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the heel of her palm. “Mama! Parker!”

The door swung open and her mother stood before her in a white tank dress. “That boy has lost his God-given mind. Lost it! ”

Persephone lurched inside to find Parker stuffing their mother’s robe into her prized brocade-patterned suitcase. When he

strode down the hall into the bathroom their mother ran to the suitcase and yanked out her robe and a bundle of clothes and

threw them onto the sofa.

Persephone turned toward the hall. Parker was already back, holding a box of curling irons, a wicker basket of first-aid stuff,

general crap. She grabbed her brother’s arms, but her grip was too weak to hold on. “You know you can’t do this.”

“Quit slowing us down, Funny,” he said, after he tried and failed to sidestep her.

“Think about what you’re doing. Mama can’t just leave—you think sixty-eight grand is a lot of money?”

“I’m not a dumbass. I know it’s not a lot to live on—”

“It’s nothing to live on. John tries to help you out and you go and steal his money?” Persephone didn’t add Like you stole from those credit card owners though it was what she meant and they both knew it.

“I got to thinkin’,” he said, his arms full of junk and his head full of this asinine idea. “I give the boys the money, I

have nothin’. Me and Mama have nothin’. Gettin’ a decent-paying job is impossible and the boys won’t let me run with them

again. So what kind of options do I have? Don’t even answer that—the answer is none.” Parker shoved past her and stuffed a

smaller suitcase.

Their mother scooped a bunch of the stuff and dropped it onto the floor. “Parker,” she said, “you stop it right now. You stop

it, y’hear?” When Parker didn’t respond, she added, “You want to leave, leave, but I’m not going with you and neither are

your grandmama’s angel and cherub figurines.” She crossed her arms, determined. But Persephone knew her mother was scared

to death.

“Just give them the money, Parker. We can figure out the rest.”

“There is no rest ! I’m not some charity case, Funny. I’m a man. A goddamned man! ”

The house went still. Even their mother froze, her hand on her breastbone. Persephone watched her brother’s chest heave with

adrenaline and pride.

“Sorry, Mama,” Parker said. “Funny, I been takin’ care of me and Mama while you’ve been off in Hollywood—now, I’m not blaming

you so don’t think I am, but I can take care of us, just like I been.”

Persephone blinked. “Do they know where you live?”

He didn’t answer, but he looked awfully preoccupied with situating their mother’s box of curling irons into the nook of her

suitcase.

“Parker.”

“Pretty sure they do.”

Of course. “How well do you know these guys?”

“Well enough to know that if we don’t get the hell out of here, we’re dead.”

A sharp cry from their mother and her hand was back over her heart. “Lord Jesus, where’d you meet these people, Parker?”

“Come on Mama, we gotta move.” He glanced at his watch. “Damn it!”

“What? Whaaat?” their mother howled.

Parker handed her a fistful of cash.

“Mama, you go on over to Miss Karen’s while I finish gettin’ everything together. I’ll answer all your questions later but

right now, just listen to me. Please! ”

Parker’s desperation must have done it, because their wide-eyed mother was rushing toward the door. “Persephone, come on.”

Persephone turned to Parker. To Mama.

Her mother smacked her palms against her thighs. “Well, what are you waiting for? Come on, girl!”

“I’m going with Parker.”

Parker pointed to the door. “Funny, git !”

Persephone stepped close until she and Parker were inches apart. “You’re in this mess and you think you know how to get out

but you don’t. You’re going to keep your end of the deal and give them the money that John gave you for that very reason or

he’s going to take it back. And if you try to run with it, he’s going to report it stolen.”

Parker looked back at her like she’d stabbed him, and then he whirled toward John. She hadn’t noticed he’d come in, and she

winced at just how translucent he still was. John, the world-famous ghost, her friend, unprecedentedly crossed over from the

Other Side to stand before billions only to fade away forever on a dusty Corpus Christi highway.

Bad things. Bad things happened here.

But maybe, just maybe, if they took care of this thing with Parker, they’d still have time to find the Grey House. It was

a long shot, but there had to be a chance. She tried to yell but had to settle for a forceful rasp. “Parker, I swear on everything,

you better make this right.”

Her brother stared back at her. Then he kicked a throw pillow across the room. “Dammit, Funny!”

Persephone moved to grab the duffel bag, but Ruben beat her to it. “You’ve developed a serious case of Supergirl Complex if

you think I’m not coming with you.”

John nodded.

