Page 62 of Installment Immortality

“Elsie, maybe this isn’t a great time for—”

“Got her.” She turned the phone toward me, looking smug. “Artie’s not the only one who understands how technology works. I was always better at social media. Mom made me show her every new thing that came along, so she could monitor where the cryptid communities were moving. It’s pretty interesting stuff, and you can tell when a platform’s going to break big by when the bogeymen start setting up there. Anyway, most people aren’t as good at it as I am, so they’re not prepared to hide their tracks.”

She shoved the phone closer to me. I looked at the screen, and there was a picture of Chloe Cunningham flashing a cheery V in front of the turtle fountain, the sun bright behind her, a wide grin on her face. The caption read:Spicy statuary here in the States! Love and kisses (not from the turtle). #adventures #tourism #massachusetts

“We already know she’s in town,” I said. “I saw her.”

“Yeah, but now we know she didn’t think to lock her Insta, and I can keep an eye on her. Learn more about her. Scroll back and see what kind of person she is.”

“Careful,” I cautioned. “She’s the kind of person who carries a spirit jar in hopes of catching the ghost of a child. Anything else is incidental.”

“Still, know thine enemy, right?”

“Right,” I said. “Arthur’s next door, if you want to come and plan next steps with us.”

“I think I can handle that,” she said, sliding off the bed.

Since I was walking with someone who wasn’t dead, I followedher to the door and let her open it before stepping into the hall. We left the room—

—and nearly ran right into Amelia, who was standing outside, looking like she was preparing herself to knock. She blinked and took a step back, clearly confused.

“Hi,” said Elsie, shutting the door behind us. “Did you need something?”

“Just your number,” said Amelia. “How am I supposed to send you suggestive text messages if I don’t have your number?”

“You’re not,” said Elsie. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea at dinner, but I’m not looking for anything serious.”

“Did I sayIwas?” asked Amelia. “A few teasing texts do not a relationship make.”

“I know,” said Elsie. “I really am sorry. I need to go and talk to my brother.”

She ducked her head as she pushed between us, heading to Arthur’s room. I refocused on Amelia.

“We didn’t really get to talk much before,” I said. “Elsie’s a grownup, but she knows what she wants and what she has the time for, and if she says no, she means no. I appreciate you picking up on how awesome she is, though.”

“If she thinks this is about her pheromones, you can tell her she’s wrong—pleasetell her she’s wrong,” said Amelia. “I had a cold all last week, I’ve got so much Vicks VapoRub on my chest and sternum that I won’t be able to smell anything else for the rest of the year. It’s all menthol and regret. So she doesn’t need to worry about influencing me.”

“I don’t think that’s her concern, but I’ll pass it along,” I said.

“I really appreciate it.”

“Okay, two things before I go. First, you realize I’m her babysitter, right? I’m not her sister or her friend, I’m her dead babysitter who tries to keep her from getting into the kind of trouble people don’t get out of while they’re still alive.”

“I know that.” Amelia frowned. “You think I don’t know a ghost when I see one? Please. Hockomock Swamp Beasties aren’t as big on lines between the living and the dead as humans tend to be. One of my uncles has been married to his current wife for twenty years, and she died nineteen years ago. They just figured it was a bump in the road and kept on going about their business. It works for them.”

“Huh.” Mixed marriages like that aren’t unheard-of, but they don’t tend to work out in the long run. Something about one partner remaining exactly the same while the other ages and grows tends to put a damper on true intimacy.

“What was the second thing?”

“The— Oh.” I shrugged. “We’re here for a reason, and the job has to come first, for all three of us. If Elsie thinks she doesn’t have the time for something meaningful right now, she’s probably right, and it’s less about her pheromones than it is trying to be fair to you. If you really want to get to know her better, wait until we’ve done what we came here to do.”

“What are you here to do?”

I shrugged. “Save the world,” I said, and walked through the wall into Arthur’s room, leaving her behind.

Fifteen

“Don’t put that in your mouth, young lady. You have no idea where it’s been.”

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