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Story: Devil in the Details
“No, really,” Delia said, even as she thought that no one so young…even a ghost…should be wearing that expression. “I’ve done this for a lot of other spirits. You just have to give yourself permission to cross over to the next life. This wasn’t your house, and there’s no real reason for you to stay here. You need to accept that this life is over, but something new and wonderful is waiting for you on the other side.”
A parting of lips, as if the spirit wanted to ask a question and then realized it would be impossible, given that she couldn’t speak.
However, Delia thought she understood what the ghost was trying to ask.
“I can’t tell you what’s there,” she said quietly. “I’m not the kind of psychic who can travel in that realm. But everything I’ve read and heard tells me it won’t be so different from this world, except that it will be easier to become your higher self, the person you were always meant to be.”
As she listened, the girl looked almost solid for a moment. Her big eyes — Delia thought they’d probably been blue when she was alive — widened even further, and a smile played around her mouth for a second.
And then she was gone.
“Very good,” said Ty Carter, who’d appeared out of nowhere and now stood a few feet away from the kitchen. Probably, he’d come down the hall while she was busy talking to the ghost, but it was still a little disconcerting that he’d been able to approach so quietly.
Delia turned back toward him. He stood there looking oh-so-casual, arms hanging loosely at his sides, something in his expression almost satisfied, as if he’d been hoping for this particular outcome.
“You heard all that?” she replied. She didn’t think she’d been speaking very loudly, but it wasn’t as if there was any other noise in the house to conceal the sound of her voice.
“Enough,” Tyler said. He came a little closer, although not so close that it felt anything like an invasion of her space. “I wanted to see what you’d be able to do with Becky.”
“That was her name?”
He nodded. “She came here for a slumber party and fell down the stairs in the middle of the night, and she’s been here ever since.” A pause, and he added, “Or rather, she was here up until a few minutes ago. But she was a quiet girl in life, and she was quiet in death. None of the families who lived in this house even knew it was haunted.”
Since this was what Delia had already pretty much pieced together, she only said, “But somehow you knew.”
“I did,” Ty replied, still with that almost Buddha-like calm surrounding him. “And I wanted to see how you would handle it.” He stopped there, expression now approving. “It seems your reputation is well-deserved. I also think you might discover you have talents you didn’t even know existed.”
She put her hands on her hips and sent him a flat stare. Okay, he’d been right about the spirit who’d inhabited this house for thirty-plus years, but she still wasn’t sure she liked hearing him make those sorts of pronouncements. “Such as?”
A smile that would have done the Mona Lisa proud. “Oh, I think I’ll leave you to figure that out for yourself.”
Before she could reply, he’d turned away from her and was walking swiftly down the hallway to the entryway. A moment later, she heard the door shut — not slammed, but closed firmly enough that it was clear there wasn’t much point going after him. Another second or two passed, and the sound of his motorcycle revving came clearly from the driveway.
Delia let out her breath and looked around. The house was utterly calm, and she knew no other spirits dwelled here.
All the same….
“Well, that was weird,” she said aloud, then headed for the front door so she could let herself out.
Chapter Twelve
An afternoon wandering the gaming floor at Caesar’s Palace told Caleb that his wins at the Desert Paradise poker tournament hadn’t been a fluke. Sure, he lost here and there, but his wins more than made up for that. Not huge wins — he wasn’t about to start attracting any real attention to himself, so manipulating the cards to pull in another quarter-mil or so definitely wasn’t in the plan — and yet he thought he was staying sharp enough.
Still, even though he was able to walk out of there with a fresh five grand in his pocket, he knew he had been just a wee bit distracted.
And that, he thought, was all Delia’s fault.
Okay, maybe that was pushing things a little. All the same, he hated the idea of her going out with that Aaron Sanchez guy. Even if he hadn’t been able to pull up any incriminating evidence about the man, Caleb still knew deep down there was something very wrong about him, and that he was obviously working with the equally dodgy Paul Reeves despite the lack of any real evidence to prove such a connection.
Caleb drove home in his new Mercedes, which had continued to work flawlessly. Either the demons hadn’t been able to determine what his new wheels looked like — or where he was living now — or they were holding back and plotting some new mischief that they planned to unleash at the worst possible time.
Considering his previous dealings with them, he thought both scenarios were equally likely.
Once he was inside, he found himself wishing he knew where Delia was meeting Aaron for drinks. Someplace very public and very crowded, he assumed, since Caleb knew she was smart enough to set up a first date in a venue where she’d be surrounded by people.
Unfortunately, there were hundreds of bars and restaurants in Las Vegas which fit that particular description.
Maybe he should hire a private detective of his own. Not Prudence, of course, but Caleb knew there were probably plenty of P.I.s operating in the area who’d be more than happy to take his money and dig up all sorts of dirt on Aaron Sanchez and Paul Reeves.
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