Page 4 of Ghostlighted
Taryn ignored me, still directing her comments toward Avi’s general location. “I made sure that she negotiated to send all the editor’s notes here to Maz.”
“Me? Why?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dense, Maz. So Avi can do the edits, of course. Nobody has to know they’re being done by a ghost.”
“But I can’t interact with a computer,” Avi said. “Remember last week when I crashed your laptop?”
I winced. “Right.” That had been a near disaster, but I’d only lost an hour or so of work on those lousy help files, so it could definitely have been worse. “Maybe you could use dictation software or something.”
Avi dipped his chin and glared at me over his glasses. “Exactly how would I do that, Maz? You’re the only person, place, or thing who can hear my voice.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess that would be a problem. Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”
“And this”—Taryn flourished the smaller envelope and waggled it in the air until I took it—“is for you.” She grabbed her bag. “Gotta go.” She turned and power-walked out of the room.
I opened the envelope warily and peeked inside. My eyes widened, and I threw it onto the counter where it skidded to the edge and fell to the floor.
“Taryn!” I stormed out of the kitchen and planted myself in the family room just as she reached the front door. “Why thehelldid you just hand me a check for a hundred and twenty-five grand?”
Chapter Two
Taryn’s hand fell from the doorknob, and she turned with a sigh. “Maz Amani, you are the hardest person in the world to give money to. Anybody else would be thrilled.”
“I bet anybody else would still want to know what the money was for.”
“You’d be surprised. Most would just take it and run.” She moved to the bottom of the staircase and set her bag on the bottom step. “Do you remember when we first met?”
“Of course.
“The day after you moved in, we sat on these stairs and you asked me whether Oren’s estate included any cash. At that time, because of the lawsuits, it didn’t. Now the lawsuits are settled, so why are you hesitant to take the proceeds?”
“Because before, I didn’t know Avi was here. It feels wrong to use money that he earned on things that have nothing to do with him.”
“Hmmm.” Her eyes flicked to the family room door and the kitchen archway beyond. “Is Avi nearby?”
“Still in the kitchen, as far as I know. He didn’t follow me, anyway.”
With a tiny nod, she beckoned me forward, lowering her voice. “Did anyone tell you the results of Carson’s arrest?”
“I didn’t ask.” Having somebody wave a gun in your face was best forgotten as soon as possible.
She laid a hand on my arm, but focused on my shoulder instead of my face. “Carson took a plea.”
“A plea,” I said woodenly. “Great.”
“He got the maximum jail time for the copyright infringement and the threat with a deadly weapon charges. Five years each, to be served consecutively.”
“He should have been convicted for murdering Avi,” I muttered.
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry about that, but the DA was afraid the jury wouldn’t buy causality between the attack and Avi’s death.” She pursed her lips and exhaled. “The publisher pushed for the maximum fine on the copyright case and got it. They kept half, because of course they did, but Avi’s contract specified a 50% share of any incidental income accrued from his work, hence your check.”
I frowned down at her. “Carson might have been a real estate agent, but you can’t tell me he had two hundred and fifty thousand dollars just lying around.”
She shrugged. “He had to liquidate most of his assets, which he wasn’t happy about. But if he hadn’t agreed, the DA threatened to put Avi’s assault back on the table, although without the murder charge because of said causality issue.”
I huffed out a breath. “I will never understand the legal system.”
“What can I say? Legal doesn’t always equate to fair.” She patted my arm once and picked up her bag. “Are you going to cash that check?”
