Page 3 of Ghostlighted (Ghost Townies #2)

Chapter Two

T aryn’s hand fell from the doorknob, and she turned with a sigh. “Maz Amani, you are the hardest person in the world to give money to. Anybody else would be thrilled.”

“I bet anybody else would still want to know what the money was for.”

“You’d be surprised. Most would just take it and run.” She moved to the bottom of the staircase and set her bag on the bottom step. “Do you remember when we first met?”

“Of course.

“The day after you moved in, we sat on these stairs and you asked me whether Oren’s estate included any cash. At that time, because of the lawsuits, it didn’t. Now the lawsuits are settled, so why are you hesitant to take the proceeds?”

“Because before, I didn’t know Avi was here. It feels wrong to use money that he earned on things that have nothing to do with him.”

“Hmmm.” Her eyes flicked to the family room door and the kitchen archway beyond. “Is Avi nearby?”

“Still in the kitchen, as far as I know. He didn’t follow me, anyway.”

With a tiny nod, she beckoned me forward, lowering her voice. “Did anyone tell you the results of Carson’s arrest?”

“I didn’t ask.” Having somebody wave a gun in your face was best forgotten as soon as possible.

She laid a hand on my arm, but focused on my shoulder instead of my face. “Carson took a plea.”

“A plea,” I said woodenly. “Great.”

“He got the maximum jail time for the copyright infringement and the threat with a deadly weapon charges. Five years each, to be served consecutively.”

“He should have been convicted for murdering Avi,” I muttered.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry about that, but the DA was afraid the jury wouldn’t buy causality between the attack and Avi’s death.

” She pursed her lips and exhaled. “The publisher pushed for the maximum fine on the copyright case and got it. They kept half, because of course they did, but Avi’s contract specified a 50% share of any incidental income accrued from his work, hence your check. ”

I frowned down at her. “Carson might have been a real estate agent, but you can’t tell me he had two hundred and fifty thousand dollars just lying around.”

She shrugged. “He had to liquidate most of his assets, which he wasn’t happy about. But if he hadn’t agreed, the DA threatened to put Avi’s assault back on the table, although without the murder charge because of said causality issue.”

I huffed out a breath. “I will never understand the legal system.”

“What can I say? Legal doesn’t always equate to fair.” She patted my arm once and picked up her bag. “Are you going to cash that check?”

I glanced over my shoulder. Still no sign of Avi. “It’s not mine.”

“Look.” She hitched her bag onto her shoulder. “I can sort of see your point about the royalties, although I think you need to get over it. But this is different. Think of it as a… a finder’s fee.”

“Finder’s fee?”

“Yes. If it weren’t for you, Avi’s last book would have remained lost, maybe forever, possibly destroyed.

His reputation had been tarnished by Carson’s actions, but you’ve set its redemption in motion.

You faced the barrel of a gun for his sake, Maz.

” She shivered, blinking rapidly. “You’ve earned this, and I’m sure Avi feels the same way.

So just take the fricking money and buy a car, okay? ”

She didn’t wait for my answer this time, just swept out the door, closing it behind her with a decisive click .

“A finder’s fee. Sure. Whatever.”

I wandered into the library and watched from the turret windows as she marched down my walk and climbed into her Prius. Although I waited, scanning the street while she drove away, there was no sign of Ricky yet. He’d told me he had a couple of stops to make first, so?—

“She’s right, you know.”

I screeched and stumbled away from the window, banging my hip on the edge of the desk in the process.

“Jeez, Avi. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

He chuckled as he drifted over and sat on the window seat. Well, on-ish. He had one leg tucked underneath him, but his butt was floating about an inch above the cushion. Gil hopped up next to him and zeroed in on a crested jay who was squawking away on the porch railing.

“You live with a ghost, Maz. Surely you should be used to jump scares by now.”

“I suppose.” I dropped onto the curve of the window seat next to the desk. “Did you, um, hear what Taryn said about Carson?”

He nodded. “I did.”

“Does it bother you? That he wasn’t charged with your murder?”

“Honestly?” He lifted one shoulder and reached out to stroke Gil’s back, making his fur lift along his spine as though Avi’s palm were infused with static electricity. Which, for all we knew, it was. “Not as much as it probably should.”

