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I inhale sharply and damn near drop my phone again. “You can see it?”

He beams back. “Of course I can, darlin’. Not only can I see him, I can also hear him—and what he’s saying is mighty strange.”

CHAPTER

FOUR

Thanks for tuning in to another episode of Beau’s Boos and Beyond, y’all. I’m your host, Beau Montgomery, and today we’re going to talk about unfinished business.

It’s the number one reason most spirits are stuck here in this realm rather than moving on to the next. Lots of folks kick the bucket before they’re ready to, and that means they may have lingering attachments or regrets that keep them in limbo. Now, that’s not to say they’re trapped here forever. Some are able to eventually move on by themselves. Others need a helping hand, which is something I try to offer to those who are willing. But sadly, some spirits will probably stay here forever.

I’ve seen all kinds in this category. Some clearly suffered a trauma so terrible they’re still in a state of shock even after death. Others are so downright scared that they refuse to budge. And some spirits actually seem content to remain here and observe the living. Every spirit’s a little bit different, just like we all are when we’re alive.

However, there’s another category of spirit, and that’s the malevolent type. We’ll get to that in another episode.

—Beau’s Boos and Beyond, Episode 4

Beau

The sexiest man I’ve seen since landing in Heathrow and I stare at one another, locked in a weird kind of stalemate.

“What’s your name, darlin’?” I ask with a sultry little purr, laying on my Southern charm. Mama always tells me it’s one of my superpowers.

“How the bloody hell did you get in here?” he demands, ignoring my extended olive branch.

“Well, if you hadn’t left the door unlocked⁠—”

He scowls. “I locked that damn door, I know I did.”

I chuckle. “Spirits can do the darndest things sometimes.”

His brow furrows, and he narrows his eyes. “I’m Callum Fraser. I’ve been hired to investigate the bizarre goings-on in this building.” He crosses his arms and stares me down. “Did Mimi send you? Or worse yet, that sleazeball, Gerald?”

My charms, such as they are, don’t appear to be working on him.

Well, I always have loved a challenge.

I redouble my efforts and flash him a mega-watt smile. “I’m afraid I don’t know a Miz Mimi or a Mr. Gerald. Like I said, I was drawn here by the spiritual energy coming off this place. It’s quite strong but unstable.”

“Are you fuckin’ joking?”

His voice is deliciously growly, and his Scottish accent is sexy as hell but not as thick as I’ve heard in some films and television shows. My guess is he’s lived in London for some time, and his accent may have softened as a result.

Something I’ll have to explore as I get to know him better. Because I certainly plan to.

He looks me up and down skeptically, then points a thumb at the apparition beside him. “You seriously can hear what this thing’s saying?”

“Of course I can, sugar, but I honestly don’t know what it means. And please don’t call him a thing, that used to be a person. Spirit, ghost, apparition—any of those options would be more appropriate and polite until we learn this poor soul’s name. But at the moment, our friend here seems disoriented and confused. Not uncommon with some spirits though.”

I listen to another cycle of the ghost’s refrain and then turn my attention back to Callum.

“He keeps saying It won’t open. Help. It won’t open.”

Callum pulls out a small notebook from a pocket and quickly jots down what I’ve told him, frowning as he does so.

And how does he make even that look hot?

“Any ideas what it might mean?”