Page 35 of Ghost Town Boogie

Angry as she was, she suspected Colt was trying to figure out who’d murdered Jack so the ghost could move on. Ridiculous. Not possible. How could she even consider that as a possibility! And yet…

Her Mom was napping in the guest room. There had been a lot of phone calls this morning, to the insurance agent, to friends and family. Plans had been made. Emily would be here tomorrow to collect her Aunt Nina and head to Florida. Anna and her mom were supposed to hit up a couple of downtown boutiques this afternoon; that was the plan. While Anna was perfectly happy with her Walmart finds, Nina Miller wanted scarves, hats, perhaps a nicer blouse or two. Or five.

No wonder her closets had been filled to overflowing. How had she ended up with so much when she hadn’t left the house for years? So much of what she’d had in her closets was old – vintage, she supposed you could say – and these days everyone delivered.

Yes, plans were underway. The last of the Millers would be out of Seawolf Beach soon, with questions unanswered, with mysteries unsolved…

Meet me on the porch, Anna texted. I want to know everything.

As soon as she sent that text, the couch she was sitting on shuddered. It jumped and skittered on the floor.

Anna looked up and around. All was quiet and still again. She saw nothing. She heard nothing. “Jack?” she whispered.

The couch shuddered again, more gently this time.

It was impossible. Couldn’t happen. Jack wasn’t dead. There was no such thing as ghosts. The man she’d fallen for at the age of fourteen and rediscovered at thirty-six wasn’t a ghost-whisperer.

And yet…

CHAPTER 13

Colt dreaded the discussion ahead of him. His feet didn’t exactly drag, but he didn’t hurry down the sidewalk, either. He played the coming conversation in his head, again and again. Sometimes it went well; others, not so much. He knew what he had to say, but what would Anna’s response be? Trying to guess was foolish, but he did it anyway.

Anna and her brother waited on the front porch. She sat in the rocking chair nearest the front door. Jack didn’t need a chair, so the other rocker was empty, sitting there as if it was waiting for Colt. Did she feel better talking to him outside, where others might see as they drove or walked by? She was afraid, as others had been. She didn’t want to be alone with him. Another explanation might be that her mother was indoors, and this wasn’t going to be a conversation for Nina Miller’s ears.

He’d delayed long enough. Might as well not bother with niceties. Let’s go…

“Do you really want to know everything?” he asked as he walked up the steps.

“I do,” she said, more calmly than he’d expected.

“Once I tell all, there’s no going back.”

“I get that.”

“Where do you want me to start?” His ability, coming back to Seawolf Beach, finding out Jack had been murdered…

Anna gestured to the chair beside hers, which was close but not too close. “Start at the beginning.”

He did. The accident, Lizzie, trying to ignore the ghosts around him and failing, coming home. He even told her about Maude, Gerald, the pirate. He did not tell her about the woman and child who’d once haunted this house. That bit of information might spook her more than she already was, and it wasn’t relevant.

Anna might think they were alone, but they weren’t. Jack stood behind her chair, looking out instead of at either of the living persons present, obviously thinking hard. He stared at the empty street, either listening to the living or lost in thoughts of something else entirely. If it was possible for a ghost to be pensive, this was the expression Colt would expect.

It didn’t take long to share the basic details of how he’d come to be who and what he was. Funny, how twelve years of his life could be summed up in such a short time. That was true of everyone’s story, he supposed, but explaining the events of his life, recounting the past twelve years, should be more time consuming.

The tale could’ve been even shorter. I died a little. I came back seeing ghosts. I don’t know how it works, exactly. Every time I think I understand the rules they change. Big cities are horrifying. Even Seawolf Beach… on some days…

“I found something today,” he said, wondering if it was safe to include Anna. How could he not? She might know something, even if she didn’t understand that an old, seemingly irrelevant detail might be important. “I was cleaning some of the albums, getting them ready to sell, and in the 3 Doors Down sleeve…”

The porch shook. Jack no longer stared out at the street, he glared at Colt. For the first time since Colt had discovered the ghost of his old friend, Jack looked scared. More than scared, there was horror in his dark eyes, a new tenseness to his shoulders, a fisting of his ghostly hands.

Colt stayed quiet for a few seconds, waiting for more that didn’t come.

“That was Jack?” Anna asked.

Colt nodded, then he stood, his focus on the ghost. Something was wrong.

“What’s going on?” she whispered.