I glared out the window at the pansies nodding along the edge of the walk, at the shadows cast on the neatly trimmed lawn by the maple leaves, at the porch swing swaying in the breeze. Avi had never had the chance to enjoy that with Oren. All because of Carson.

“It sure as hell bothers me.”

“Don’t misunderstand. I’m still angry. Incandescently so.”

Since a stack of unpaid bills on the desk started to stir, I knew he was telling the truth about that. Avi’s rage tended to express itself with airborne paper goods.

“However,” he said, “my anger is more on Oren’s behalf.

Yes, I was robbed of time we could have spent together, but I wasn’t aware of its passage.

I was”—he made a circular motion with one hand—“elsewhere. But Oren had to live through those years without me, without us . From what you’ve told me, he never recovered from the loss, not even to return here, to this town, to this house.

” His expression hardened. “That, I can never forgive.”

“Yeah, I get that. But?—”

“But.” He held up one finger. “ But. I probably know more about Carson than anybody except his revolting spiritual twin.”

I lifted a brow. “I take it you mean Liam? Sofia’s grandson?”

“The same.”

“Ricky calls their relationship the Young Assholes of America bond.”

Avi snorted. “Apt. Anyway, I know that the best way to punish Carson is to deprive him of what he values most. His possessions. His reputation.” He fixed me with a stare. “His money. So will you do me a favor, Maz?”

The intensity of Avi’s gaze practically shoved me against the window. “S-sure, Avi. Anything.”

“Cash that check and take his fucking money .”

I winced. Crap . I’d just painted myself into a proverbial corner, hadn’t I? I probably shouldn’t be surprised. As Jake Fields, Avi knew how to craft a good plot twist, not to mention lay a mean trap for poor, unsuspecting ghostwriters.

Emphasis on the poor , so maybe I needed to stop fighting this so hard.

“Fine. I’ll cash the check.” I glared at him from under lowered brows. “But I won’t like it.”

He flashed a grin. “I can live with that. Or rather, not live, but you know what I mean. We’re making excellent progress here. Now.” He stood up and crossed the turret to loom over me. “I want you to listen to me, Maz. And I mean really listen. Not only listen, but hear me.”

I swallowed. “Okay.”

His eyebrows shot down and the bills rose from the desk next to me, rustling in the air. “Stop being such an idiot!”

“Beg pardon?”

“Because of what Carson did, this house never had the chance to become a home.”

“But you grew up here. It was already your home.”

“It was not. It was simply the house I’d inherited from my parents. A beautiful house. A house that Oren and I showered with time, money, and his incredible talent. But still just a house. It hadn’t crossed that last line because I was waiting for him. Waiting for Oren.”

His face shuttered for an instant, and I knew what he was thinking. He was still waiting for Oren, and maybe always would.

Avi took a breath and met my gaze. “Then you came. You didn’t freak out when you found out you were sharing the space with a ghost.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” I had freaked out pretty significantly.

A smile glimmered on his lips. “Well, only at first. But then you accepted me. Involved me. Partnered with me, in a way. You made the attic my personal space.”

“To be fair, Ricky helped with that, as did the guys from Transitions Transportation.”

He waved a hand. “It was your idea, even if you didn’t personally relocate everything.

” His gaze caught on his left hand which was still in the air.

“You gave something to me that I would never have gotten should anybody else have inherited this place and Oren’s things.

” He touched the wedding band gently. “You gave me my husband.”

I took a shaky breath, forcing air into my leaden lungs. Because the evidence of Oren’s plans for a surprise Canadian wedding, one that Avi hadn’t lived to see, still hurt.

Not for the first time since I’d gotten that call from Taryn telling me I’d inherited this house, I wished I’d known about the bequest before it was too late.

Maybe Oren and I could have helped each other, sustained each other through the grief of his loss of Avi and my loss of my parents.

At the very least, neither of us would have been alone.

“Any decent person would have done the same.”

Avi chuckled. “In case you hadn’t noticed, decency isn’t always the default setting for our fellow humans.”

“I guess not. But I still think we have the right to expect it.”

“Trust, but verify, Maz. When it comes to decency, trust, but verify.” His gaze slid away from me. “So, you claim this is our house now, correct? Our home?”

I narrowed my eyes, because when Avi had used that tone a few minutes ago, I’d walked right into a trap. “Yeeaahh.”

“That means I need to contribute, too.”