Ghostly Envy (Ghostly Envy Series,

Book 3) E.M. Leya

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GHOSTLY ENVY
 GHOSTLY ENVY
COPYRIGHT
© 2023 by E.M. Leya
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by
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and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or author. Requests for
permission to copy part of this work for use in an educational environment may be directed to the
author.
This book is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or real locales are used
fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination,
and any resemblance to actual events or persons or locales, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

Cover Art by: Annabella Stone

Editor: Crowder Editing
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EPILOGUE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALSO AVAILABLE FROM E.M. LEYA
 CHAPTER ONE

Lance sipped his morning coffee as he watched Bethany and Ray sitting outside on his patio. The
two ghosts were silent, which probably meant they were still listening to the audiobook that Lance
had set up for them the night before.
It was a good thing that Bethany enjoyed them as much as Ray did since Ray went through several
books a week now that he didn't have to read over people's shoulders or ask them to turn a page in a
book for him.
Living with ghosts was always interesting, but over the last few weeks, they'd fallen into a
comfortable routine. The ghosts spent most of their time outside which gave Lance a chance to enjoy
the solitude of the house and spend evenings with his boyfriend, Detective Angus Young.
He still had to smile when he thought of Angus being named after a famous rock star. Now that
they'd been dating so long, he found the name fit him, but it was still fun to see people's reactions
when he introduced him.
His life had been so crazy since his accident earlier in the year. Other than an occasional
migraine, the only lasting effect Lance had from it was the ability to see and hear ghosts. He'd thought
at first he was losing his mind, but now, after meeting others with his ability and having spent time
with numerous ghosts, it was becoming a way of life for him.
Thankfully, Angus understood his ability because Angus's mother had the same talent. She'd been
seeing ghosts since she was born and was now able to help Lance work his way through handling
things now that he could see them as well. He didn't want to think of where he might be if she hadn't
helped him understand his gift. He'd thought he was losing his mind when he saw and heard his first
ghost.
Lance glanced at the time and took the last sip of his coffee before going over to the sink and
rinsing his cup. Angus was picking him up in five minutes to go help Detective Franks find a new
house. Lance was surprised to be asked to go with them, but he wasn't going to turn down a day with
Angus. House hunting would be fun, and he might get some ideas to update his own as they walked
through others.
He stuck his head out the back door. "You two need me to start another book? I'm about to leave."
He laughed as both Bethany and Ray jumped at the sound of his voice.
"We're good. We are going to go to the zoo today and see that new baby tiger that was born. We
should be back around dinner," Ray told him.
Ray was a ghost who had died back in the nineteen-twenties. He was around thirty when he died
and still appeared as he had at the time, wearing clothing from the era. He was seldom without his
newsboy hat. Lance loved hearing stories about all the things Ray had seen over the years. The ghost
had traveled a lot of the world, going undetected on flights and trains, or sneaking rides in unknowing
vehicles as they crossed the country.
Bethany was a more recently deceased ghost. She'd died horrifically at the hands of a serial
killer that Angus had put in prison recently. It was only because of Bethany's help in identifying the
man that they'd caught him. She'd decided to stick around after meeting Ray and finding some kind of
connection with him. Lance wasn't sure how romance worked for ghosts, but he was happy the two
found pleasure in each other's company. It was good to know that love didn't stop when you died, and
that if you didn't find your soulmate while alive, you still had the chance after you died. He was happy
to have them around and share the house with him.
"Have a good time. I don't know how long we'll be out, but Angus will be here for dinner. You
guys need a ride?"
"We're good. We'll find someone going that way. Thanks for the offer though." Ray smiled.
"Enjoy the day." He waved, then shut the door and locked the sliding door leading to the
backyard. The ghosts could get in if they wanted, but he guessed they'd be gone longer than he would.
He made his way through the house and to the front door. He'd just opened it as Franks pulled up in
the driveway.
Lance hurried to shut and lock the front door, then made his way down to the car. He climbed into
the back seat, excited about the outing. "Morning."
"Morning. Thanks for going with us." Franks glanced at him in the rear-view mirror as he backed
out of the driveway.
"Thanks for inviting me." Lance liked Franks. He was a little older than him. He guessed him to
be in his late thirties to early forties. He was gruff and said what was on his mind. He worked with
Angus as a police detective, and the two seemed to work well together. Especially now that Angus
had admitted to Franks that his mother and Lance could see ghosts, and those ghosts had been helping
him solve cases.
"I'm still not sure I'm doing the right thing buying." Franks sighed.
"It's better than throwing money away on rent. At least you'll have something to show for your
money now. Having your own space that no one else can tell you what to do with is nice. I have no
regrets about buying mine," Angus told him.
"Other than you're never home," Franks pointed out.
"It's not always that way. Work's kept us busy, and I do spend a lot of time at Lance's now, but it's
the same thing, we have Lance's place to ourselves. We don't have to worry about people upstairs
banging on the floor or the kids next door screaming," Angus said.
"Just ghosts in the backyard." Lance laughed.
"We hardly notice them." Angus grinned back at him. "Think of all the things you can do with
your own place. You can paint and remodel it how you like it. You can sit in the backyard, sip your
coffee, grow a garden, or work out in the garage. Right now, your apartment is so small it's two steps
from the bathroom to the kitchen."
"I like the idea of the garage. I've been keeping my dirt bike in storage. I can drop the storage
payment and move everything to the house, which will save me close to two hundred dollars a month.
I know it all makes sense, it's just such a huge investment." Franks turned into a neighborhood.
"I don't regret it for a minute. Buying my home was life-changing. I can't imagine having to deal
with apartment living again." Lance looked around the neighborhood they'd turned into. "Is it close?"
"Yeah, just up ahead. We're meeting the realtor there," Franks told them. "I'm only looking at
places within fifteen minutes of work. I want a short commute."
"This is a nice area. If I remember right, Cel's son lives somewhere around here." Lance thought
about the ghost he'd met a while back who had become a good friend.
"Have you talked to her lately?" Angus asked.
"She dropped by two days ago to visit. She's having a hard time. Misses the kids now that they're
living in Arizona. She's gone down a few times to see them but is considering moving down there so
she can be around them all the time. She just hates to leave her son."
"You're talking about a ghost, right? Wasn't Cel that famous chef that was teaching you how to
cook?" Franks asked.
"Yep, that's her." Lance nodded.
"So it's not like the kids or her son know she's there, right?" Franks asked.
"No, they don't know, but she still likes being there for them in her own way." Lance shrugged.
"I don't understand why she doesn't move on. If I died, the last thing I'd want to do is hang around
here longer. I want to see what's next." Franks parked behind a newer model pickup.
