Page 15 of Crazy Spooky Love

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“I don’t care which of you clears it, but I’m only paying one of you, and no one gets a penny until I see results.” He pauses and pulls a key from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Here. Back door.”

I hold in a tinysqueeof triumph as he jabs it out at me, and then give a tiny sigh of regret as he pulls out a second key with a handwritten “front door” label dangling from it and hands it to Leo.

“Do your worst, both of you. Winner takes all. Just get a sodding move on, because every extra day this farce drags on costs me a bloody arm and a leg.”

Marina and I jostle each other out of his way as he stamps off, andLeo steps outside the doorway to stand beside me on the garden path.

“Uncle Isaac said to say ‘bye,’ ” he calls after Scarborough, who halts momentarily as if considering his response before striding to the safety of his car without glancing back.

“Liar,” I murmur, because we both know that what Isaac had actually said was something far more inflammatory.

He doesn’t denyit.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“My job.”

“Since when?” he scoffs. “Because as far as I recall, your family business mostly revolves around relaying dullsville messages about missing wedding rings or putting the bins out.”

I bristle at his dismissal of my mother and Gran’s work at Blithe Spirits. Missing wedding rings and reminders about bin duties may not be earth-shattering things to everyone, but to the one person the message is intended for it can mean everything. It can mean that even though the person you love isn’t there anymore, they still love and care for you just as they always did. It shows that they know that you’re crying yourself to sleep at night because you can’t find your precious wedding ring, or that you forgot to put the bins out last week because you’re not used to having to do everything yourself. These simple things are gold dust, and as one of the few other people I know who can see ghosts, Leo Dark should know that better than most. I think about ripping into him and then decide to ignore it for now. No way am I going to let Leo Dark rile me on my first day of business, far better to rile him instead.

“You just keep farting about on TV in your cape, Leo, while I resolve this case right under your nose.” I pocket my precious back door key and smile brightly, then link arms with Marina and walk down the path, leaving him there to stew in his own juices.

“Sashay,” Marina hisses. “Make him scared of us!”

“I don’t know how to,” I shoot out of the side of my mouth.

It’s all very well for her to say; she probably sashayed out of hermother’s womb. I give my hips a half-hearted wiggle, and I can’t be certain, but I think I hear Leo laugh. We’re on the street now, approaching the sanctuary that is Babs.

“You’ve got the keys,” I say, aware that Leo’s still watching us. Marina digs around in her handbag and pulls them out, pointing them toward Babs to click the nonexistent central locking button before handing them tome.

“Central locking’s on the blink again.”

I shove the key in the door and slide it back. “Put it on the list of things Arthur can look at.” We clamber in, but before I get a chance to close the door, Leo jogs up and leans in, his face a picture of relaxed mirth.

“I don’t believe it. You actually bought the Mystery Machine.”

“Piss off.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. “Babs is a vintage classic.”

“Babs?” If one tiny word has ever been loaded with more derision, I have yet to hear it uttered.

Marina, shotgun position beside me, leans across my lap and smacks one of our brand-new business cards against his chest, and then returns to her spot, calmly smoothing her hair.

Leo raises his eyebrows as he reads the card, turning it over to look at the back.

“The Girls’ Ghost-Busting Agency? Isn’t it a bit…” He shrugs, that resident mocking grin on his smug face. “Scooby-Doo?”

“Just quit with theScooby-Dooreferences, okay?”

Leo pockets my business card in his shirt as the Barbie twins titter and lurk around behind him, arm in arm. I clutch onto the steering wheel for dear life and lean horizontally out of the van so I can see them properly.

“Watch your backs, ladies, he’ll drop you like a hot potato when he decides you’re no longer any use to him. A hot potato with cheese on. The stretchy kind that burns your chin and scars you forever.”

Marina tugs my sleeve to stop me speaking, and I haul myself back inside the van and slide the door across with a satisfying slam asI gun the engine, much to Babs’s startled surprise and Leo’s amusement. Marina menacingly fires an imaginary pistol at Leo with her fingers and blows on the smoking barrel as we lurch away, leaving all three of them staring after us in the wing mirror.

As we take the corner, she hangs onto the handle above her door and laughs under her breath.

“Burns your chin?”