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where she works,” I answered after swallowing. “Gillian appeared in my car at Wal-Mart, and she wanted to see her mother. So I took her there.”
    â€œMojo, if you compromise this case—”
    â€œI might solve it, you know.”
    â€œAs far as the sheriff’s office is concerned, it is solved.”
    â€œNot what you said on the news this morning, Detective Darroch.”
    â€œLook, Mojo, there’s an official investigation going on here, and it’s delicate.”
    I ignored that. I was in charge of the un official investigation. “Helen doesn’t think he did it. Vince, I mean. And neither does Gillian.”
    â€œHelen is out of her head with grief, and she doesn’t want to believe Erland’s guilty. As for Gillian—well, I hate to tell you this, Sheepshanks, but ghost testimony doesn’t hold up in court.”
    I glanced in Justin’s direction, hoping he’d left.
    He was still sitting on the couch, and he was listening. For all I knew, he could hear Tucker’s side of the conversation as well as mine.
    â€œIt’s not easy being a ghost,” I said.
    Tucker sighed again. He sighed a lot whenever we talked about my strange new talent for seeing dead people. I could only conclude that he wanted me for my body, not my mind.
    It was a sure bet it wasn’t my detective skills.
    â€œMoje,” Tucker said. “I’m not sleeping with Allison.”
    I would have replied, “And I’m not sleeping with you,” if Justin hadn’t been there, taking it all in.
    â€œWhatever,” I answered.
    â€œStay away from Helen Erland.”
    â€œNo. But thanks for the input.”
    â€œMojo—”
    I hung up.
    â€œI could find out if he’s sleeping with her,” Justin said.
    â€œJustin,” I answered, “don’t help.”
    He grinned. “It’s not like I don’t have time on my hands,” he reasoned. “I could help you solve the case, too.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œBy spying on people. I’m invisible to most of them, remember. That could come in very handy.”
    â€œI’ve got a better idea, Justin,” I said. “Go home.”
    â€œI can’t. My mom’s too sad. It’s a bummer.”
    â€œThat isn’t the home I was talking about.”
    â€œI have to wait for Pepper,” he told me decisively. “He’s old and he might get lost or something. It won’t be long, and I might as well make myself useful in the meantime.”
    My throat closed and my sinuses clogged up instantly.
    â€œDo you think they let dogs into heaven?” Justin asked. “Because I’m not going if they don’t.”
    I started to cry.
    Justin blipped out.
    Alive or dead, men can’t stand tears.
    Â 
    J OLIE ARRIVED while I was rooting through the cupboards looking for something that could reasonably be expected to morph into lunch.
    â€œYou look terrible,” she said after letting herself in.
    â€œDo you think dogs are allowed in heaven?” I asked.
    â€œSit down,” Jolie ordered. “You’re a train wreck.”
    I slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.
    Jolie washed her hands at the sink—a good thing, since she’d probably been dropping pieces of Alex Pennington into evidence bags all morning—and opened a can of soup. “Greer’s not back from shopping yet?” she asked, getting out a saucepan.
    I shook my head.
    â€œIt will be interesting to see how she reacts to the news,” Jolie said, plopping the contents of the soup can into the saucepan. “Do you ever buy groceries?”
    I ignored the grocery gibe. Jolie cooked. It made sense that she had a fixation with supermarkets. To me, they were just places where I ran into crazy stalkers and dead people. “Greer,” I said evenly, “did not riddle Alex with bullets and leave him to rot in the desert.”
    â€œDon’t be