"I can't say what I'd do. I get why Cel wants to hang around, especially to help see the kids
through the divorce." Angus unlatched his seat belt.
"But she can't help them. They can't see or talk to her. That's what makes no sense to me. Why put
yourself through that?" Franks sighed. "Enough ghost talk. I don't want my realtor to think I'm insane."
"I like this place. It needs a fresh coat of paint, and the yard could use some work, but it looks
like a nice home. How many bedrooms are you looking for?" Lance climbed out of the car.
"Three. One guest room and an office. I don't see myself ever getting married, so as long as I
have a place for guests to crash if they visit, I'm happy. This one has four bedrooms and two and a
half bathrooms. It was in my price range and close to work, so I figured why not give it a look."
Franks led them up the walk to the small front porch.
The realtor had the door open and was standing just inside. "Come on in. Good to see you,
Franks. I'm glad you brought a few friends. It's always good to get other opinions. They might see
something you miss." The twenty-something man shook Franks' hand, then turned to Angus and Lance
and shook theirs. "I'm Chris Walton. I'll be here to answer any questions you have." He looked at
Franks. "Want the guided tour or just to look around first?"
"Do you mind if we just look around for a bit?" Franks turned into a large living room.
"Not at all. I'll be in the kitchen working on some paperwork. Just yell if you have questions or
need something." He quickly left them to wander.
"I like it when they don't follow you around, breathing down your neck." Angus smiled.
"Me too." Franks looked around. "The living room is bigger than my whole apartment."
"You could finally get that big T.V. you've been looking at." Angus ran a hand over the fireplace
mantel. "And think of the nice fire you could build here on those cold winter nights."
"Maybe with a date," Lance added.
"I'd have to find one first," Franks grumbled.
"Maybe if you'd go out with us when we invite you." Angus moved to the next room. "Dining
room, but you could make this into an office if you wanted to and save the extra bedroom."
"Maybe. God knows I don't have plans on needing a formal dining area." Franks followed him in.
"Nice chandelier though."
"I'm surprised the previous owner didn't take it." Lance looked up at the light.
"That's a lot of pieces to wash and keep dusted," Franks moaned.
"With the money you're saving, you can hire someone to come in once a week and clean." Angus
moved to the kitchen.
"All new appliances in here." Chris leaned against the counter.
"You could actually cook in here." Angus opened a cupboard.
"Because I cook so often." Franks rolled his eyes.
"I know someone who can teach you." Lance grinned.
"Hush." Franks glared at him. "I have no desire to learn. But I do like the room. I can actually
bend over to take something out of the oven without bumping into the counter. I can barely turn around
in my current kitchen."
 "Imagine the bathrooms. You'll actually have room in them to do more than shit and soak." Angus
investigated the pantry.
"Soak? Who gets to soak? I have a shower. No tub." Franks nudged Angus out of the way so he
could look inside the pantry. "Hell, I could store almost a year's worth of food in here."
"There's a small hot tub out back you can enjoy," Chris pointed out.
"Now I'm listening. But let me look upstairs first before I head out back and get tempted by that.
If I don't like the upstairs, I'm not going to go out back and see what I'm walking away from." Franks
turned and headed for the stairs.
Lance followed, going up the stairs, imagining what he would do with the place if it was his. Not
that he didn't love the house he was in, but it was fun to fantasize. One thing he loved about his home
was it was a single-level. He didn't have to climb stairs to get to the bedroom. His washer and dryer
were in the basement, but that's the only time he had to do the stairs. He hoped as he grew old in his
home, he'd be glad he didn't have to climb.
"Wow, I love the size of these bedrooms. This is a guest room and it's twice the size of the one in
my apartment." Franks went in and opened the closet.
"You said there are four bedrooms?" Angus asked.
"Yeah, three up here and one in the basement. There's also a finished living room downstairs, and
a half bath, along with laundry and storage," Franks told them.
Lance wandered to the window to look outside. He smiled seeing a young girl sitting on the
swing set. "Looks like the neighbor's kid likes your swing set," Lance commented as he watched the
girl.
"What?" Franks walked over and looked out. "Why do you think the kids like it?"
"Because that girl is swinging. She's not really young. Looks like maybe a teenager. Maybe she's
been meeting her boyfriend in your yard since the house has been empty."
"Where?" Franks looked back and forth across the yard.
"Right there on the swing." Lance pointed.
"I don't see her." Franks sounded confused.
"Um, Lance, neither do I. Are you sure someone is there?" Angus asked as he looked down into
the yard as well.
Lance narrowed his eyes as he tried to get a better look at the girl that was clear as day to him.
"Do you see the swing moving? The one beside the slide?"
"Yeah, it's blowing in the wind, right?" Franks nodded.
"If it's the wind, why isn't the other swing moving?" Angus pointed out.
Franks stepped back, his face going pale. "What are you saying? That this house is haunted?"
"If you don't see her and I do, she has to be a ghost. I just can't see the shimmer from up here. She
could live in the neighborhood. You don't know that she lives here." Lance gripped Franks' shoulder.
"You okay?"
"Go find out. Find out if she lives here. I don't want to move into a haunted house." Franks shook
his head, his eyes wide with worry, his complexion going pale. "I can't handle that."
"Seriously?" Lance asked.
"Yeah, go talk to her. Make sure she doesn't live here." Franks' voice shook.
"Easy, Lance will find out. I'm sure if she's been staying here, we can ask her to move on. She
can go live with Lance and Ray," Angus teased.
"She can't be more than sixteen or so." Lance shrugged. "I'll go down, but you come up with a
reason to explain to your relator why I'm out back talking to myself. I left my phone in your car."
 "I'll handle Chris." Franks stepped out of the room. "Chris, can you come up? I have a few
questions."
"Sure," Chris called back, then started up the steps.
As soon as Chris got upstairs, Lance went down. He made his way to the kitchen, then opened the
sliding glass door off to the side and stepped out into the yard. He kept his eye on the young girl as he
made his way toward the swing.
As he got closer, she stopped swinging.
Afraid she'd disappear on him, Lance smiled. "Hi, I'd like to talk if you have a minute."
"You can see me?" She looked shocked.
Now that he was closer, he could see the shimmer around her that told him she wasn't living. "I
can. It's a gift I have." Lance nodded to the other swing. "Mind if I sit?"
The girl shrugged. She had long brown hair, with the same mocha-colored eyes. Her pale skin
appeared even paler against the black yoga pants and turtleneck she wore. "How can you see me?"
"I'm not sure. I was in an accident a few months back and when I woke up, I could suddenly
speak to those who haven't moved on. I'm told there aren't many around who can, but I know I'm not
the only one." He nodded to the house. "You live here?"
She shook her head. "I used to, but my parents moved out a few weeks ago. I stay with them, but I
like coming back here. I come here to think and remember. Are you looking to buy the house?"
