Page 33 of Ghost Business (Boneyard Key #2)

Twenty-One

“I like him.” Libby hit a few keys, closing out of a document before leaning back in her chair and grinning up at Sophie.

“What?” Sophie felt like she’d come into a conversation somewhere in the middle, and didn’t even know where to begin. “Who?”

“Your guy. You know, Tristan.” She clicked a few more keys, bringing up her email screen while talking to Sophie at the same time.

“I know I’m just supposed to tolerate him for the sake of being polite, but he’s really not that bad.

You know, except for the whole ‘trying to put you out of business’ part. ”

“What?” Sophie said again, because her thought process had skidded at the words your guy and hadn’t quite come back online yet. “He’s not…”

Her words were drowned out by the ringing of the old-school, push-button landline phone on Libby’s desk, leaving Sophie’s denial about Tristan only half-spoken.

Which was probably where it should be. Because he wasn’t her guy.

But he wasn’t not her guy, either, right?

There were only so many times you could kiss your next-door neighbor good night before you had to think that something might be up here.

Libby held up one finger as she answered the phone.

“Simpson Investigations, this is Libby, how can I…Oh. Hey.” Her professional phone voice dropped at least an octave, her cheerful tone going flat.

“Yeah, Lawrence ”—Libby put a weird emphasis on the name—“she’s here, but…

” She screwed up her mouth, chewing on the inside of her cheek as the voice on the other line spoke.

“Okay, but did you take care of…” Once again, she couldn’t get a sentence out, and her face tightened even more.

“Okay. Yeah. Okay . Hold on.” She pushed a button, and the light that indicated the incoming call started blinking as she pushed a couple more buttons.

“Hey, Nan. Yeah, it’s him. He took care of the job, but he’s still in South Carolina.

I guess there’s a problem with a haunted house a couple towns over he wanted to fill you in on before…

?” This time the trail-off midsentence seemed deliberate, and Libby listened, nodding along.

“Yep. Oh, and Sophie’s here. You got it.

” A couple more button presses, and Libby hung up and leaned back in her office chair, making it roll gently back a few inches. A loud sigh gusted out of her mouth.

“Everything okay?” Sophie raised her eyebrows.

Nan had exactly two employees: Libby, who served as her office manager, and a guy named Lawrence who, for some reason, never set foot in Boneyard Key.

He spent his time on the road, running down leads and dispelling hauntings that Nan deemed too far away from home for her to concern herself with.

Sophie didn’t know much about him, but the one thing she did know was that he seemed to push Libby’s buttons.

And not in a good way. Phone calls from him were few and far between, but Libby did a lot of sighing afterward.

Sophie had asked once or twice about him, but Libby always changed the subject, and Sophie had gotten the message.

“Yeah.” Libby shook her head as though waking up from an annoying dream and reached for her coffee. “Now, where was I?”

Sophie didn’t want to remind her, but it would come around eventually. “Tristan.” Just saying his name conjured up the muscle memory of kissing him good night in front of their doors, making her heart skip a beat and a flush creep up the back of her neck.

That reminder seemed to chase away any remnants of Libby’s bad mood, and she smiled around her sip of coffee. “Right. I just want you to know that I approve.”

“Approve?” Sophie gave a start. What did Libby know?

What had Tristan told her? Was she going to need to check the breezeway outside her front door for cameras?

Be more discreet when kissing Tristan? Or worse, stop kissing him altogether?

“Approve of what?” Why couldn’t she sound casual, like a normal person?

Why did she have to sound all nervous and prickly?

But Libby waved an unconcerned hand. “Just…in general. I approve in general.” The words were a pronouncement.

“Thanks,” Sophie said dryly. She took a slow, deep breath while trying to get her panicking heart under control. “I’ll be able to sleep better knowing that. Is that why you wanted me to come by? To tell me you approve of basically nothing?”

“Oh. No.” Libby glanced down at the phone, where the line was still lit up. “Nan wants to talk to you. I’ll send you in once she’s off the phone.”

“Okay.” Sophie watched Libby take another pull of her coffee.

Now that the panic about her and Tristan was wearing off, she took a good look at her best friend for the first time.

Libby didn’t usually drink coffee this late into the morning; it was practically noon.

