Friends of her own. She should be allowed to have them. I should encourage her to do just that. I wanted her to be happy. So why did I feel like she’d just kicked me? “I don’t like it, either. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t expect you to drop everything and come running when I call.”
“I should know that you wouldn’t reach out if it wasn’t important. I’m just glad neither of you were hurt.” Then, she frowned. “Kevin wasn’t hurt, was he?”
“No, but I am totally convinced the ghost was sent for him.”
“Who would do something like that?”
I shrugged. “No idea. He says he hasn’t been in contact with any spirits other than you, so the only thing we could think of was that maybe it had something to do with Haven Crest and Bent.”
“No one I know at Haven Crest would do something like that.”
I arched a brow. “Know a lot of Haven Crest ghosts, do you?” No, I didn’t sound like a jealous cow at all.
“A few.” Her expression was defensive. “It’s different there, now that Bent is gone. The entire place is much happier.”
Happy ghosts. That made no freaking sense to me. Other than Wren, I don’t think I’d ever met a ghost with any joy in their un-life. Ghosts were generally ghosts because there was some kind of terrible emotion they clung to in death, keeping them trapped here.
“Well, maybe a few of them that you haven’t met are unhappy that Bent got snuffed.”
She scowled. “If that were the case, you’d think they’d come after you. You did the most damage, after all.”
“I wasn’t the one that ended Bent,” I reminded her. “And I said they were unhappy, not stupid.” I mean, really. If a ghost came after me, there was a really good chance I was going to hurt it, track it down and torch its mortal remains. Kind of like what we planned to do with Woodstock.
Maybe he was stupid after all. Or maybe he figured we’d never find him.
Or, my paranoid brain whispered, Woodstock’s got someone way more powerful watching over him.
Yeah, didn’t want to think about that.
“Anyway, Gage has patient records that Kevin and I are going to look through. Ben’s coming over later to help. Hopefully we’ll find a photo of the ghost and figure out what he’s up to.”
“And if you don’t?”
I sighed at the edge in her voice. “Look, what’s up with you defending Haven Crest all of a sudden?” Oh, shit. “Was Noah an inm—a patient, or did he work there?”
Wren looked down, pretending to pick lint off her shirt. News flash—ghosts don’t pick up lint. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You don’t know, do you?” How the hell could she not know? Yes, girls got involved with psycho guys all the time and didn’t know it, but when you met a guy at a freaking lunatic asylum you should at least freaking ask if he listed the place as his home address!
“I knew you’d do this!” she blurted, pointing a finger at me. “I knew you wouldn’t even give him a chance. You think all ghosts are monsters!”
I almost shouted that all ghosts were monsters, but I caught myself. “If I’d met Ben at Bell Hill, wouldn’t you have wondered whether or not he was nuts?”
Now she was the one crackling with energy, her hair standing out. She was pissed. And for once, my main concern wasn’t calming her down.
“If you lose it in our grandmother’s house I will kick your ass,” I warned her, while at the same time part of me itched for a good fight. “Every time something you don’t like happens you almost manifest. Get. It. Together.”
And she did. For maybe a split second I thought we were going to go at it—which was just plain weird. Really, if Halloween didn’t come and go soon I didn’t know what was going to happen. Wren and I were never like this with each other. Sure, we got pissed, but not like this.
“Noah is nice,” she informed me, a little petulantly, but her hair and eyes were normal, so I’d take it as a win.
“I’m glad,” I replied, swallowing a smart-ass reply. “Do you remember Melanie at Bell Hill?”
She nodded, but from the sour look on her face, I knew she had an idea where this was going.
“Mel was nice, too—until she wasn’t. I don’t want to see you get hurt. And I bet Noah doesn’t want to hurt you either, but he’s still here for a reason.”
Another stiff nod. She really didn’t like me much at the moment, but at least she listened to what I had to say.
And if she didn’t act on it, I would. How many teenagers named Noah could have been admitted to Haven Crest in the late nineteenth century?
“You didn’t give me much of a chance to meet him,” I said, using a different tactic. “You just threw him at me.”
“I knew you wouldn’t like him.”
“Why wouldn’t I like him? Because he’s a ghost? That’s stupid. If you like him and he’s good to you, I’ll like him, too. I’d like the chance to actually talk to him.” And maybe ask a few questions of my own.
Wren met my gaze, a hopeful expression on her face that made me instantly guilty. “Really?”
I nodded. “Really.” I did not push my luck by suggesting a double date. “Is he going to be at the concert?”