"My friend is."
"It's a good house. At least it was until I died. After that, it was sad. Mom cried all the time."
"I'm sorry about that. It's hard to let go. Especially for a parent." He thought of Cel and how she
still wanted to be such a part of her son's and grandkids' lives. "I'm Lance."
"Shelia." She smiled.
"How long have you been dead?"
"Almost a year. It will be a year in January." She sighed.
"Why didn't you go into the light?" Lance asked.
"You know about the light? What's in the light?" She stared at him with an almost desperate look
in her eyes.
"I don't know. I've only been told about it by other ghosts. None of them know what's in it. They
say it's peaceful and they think it's the doorway to Heaven. I honestly don't know." He wished he had
answers for her. "It doesn't draw you to it?"
"Yeah, I feel it pulling me toward it, but before I go, I want to find out who killed me."
Lance froze. "Someone killed you? Do the police know?"
"They know I'm missing. They assume I ran away or something. But my parents think I'm dead.
They know I didn't take anything with me. If I'd run away, I would have packed a bag. Cleaned out my
bank account. Stuff like that." She kicked her feet and started to swing again. "I've tried to tell them
where my body is, but no one can hear me." Her eyes widened. "You can tell them. You can tell my
parents where I am."
Lance held up a hand. "Whoa. Easy. It's not that simple. If I try to do that, they're going to think
I'm crazy, and if they do for some reason believe me and find your body, they'll think I had something
to do with it. I can't just tell them you're here telling me everything. Nobody would believe me."
Her shoulders sank and she sighed.
"But that doesn't mean I won't help. Those two guys I'm here with, the ones still inside looking at
the house, they're detectives. They both know I see ghosts. We can talk to them and figure out a way to
bring your body back so your parents can bury you. You said you know where your body is, right?"
 She nodded. "I don't know what the place is called, but I know how to get there."
"That's all we need." He smiled. "How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
"Young to die."
"I know. I wish I knew why. I don't understand why anyone would want to hurt me. I mean, I
guess they didn't really kill me. I woke up where my body is and couldn't get out. I ended up starving
to death," Shelia told him.
Lance cringed. "Not a pleasant way to die."
"No, it's not." Shelia kept kicking her legs to swing.
"It's too late to do anything today, but I'd like to talk to you more. It's hard here because it looks
like I'm talking to myself if anyone looks out their window. Would you be willing to come back to my
place for a bit and tell me everything you remember? Then we can also plan a way to discover your
body without making anyone look guilty. I have two other ghosts who live with me that you might like
to meet."
"They live with you?"
Lance laughed. "They do. Ray's sort of become my best friend. He died over a hundred years
ago. He kicks back at my place with his girlfriend. She died just a few months ago. She helped us
solve her murder."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"I am. I know it sounds crazy, but it's all true. If you'd rather, we can arrange to meet somewhere
else. I can bring stuff to make it look like I'm on a hands-free call." Lance didn't want to press her to
go with him, but he did want to find out more about her and her death.
She hesitated a minute, then glanced at him. "I can go with you, but could you take me home later?
I like staying with my parents at their new place."
"Sure, that's not a problem at all. Did they move far?"
"Not too far. The other side of town."
"Might be close to where I am. I'll take you home tonight. Promise. And once you know where I
live, you can drop by anytime."
"What about them?" She gestured to the house.
"Franks is looking for a house to buy. We'll give him time to look around. Once we leave, just
hop into the back seat of his car with us. I'll be able to see you, but they won't. We'll explain
everything to them once we're in the car. I'll have him drive me home and they can go back out looking
at other homes if they want."
"Is he a nice guy? Will he take care of my home if he buys it?" She looked sadly at the house
she'd lived in.
"He is a good man. Single, works a lot but wants something more than his tiny apartment. I think
this would be a good home for him, but he's the one who has to decide. Right now, he's a bit scared
that you're haunting it. Once he knows you don't stay here, he'll be okay. But he may want to look at a
few other places before he decides."
She nodded.
"He might want to ask you about the house or the neighborhood. Would you be okay with that?"
Lance asked.
"Sure." She shrugged.
"Okay, let me head back inside. When we come out to leave, just climb into the car. We'll figure
out some way to get your body, and if we're lucky, maybe even figure out who killed you." He stood
and gave her a smile. "One quick question. How do you make the swing move?"
She shrugged. "I'm not sure. I guess my energy pushes it. I've never thought much about it. When I
sat down the first time, it didn't occur to me that I couldn't swing now. It is kind of strange, isn't it?"
"It's interesting. But then the fact I can see you makes no sense. I should just stop wondering
about things. I'll see you in a few."
"Thanks." She continued to swing.
"Glad to help." He wished he could hug her. She looked so alone sitting on that swing. Way too
young to be facing all she had. He hoped they'd be able to help her. He wasn't sure how they'd pull off
finding another body, but if anyone could figure out how to do it, Angus and Franks could. He made
his way back into the house, sure his day of house hunting was done. He now had a ghost to help.
 CHAPTER TWO
Angus glanced up as Lance walked back into the house. They'd been down in the basement,
talking about the water heater and furnace when Lance had joined them. He smiled. "Call go okay?"
"Yeah, it went well." Lance glanced at Franks. "Nothing to worry about."
Franks relaxed.
"Just one favor. Something has come up. Do you think you could drop me back at home before
you go out and look at any more houses?" Lance asked Franks.
"Sure, that won't be a problem. Chris just got a call that the house we were headed to see is no
longer for sale and we can't get into the other one until tomorrow," Franks said. "Honestly, I love this
house, but I feel like a fool for jumping on the first one I see. I feel like I should look around a bit
more just to make sure."
"Take the afternoon and think about it. I'll see if I can line up a few other homes to look at
tomorrow. If you still like this one, then we'll make an offer." Chris turned and they walked back into
the large basement living room.
"I see a pool table in here." Angus grinned.
"Good luck helping me get it down the stairs." Franks laughed.
"Good luck paying for one on a detective's salary," Angus added.
"No shit." Franks sighed. "Still, I can see myself spending more time down here than upstairs. I
really love this space."
Lance looked around. "The house is amazing. If I didn't already have a place, I'd be interested. I
was looking at the yard out back and you've got a lot more yard than I do out there. You could do a lot
with it. Though I would fence it off for more privacy."
"Yeah, I thought about that as well. Can we go see the garage?" Franks asked.
"Sure." Chris headed up the stairs.
Angus lingered in the basement with Lance. "Well?"
"She used to live here. Moved when her parents bought a new place. She comes back to sit and
remember. Said it's quiet and peaceful." Lance paused, then sighed. "But she asked me to help her
parents find her body. I won't go into the whole story right now, she's coming back to my place to talk,
but she was murdered. Police think she's a runaway. She just wants closure for her parents and to
know who killed her."
