Page 82 of Ghostly

“Though I do have two friends in town, and if you have questions, if you need guidance while you’re still exploring what you’re feeling, and for whom—”

“Dude, whatcha going on about?” Perry shot up. Something slipped out of his pants pocket and clinked as it fell on the floor.

A locket?Didn’t he buy these for Ida?

Ida and Perry had been spending a lot of time together. Alone. Had she done something to him? He didn’t believe she’d harm Perry intentionally.

“Perry, how are you feeling?” Gabriel asked.

“Fine, I guess.” Perry grimaced—lifted an eyebrow, scrunched his nose, moved his mouth to the side, as if he was testing his facial muscles. “I did feel kinda nice during this interview, though. I think the alarm clock worked.”

“I don’t think it was the alarm clock,” Gabriel drawled. “What did you—”

Someone rapped on the front door.

“Must be the paint for the facade.” Gabriel stood. “Don’t move. We’re not finished discussing this.” He walked to the front door and, without checking, opened it wide.

A thirty-something woman with a meticulous bob cut in a pantsuit stood on the porch. No package in hand. Didn’t look like a postal worker,either. Gabriel only had a second to flash back to that night after the scandal—opening the door, the photographer, andher—as the woman said, with a stern, but victorious voice that perfectly matched the suit and the haircut, “Gabriel Vane. Found at last.”

Chapter 20

Incessant knocking drew Ida out of her room. She reached the stairs at the same time Gabriel came to open the front door.

“Gabriel Vane. Found at last.” The speaker was hidden from Ida, but she didn’t like that tone. She floated off the staircase to land behind Gabriel.

“I’m Natalie Waller. I work for the Evening Times.”

“I gathered. All of you people have a certain… look to you.” Gabriel’s snide tone matched hers. “Now that you made your long journey here, I can tell you the same as everyone else: no statement.”

The woman had to be a reporter. Ida bit her lip, stuck in indecisiveness. She could make her go away—slam the door, pass through her to scare her—but would Gabriel want that? Would she only make it worse? Besides, she had her own pressing issue. Gabriel could handle the reporter—Ida had to handle the locket. She phased through to the kitchen. Perry stood by the table, tapping one foot, looking like a kid waiting for detention.

Ida knocked on the counter.

“Holy—” Perry jumped. “Ghostie? You here?”

Ida knocked again.

“Right, right, the phone!”

She waited for him to turn it on and popped right in. “Where’s the locket?”

“Uh, on the ground. Why?”

“I’m sorry, Perry. It doesn’t give you confidence, or focus, or inspiration. It’s better for you not to use it.”

“Didn’t feel bad to me. Although… have you ever noticed Gabriel is one attractive dude?”

Yes, that was exactly the problem. The locket wasn’t on Perry anymore; maybe he only had residual feelings. “We have to hide the locket for now. I’ll explain later.”

“Okay. Where do I put it?”

Did the front door close? Ida flicked out and flew through the wall, narrowly missing Gabriel as he turned the corner into the living room.Quick—back through the wall, into the phone—“Uh, wherever, just hide it, now!”

Muffled panicked sounds and scratching—probably as Perry put the phone in his pocket—followed, and then, “What are you doing?”

Ida left the phone. Gabriel stood at the doorway; Perry was stretching one hand over the unused sugar pot, the locket dangling off his fingers. He froze in his action pose, a perfect picture of a burglar caught in the act.

“Gabriel, I can explain everything,” Ida said. “Let him put the locket away.”