If she hadn’t switched over to her pink Stanley full of ice water, she was cracking open a Diet Coke.

But now, as Libby turned back to her computer, Sophie noticed that her face looked drawn and there were circles under her eyes.

Her usual sleek blond ponytail was pulled up haphazardly.

“You okay?” Sophie asked. “No offense, but you look like you could use a nap.”

“None taken.” Libby yawned, as though the mention of a nap had prompted her subconscious, and stifled it with the back of her hand. “Sorry. Nan hasn’t been sleeping well the past few nights.” She pressed her lips together, her face drawn with worry, and now Sophie was worried too.

“This has been going on for a bit, right?” She remembered back in the spring, when Libby had cut Romance Resort night short. She’d had to miss one or two since then as well. “Has she been to the doctor? Is something wrong?” Dread climbed up her throat. Something couldn’t be wrong with Nan.

“She’s…” Libby choked on the word and blinked hard, her eyes shining.

Oh, no. “She’s okay,” she finally said. “Technically. The doctors say she’s fine, and you know Nan.

She won’t hear any different. But…” She threw a look over her shoulder, toward Nan’s closed office door.

“She’s definitely slowing down.” Libby’s voice was hushed.

“More bad nights than good right now.” Libby heaved a sigh.

“It’s scary. You know that.” The look she gave Sophie was full of meaning.

“Yeah.” Sophie had a hard time getting the word out. “Yeah, I know that.” She reached for her best friend, covering Libby’s hand with hers, and they held on tight to each other for a few pained heartbeats.

Then Libby let go and sat back, dashing a tear away with her fingertips. “Anyway.” She turned back to her computer. “Have you seen the latest on the storm?”

Any other time Sophie would have groaned, but today she’d allow it.

They both could use a distraction. “What storm?” She tried to keep the here we go again out of her voice as she moved to look over Libby’s shoulder.

One of Libby’s favorite hurricane tracking websites was up, showing a map of the Atlantic Ocean.

She was in full storm hunter mode today.

“This one.” Libby tapped a fingernail against the screen. “I don’t like the looks of it.”

Sophie squinted at the X somewhere in the middle of the ocean. “You can’t be serious. That one’s barely off the coast of Africa.”

“Conditions are good, though. Everyone on the forums is saying that this could be a big one.”

“Oh, well, if everyone on the forums says so…” Because people on the internet were notorious for knowing what they’re talking about. She’d learned that much from going viral.

“Of course, it depends a lot on the currents, but the water’s been warm lately, which makes it more likely to become a bigger storm if it hits it right. And then of course if it makes it to that channel down around Cuba, it could make a run up the Gulf…”

“I’m hearing a lot of ifs.”

Libby kept going as though Sophie hadn’t spoken.

“Probably going to be Flynn. I mean, the next name up is Evangeline, but that’ll probably be this one.

” She tapped at another X, way up in the North Atlantic in the middle of nowhere.

“The wind speeds are about at the point where it’ll get a name, but it’s just going to be a fish spinner. Not going to come close to anywhere.”

“Evangeline? Who comes up with these names, anyway?” Sophie looked at one X, then the other.

Neither one looked particularly threatening, and she had no idea what made Libby declare one dangerous over the other.

But Libby’s job as an office manager for an elderly ghost hunter meant a lot of long days with only the internet to keep her company.

She spent a lot of that time reading up on hurricanes and their patterns.

There were probably worse ways to waste time on the internet.

“I’m just saying. Mark my words. This one could come this way.”

“You got it,” Sophie said. “Your words are marked.”

Libby quirked a smile, and that made Sophie feel better. She made a mental note to keep better track of her best friend. She’d been thinking too much about Tristan lately, and not the things—and people—who mattered.

Libby obviously disagreed. “So back to Tristan…” She grinned while Sophie groaned. “Have you driven him out of business yet?”

“Not yet.” Sophie sighed. She’d rather go back to talking about hurricanes. At least she knew she didn’t want a hurricane in Boneyard Key. Tristan she was feeling less confident about.

“How is it all being determined, anyway? I know you said ‘most successful,’ but what’s the metric? Are we talking attendance, profit…?”

“Ticket sales.” That was something she knew definitively, at least. The only thing. “He started saying all this stuff about profit margins and net income, and that’s all too complicated.”