Page 5 of Shiver Me Timbers

What Iwantis five minutes’ peace away from these feelings; these corrosive cravings that keep chewing me up from the inside. I want to look at Ellie and seejusta business partner.JustPete’s grown daughter.Justa lodger. Not my dream woman in a weird beaded shawl.

“Falafel sounds good,” I rasp.

Fat chance of that.

Three

Ellie

“I’ve got it. This is gonna blow your tiny minds.”

My friend Penny barges into the kitchen, her arms laden with folded maps and old leather bound books. Her face is flushed, and her brown hair is tied in a messy topknot.

Penny’s husband Arthur follows her inside, arms wrapped around a sleeping newborn baby in a sling, smiling apologetically. There’s nothing visible of the baby except a tuft of black hair.

Duncan pushes back his seat and strides to the coffee maker, wordlessly setting it up. Bless him, but he never complains when I stuff his house full of my friends—though by this point, they’re his friends too, despite his best surly efforts. How did he ever get close with my dad when all he ever does is grunt?

“What have you found?” I ask.

We met Penny and Arthur six months ago when they came on one of our tours—but they weren’t the usual wide-eyed type. Arthur’s a famous horror author with gothic black hair and wire-framed glasses, used to doing field research in spooky locations. And Penny…

Well, Penny grew up in Belladonna Bay, but somehow made it into her twenties without ever seeing a ghost. By the time it happened for her, she wasdesperate.And by desperate, I mean she’d researched the paranormal phenomena in this area like a police detective. She’s a freaking gold mine.

“Have you ever heard of the Wailing Woman?” Arthur asks.

“Ellie sings in the shower sometimes,” Duncan mutters at the coffee cups.

“No.” I roll my eyes at Duncan’s back. His shoulder blades shift beneath his gray shirt as he makes the drinks, the coffee spoon clinking against china. “Who is that?”

“Nobody knows for sure.” Penny unfolds a crumbly old paper map, spreading it over the kitchen table. It’s the Belladonna Bay coastline, though the hand-drawn town is much smaller. “But there are stories.”

Um. There are? I thought we’d heard of every single ghost within a five mile radius. “What stories?”

“Oh my god.” Penny’s glare could burn wood to ash. She plants both fists on the table and looms over it like a furious, bedraggled commander. “How many times do I have to tell you, Ellie May? Listen to the goddamnHot & Hauntedpodcast. It’s the best thing ever. The only paranormal podcast worth listening to. But besides that, she’s doing a whole season on Belladonna Bay right now.”

“She is?”

“Mhm.”

“She’shere? And she’s a big deal?”

“Yes.”

I ponder that for a moment, then turn to Duncan. He’s already watching me, even as he hands a coffee cup to Arthur. “Maybe we should send her free tickets to the tour.”

He nods. “Good idea.”

But Penny slaps her forehead. “Nooo! Stop ruining this, you two! Stop making it some boring businessy thing!”

“We’re boring businessy people,” Duncan says, handing me a mug.

Penny smacks the table. “You arenot. I’ve been on your freaking tour. You two—you’re serious about it. Your tour is legit. You’re romantics, and you can’t hide it!”

Suddenly Duncan and I will look anywhere except at each other. I sip my coffee too fast, wincing as it burns my tongue, and stare around the kitchen. It’s neat and scrubbed clean, with takeout menus pinned to the refrigerator and a fresh bouquet of daisies on the island counter. The blinds are butter yellow.

“Just listen to the Wailing Woman episode,” Arthur tells me, keeping the peace. He looks like a history professor in his button-down red shirt and dark pants, slender and scholarly, but when he tugs Penny close, she melts into his side with a sigh and offers me an apologetic smile. Just a few words from her husband, and all that agitation is gone. They both stroke their baby’s back, murmuring sweet nothings.

It’s painful to witness. Because… I want that.

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