Page 27 of Ghost Business (Boneyard Key #2)

Cassie tried a couple more times to turn her dinner with Tristan into a double date, so Sophie had to take evasive action.

Sorry, I can’t , she texted on Tuesday afternoon.

Theo and I are meeting up to compare research notes.

Then she texted Theo to see if he was free Wednesday evening to compare research notes.

Thankfully, he didn’t make her a liar. Even more thankfully, on Wednesday evening he didn’t want to talk about hurricanes. Or kisses.

“We’ve taken a lot of notes over the last few months,” he said by way of greeting when she showed up at Boneyard Books with a massive bag of Chinese takeout.

“You’re not wrong.” She followed him to the history museum in the back, where his laptop and a pile of notes were already set up on the card table by the filing cabinets.

“After I got your text yesterday I took the liberty of putting everything that we’ve already compiled into some semblance of order.” He moved a few framed photographs off a glass-enclosed display of fishing equipment, making a space for Sophie to unpack the food.

“Oh, really?” She set her messenger bag in the seat across from his, getting out her own laptop.

He nodded, reaching for the orange chicken. “It’s set up in a shared document. I sent you a link.”

“Perfect.” Another shared document? Sophie was getting good at those.

She settled in front of her laptop with the container of chicken lo mein—why order anything else, honestly?

—and accessed the document. It was longer than she expected it to be; all these weeks chipping away at one story after another, one location after another, had resulted in a substantial document when it was all put together.

“Theo, I don’t want to alarm you, but I think we’ve got a book here.”

“I know.” His smile was almost, but not quite, hidden by a bite of fried rice.

He chewed carefully and swallowed before he continued.

“I took a quick stab at organizing it into sections, mostly based geographically. But feel free to move things around. We want to tell a cohesive story, but also make it entertaining.”

“And that’s what I do, right?” She shot him a smile across the table as she scrolled, speed-reading through notes she’d already read. But an unfamiliar paragraph made her stop and scroll back for a closer read. “You got the stuff from Eternal Rest in here!”

“I did, finally. Mrs.Erikson took her sweet time getting me her documentation, but once she did it was fascinating. Did you see the part yet about the phantom housekeeper, who leaves extra toilet paper outside everyone’s doors?”

“I bet that came in handy in the early days of the pandemic.” Sophie grinned at Theo’s snort of a response. “Oh, I forgot to tell you that Mystic Crystals is a dead end. It’s just Aura’s triple-great-grandmother serving as a spirit guide for whatever descendant is doing psychic readings.”

“Hmm. Could be worth a mention?”

Sophie shook her head. “I think they want to stay out of it.”

“Fair enough. But you know…” Theo nudged the takeout carton aside and rested his elbows on the table. “It’s a closer location than Eternal Rest. You could maybe add it to your tour.”

“Probably not the best idea.” Sophie fought back a laugh, thinking about Aura and her bedsheet and her green light bulb.

“How’s all that going, by the way? I’d heard that you and Tristan made some kind of…arrangement?”

“What?” Sophie asked sharply. “What do you mean?” He’d been there last Friday at Poltergeist Pizza. Had he picked up on the vibe that Cassie wouldn’t shut up about?

“This whole…I don’t know. What are you calling it?

” He gestured with his chopsticks while Sophie tried not to panic.

Because what did you call one kiss that you immediately ran away from?

“Contest,” Theo finally said, and Sophie almost sagged with relief.

He wasn’t talking about The Vibe. He was talking about the potential loss of her passion project. Much better.

She huffed out a laugh she didn’t feel, trying to cover her racing heart. “I guess you could call it that.” She closed her laptop, folding her arms over it. “It’s all very ‘may the best businessperson win.’ I just need to be the best businessperson by October first.”

“Ah.” Theo waved an unconcerned hand. “You’ll be fine, then.”

She tilted her head. “You think so?”

“Definitely. Your tour is better.”

“Really.” Now, that was something she never thought she’d hear Theo say. A slow smile spread on her face. “Tell me more.”

He rolled his eyes, but there must have been something in her face that made him soften his expression. “Yours is accurate. It’s more informative.”

“Wow,” Sophie deadpanned. “You make it sound so fun.”

Theo scoffed. “You know what I mean. I caught some of Tristan’s tour a couple weeks ago. Did you know he really does have a story about a guy with a hook for a hand?” He shook his head in disgust. “He’s just recycling every canned story that you ever heard as a kid at scout camp.”

“I didn’t go to scout camp.”

“All the better. You’re not just someone from out of town trying to make a buck. You’re one of us. You love this town, and it shows when you’re telling people stories about it. That love shines through. Believe me, you’re going to be okay.”

“Thanks.” But Sophie wasn’t sure. Theo was right; she did love this town.

And the idea that her love was palpable in the stories she told and the tour she gave meant a lot.

But she was stuck on his descriptors: accurate, informative.

A ghost tour was supposed to be a fun tourist experience. Not a college course.

She put it out of her mind temporarily and opened her laptop, turning back to what was becoming a rough draft of a book.

Soon she was absorbed, making note of things she wanted to fact-check here, cleaning up language there.

Across the table from her, Theo had finished the fried rice and was reading a book while polishing off a second egg roll, occasionally making notes on a yellow pad in front of him.

Her gaze strayed to the portrait above Theo’s head. “Did Jo ever come by to take a look at that painting?” She jerked her chin in that direction, and Theo looked up at it.

“Not yet. She had to go on a buying trip with her father over the weekend, and I think she’s been busy with the new acquisitions.

” His gaze, as always, softened when he looked at the portrait, as though he were a man in love.

It was all she could do to not sigh dreamily.

What would it take for someone to look at her like that?

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I bet you were hoping to get some answers.”

He gave an unconcerned shrug. “It’s all right. I’ve gone a long time not knowing who she was. I can hold out a few more weeks.”

Sophie watched Theo watch the portrait, then her eyes moved to the wall clock above the door. She gave a start. “Is that the time?” It was almost eight, and she was not a girl to stay out late on a weeknight.

“Do you need an escort home?” Theo asked as they cleaned up the takeout detritus and set the museum to rights.

“I’m okay,” she said. “Lots of streetlights.” A sense of déjà vu swirled in her stomach.

She’d just had this conversation, hadn’t she?

It took a moment for her to place it: last Friday night with Tristan.

After the pizza, before the kiss. Ugh. She’d managed to go a few minutes without thinking of him.

She pushed the memory aside. “I’ll keep working on the manuscript. Let me know if you find anything else we want to include.”

A sad satisfaction swelled within her. Tristan might be able to take away her ghost tour, but no matter what, her stories would live on.

It wasn’t much. But maybe it would have to do.