Page 5 of Ghostlighted (Ghost Townies #2)

Chapter Three

I eyed Avi while I snaked an arm out and opened the nearest desk drawer to sweep the bills inside, away from prying ghosts with aerial talents. “That’s why what?”

“Why you refuse to touch the royalty money. Why you haven’t moved in.”

“It’s not the royalty money, Avi. It’s your royalty money.

And, hey.” I jabbed my finger toward the floor.

“I’ve moved in. I sleep in the primary bedroom.

My car’s parked in the garage. My cat’s litter box is in the mudroom, his food dishes are in the kitchen, and his toys are scattered all over the house from hell to breakfast.”

“That’s exactly my point. Other than the clothes you claim are serviceable, the car that hardly qualifies as transportation, the laptop which is about as workmanlike as you can get, and the bare minimum of grooming supplies, your cat has more personal items here than you do.”

“I— Wait.” Had I let my scruff get too scruffy? “Do you think I need more grooming supplies?”

He folded his arms, the toe of one foot tapping soundlessly. “Would you buy them with the royalty money if I said yes?”

“Well…” I scratched the back of my head. Should I get my hair trimmed? My curls reached past my shoulders now. “Doesn’t that seem like an inappropriate use of funds?”

“Oh, for the love of—” He flung his hands in the air and float-marched to the middle of the room before turning to face me. “Look at this library.”

Lowering my eyebrows, I glanced around the room. “Yeah. It’s amazing. I thought so the first time I saw it.”

“We had that desk custom built by a local woodworker.”

I ran my hand along its gleaming oak top. “They did a fantastic job.”

“Yet the only thing you use it for is to hide your bills.” He pointed at me when I grimaced. “Yeah, don’t think I missed that little maneuver.”

“Sorry.” I peeked up at him, caught the exasperated look on his face, and switched to studying my frayed sneaker laces. “The desk really is beautiful.”

“Then tell me.” He hunkered down in front of me and looked up into my face.

“Why do you always set up your laptop on the table and work in the kitchen? Are you still traumatized by that tantrum I threw in here before I understood what was going on? Because you know I didn’t do it on purpose.

I’ll never forgive myself if that’s given you an aversion to the room. ”

That brought my head up with a snap. “No! I don’t blame you for that. And if any room should traumatize me, it should be the kitchen, since that’s where I was, you know, held at gunpoint.”

“Then why? Why won’t you work in here?”

I dropped my head again. “Because this was your office,” I mumbled.

He cupped a hand behind his ear. “What was that?”

“I said this was your office .” I didn’t shout. Almost. But then my shoulders fell and I gazed out the window so I couldn’t see the hurt in his eyes—or the pattern of the rug through his body. My voice dropped to nearly inaudible. “And this was where it happened.”

“Maz.” Avi’s words matched my vocal level. “I didn’t die here.”

I looked up at him. “No. But if you hadn’t been attacked here, while you were working at this ”—I jabbed my finger against the desktop—“desk, you’d never have died in the backyard.”

He scrunched up his face, making his glasses lift off his nose, and stood up with a sigh. “Evidently, both of us need to work on reclaiming spaces that trigger us. Maybe we can help each other do that. Deal?”

We couldn’t shake hands, so I stood and faced him, once again noting that we were exactly the same height. I nodded. “Deal.”

He returned the nod. “Cool. So if we ever find a way for me to step outside, you can coach me through the yard. In the meantime, let me assist you in staking your claim inside the house. You don’t need to keep it as a shrine to Oren and me.”

“It’s not a shrine.” I pointedly did not stare at the shelf that held all of Avi’s Jake Fields books. “While the house may be mine legally because of those pesky laws that prevent the deceased from owning property, I share it with you. You should have some say.”

His smile was a little evil. “Then here’s my say.

” He leaned forward. “If you have to work up the gumption to use the royalty money over time, I can respect that. But meanwhile, at least hang up a photograph or two. Stick your favorite mugs in the kitchen cabinets. Put your own books on the shelves. Move in .”

“Well.” I picked at a loose thread on my jeans. “There’s a thing.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “A thing? What kind of thing?”

“The kind of thing where my conflict avoidance kicks in and makes me want to barricade myself in a blanket fort to stress-eat Sofia’s tres leches cake.”

“While I would take any excuse to gobble up Sofia’s cake, would you care to be more specific about the conflict in question?”

“Specifically, the conflict with my ex.” I sank down the onto window seat, drew one knee up and clasped my hands around my shin. “In order to get the rest of my belongings—not that there are many of them, mind you—I have to face Greg again. The boxes are all in his condo.”

