Page 21 of The Grave Robber

“Vigil,” I countered, relisting it and hoping he’d press thebuy it nowbutton.

“Fine,” he said, caving. “Just be careful. And, please, getto the bottom of this before either of you gets killed.”

I pointed a finger pistol at him and winked. “That’s the plan,Stan.”

“And don’t call me Stan!” he shouted as I walked out.

Putting on my helmet proved far more painful than I everimagined it would, and the real possibility of a subdural hematoma—I’d hadseveral in my life—had me worried. Not, like, bad, but there was definitely atinge of concern. Getting into my leather jacket was just as irksome. I wouldreally feel that truck tomorrow.

As I drove down deserted streets and through shadowy treesto the marina, I thought of a hundred different scenarios that might explainthe man in Halle’s last moment. Could he be a departed? Yes. Since I could seethe departed even in pictures and on film, he very well could be.

They were as plain to me as anything else in the shot,though their coloring was a little off and their images a little blurry. Butthe departed handling objects in the physical world was another story. Fewcould perform such tricks, and when they did, they usually couldn’t do it forlong. A departed being able to hold a straight razor and use it to cut someone’swrists was very unlikely.

Could it have been a reflection off a television or acomputer? Absolutely. A tablet? Yes, to all three. But what were the odds Hallewould have slit wrists while a movie played in the background that justhappened to have a man holding a straight razor?

I pulled into the marina and found the slip Halle wastemporarily renting. According to Jason, she usually moored off her father’sproperty, but the dock had been damaged in a recent storm so she’d had to moveto the marina while Donald had it repaired.

The houseboat, a gorgeous single-story that probably costmore than my life, barely fit into the slip. All the lights were out save anight-light in the kitchen. I stepped onto the boat and knocked on the door offa small outdoor patio, but Halle didn’t answer. Of course, she didn’t. Onlyrock stars and burglars were awake at this time of night.

I started to leave when the cloth panel on the door movedaside, and a pale face peered out at me.

“Wh–what are you doing here?” she asked, her gaze slidingpast me. Checking to see if I’d brought a friend?

I shrugged. “I owe you, and I pay my debts.”

“What?” She seemed to panic, which confused me. Though inher defense, confusing me wasn’t that hard to do. “You don’t owe me anything.”Her frantic gaze darted around like a hummingbird caught in a glass jar. Whenshe finished scanning the exterior, she looked over each of her slendershoulders then back again.

Had I caught her with someone? “Look, if you have company…”

“What? No.” She straightened, unlocked the door, and crackedit open. “I don’t have company. I just don’t understand why you’re here. In themiddle of the night.”

“And here I thought we were besties.”

“Not without pizza, we aren’t.”

I laughed. “I’ll remember that next time.”

She opened the door wider and gestured me inside. “Please, do.”

Her place was cool. Modern yet chic. Lots of blues and grayswith wood floors and stainless fixtures. But the most appealing aspect of thewhole setup was her tiny, moss green terrycloth robe that stopped mid-thigh.And her legs were no joke. Slender, shapely and lightly tinted by the sun.

She closed the door and leaned back against it. “When yousay you owe me…?”

“I’m here to see if something’s haunting you.”

“I was afraid of that.”

I leaned a hip against a granite countertop. “You keepfighting me on this. Is there a reason?”

“No,” she said, seeming offended. “It’s just…I mean, Iwouldn’t fight you if you really can talk to ghosts.”

“We’re back toif?”

“Oh-em-gee,” Aunt Lil said, twirling in the middle ofHalle’s small kitchen, her floral tent ballooning around her. “I’m moving in.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “She already has a ghost,Aunt Lil. She doesn’t need another one.”

“But this place is amazing.”

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