Page 13 of Ghostlighted (Ghost Townies #2)

Chapter Nine

“ Y ou’re really good at this,” I puffed as I hauled the last box, which seemed to contain bricks, up the stairs to my bedroom.

Ricky wasn’t even breathing hard. He swung his box off his shoulder and thumped it down just inside the bedroom door. “I’ve had lots of practice carting things up and down these stairs. Tia’s too.” He flashed me a grin. “Let’s just say I’ve never needed to hit a StairMaster.”

I set my box down with a relieved huff and straightened, pressing my hands to my lower back. “In case I haven’t mentioned it before? I really appreciate your help.”

His gaze locked with mine. “It’s my pleasure.”

It suddenly struck me that we were in my bedroom . And that my bed was right there . I took a step forward. Ricky matched me. But before we moved any closer, there was a chink-chink-chink from the stairs, followed by the thud of furry paws galloping down from the attic.

An orange blur flashed by the door and I heard the telltale skitter of Gil batting something along the hardwood floor.

I raised my palms. “I’d better go see what he’s stolen from poor Avi.”

Ricky gestured to the door. “After you.”

Just as I stepped out of the room, I heard a distant bright clink . Gil was standing with his head poked through the balusters, staring down into the entryway.

“Lost it already, big guy?” I ran my fingers down Gil’s spine as I passed him. “I really hope you didn’t break anything irreplaceable, or Avi won’t be friends with you anymore.” Although considering Avi’s short list of available friends, I suspected he’d cut Gil considerable slack.

“Trouble?” Ricky asked, appearing by my side.

“Gil being Gil. Just need to assess for any necessary damage control.” I peered over the railing. I didn’t see anything obvious, and Avi hadn’t made an outraged appearance with attendant flying paper, so I trotted down the stairs, with Gil dashing along at my side.

He, of course, made a fast break at the foot of the stairs, darting in front of my feet and making me clutch at the banister to keep from taking a header onto the floor. Ricky gripped my other arm.

“Steady, there.”

I met his gaze. I wasn’t sure I could be steady with him touching me, but I managed to croak, “Thanks.” Then he released me. Dammit . “I, um, better go see what he’s got.”

While we’d paused on the stairs, Gil had already chased his treasure out of the vestibule and into the family room. His head was under the sofa, his butt in the air, and his tail waving. I hauled him out.

“That’ll be enough from you, Mister Sir.” I held him out to Ricky. “Could you contain him for a couple of minutes while I conduct some reconnaissance?”

“No problem. Come here, gatito.” Ricky scooped Gil into his arms and flipped him upside down. Gil didn’t struggle in Ricky’s grasp—understandable, since I wouldn’t either—but he craned his neck to peer down at the floor, pupils blown into perfect black circles.

I engaged my phone’s flashlight function and knelt down, sweeping the beam from one end of the sofa to the other.

Nothing, not even a dust bunny, thank you, Avi .

I’d think Gil was chasing air again—he’d been known to do that—or a random fly or moth, except air and insects didn’t chink coming down the stairs.

I made another sweep, and I saw it: a glint of gold half-hidden by the sofa foot, and my stomach swooped, because I recognized the curve of burnished metal.

Oren’s wedding band.

Dammit, Gil, this is not something you can steal. Avi would forgive a lot of things, but losing Oren’s ring was high on the list of not ever, not nohow . How had he missed Gil’s attack?

Oh. He must be… elsewhere .

We needed some way for us to communicate when he was in that place, wherever it was. Maybe the ghost hunting site ran to multidimensional cell phones or phantasmagorical telegraphs. I’d have to check it out, although not until the present crisis was averted.

I reached under the sofa and snagged the ring with the tip of my forefinger, drawing it across the floor until I could grab it and fold my fist around it.

When I stood, I gave Gil a stern glare, which had about as much effect as you might expect. That is to say, none. He’d stopped doing his freaky owl impression and was lying, seemingly content, in Ricky’s arms, all four feet curled up to his furry belly.

I lowered my head until I was nose-to-nose with Gil. “Do I need to restrict your attic access?”

“He steal something he shouldn’t?”

“You could say that.” I stood and uncurled my fingers slightly so Ricky could glimpse what rested in my palm.

Ricky grimaced. “Dios.”

“Exactly.” I glared at Gil again. “We need to have a serious discussion about your addiction to shiny things. Maybe I should check online for gold lamé catnip mice.”

“If you can’t find one, I expect Tia could make one for you. She used to make toys for Princesa all the time.”

“I’ll have to?—”

“Maz!” Avi was suddenly right there , occupying the space between Ricky and me. His transparent elbow must have collided with Gil and Ricky, because Gil’s belly fur stood on end and Ricky startled, uttering a soft curse.

“It’s all right, Avi.” I held my hand up and waggled my fist. “I caught him before?—”

“It’s Sofia.”

I took a step back. “What?”

Avi glitched, something he hadn’t done since my first days in the house, when he’d still been confused and angry. “Sofia. In her garden. I saw it from the attic window.” He disappeared.

“I felt something .” Ricky set Gil down and rubbed his arm. “Was that… was that Avi?”

“Yes, but he’s gone now. He said something about Sofia.”

Ricky’s jaw tightened. “I need to go.” He strode toward the front door—and right through Avi, who’d blinked into sight again.

Both of them shuddered.

