couple of
minutes.”
We chose a nearby table. Somehow, I’m
not sure how it happened, I ended up sitting next to Max instead of Paige. He
turned to me with a serious expression on his face, the kind I imagined a
psychiatrist might use. Which was pretty funny, coming from someone like him.
“Tell me what you saw.”
I made a vague wave gesture. “Just a
girl. Dressed in seventies clothes. She was standing by the lamp-post at the
bottom of the stairs outside there.”
“But you said you saw her in your room,”
Paige said.
“Yeah, I did. When you were pounding on
my door that morning. I opened my eyes and there she was, standing by my bed and
looking at me. When I blinked, she was gone. I thought it was just a dream. And
then I saw her here, and I didn’t know what to think.” Now I thought about it,
the blonde was so much like a ghost it gave me a case of the chills all over
again. But I didn’t believe in ghosts. I refused to believe. There was no way I
was going down the Aunt Jo Highway to Hell. That was not an option.
“God, that’s bizarre,” Paige said in
hushed tones.
“Sounds like a ghost to me,” Max said.
I looked at him warily. “A ghost? I don’t
believe in that crap.” And I never would. Unlike Jo, I didn’t want to. All that
woo-woo stuff was just too silly for me.
“I’m not saying it’s for sure or
anything,” he said evenly. “But it does sound like a classic ghost encounter.
How else would you explain it?”
Paige leaned across the table, seemingly
fascinated. I just raised my eyebrows.
“Coincidence,” I said. “She just
happened to look like the girl in my dream. I had no idea you believed in
ghosts.”
“I believe in all kinds of things,” he
said.
Very evasive. Did he believe in murder?
“I’ve never seen a ghost.” Paige sounded
jealous.
“It wasn’t a ghost,” I said. “Come on,
guys. It had to be a coincidence.”
“Then why did you run after her that
way?” Paige said. “If you really thought it was just coincidence, you wouldn’t
have tried so hard to catch up with her.”
I shrugged. “It was just a momentary
impulse. It didn’t mean anything.”
The only person I’d ever met—until Max—who
really believed in ghosts was Jo, and she wasn’t a person I wanted to emulate
in any way. She lived in some hazy, drug-addled underworld where her
imagination mixed freely with reality and gave her visions, not just of ghosts,
but of angels and demons and who knew what else. I didn’t want to go where Aunt
Jo lived. Ever.
I rubbed my arms, trying to calm the
shivers that had inexplicably taken over my body. “I’m not going to worry about
this. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“You might be right,” Max said.
I raised my brows at him. “Why do you
say that? I thought you believed.”
“Ghosts aren’t normally hostile. Most of
them are just hanging around. She might not want anything with you in
particular. Maybe she’s just going through some kind of routine.”
“Really? How do you know all that?” Not
that I was giving his nonsense any credence.
He shrugged, looking modest. “I’ve done
a lot of study on the subject.”
“You’re just full of surprises.” There
was too much bitterness in my voice. “I never expected you to be a ghost
hunter.”
“Oh, I don’t hunt them. I let them come
to me.”
Paige laughed. I merely looked at him.
Maybe he could tell that I knew what he’d done; I wasn’t doing enough to hide
my anger and confusion from him if I didn’t want him to guess.
Max met my gaze steadily for a moment
before looking to Paige. He knew. He had that look in his eyes, as if he knew
exactly what was going on in my head. I dropped my gaze and stared at the table
top, hoping he’d decide he was wrong. I should have smiled or said something
lighthearted. That would have cast more doubt than me being unable to even look
at him. By acting uptight around him, I was only confirming his suspicions.
Why did I even care
minutes.”
We chose a nearby table. Somehow, I’m
not sure how it happened, I ended up sitting next to Max instead of Paige. He
turned to me with a serious expression on his face, the kind I imagined a
psychiatrist might use. Which was pretty funny, coming from someone like him.
“Tell me what you saw.”
I made a vague wave gesture. “Just a
girl. Dressed in seventies clothes. She was standing by the lamp-post at the
bottom of the stairs outside there.”
“But you said you saw her in your room,”
Paige said.
“Yeah, I did. When you were pounding on
my door that morning. I opened my eyes and there she was, standing by my bed and
looking at me. When I blinked, she was gone. I thought it was just a dream. And
then I saw her here, and I didn’t know what to think.” Now I thought about it,
the blonde was so much like a ghost it gave me a case of the chills all over
again. But I didn’t believe in ghosts. I refused to believe. There was no way I
was going down the Aunt Jo Highway to Hell. That was not an option.
“God, that’s bizarre,” Paige said in
hushed tones.
“Sounds like a ghost to me,” Max said.
I looked at him warily. “A ghost? I don’t
believe in that crap.” And I never would. Unlike Jo, I didn’t want to. All that
woo-woo stuff was just too silly for me.
“I’m not saying it’s for sure or
anything,” he said evenly. “But it does sound like a classic ghost encounter.
How else would you explain it?”
Paige leaned across the table, seemingly
fascinated. I just raised my eyebrows.
“Coincidence,” I said. “She just
happened to look like the girl in my dream. I had no idea you believed in
ghosts.”
“I believe in all kinds of things,” he
said.
Very evasive. Did he believe in murder?
“I’ve never seen a ghost.” Paige sounded
jealous.
“It wasn’t a ghost,” I said. “Come on,
guys. It had to be a coincidence.”
“Then why did you run after her that
way?” Paige said. “If you really thought it was just coincidence, you wouldn’t
have tried so hard to catch up with her.”
I shrugged. “It was just a momentary
impulse. It didn’t mean anything.”
The only person I’d ever met—until Max—who
really believed in ghosts was Jo, and she wasn’t a person I wanted to emulate
in any way. She lived in some hazy, drug-addled underworld where her
imagination mixed freely with reality and gave her visions, not just of ghosts,
but of angels and demons and who knew what else. I didn’t want to go where Aunt
Jo lived. Ever.
I rubbed my arms, trying to calm the
shivers that had inexplicably taken over my body. “I’m not going to worry about
this. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“You might be right,” Max said.
I raised my brows at him. “Why do you
say that? I thought you believed.”
“Ghosts aren’t normally hostile. Most of
them are just hanging around. She might not want anything with you in
particular. Maybe she’s just going through some kind of routine.”
“Really? How do you know all that?” Not
that I was giving his nonsense any credence.
He shrugged, looking modest. “I’ve done
a lot of study on the subject.”
“You’re just full of surprises.” There
was too much bitterness in my voice. “I never expected you to be a ghost
hunter.”
“Oh, I don’t hunt them. I let them come
to me.”
Paige laughed. I merely looked at him.
Maybe he could tell that I knew what he’d done; I wasn’t doing enough to hide
my anger and confusion from him if I didn’t want him to guess.
Max met my gaze steadily for a moment
before looking to Paige. He knew. He had that look in his eyes, as if he knew
exactly what was going on in my head. I dropped my gaze and stared at the table
top, hoping he’d decide he was wrong. I should have smiled or said something
lighthearted. That would have cast more doubt than me being unable to even look
at him. By acting uptight around him, I was only confirming his suspicions.
Why did I even care
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