"Not another body we have to explain finding." Angus sighed. "How are we going to do this?"
"I'm not sure. Let's find out where it is located before we worry about it. Maybe we'll get lucky
and it will be easy to find." Lance glanced upstairs. "Are we telling Franks about this?"
"Yeah, no point in hiding it." Angus wasn't sure how Franks would react, but he needed his
partner to understand and get used to this part of his life. "He can decide whether he wants to hang out
and hear her story or go home and leave it to us." Angus started up the stairs. "I really like this home.
I hope he decides to buy it."
"Me too." Lance followed him up the stairs.
As Angus wandered through the kitchen and into the living room to where Franks was talking to
Chris, he tried to remember back to any of his old cases that involved a missing girl. He couldn't think
of any. But then again, he worked in homicide. If the police thought the girl was a runaway, the case
wouldn't have crossed his desk. He needed to get the ghost's name so he could pull her file and
research her case. He assumed like most runaway cases, not much had been done. Finding her dead
would be a blotch on the police department, but there was nothing he could do about that. It was a fact
that most missing teenagers ended up being runaways. He couldn't blame anyone for thinking that.
Still, he needed to read the case and get the facts and information before judging anyone on how the
case was handled.
"I'll call you in the morning and confirm everything." Chris offered a hand to Franks. "If you have
any questions, please feel free to call me this afternoon."
"Thank you." Franks shook his hand then turned to Lance and Angus. "I'll buy lunch if you want."
"Deal." Angus smiled. "But we'll have to get takeout. Lance needs to get home and if you have
time, he could use our help with something."
Franks frowned. "With what?"
"We'll explain once we're in the car." Lance turned and headed out the door.
Angus followed. He didn't want Franks pushing for more information with Chris standing there.
Franks unlocked the car for them as he followed them out. Once he slid into the car, he glanced
back at Lance and narrowed his eyes. "Tell me this doesn't have to do with the girl you saw outside."
Lance smiled and gestured to the empty space in the back seat beside him. "I'd like you both to
meet Shelia. She used to live in the home you're thinking about buying."
"You said it wasn't haunted." Franks glared at him.
"It's not. Shelia was just enjoying the backyard. She stays with her parents at their new home. As
far as I saw, there are no ghosts in your house," Lance told him, then looked over to the empty space
for a moment before nodding. "Shelia says she hasn't seen any other ghosts in the whole
neighborhood."
"That's a relief." Franks sighed.
"It's nice to meet you, Shelia. I'm Angus. I can't see or hear you and neither can Franks, but Lance
is used to telling us when you're speaking with us." Angus spoke directly to the spot where Shelia had
to be sitting.
"She says nice to meet both of you, but if she's interrupting our day she can go," Lance told them,
then shook his head at her. "You're not interrupting. We're done for today. We're going to grab some
lunch and head back to my place so you can tell us about what happened to you. We want to help.
We'll eat while you explain everything."
"Head to that chicken place near the station. Chicken okay with everyone?" Angus asked.
"Good for me." Lance nodded.
"Yeah, sounds good." Franks started the car and pulled onto the road.
Angus noticed Franks kept staring into the back seat as if he thought he might suddenly see Shelia.
It would take time for him to get used to having ghosts around. Angus was already used to it since his
mother had been seeing and talking to ghosts since she was born. It had been common for Angus
growing up to walk into the house and find his mother talking to someone he couldn't see.
Lance and Shelia made small talk as Franks drove. Angus half listened as he talked about his job
and things he'd had happen since first seeing ghosts. Franks still glanced back nervously from time to
time.
"It gets easier," Angus told Franks.
"How do you know he's really talking to someone and not just pulling your chain?" Franks kept
his voice low.
"Trust." Angus shrugged. "What reason would he have to lie to us?"
"I don't know. Maybe he just wants to play a joke on me."
 "Lance isn't that way. He takes this too seriously. Look at everything we've been through. When
you're talking about death and murder, it's not a joking matter. You'll just have to trust him until the
things she tells us concerning her case start proving true. Once that starts happening, you won't doubt.
You can't deny it when the ghosts tell you stuff we couldn't already know." It made him angry that
Franks would think Lance would play a joke like that. He hoped Lance hadn't heard the conversation
since he seemed to still be talking to Shelia.
"Sorry, it's just so hard to believe. Even after everything I've seen, I still struggle with believing
it all. Let's drop the subject. Tell me what you think about the house. Did you like it?"
"I did. I agree you'd need to fence in the yard for privacy and security, but the house itself is
amazing. The garage is huge. More than enough room for your car and dirt bike. It's a lot of house for
one person, but so is mine. I don't use half the space I have, but I like having it should I need it. You
don't know what your future holds. You could meet a woman tomorrow and end up raising a family
there."
Franks arched a brow.
"You never know." Angus laughed. "One day you might want to settle down. Either way, you need
to get out of that tiny apartment. It's sucking the life out of you. All you do anymore is complain about
your neighbors. Think of how nice it will be to come home to your own space. Kick off your shoes,
turn on some boring movie, and nap on your couch."
"The cost of furnishing the home has to be considered too."
"You only need one bed for now. You can buy stuff slowly. It's not as if you need to rush out there
and furnish it tomorrow," Angus said.
"I have a few items stored in my garage you can have. There's a dresser, a few nightstands, and
an assortment of other things. You can look and see if you like them. They're from my old apartment,"
Lance said from the back seat.
"So you think I should buy the house?" Franks glanced back at Lance.
"It has to be your choice. You have to live there. I liked the place," Lance told him, then glanced
over to where Shelia was sitting. A moment later he glanced back at Franks. "Shelia wants to know if
you saw the attic."
"No, he didn't show that to me." Franks frowned. "What's up there?"
"Shelia says her dad made it into a library for her and her mom to use because they loved reading
so much. There are tons of bookshelves and they had bean bags and oversized pillows all over the
place. It's big enough to make into your office, but you have to watch so you don't hit your head. The
roof slants and there isn't a lot of standing space."
"Why didn't the relator show us that?" Angus wondered.
"I'm not sure. Maybe he didn't know it was there. It's not his listing. I found the house online and
he arranged for us to see it. Maybe we can go back tomorrow and check it out." Franks glanced into
the rearview mirror again. "What's the neighborhood like?"
Lance seemed to be listening to Shelia for a moment, then nodded. "She says it's quiet. The
neighbors to your left are nice. A couple with no kids. He's a doctor and she's an accountant. On the
other side is an older couple. They're both retired and travel a lot. The house behind you has three
kids who sneak over and use the swing, but they're good kids."