“Ah.” He shoved his hands in his cardigan pockets, making the front hem dip, and shrugged. “I’d offer to accompany you when you confront him, except for one tiny issue.”

“You can’t leave the house.”

His eyebrows rose, his eyes widening in exaggerated shock. “I’d forgotten about that.”

“There’s another problem?”

“Yes.” He smirked at me. “Can’t you guess?”

I shook my head, rolling my eyes. “I know I’m going to regret this. What?”

“Because I wouldn’t be caught dead in your car.”

I turned away as he snickered. “Are all ghosts smartasses, or is that just you?”

“If we ever find another one, we can ask.”

I caught a glimpse of chrome and shiny gray paint beyond the maple leaves. Ricky .

Avi stood behind my shoulder as Ricky got out of his truck.

“I have vague recollections of hearing a lawn mower and seeing him weeding the flower beds. But I don’t know if that’s from before or since.

” He smiled wanly as Ricky got out of the truck and headed up the walk.

“He took care of the lawn back then too, you see, so maybe I’m remembering those times instead. ”

I thought about this as Ricky neared the porch. He caught sight of me in the window and he lifted one hand in greeting, his smile dawning, which sent its usual thrill down my spine.

Ricky’s smile was deadly.

He paused for a moment, his smile fading, then shook his head and mounted the steps.

“You said you promised Oren to wait here, in the house. Maybe you needed somebody to be in the house before you could, er, manifest. Nobody had been inside since Saul locked everything down after the funeral.”

Avi shrugged again. “I must have been able to do something .” He gestured to the room. “No dust.”

“Right. And sawdust in the keyholes.”

The door opened and Ricky called, “Maz?”

“Come on in. We’re in the library.”

I turned to meet him, but Gil beat me to it, greeting Ricky with an imperative mrrow at the library’s open french doors. He leaned down to skritch Gil between the ears.

“Hey, Gil.”

He stood when I reached the edge of the rug.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he replied.

My smile must have been absolutely ludicrous because behind me, Avi snorted and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like glaciers .

Ricky peered over my shoulder. “Is, um, Avi here?”

I nodded. “He’s over by the windows. He was standing a little behind me when you pulled up and he’s still there.”

I cut a glance over my shoulder at him and mouthed asshole . Avi just chuckled, shaking his head.

Ricky pulled his lower lip between his teeth. “I’m not sure, but I think I may have caught a glimpse of him.”

Avi was by my side as though he’d teleported. “He saw me? So maybe other people could see me?”

“Avi is… really excited by that possibility.” I jerked a thumb at where Avi stood at my shoulder. “He moved.”

“Can he see me now?” Avi’s voice was trembling as he edged forward. “Does he know I’m standing right in front of him?”

“He, um, wants to know if you can still see him.”

“Sorry.” Ricky spread his hands, one of which passed through Avi’s cardigan sleeve. “Nada.”

Avi seemed to deflate. “I suppose it was too much to ask.”

“What exactly did you see?” I asked Ricky.

“I thought I saw someone next to you, but it was just a hint, like a reflection, but on the other side of the window?” He grimaced. “I didn’t mean to get anybody’s hopes up.”

“Hey, it’s still a possibility. Something to consider.

” I picked Gil up so he could bump his nose against Avi’s shoulder, which had seemed to fade a little after his disappointment.

“Although if I were you, I wouldn’t mention it to Saul or Patrice yet.

They might camp out on my lawn just on the off chance of a repeat sighting. ”

Ricky laughed and Avi managed a somewhat watery chuckle. “You’re probably right.” He clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together. “So. Are you ready for our gardening adventure?”

I spread my arms, putting my much-maligned outfit on display. “As you see.” I shot Avi a glance. He was gazing at Gil, and although he was stroking the cat’s head, he still looked dejected. Almost… forlorn. “Although Avi’s been giving me grief today about my wardrobe.”

Ricky’s brows rose. “Why?”

“He seems to think I don’t dress well enough to?—”

“Woo him,” Avi murmured.

I cleared my throat. “That I don’t dress well.”

“You’re dressed fine for gardening.”

I jabbed a finger in Avi’s direction. “Ex actly . Besides, I don’t have the money for new clothes.”

Ricky huffed a laugh. “Don’t feel pressured to adopt a style you don’t feel suits you, but if you wanted new clothes, you have more than enough to beef up your wardrobe.”

“I don’t want to waste my resources unnecessarily. Saul pays me well and I’ve gotten some decent-paying gigs through Ghostline, but I’m not exactly rolling in the dough.”

“You could roll in it if you wanted,” Avi said. “You’re just being stubborn.”