Page 46 of Ghostridden
His smile was tentative, but the napkins stopped trying to stage an escape. “I’d like that.”
“So.” I curled my hands around my teacup. “Can you tell me about why you think Oren might be haunting the place, too? Or haunting you?” Uh oh. More napkin fluttering. “But only if you want to,” I said hurriedly. “Otherwise, we can just tag all the stuff you’d like to move up to the attic and call it a day.”
“No, I want to tell you. I want tounderstand.” Another lift and drop of his shoulders, which I think were broader than they looked under his oversized cardigan. “We… we fought.”
My fingers tensed on the china, and I carefully set it aside so I wouldn’t be tempted to throw it. “Did he—” I swallowed, wrestling with that domestic violence trigger again. From all I’dheard about Oren, I didn’t think he was an abuser, but I had to ask. “Did he hurt you?Hityou?”
“No! Never! I didn’t mean— That’s not—” He ran his hands through his hair and I noted that while he didn’t always affect the real world—the cake, for instance—his transparent fingers disarranged his transparent hair, no problem. Maybe it was an etheric frequency thing? Who knew?
“Oren was in Toronto for a project. Had been for two months while the renovations were completed here, which, I have to admit, I was a little angry about. I mean, no, he’d done his part of the work with the design. The construction crew was responsible for executing it. But I missed him. And it wasourhouse, now. I’d put him on the deed before we started the work. And he’d known about the party for weeks. But he told me he couldn’t make it. That he had to stay with the Toronto project until it was completed, and it would be at least another two weeks. I… yelled at him.” His gaze dropped, and one napkin escaped. I flattened it to the table with my palm. “I told him I wouldn’t reschedule the party. If he couldn’t be bothered to show up, he could read about the good time we all had inBoos News. And then I hung up on him.”
I winced. I knew all about angry words spoken in the heat of the moment, and the regrets that followed. “Was that the last time you spoke?”
“No. He gave me a little time to cool off and then he called me back right before I went to bed. He told me that he…” His voice choked, and he had to swallow. “That he understood. That he was sorry. But that he promised to make it up to me when he got home. He had a surprise for me, he said, and made me promise.”
“Promise what?”
Avi lifted his chin to gaze at me, his expression bleak. “I promised to wait for him until he got home.” The napkinsflapped wildly. “I waited. I kept my promise. When will he keep his?”
The napkins made a break for it, and this time I didn’t stop them.
After I let Avi express his feelings with paper goods, he calmed down, and we made a tour of the house so he could tag the things he wanted for his attic retreat. There were remarkably few things, and he seemed confused that some things he wanted weren’t where he expected, although we usually found them elsewhere.
After we finished, he said good night to me outside the door of the main suite and vanished, so I took the rest of the evening to actually move into my room—put away my clothes, stow my toiletries in the bathroom, make the bed with the sheets I’d washed yesterday.
And let me tell you, a night on the most comfortable mattress I’d ever slept in made a huge difference in both my physical and mental wellbeing. I awoke early, totally refreshed, and had the rest of Sofia’s cake for breakfast.
Hey. Don’t judge until you’ve tried it.
I didn’t see Avi before I left, and although we’d reached anunderstanding, I still dropped Gil off with Sofia, because until we figured out who Avi had detected, I wasn’t willing to leave Gil trapped in there. While Avi could stuff keyholes with sawdust, he couldn’t open the door to free Gil from any danger in the house, and I wouldn’t want him wandering the neighborhood, anyway.
I got to the Manor at seven, apparently beating Saul to work since my Civic was the only car in the lot. I was glad for the extra uninterrupted time, because this morning, I had a second agenda, a personal one.
Thaddeus Richdale had spent practically his whole life immersed in his search for the supernatural. There must be something in his papers that detailed his actions and their results. Something I could use to understand what was going on with Avi.
I’d just started cataloging the first crate and its contents when my phone beeped. I wiped my dusty hands off on my jeans—too bad the Manor didn’t have a spectral dust collection service like my house did, because it could really use it—and retrieved my phone from my jacket pocket.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Maz. It’s Taryn. The delivery guys are ten minutes out from your place.”
“Shoot. I’m not there. I came in to work early, but I can head back now.”
She chuckled. “Don’t stress. They’ll no doubt stop in at Isaksen’s on their way, so I’m sure they’ll give you a few minutes’ grace.”
“Thanks, Taryn. I won’t keep them waiting long.”
I made sure to mark my place in the current dusty crate, and then ran back down to the car to head home. When I got there, Ricky was just stepping out of Sofia’s door. He waved and headed over to meet me on my lawn.
“Morning,” he said with a grin. “You’re on the move early.”
“Yeah. I’ve already been to work, but the delivery guys are on their way with Oren’s effects, so I need to let them in.”
“You know, if it’s the guys from Transitions, I could probably get them to help me move Avi’s things upstairs.” He shrugged, tucking his thumbs in his jeans pockets. “If you’re ready for that, I mean.”
“We are, actually. We tagged everything he wanted last night. Look for the big neon orange dots.” I grinned as a big panel truck withTransitions Transportationstenciled on the side turned down the street. “And it looks like you’ve got your muscle, too.”
“Fantastic. We’ll get this settled in no time.”