"If I buy the place, we could walk that swing into their yard. I have no use for it," Franks said.
"Shelia likes that idea. She said the kids would love it. They're all young, so they'd play on it all
the time," Lance told them.
"I'd end up fencing it in anyway. You guys are convincing me to just bite the bullet and buy it
without looking at other places." Franks tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Sleep on it tonight. You'll go see a couple of other places tomorrow, then you can say you
picked your favorite," Lance said. "I knew the moment I walked into mine I wanted it. It was about the
sixth house I walked through. I saw my yard and decided that was what I wanted. I also liked the fact
that there were no stairs. I wanted a home I could handle when I'm old and unable to take stairs as
easily as I can now. It was a blessing after my accident not to have to deal with climbing stairs as I
recovered."
"There is that. My knees aren't getting any younger." Franks sighed as he turned into the drive-thru
of the chicken place. "What does everyone want?"
After Franks had ordered, Angus glanced back at the empty space of the back seat. "Shelia, what
made your parents move?"
Lance listened and then looked at Angus. "She said that her mom wanted to get away from the
memories. After she died, her mom just kept crying. Her dad hoped that moving to a place where
Shelia hadn't lived might help her deal with her grief. It's hard on her mom because she is sure she's
dead, but everyone around keeps telling her to stay strong and that Shelia might come back. Most
agree that she just ran away. That's why she needs to help her parents find her body."
Franks frowned. "So you know where your body is and who killed you?"
Lance shook his head. "She doesn't know who killed her, but she does know where her body is.
She said she starved to death somewhere. We'll sit down and get the facts when we get to my place,
and we can write things down. I don't want her to have to go over things repeatedly."
Angus agreed. He wanted to write down all he could so that when he went to work and pulled up
the files, he could compare everything the police had found to what he'd been told. He took the bags
of food from Franks. "Have you had contact with other ghosts since you died?"
Lance listened, then glanced at Angus. "She says she met one, but he was headed out of state and
didn't stick around long. He helped her understand what she was and what she could do, but then left."
"You told her about Bethany and Ray?"
"I told her I had two ghosts living with me. They probably won't be there when we get back.
They were headed to the zoo today, but hopefully, they will get back before I drive her home." Lance
looked at Shelia. "I think you'll like Ray and Bethany."
Angus watched the road as Franks headed back to Lance's, wondering how all his days off
always seemed to end up with him working. He thought about the weekend he'd taken not long ago
with Lance to Galveston. That had been the perfect weekend. Not only had it been romantic and
relaxing, but it had brought him and Lance even closer. If only every weekend could be like that one.
Still, he was also glad that because of Lance's gift, he had the chance to help those who had died. Like
Shelia, Angus hoped they could give her family closure, and hopefully find closure for her so she
could move into the light. First, he had to hear her story, then they could get to work.
 CHAPTER THREE
Lance unwrapped his chicken sandwich as they all sat around the kitchen table. To his surprise,
Franks had stayed, wanting to hear Shelia's story. After the comment in the car he'd overheard with
Franks thinking he might be playing a joke on him, he hadn't thought Franks would stick around.
He wasn't upset about the comment. If he'd been told the same thing back before he could see
ghosts, he might have thought the same thing. It was hard to believe in something you couldn't see.
"Why don't you tell me your story and I'll translate it for the other two since they can't hear you?
We'll take notes and once you're done, we'll decide what we're going to do." Lance smiled at Sheila
who was sitting beside him at the kitchen table.
Shelia nodded. "I wish I knew more, but I'll tell you what I remember. I was home alone that
night. My parents had gone to Dallas to visit my grandmother. She was in the hospital after a heart
attack. It was a Friday night. I had a big test on Saturday morning and that's why I didn't go with my
parents. I wasn't worried about staying alone. I'd done it before a time or two. My parents had left on
Wednesday and were coming home Monday afternoon. I'd spent all my time studying anyway. The
highest test score would get this scholarship I wanted." She paused so Lance could repeat everything.
"What happened that night?" Franks asked.
"I don't remember a lot. I was studying and I fell asleep on the couch. At least I think I did
because I don't remember anything after I'd cooked a frozen pizza for dinner and while I was in the
living room. I remember getting the pizza and going to the couch. I ate some of the pizza because I
remember accidentally dropping a piece on my book and having to clean it off. But then I don't
remember anything else until I woke up in a deep hole, cold and scared."
Angus leaned forward after Lance had told them what she said. "You fell asleep at home and
woke up somewhere else?"
Her long hair had been braided down the back and bobbed as Shelia nodded. "I was on the couch
eating, then the next thing I know I woke up in the dirt. It was really dark, and I didn't know where I
was. I couldn't find a way out. When the sun came up, I could see I was in some kind of pit. I think it
might be an old mine, but I'm not really sure. It's just a big hole. It's to the west of here. I screamed
and screamed, but no one came. I think I was there about four days before I died. It was hard to tell. It
rained one day, and I got a little water that way, but it wasn't enough. I could have been unconscious
for a few days before I died. I was so cold and thirsty."
Lance made notes, his heart breaking for what the girl had to have gone through. He noticed
Angus doing the same. "You said you're seventeen?"
"Yeah, a senior at West Brook High. I would have graduated last May." She sighed. "I was so
focused on school and graduation but now, I wish I'd had more fun. Gone out with friends more and
not been so focused on my education."
"I want to pull the police reports from when you went missing. What's your full name?" Angus
asked.
"Shelia Rebecca Slathom. My parents are Kent and Linda Slathom. They just moved not very far
from here. They're over by the West Side Park."
"Did anyone know you were home alone that night?" Franks asked after Lance had repeated
things for them.
"Not that I can think of. My best friend knew. She'd come over earlier in the day to study. We
were both taking the test the next morning. There were only three of us who were up for this
scholarship from my school. Each high school in the district had a scholarship available. It was based
on all your grades through high school. The top students from each school would take the final test.
The three of us each had perfect grades, so it came down to the test scores. Whoever tested highest on
it would get the scholarship. It was for twenty thousand dollars. It was all I could focus on." Shelia
sighed. "Now I wish I'd gone with my parents to see my grandmother. Maybe I'd still be alive. But I
don't know who knew I was alone. I didn't talk to anyone but Kera and she left around three. I
remember looking at the clock on the stove and it was just after eight when I pulled the pizza from the
oven. Mom had called a bit before I got food to check in and let me know Grandma was doing okay.
They wished me good luck on my test and said they'd be home sometime on Monday."
Franks nodded after Lance repeated everything. "Keep going over that night in your mind. See if
you remember talking to anyone. Maybe another friend or a neighbor even. Did you run to the store
and tell anyone there your parents were out of town? Did anyone call the house?"
