” Matty asked.

The group trashed the idea.

“Matty, I swear,” Sebastien started. “If I have to sit through one more movie about a freakish doll, I’ll lose it!”

“Agreed,” Leo said. “Chucky spoiled it for everyone.”

Sebastien muttered, “Annabelle.”

“I’m committed to telling Aurora’s story,” Vicky said. “She’s a vengeful spirit. I can feel it.”

“That haunted church is calling my name,” Sebastien said. “What do you mean they still hear children laughing and playing around the statue of an angel? That breaks my heart.”

Vicky shivered. “There are dark powers at play in this world.”

Leo was only interested in the dark power that Jules possessed, the hold that she had on him. He noticed that she didn’t participate much in any conversation. Instead, she studied everyone as if she were reading their thoughts. Who knew what was going on in that mind? And when she glanced his way and caught him staring, she arched an inquisitive brow. He did not turn away or make excuses for his behavior. He was fascinated with her. The sooner she knew it, the better.

“I call dibs on the doll,” Matty said. “Not sure what I’ll do with it but dibs all the same.”

Everyone groaned.

The band started on a Shania Twain hit. Sebastien perked up. “We’ll feel better if we dance! Let’s go girls!”

Vicky grabbed Jules by the arm. “Come on, Jelly Bean!”

Jelly Bean?

They whirled away just when their server, a young man named Jonas, arrived with their third round of drinks. Jonas reached for a pen and notebook in his apron. Matty stopped him. “Not so fast! Keep the tab open.”

“No worries there,” he said, and produced a slim weather-beaten paperback of Leo’s debut novel. The very first edition of The Forever Toll.

“You just happen to be reading this?” Leo asked, doubtful.

“No, but I figured you’d show up here while you’re in town. Most tourists do.”

“Are we that pathetic?” Matty wondered aloud.

“Not pathetic,” Jonas said. “Predictable. If you didn’t end up here, you’d be at Sloppy Joe’s . . . or at the Green Parrot.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll hit all those spots,” Leo said, his eyes on Jules. She was smooth on the dance floor, moving to the rhythm, but her heart wasn’t in it.

Matty tossed back the tequila shot. “I’m offended no one cares enough to stalk me.”

“We care, but you write doorstoppers. This was the only book that fit my pocket.”

“Now, that makes me feel better,” Matty said. “Who’s we?”

“Me and my girlfriend.”