I parked on River Street, snagging a prime spot near where the Cora Ann was docked, and the sedan rolled past, casual as you please.
The walk down to the river was peaceful this time of night, but the boat herself thrummed with activity. As I crossed the gangway, I pulled the necklace from my shirt and rubbed my thumb over the button like Oscar was a genie to be summoned from his lamp. “Have at it, kid. Keep the action PG, though.”
“You’re funny.” The small boy zoomed around me in dizzying circles. “I won’t hurt nobody. Promise.”
And then he was gone, off to harmlessly prank the crew for a few hours.
While I might not win any Mother of the Year awards for encouraging his shenanigans, I had a thriving, well-adjusted ghost boy, and that’s all that mattered to me. He deserved happiness after so many years of loneliness, and if he enjoyed blowing in people’s ears to watch them jump and slamming doors to hear them scream, who was I to tell him no?
Plus, I figured faking a haunting was the least I could do for Cricket after all the second chances she had given me. And, I’ll admit, I was hoping the incontrovertible proof of a ghost onboard would clear my name with Mr. Voorhees and the crew in time for me to snag one of the coveted hostess spots for the launch party. After shedding my blood, sweat, and tears for this boat, I had more than earned the chance to revive Blue Belle.
No one called out a welcome as I crossed the gangway, but I had given up on the crew accepting me. All but a handful believed I was responsible for Marit’s near-fatal injury, and there was nothing I could do to convince them otherwise when they wouldn’t stand still long enough for me to defend myself.
“Hey, Trouble.” Marit waved down at me from her throne, a cracked plastic lawn chair her father had placed near the second deck railing where she could help oversee demo. She had twisted her brown hair into a tight bun, and her bangs swept across her forehead. She tapped a clipboard against the vibrant red birthmark covering her chin and lower jaw, concealing where it spilled down the front of her throat. “Come on up.”
These days my calves barely burned at the climb. I had jogged the stairs too many times. When I approached the queen of the night shift, I gave her a subtle once-over. “How are you feeling, my liege?”
“Will you stop that?” Marit flushed until her cheeks matched the wine-colored birthmark. “You know this was all Papa’s idea. He won’t let me go to the bathroom without an escort these days.”
I dropped my jacket and gear at her feet to collect after my shift ended.
“You shouldn’t be at work period.” I tsked at her. “Your thigh is still wrapped up like a mummy.”
“I pulled a few stitches,” she admitted, her blush deepening. “Papa forgot to leave me with the remote on his way to work yesterday, and one of those Humane Society ads came on. I ran to the TV to change the channel before the waterworks started, but I tore something in the process. Papa was not amused to come home and find me sitting in yet another puddle of blood.”
“Those ads are intense,” I allowed, “but maybe put a pillow over your face or plug your ears instead?”
“Hindsight.” She dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “I wrote them a big, fat check. Maybe next time the guilt won’t force me to sprint into action to alleviate the sad.”
As usual, it was just the two of us on the upper deck. No one else wanted to risk bumping into Oscar. I swept my gaze over the hot mess of dining room that was starting to take shape then back at Marit. “What’s on the agenda tonight, boss?”
“Finish the wallpaper near the restrooms, sweep up, and then you can start priming the floor.” She pointed a finger at me. “Watch out for nails, bolts, and other pokeys. You’ve had your tetanus shot?”
“I have, and I will.” I located the toolbox I had taken to leaving onboard and popped the lock to give me access to my battered work gloves and tools. “Watch my gear, your highness.”
Showing her highness, she used her middle finger to wipe imaginary dust from her eye.
Without Taz wearing me down prior to my shift, I had ridiculous amounts of energy as I ripped, scraped, swept, and painted. Falling into the soothing routine, I turned off my brain and let the work carry me away from my troubles. All too soon it was time to pack it up and go home, which meant facing Marit.
“You’re smiling mighty big.” Marit squinted at me. “Spill. You got plans with that hot blond tonight?”
“Nah. Boaz is out of town.” I could still smell his cologne on the pillow he’d slept on, and I missed him already. “But I need to ask a favor.” I gripped the railing, surprised by how much her answer meant to me, how much I wanted this. “I need the next three days off.”
“Hmm.” She leaned back, elbows on armrests, and steepled her fingers. “Going somewhere?”
“Atlanta.”
“That’s all I get?” She tapped her fingertips against her lips. “How can I make such an important decision with so little information?”
“You are a tyrant.” I picked at the chipped paint under my palm. “I’m going to tour a university campus.”
Her jaw hung open. “You’re moving?”
“No.” Sweat beaded along my spine just thinking about trading in Woolly for a sterile dorm room. “I have a friend who teaches there. He’s going to show me around.”
A wicked smile curved her lips. “A friend who isn’t Boaz?”
“Linus is a friend of the family.” No, that wasn’t exactly right. “We grew up together.” I winced when a dried shard slipped under my nailbed. “We’re practically cousins.”
“Kissing cousins?”
“We’re not blood related.” I cast her a withering glare. “He’s my adoptive mother’s sister’s son.”
“Interesting.” The cadence of her tapping increased. “So is that a yes to the kissing?”
A burst of heat spiked my nape when I realized my mistake. “There has been no kissing.”
Except my lips on his cheek, and even that had short-circuited his brain long enough that I worried about oxygen deprivation killing off hundreds of thousands of his billion brain cells.
“It’s short notice, no notice, really, but I can spare you for three days.” She nudged my calf with the tip of her boot. “But I want pics of this ‘cousin’ and updates so I can live vicariously.”
“Deal.” We shook on it. “I would have asked sooner, but he didn’t invite me until yesterday.”
“In that case, tell him he sucks.” A flick of her wrist dismissed me. “Go on. You don’t have much time to pack.”
“I’ll text you your first payment before we leave.” Not that I was looking for excuses to sneak pictures of Linus, but the opportunity had presented itself. I scooped up my gear and tucked it under my arm. “Take it easy.”
“Like I’ve got a choice,” she grumbled. “Party in my name, okay? Drink until your eyes cross.”
The only spirits we would encounter were of the undead variety, but I shot her a thumbs-up all the same. “Will do.”
Nine
I made a pit stop at Mallow on my way home, figuring it was the least I could do since Amelie couldn’t buy for herself, but Cletus stopped me in the parking lot with a gnarled hand on my shoulder. I was about to ask what his deal was when I spotted the issue sitting at my usual table with ruler-straight posture, wearing a pensive expression and a cream pantsuit with black beading in geometric patterns.
A prickle of unease raised the hairs down my arms, but it’s not like Eloise could have followed me from work since she beat me here. Maybe sweet teeth ran in the family. This could still be a coincidence.
“She’s not going to assault me in public,” I assured the wraith. “She probably wants to talk.”
Cletus moaned a rattling warning, but he released me.
“I’m not going to approach her. I’m going to the counter, placing my order, and then I’m going home.”