Lance nodded. "Someone had to know you were there. What I don't get is how you didn’t hear
them get into the house. You were eating, then not aware of them hitting you or knocking you out."
"I thought about that too. I wasn't hurt anywhere when I woke up. I was sleepy but didn't feel
anything like a sore spot where someone hit me in the head. My arm hurt and I think it might have been
broken, but I figured that was from when I was probably thrown in the hole." She shrugged. "I just
know I was on the couch and then I was suddenly waking up in the dirt."
"How far away is the location where your body is?" Angus asked.
"Maybe a half hour by car," Shelia told them. "You go down the freeway to that turnoff near the
racetrack, then take that road past the track to another turn and go a bit farther and I'm there."
"The Pits," Franks said once Lance told them what Shelia said. "It's that area just south of the
racetrack where kids go to drink and make out. There're some mines in that area. Nothing big. Deep
enough that you can't climb out. I wouldn't even really call them mines. It looks more like just random
digs people made hoping to find something and never did. They've been there for years. We used to
get called out there when I first joined the department and was still in uniform. The kids would run the
moment the police showed up. Every town has a place like it where the kids go drink."
"Wouldn't someone have seen her body while they were out there?" Lance asked.
"It would all depend on her location and where she was when she died. I haven't been out there
in years." Franks wiped his mouth. "I know there's a lot of dirt bike trails in the area. I have friends
who go out there quite a bit to ride."
"She died in January, so it was probably too cold then for the kids to be out drinking or anyone to
be dirt biking," Lance said as he crumpled his trash. "What made everyone think you ran away?"
"I don't know. Anyone who knew me knows I wouldn't do something like that, but the police said
they didn't have any evidence of foul play. The last time my parents went in to try and get them to do
more, they said they didn't have any proof something happened to me and that I'd probably been under
too much stress with school and had chosen to just leave." Shelia stood and started to pace. "I
wouldn't have done that. I was looking forward to college. I was excited about graduation. They
talked to my ex-boyfriend too and he told them I'd never run away. He knew how important college
was to me. That was why we broke up. He had a football scholarship to Oklahoma State, and I was
trying to get into a university back east. We knew we would be going our separate ways."
"Was he upset about the breakup?" Angus asked.
"No, not at all. We broke up months before I died, but we were still friends. We just had different
goals. I wanted him to have fun and I knew I kept him from hanging out with the guys and going to
parties because I was always so focused on school and my future. His life was football, and I never
did get into sports."
Lance repeated everything for the others, then looked at Shelia. "Did he know you were home
alone that night?"
She shook her head. "No. I hadn't talked to him in a few weeks outside of school. We talked in
some of our classes, but we hadn't called each other or hung out. It wasn't a bad breakup. We both just
chose to move on. It was what was best for both of us."
"What's his name?" Angus asked after hearing everything.
"Michael Fenton. He was the quarterback at my high school. I guess he'd already be in school in
Oklahoma now." Shelia appeared to lean against the kitchen counter.
"Okay, and your best friend is Kera. What's her last name?" Angus asked.
"Kera Jackson. She was planning on going to Baylor, but I don't think she went. I went to her
parents' home a while back and she was still living with them. I'm not sure why she didn't go away to
school like she planned. I know she didn't get the scholarship. Tim Clark was the third person up for
it and he tested higher than Kera on the test. I do know that because I went to my graduation and heard
people talking about it. Tim was our valedictorian." Shelia looked at Lance. "Are you guys going to
have to question everyone?"
Lance nodded. "Probably, but first we need to find a way to locate your body without it looking
suspicious."
"That's easy enough." Franks smiled. "I can take a day and go out dirt biking with some friends
and come across it if it's visible from above. I can set something up for tomorrow maybe. It's short
notice, but I think I can get a few guys to go out with me to make it look like I just came across the
body while out playing around."
Angus sighed. "First Lance and I find a body, now you. Isn't that going to be suspicious?"
"You got any better ideas?" Lance asked.
Franks shook his head. "Nada."
"Then we have to give it a try. But you're supposed to be house hunting tomorrow," Angus said.
"I'm scheduled to see the first house at eleven. I'll just call Chris tonight and tell him that's all I
have time for. I seriously am hooked on the house we saw today. I might just tell him to start the
process. I'll go look at this other one just to be sure and I can set up an afternoon of dirt biking with
Carlos and some of the other guys." Franks took a drink, then set it down. "Can you tell me exactly
where you are?"
"I think so." Shelia looked at Lance. "Can you draw a map from what I tell you?"
Lance nodded and reached for the notebook Angus had been using since it was bigger than his.
"She wants me to try and draw a map." He flipped to a new page and waited.
"Maybe I should draw what I remember of the area and from there she can show me where to
go?" Franks said.
"Sure, that might work better. I've never been out there." Lance slid the notebook across the table.
Shelia moved to sit down again. "What if this doesn't work?"
"We'll figure something else out," Lance promised. "It would be easier if you went with me to
show us where you are, but Angus and I recently found a bunch of bodies due to a ghost telling us
where to look. I think if we found another random body, it might make people start asking questions.
Don't worry. We'll figure this out. We have other options if this doesn't work." He glanced at Angus,
knowing that he would object to asking his mother to step in, but it was one clear way they could get
her body. If Shelia took Angus's mother out there, Lizzy could see and hear Shelia to find out where
she was. It was a last resort, but still an option.
"Okay, so here is what I remember of the place." Franks slid the notebook back over with a
drawing.
It wasn't art, but Lance understood what everything was on the paper. He nodded to Shelia.
"Does this look familiar?"
"Yeah, it does. I stayed out there a few days after I died, unsure if I should leave my body.
Finally, I decided to walk to the racetrack, and from there, I caught a ride with someone back into the
city." She pointed to an area on the map. "If you walk down this way about a mile or so, I'm in a pit
not far from the road."
"Here?" Lance pointed with the pencil.
"Yeah, close to there." Shelia nodded.
"That's where the kids go to drink. There's a clearing about here where they build bonfires. They
stuck to that side of the road because the other is rocky and full of pits and holes. Both man-made and
burrows from animals. There's a lot of snakes in that area too."
Shelia shivered. "I'm glad I never saw any of them."
Lance nodded. "I'm terrified of snakes. You won't get me out there." His fear of snakes was
severe. He hated them with a passion." He took a deep breath. "Anyway, if Franks goes here and
looks for a deep pit, you can see your body?"
She shook her head. "He'd have to be standing on this side of the pit to see it. There's kind of an
overhang above where I died. I kept worrying it would drop on me, but it was the only place I could
go to get out of the rain. I was wearing bright pink sweatpants, so you should be able to see those. I
don't know what kind of condition my body will be in now. Once I left, I never went back."
