Page 37 of Death Raiser

She had to be an older ghost if she no longer remembered her identity, but her clothes appeared contemporary, not dated. They looked like something I’d throw on to run to the store on my day off, hang out with friends, or go for a walk along the beach.

“Do you know what happened?” I asked. “Do you know why you’re here?”

The ghost’s appearance flickered. “A car. I remember a car, and pain, and…loss.”

That would certainly explain the injuries. “Were you in the vehicle?”

“No…no, I was waiting. I was waiting for someone…someone I loved.” She flickered again. “Mason.”

I frowned. That wasn’t a lot to go on, but at least I could search for pedestrian fatalities at this intersection.

“Where is she?” Cathy ran out of the building. “Where did she go?”

I jumped, surprised. Why the hell was my client running out on the street at two in the morning?

The ghost glanced between Cathy and me and disappeared. Just poof. Like that. Gone.

Cathy reached my side of the road and came to a stop a few feet away from me. “I saw you speaking to her before she disappeared. Did you get anything?” she asked, panting.

I swallowed my irritation. I probably would’ve gotten a lot more had Cathy not interrupted us but pointing that out right now wouldn’t change anything.

Cathy waited expectantly.

“Not enough,” I answered. “But I’ll do some digging and find out more if you’d like.”

Cathy bobbed her head. She’d already signed a contract to pay my hourly fee so she knew what she was getting into. At least financially. Denise made the money side of things very clear.

“If you had her bones, could you do more?”

I nodded. “I'll make some calls.”

Cathy thanked me and returned to the building. Once she was out of sight, I pulled out my phone and dialled Kang.

“What?” His tone was raspy, his voice clipped. He sounded both pissed off and tired—so basically, he sounded like his normal self. He definitely didn’t sound surprised to get a call from me at two in the morning.

Nor was I shocked he answered the phone despite the time. He worked hours just as ridiculous as mine. “Your phone manners are atrocious.”

“I’m in the middle of a case, Lark,” he said, his voice dropped lower. “You can teach me manners later.”

A smile tugged on my lips. “I bet you’d like that.”

“Did you phone to flirt with me or is there another reason for your call?”

“First of all, if you think that’s flirting, I have more than manners to teach you, but second, yes. I’m calling for a different reason. Can you pull up car accidents that occurred at a specific intersection that resulted in the fatality of a young, East Asian woman? A man named Mason may have been involved and it may have occurred on the twentieth of the month. Probably at 2 am.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“It’s for a client.” I rambled off the street names of the intersection.

“I can’t access records without just cause or a case number.”

“Make one then. This is in the public’s best interest. There’s a disproportionately higher incidence of accidents occurring at this location, and I believe a ghost is responsible.”

“You’re there right now?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“And your beliefs are based on what?” He sighed, loudly. “No. Don’t answer that. Let me guess. You’ve already located the ghost and spoken with her. Probably alone.”

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