She looked at Parker pointedly. “I just want to make sure he goes through with it.”

Parker looked beaten. “Mama, I’ll let you know when it’s taken care of.”

Their mother hesitated before opening the door. “I want you both at Miss Karen’s by midnight, you understand me?”

When their mother left, Persephone turned to Parker. “So where are you supposed to meet these guys?”

“Out by Alazan Bay. Old fishin’ dock.”

Ruben said, “As in a shipping area where all those boats come in and drop off all those metal containers?”

“No,” Parker said. “It’s way out. Nobody goes out there.”

“Because if anyone wanted to whack anybody,” said Ruben, “like two locals and two out-of-towners...”

“We’re wasting time,” Persephone said.

“Why don’t you just stay with Mama?”

Persephone swiped Parker’s motorcycle keys and stuffed them into her pocket.

Parker scrunched his face. “You honestly think I’d make a run for it and leave her high and dry?”

She didn’t think so, but also she’d never thought her brother would’ve gotten himself involved in stealing credit card lines.

The truth was, she didn’t know what he’d do if he wasn’t thinking things through. Or maybe she was afraid of what he’d do

if he was.

28

Fifteen minutes later they were traveling down a dark dirt road. No other cars, houses, or streetlights in sight. John tried

to fill the quiet with positive thoughts, but Ruben made it so that moments of silence were far and few between.

Ruben leaned toward John. “We’re alone out here,” he whispered. “Meeting these dudes at some abandoned bay?”

Parker slowed the car and took a turn. They approached a small boathouse that could have been considered quaint, once, with its grey wooden slats and its red roof, but even at this distance it was easy to see that it was quite dilapidated now.

“OK,” said Ruben, “let’s think about this. Even when they get the money—we know too much. And no one knows we’re here. Have

we learned nothing from Forensic Files ?” He paused. “That water’s probably hella deep.”

The vehicle’s headlights were the only sources of light for what looked like miles around. If John didn’t know better, he’d

think they were completely alone here, that there wasn’t a bloodthirsty gang of criminals waiting inside.

“I feel like I should be Facebook Live-ing this right now,” Ruben muttered. “For witnesses.”

“Ruben,” Persephone said.

“Hey,” he said, shifting, “I’m tucking my cell somewhere in here... in this pouch behind the seat.”

“What are you talking about?” Persephone sounded annoyed but John knew her enough now to know that really she was frightened.

“If these guys whack us, the police can use the cell tower pings to find our bodies.”

“John could help them find us if it came down to that.”

“Not really. I mean... Never mind.” Ruben paused and opened his mouth to say something else but didn’t. He glanced at John

apologetically. It was true; probably John would not be here to say anything, lost to the aether.

“And if they pushed the car into the bay,” said Persephone, “which they probably would unless they’re complete imbeciles”—she

glared at Parker—“the cellphone would be useless.”

“Jesus!” Parker said. “Can we stop with all the death talk? I need to concentrate!” He put the car in park and turned to Persephone.

“The money.”

She struggled with the small duffel. John wished she hadn’t done the Overlay, wished he’d had the strength to move himself when she tried, but then he wouldn’t be here now, and they’d be facing these goons without him, and he didn’t want that, either. Even if he didn’t know how he’d be of use.

“Remember, let me do the talking.” Parker eyed Ruben. “ All the talking.”

A light cut through the darkness and into the car. Parker’s hand slid up from his thigh to the small of his back and down

again. Perhaps the gun reassured Parker, but it only made John more anxious. A face peered in from the driver’s window.

“Do not get outta this car,” said Parker.

He reached for the door, but before he could open it, it was opened for him. “Inside,” ordered a young, baby-faced white man.

A handgun peeked from the front of his waistband.

The dark water of the bay lapped ominously against the wood of the boathouse as they followed Parker and two young men through

a black door, one that looked incongruously new. The dimly lit interior looked nothing like John had expected, and perhaps

John himself wasn’t who or what anyone else had been expecting, because the grim, thick-jawed man who’d answered the door

looked as shocked and afraid as anyone would after having seen a ghost. It made John feel better; he was reminded that these

were men, only men, and he’d be able to use himself as some kind of leverage. But then they were brought to stand before a

white wisp of a man seated at a table, and he, hands clasped and not even blinking when he caught sight of John’s diminished

form, looked like someone who saw ghosts every day.

He also looked like the grown version of John’s childhood bully.

“Rockwell,” Parker said, his voice wavering.