Page 21 of The Ghost of Ellwood

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” He moved his fingers through his strawberry blond hair. The way his bangs swooped in his face made me think of those emo hairstyles. The tops of his ears were pierced, three silver studs in each. “You had something to tell me, right? Something that happened in the manor?”

“Right.” I took a drink, giving myself more time to formulate my response. I doubted he’d think I was crazy for what I was about to say. He believed in the supernatural. “I finally got around to going through my attic.”

I then explained the discovery of the box labeledBlackwelland finding the photo of Theo and George. Carter listened as I talked. When I described the incident in my room, his eyes grew large.

“It was ripped up?” he asked, scooting closer to the table and leaning toward me. “Oh my God, Ben. Did you see anything?”

“No. I thought I saw someone standing behind the curtain before I shut the window, but I’m not sure it was real. The picture, though, was definitely real. It was a little creased when I found it but fully intact. Someone had ripped it to shreds with me in the room.”

“Wow. The place reallyishaunted. I wonder why they destroyed the picture.”

“Want to hear something interesting?”

“You mean, more interesting than a damn ghost going all Freddy Krueger on an old photo?”

His humor was the best.

“I think the ghost is Theo Blackwell,” I said, watching Carter’s expression morph from amusement to utter fascination. I liked the way he hung onto my every word. “I went to the library a few days ago to research the manor. But I couldn’t find much on Theo. Then, the librarian took me into the back room where they keep old records, and I saw a newspaper clipping about Theo going missing.”

I told Carter what Florence had said about George Blackwell being a suspect in Theo’s disappearance and how he fled town not long after.

“Do you think George killed Theo?” Carter asked.

“I don’t know, but somethingdidhappen to him. And whatever it was has caused him to stick around even after his death.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” he said, smirking.

“Shit happens.” I returned his smirk. “I can debunk odd noises in the house. Can’t find an explanation for the photo, though.”

Carter stood and grabbed our plates. I got up and helped him carry them to the sink.

“You’re the guest. You’re not supposed to clean up.”

“Yeah, well, sue me.” I rinsed off my plate and stuck it in the dishwasher.

“When I was little, Ilovedwhen my dad read meThe Hardy Boysbooks,” Carter said, using his hip to push the dishwasher door closed. “I can’t sit still long enough to read now, but back then, bedtime was my favorite part of the day because it meant Dad would read another chapter to me. Solving crimes and sleuthing around was, like, life goals for me.”

“Yeah?” I crossed my arms, facing him. I had several inches on him in height, putting him around five-nine probably.

“Yeah.” He mirrored my smile. “This whole thing about Theo going missing back in the day andno oneknowing what happened to him. I think we have a case on our hands, Detective Cross.”

“Detective, huh?”

“It’ll be fun.” His dimple flashed. “Well, unless the ghost gets pissed off and murders us.”

“I doubt that will happen.” My face hurt. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d smiled so much. “Next time, I’ll have to cook foryou.I’m not the best cook, but I can make a mean lasagna. It’s my specialty.”

“There will be a next time?” he asked with a hopeful expression.

“I meant what I said about you being my only friend here. You’re kind of stuck with me.”

Carter was a great friend and had made my transition to a new town easier. Other people acted differently once they knew who I was, and I was sick of them bowing down to me and kissing my ass. Carter didn’t.

His answering nose crinkle warmed my chest.

“You want a drink?” he asked. “I have beer or we can crack open my bottle of Captain Morgan and talk about our exes.”