Being one of the assistant medical examiners in the area, Lance knew exactly what her body
would look like and was glad she hadn't gone back. It wasn't something she needed to see. "There's no
reason for you to go back. Most of the ghosts I've talked to don't really worry about their body once
they've died. We'll let the detectives deal with everything." He glanced up at Franks and told him
about the pink sweatpants and where he'd have to stand to find the body.
"If I remember right, there are several deep holes in that area. Does she remember which one
she's in?" Franks asked.
Shelia shook her head. "Sorry."
"It's okay. All we can do is try to find you. If it doesn't work, we'll try another way. Once we find
your body, then Angus and Franks can try and figure out who killed you. It will give your parents
closure, even though it's not the closure they probably want. It's still better they know what happened
to you than always wonder if you did run away," Lance told Shelia, then shook his head at Franks.
"She doesn't remember."
"Okay, I'm going to go make a few calls and get some guys to go riding with me. We'll make it
look like I just happened upon the body. Hopefully, by tomorrow night, we'll have found you."
"Do you know if you had any ID or anything on you?" Angus asked.
"I had nothing with me. Even my cell phone was gone. My parents had it when I got back to the
house after I died," Shelia told him.
Lance repeated what she'd said.
"Then we'll probably have to wait for DNA results to come in before we contact your parents.
The clothing will give us an idea who we have, but we can't just let on we know it's you. It will look
suspicious. Do you know if the police got a DNA sample from your parents?"
"Yeah, Mom mentioned to Grandma on the phone that they'd taken my brush and toothbrush to get
DNA. So you should have it." She glanced at Lance. "Is there a chance they won't be able to identify
me?"
"If your DNA is in the system, we'll find it," Lance promised before he explained to Angus about
the brush and toothbrush.
"Okay, then I think that's about all we can do for now." Angus sighed. "In a perfect world, we
could rush right out there now, but if we start talking about speaking with ghosts, they'll lock us all up.
DNA results could take a week or more."
"It's okay. I understand. I wouldn't even worry about my body if it wasn't for my parents. If they
knew I was dead, it would be different. I think not knowing is what's driving my mom crazy. If I could
just tell her…" She looked at Lance.
He held up his hands. "Nope, don't even ask. I'm not going to talk to your parents for you. That
could cause all kinds of problems. We'll find your body, and hopefully find out who killed you. That
will have to give them closure enough." He heeded Angus's mother's warning never to speak to the
living for the dead. She said they seldom believed you when you tried. He wasn't going to go down
that road. "I'm sorry."
Shelia nodded. "So now what happens?"
"I'll take you home and tomorrow Franks will go find your body." Lance pulled his business card
from his pocket and showed it to her. "I'm not sure how to get hold of you, but Monday through Friday,
you can find me at the Medical Examiner's Office. Memorize the address, or you can come here. If I'm
not here, go into the backyard and see if Ray and Bethany are here. They're usually here during the
day. You can give them a message or hang out with them until I get home."
"Can I drop by tomorrow night to find out if you found my body?"
"Of course. I should be around all day. If they find your body, it will be taken to the Medical
Examiner's office and on Monday I'll make sure we are working on matching your DNA. It's going to
be a slow process, but we'll get this done." Lance wished he could rush things, but he had to follow
procedure and make everything look normal.
"I'm not going anywhere. At least not yet. Maybe once my mom is okay, then I'll cross into the
light, but for now, I need to be around her," Shelia said. "I can't thank you guys enough for helping me.
I thought I'd never be found."
"We're glad we can help. Pure luck we saw you today." Lance smiled. "Are you ready to go
home?"
"Yeah. Thanks again for the ride." She stood.
Lance turned to Angus. "You with me or Franks?"
"I thought I'd come back here and spend some time with you tonight, if that's okay?" Angus
smiled. "I'll ride with you to drop her off and back."
"Sounds good to me." Lance loved the idea of some alone time with Angus. They'd both been so
busy over the last week they'd hardly seen each other. The quick calls and texts were hardly enough to
satisfy him.
Franks walked back into the room, stuffing his phone into his pocket. "I've got three guys willing
to go out with me. We'll meet out there at three."
"Sounds good." Angus reached for his notebook, tore the map out, and handed it to Franks. "Call
us as soon as you know anything."
"I will. Tell Shelia I'll do my best," Franks said.
"You just told her. Remember, she can hear you, you just can't hear her." Lance smiled. "We're
going to get her home. Thanks for lunch. Call us in the morning if you want company to go look at that
other home."
"I think I'll be okay. I've pretty much made up my mind that I'm going to put an offer on the one we
saw today. I'm only going to look at the others so I can tell people I looked at a few before deciding."
Franks shrugged.
Shelia smiled. "I'm glad he's going to buy it. He'll take care of it."
Lance repeated what she said.
Franks nodded. "I promise."
With that, they headed out the door and climbed into their cars. As they drove, Lance thought
about the day, thinking about how many murders went undiscovered all because the ghosts had no one
they could tell. He was grateful for his gift, even if it made life strange at times. At least he could
speak for the dead and help them find the closure they wanted before moving on to whatever was in
the light.
 CHAPTER FOUR
Lance lay on the couch, his head on Angus's leg. He closed his eyes as Angus ran his fingers
gently through his hair. They were watching a movie, but he was barely aware of what was going on
because Angus's gentle touch had him so relaxed, he was fighting the urge to drift off to sleep.
After dropping Shelia off at her parents' new home, they'd come back to his place and relaxed.
He'd started a load of laundry before they put on the movie, and he could no longer hear the washer
running. He should probably go and toss things into the dryer, but he was so comfortable he couldn't
bring himself to get up.
"Don't fall asleep on me." Angus grinned down at him.
"I can't remember when I've been this relaxed." Lance sighed. "I'll get up in a minute to finish
laundry and figure something out for dinner.”
"I'm not very hungry. We can make sandwiches or something simple." Angus moved his fingers
down to caress Lance's neck.
"You going to stay the night?"
"I'd like to if you want me."
"I always want you." It was true, especially since their weekend away where they'd finally
consummated their relationship. Now that he knew the pleasure Angus could bring him, he wanted
him all the time. "I can give you a ride home tomorrow sometime."
"Yeah, I've got laundry to do and bills to pay." Angus sighed.
"Lance." Bethany suddenly rushed through the front wall of the living room. "Oops, sorry to
interrupt." She paused, looking sheepish. "If you're not too busy, could you come out front? Ray wants
to talk to you."
Lance sat up. "Why doesn't he just come inside?"
"You'll see." Bethany looked giddy as she grinned at them. Her brown hair was pulled into a tight
ponytail today and she wore shorts and a tank top, which normally would have had Lance freezing if
he'd tried it today. But being dead, Bethany didn't notice things like cold weather.