“Not that way.” Avi wrung his hands. “The garden. Hurry! She collapsed.”

“Avi said she collapsed in the garden. The back door is quicker.”

Ricky didn’t hesitate. He barreled past me and charged through the kitchen before I could take a step. From the sound of it, he’d wrenched the back door open so hard it banged against the wall. I couldn’t blame him. If something was wrong with Sofia…

“We’ll check it out,” I assured Avi.

He ran his hands down his pants and I wondered briefly whether ghosts’ palms could sweat. “Update me as soon as you know something?”

“Absolutely.”

As I hurried into the kitchen, I glanced down at my hand. I didn’t want to leave Oren’s ring where Gil could get to it, but— “Gil!” I shoved the ring deep in my front pocket just in time to grab Gil up before he could dash past me and out the open mudroom door.

“You’ve caused enough trouble without me having to chase you through the neighborhood. Stay here with Avi.” I set Gil in the butler’s pantry and closed its swinging door. I met Avi’s gaze. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Avi nodded. “Hurry.”

I stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind me.

The westering sun had dipped below the stand of fir trees in Patrice’s yard and cast their long shadows across my lawn.

The shadows pointed directly to Ricky, kneeling next to an ominously still figure that lay in the dirt we’d turned… was it only yesterday?

I raced down the steps and across my lawn and dropped down next to him. Sofia was lying on her side, one arm extended toward a tomato plant and the other limp against her stomach. Ricky held his phone in one hand as he gently laid the fingers of his other hand against her neck.

“Is she breathing?” I asked.

“Yes, but her pulse is racing.”

“An SVT episode?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He thumbed his phone and handed it to me. “Put this on speaker, please?”

I did as he asked, laid the phone on my palm, and raised it near his face.

“9-1-1. What is your emergency?”

“My aunt has collapsed. We need an ambulance.” Ricky gave them Sofia’s address. “We’re in the backyard. In her garden. She’s breathing, but has an extremely rapid pulse.”

“Help is on the way. Please stay on the line with me until they arrive. Is there anything the responders should know?”

“Yes. She has chronic SVT, but she’s on beta blockers to control the condition.”

“Any other medications?”

“Yes. Simvastatin, a calcium supplement, and a multivitamin.”

“If you could have those available for the EMTs, that would be helpful.”

Ricky looked up at me. “I hate to ask, but?—”

“Just tell me where to look.”

“Upstairs medicine chest. The bottles will be there along with the pill minder for the week. Bring it all?”

“You got it.”

I set Ricky’s phone on the ground next to him and ran up the slope to Sofia’s porch.

The back door was closed but not locked, so I hurried inside.

I raced up the stairs to a wide landing.

The sinking sun shone through a window at the end of a short hallway to my right, in the direction of my house, laying a swath of orange-yellow along the floor like a second carpet.

The window to my left was already twilight-dark, shadows gathering in the corners beneath it.

A door immediately ahead of me led to a bathroom, but when I checked the medicine chest, it held only hand lotion, a bottle of witch hazel, and an unopened box of toothpaste.

Holding my hand up to shade my eyes, I found two doors at either side of the hall.

One led to a spacious, airy room that didn’t look like Sofia’s style in the least, all leather and navy and brass.

I didn’t bother checking the ensuite, because this was clearly Liam’s space, lovingly maintained despite him never showing up.

A smaller room across the hall was done up in vibrant reds and yellows I associated with Sofia, but it didn’t have her signature honeysuckle scent, nor did it have an attached bath.

With the sun at my back, I followed my shadow across the landing again and hit pay dirt, although I had to blink for a few seconds as my vision adjusted to the dimness.

In terms of size and floor plan, the room was Liam’s man-suite in reverse, but the embroidered coverlet on the bed matched the throw pillows in Sofia’s living room, and the rocking chair next to the window was the twin of the one on the back porch.

A half-open door next to the carved headboard revealed a glimpse of gleaming white porcelain.

Aha! Target acquired . Movement caught my eye as I hurried across the room, making me stumble for a moment.

However, it was only my reflection in the mirror over the long oak bureau.

Framed pictures marched along the bureau’s top, clearly of the same person as he grew from sullen black-haired little boy to smirking blond man.

“Liam, I presume.” As I flipped on the bathroom light, I wondered briefly what had prompted Liam to start dying his hair.

Sofia’s pill minder, a long pink plastic box, sat on the pristine white tiles of the vanity. Two of the compartments were already empty, their tops flipped up. The others held two white tablets, a pink oval pill, plus a small gel capsule and a gummy.

“Okay, so I need four pill bottles.” When I opened the medicine chest, I took half a heartbeat to admire how orderly the shelves were. I’d been in my house for less than a month and my toiletries had already staged a rave inside the cabinet.

The middle shelf held two orange plastic prescription bottles and a larger brown bottle with the calcium supplements.

The larger bottle of multivitamin gummies beneath them on the taller shelf.

A small basket on the vanity top held neatly rolled scarlet hand towels, so I removed all but one and used the last to cushion the bottom of the basket, making a nest for the bottles and pill minder.

As I ran out of the bedroom clutching the basket to my chest, I clocked that the wall facing the bed was virtually papered with framed photos of other family members.

Even in the gathering dusk, I picked out Ricky’s smile immediately, because of course I did, but then I was out the door and down the stairs.