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“My apologies. You are correct, some ghosts can experience the supernatural equivalent of an orgasm.” He turns to me. “My theory is that most ectoplasm’s just ghost jizz.”

“Sweet Jesus,” I gripe. The ghost cocks one eyebrow and his lips move.

Beau crosses his arms and stares him down. “No, Jonathan, we do not want a demonstration, thank you very much.”

I close my eyes and squeeze the bridge of my nose.

“Christ on a bike, how is this my life?”

“Aw, come now. You should be flattered that we both find you so attractive.”

“He’s been dead for fifty-odd years!”

Beau nods approvingly. “Indeed, and apparently he still has excellent taste.”

The ghost smiles smugly and says something to him.

Beau grins. “Jonathan agrees with me on that point.”

I turn to the ghost, moving past the seriously weird side of this conversation and homing in on the more critical detail.

“So, when you were alive, you were gay? Bisexual?”

Being out in 1970s Britain wasn’t easy.

Beau pipes up. “Jonathan says he’s gayer than John Iman’s character on Are You Being Served?” Beau blinks. “Whoever that is.”

My mind races. A gay man in the ’70s, dressed in gold lamé and tight pants. What exactly was on this site at that time?

“What kind of place was here when you were alive?”

Beau focuses intensely as Jonathan talks to him.

“He can’t remember the name, but he does remember dancing.”

I scribble in my notebook: Nightclub?

“Why are you haunting the spin studio?” Beau asks. “Whatever used to be here is long gone.”

I wait impatiently as Jonathan talks to Beau, whose eyebrows slowly wing up higher on his forehead. Then he turns to me.

“Jonathan says he’s not entirely sure why he’s stuck here. It’s like he and the others were in a kind of limbo, similar to a slumber, for a long time. Then things changed and they woke up once construction was finished on this building. But it still took quite some time for them to manifest enough spiritual energy to do any real haunting.” His lips twitch. “Jonathan says he’s one of the strongest in the group, by the way.”

“If he’s the one making music play out of nowhere and projecting a phantom disco ball on the ceiling, then I’ll take him at his word on that.”

Jonathan puts his ghostly hands on his hips and mouths off to Beau about something.

I watch as Beau’s eyes widen and then he turns to me.

“He says they have unfinished business.”

I don’t like the sound of that or the worried look in Beau’s eyes.

“What kind of unfinished business?” I ask warily.

Beau gulps. “Um, remember how I told you there’s usually two types of unfinished business?”

“Aye.”