Page 17 of The Accidental Ghost

“Usually?” she asked. “Usually what?”

“Usually, one of my afterlife contacts or another pops up with some kind of information about a new ghost.”

Her eyebrow lifted. God, this was all so absurd. “You have ghostly contacts?”

He gave her an ironic smile. “I do. There are plenty of ghosts who don’t cross over.”

Ralph’s eyes went wide as she looked around. “So they just do what I did and hover…forever?”

He shrugged. “Some do. They mean no harm, and they won’t hurt you. They’re a pretty chatty bunch. But they all appear to be on vacation at the moment.”

Her laugh was dry. “And that means what for me? Maybe they just don’t like me? Maybe they don’t want someone new at the lunch table in the ghost cafeteria.”

Shamus chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s not what that means. Your ghostly properties seem to be dormant right now, but they’ll crop up. They always do. But I don’t think we’ll find the answer here in your apartment. Though, sometimes being among your things can help you to finish your journey.”

Finish her journey…

“That went over like a lead balloon, huh? Because I’m still here.”

Shamus put a hand on her shoulder, spreading warmth throughout her body. “Do you feel a pull at all?”

Confused, Ralph asked, “A pull?”

“As in something pulling you away—I’ve heard it described as a tug on your soul.”

Ah. Now she understood. “No. Nothing.”

Nina grunted, breaking her concentration. “By the way, did I mention how fucking refreshing it is not to have to explain to you what we are? That I didn’t have to break out my fangs and flash them around was kinda nice. I could get used to this shit. I’m so used to all the crying and denying and ‘why me,’ I almost forgot to say thanks. You’ve been like a fucking dream compared to most.”

“Glad I could make things easier. I aim to please,” she joked, looking down at her feet and her black ballet slippers.

“Let’s take a swing downstairs to your store. Maybe something there will spark a memory that helps you move on,” Shamus suggested.

She took one last look at her home—her life—and nodded.

But her heart cried for what once was.

And the rest of her feared what would be.

She led the women and Shamus toward the other door in her apartment off her kitchen that led to the back stairs that would take them to the alley and the back door of her shop. There was more yellow crime scene tape Nina lifted for them as she clung to Blanche, before they ducked under it and stepped over the threshold to head down.

Nina pushed her way past them when they reached the alley, suddenly holding up a finger as she stopped short in front of the metal exit door of her shop, covered in yet more crime scene tape.

“Somebody’s fucking in there,” she hissed.

They all stood stock still. Ralph froze mid-air and cocked an ear.

Then there was a loud bang, followed by the clanging of the wind chimes she’d hung in the children’s area. Then someone yelled, “Goddammit!”

Chapter

Six

Marty grabbed Blanche from Nina and pointed down the alley toward the sidewalk and the SUV. “I’ll tuck Blanche in. You guys go. Be with you in a jiffy.”

Nina didn’t hesitate, she reached over the police tape and rammed the door open, eliciting a yelp of fright from someone Shamus couldn’t see.

But Ralph saw whoever it was. She leaned into him and whispered, “That’s my best friend, Hazel!”

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