Page 70 of Haunted Ever After

“So what…what is all this stuff?”

Nan laid a hand on the water pistol. “Holy water. Salt, obviously. Sand. The candles are for protective energy. The poker is made of iron; some spirits react to iron, so it’s always good to have it around.”

“Right.” Cassie nodded dumbly. “So this is…”

“An exorcism,” Nan answered, as though it were the kind of thing she did every day of the week. Which, considering her line of work, she probably did. “We’re getting rid of Mr. Hawkins.”

Nan paused in her preparations and cocked her head, as though she were listening to something. Or someone. “He wants to know where your man is,” she said. “He says your man should put you in your place.” She sounded disgusted. “This guy. Real piece of work.” She pulled a pocketknife out of her bag and started peeling the plastic off the candles.

“My man?” But Cassie knew right away. Nick. The relief that swept through her made her sway on her feet, chasing away any lingering doubts about him. He’d been right after all. The way he acted, those things he said…he’d said it wasn’t him, and he was right. It was all C.S. Hawkins.

“He tried to tell you,” Nan said. “He came close once, when…” Her voice trailed off, lost in thought. “When the boy was here. The boy is weak. He needed to get you under control.”

Sophie let out a nervous giggle. “Mr. Hawkins doesn’t know Nick that well, then. That’s not like him at all.”

“Nick, huh?” Nan looked up. “The coffee shop boy?” The front door opened, and Libby brought a fireplace poker inside, laying it on the table next to the rest of Nan’s supplies.

“What about Nick?” Libby asked.

“Go get him too.” Nan made a shooing motion toward the door.

“No!” Cassie called out, but the front door was already banging shut behind Libby again. She turned to Nan. “You don’t need him for this.” Her voice shook; all she could remember was when Nick’s eyes changed. Those dark brown, angry eyes that didn’t belong in his face. She didn’t like seeing him that way. Mr. Hawkins’s problem was with her, not Nick. There was no need to put him through this.

But Nan shook her head. “He keeps saying he wants to talk to your man. Again. That means he’s talked to him before. If we’re going to get rid of him, we need to bring him to the surface. I think your boy there might be the key.” She ripped the plastic off the last candle, then started taking out small candleholders. She handed them all to Cassie. “Your living room is the biggest room in the house, we’ll set up in there. Start with the candles—one at each compass point. Then you girls can move the furniture out of the center of the room. We need space to work.”

Cassie decided not to argue. This was her very first exorcism, after all. At this point, all she could do was watch and follow directions. And trust that Nan would keep them safe.

Keep them all safe.

Twenty-Eight

It had been a busy day, especially for a Monday. Nick could tell that summer was here, from the uptick in tourists as much as from the rising temperatures that kept people inside and as close to the air conditioner as possible. Folks up north were trapped in their houses by snowstorms in the wintertime, but in Florida it was the opposite. Summer brought the most oppressive weather, though it inexplicably brought the tourists as well.

Well, they could have the outdoors this time of year. Let them rent the kayaks and stand-up paddleboards and slowly broil in the hot Florida sun. Nick wished them well and hoped they had enough sunscreen. (And enough bug spray, if they were heading to Cemetery Island.) The only outdoor activity on his docket was another day of fishing with Vince on Wednesday. But the plan was to head out well before sunrise and be back by midmorning, when the humidity really settled in like a wet blanket over your face.

Nick followed the last customer to the door, flipping the latch with satisfaction. It had been a long, busy breakfast rush followed by a slightly tamer but still hectic lunch crowd. It didn’t take long to set the seating area to rights, stacking chairs on tables so he could mop the whole floor later. But for now, he had banana bread to make for tomorrow.

The kitchen was sparkling clean; Ramon always left the place spotless after the lunch rush. Nick took a moment to enjoy the silence of the empty café and the tranquility of a perfectly clean kitchen, knowing he was about to mess it all up. Then of course he’d clean it. Again. There was something so comfortable about a routine that never changed; it was something he could rely on.

And in the back of his mind, there was Cassie. She wasn’t supposed to be part of his routine. No pressure, no strings, remember? Yet his favorite thing in the morning was her smile when she walked through his door. And his favorite thing in the evening was the way the sunset threw golden light in her hair, and the way she nestled into the hollow of his shoulder, fitting like a piece of him he hadn’t realized was missing.

Maybe once he was done here he could give her a call. See if she wanted to watch the sunset.

Of course, that was about all they could do, he remembered with not a little bit of irritation. He couldn’t go into her house, and with Elmer hanging out like a Peeping Tom, she couldn’t spend much time at his. Too bad he couldn’t hang a sock on the door, let Elmer know to fuck off for an evening…

But that gave Nick an idea. With the first batch of banana bread in the oven, he reached for the green spiral notebook on that upper shelf. He flipped through it till he found the photo of Elmer and his wife. The facade of the café looked mostly the same except for the neon ghosts Nick had added a couple years ago.

“Okay, Elmer. Let’s make a deal.” He tossed his phone to the counter before flipping over the first few pages. “I bake whatever you tell me to, and you give me a night alone with Cassie. Sound good?”

The answering buzz came immediately, sending his phone dancing across the counter. Pound cake. Lemon, if you have the stuff for it.

Nick’s smile lifted the right corner of his mouth. “Oh, I’ve got the stuff for it. You’re on.” It didn’t take long to find the recipe—it was pretty basic, like everything else in that notebook. But there was nothing wrong with sticking to the basics. He threw himself into baking, trying to take his mind off the fact that he hadn’t heard from Cassie since she left the café that morning, right before lunch. No pressure, no strings. They were both adults, with careers and habits formed long before they came into each other’s lives. He was cool with that.

But he also missed her. He’d meant to catch her before she left, ask when he could see her again. But she’d left right as things started to pick up at lunchtime. She was there when he took a customer’s order, but by the time he’d turned the order in to Ramon she was gone. It was fine, he told himself as he poured the cake batter into a set of loaf pans. It was her routine these days, since her laptop still wouldn’t hold a charge at home. Spend the morning at the café, charging up, then work at home in the afternoon. As he mixed up a batch of lemon icing to drizzle over the top of the pound cake, he reminded himself that he and Cassie were fine.

But no pressure and no strings also meant no progress. And while Nick had been fine with those kinds of relationships for as long as he could remember, he suddenly felt stifled. Not by Cassie, but by the lack of her. Things between them felt like they were stuck in first gear, and Nick suddenly wanted to put the hammer down. See how fast they could go.

Maybe they wouldn’t go far. She wasn’t committing to him the same way he wasn’t committing to her, and for all he knew she was still planning to sell the house and go back to Orlando.

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