"Who's here?" Angus nudged Lance.
"Bethany. She says Ray's out front and wants to talk to us."
"Guess we should go see why." Angus stood.
"Yeah, I can't imagine why he wouldn't just come inside." Lance didn't mind the ghosts coming
and going. He had a rule that if they walked in on him and Angus kissing, they'd leave, and his
bedroom was always off-limits, but they hadn't been doing anything more than lying on the couch
tonight. He stood and headed for the front door with Angus right behind him.
As he stepped out onto the front porch, he saw Ray sitting on the front lawn with a puppy jumping
around him. Lance stared, unsure of what was going on.
"There's a puppy." Angus smiled, walking farther out and bending down to pet the small animal.
"She started following us down the road as we walked. We tried to get her to leave us, but she
wouldn't. We didn't see anyone around who she might belong to," Bethany told them.
Lance knew animals could see ghosts, but from what he was seeing, they could also interact with
them. The dog was rubbing up against the ghostly image of Ray who looked to be petting it. "Can she
feel your touch?" Lance asked.
"Yeah, animals can feel our energy. When I pet her, my energy courses over her. It's just like
Angus is doing, but instead of actually touching the dog, it's my energy touching her." Ray smiled.
"She's adorable, isn't she?"
She really was. She appeared to be part border collie and maybe a bit lab, but Lance couldn't be
sure. She couldn't be more than a few months old. "How long has she been following you?"
"A few blocks. We stopped and hung out in the area, hoping that someone would come looking
for her, but when no one did, we tried to get her to stay. She refused and followed us here. I was
hoping we could keep her in the backyard and maybe look for her owner?" Ray looked up at Lance as
the puppy now chased Angus across the lawn.
Lance smiled. "And if we don't find the owner?"
"Then we'll find her a good home." Ray shrugged.
"Or maybe we can keep her?" Bethany suggested.
Lance didn't mind dogs. He'd had one when he'd been younger but hadn't even thought about
getting one since living on his own. He worked too many hours for a dog to handle being home alone.
But now, the dog wouldn't be alone. Bethany and Ray were around to take care of it. He could put in a
doggy door in the back so the dog could come and go from the house. He shook his head. He was
getting too far ahead in thinking about this. "She can stay, but we have to try and find the owner. That
means you two will watch for signs in the area about missing pets, and I'll take her to the vet to see if
she's got one of those ID implants that have the owner's name."
"Yay." Bethany jumped up and down. The puppy saw her and tried to bite at her shoelaces, but
since the laces weren't a physical object, it looked to Lance as if the puppy was just biting through
Bethany's shoes.
Angus came to stand beside him. "Sucker."
Lance laughed. "I know. But look at her. She's too young to be on her own on the streets, and we
both know what the animal shelter is like. There's no reason we can't keep her here while we look for
the owner. Someone has to be missing her."
"We sure it's a her?" Angus asked.
Ray nodded. "She was on her back, letting me rub her belly. It's a girl."
Lance repeated Ray's words to Angus. "So, what are we going to call her?"
Bethany looked down at the puppy. "Let us spend some time with her. We'll come up with
something."
Ray stood. "Are you sure this is okay? I know it's a lot to ask."
"It's fine. I like dogs. You teach her to not chew up all my shoes or pee all over the house while
she's with us. Angus and I will make a quick run to the pet store for bowls, dog food, and some chew
toys. Monday, I'll come home on my lunch and run her into the vet to see if she's microchipped. We
can also put up some found posters around the neighborhood and online." Lance glanced over at
Angus. "Are you up to a trip to the store? You can stay here if you want."
"Nah, I'm okay going. We can stop for ice cream on the way back." Angus grinned as he watched
the dog run around. "It's weird. I can see her acting as if she's being petted or playing with someone,
but I can't see anyone but her. If I didn't know the truth, I'd think the dog was crazy."
"Bethany's already in love with the pup. It's going to kill her if we find his owner." Lance sighed.
"You can always go down to the shelter and get another." Angus laughed. "Come on, let's go get
our shoes on and we'll go get her some food."
Lance nodded. "I'll get a bowl of water for her now and leave the back door open a bit so she
can come and go." He glanced back at Ray and Bethany. "Bring her on inside. We'll let her get used to
her temporary home." He opened the front door and stepped aside.
 As if she'd been following them around forever, the puppy fell into step with Bethany and Ray
and walked right into the house as if she'd been there a million times. Lance just hoped when it came
to potty training, she was just as easy to train. The last thing he wanted was to wake up to puddles on
his kitchen floor in the morning.
He went to the cupboard, grabbed a bowl, then filled it with cold water. He set it on the floor,
then called the puppy over to show her. The dog drank heartily. "I'll leave the sliding glass door open
a bit so she can come and go. You two make sure she doesn't get into trouble."
"She's going to be a perfect angel." Bethany stooped beside the dog as she drank.
"I hope so." Lance gave the dog a weary glance, then turned to Angus. "Ready?"
"Yep, here ya go." He handed Lance his tennis shoes which had been beside the couch. "Do you
even know what food to buy?"
"Nope, but I'm about to learn." He smiled. "She is cute."
"She is, but don't you go falling in love with her yet. Let's wait until you see if you can find an
owner," Angus warned.
"I know." It was going to be easier said than done. "I don't go falling in love easily," Lance
teased.
"Tell me about it. I had to work for it." Angus leaned in and kissed him. "Let's go. I'm tired and
the sooner we get back, the sooner we can get to bed. Something tells me tomorrow's going to be a
busy day."
"Then we should make the most of tonight." Lance smiled as he grabbed his keys, then yelled to
the ghosts who were already in the backyard. "We'll be back."
 CHAPTER FIVE
Lance woke to the sound of Angus talking softly to someone. He opened his eyes and rolled to his
side, confused at first at what he was seeing. Angus was sitting up, stroking a dog that was lying
between them. It took a moment for him to remember the dog he'd welcomed into his home last night.
The last time he'd seen the dog was outside when they'd said goodnight to the ghosts.
"Morning." Angus leaned over and brushed a kiss over his lips.
"Morning. Where did our guest come from?"
"I'm not sure. Did you leave the door open when we went to bed?"
Lance tried to remember. "No, but I got up around three and went out for a glass of water. I
probably didn't close it when I came back in." He rubbed his eyes. "She looks comfortable."
Angus laughed. "She's making herself right at home." He ran his fingers through the dog's fur.
"What time is it?" Lance rolled again to reach for his cell phone on the nightstand. "Wow, it's
already nine. I didn't mean to sleep so late."
"My fault for keeping you up late." Heat filled Angus's eyes at the memory of just what they'd
been doing late into the night.
"All your fault, but I'm not complaining a bit." Lance covered Angus's hand with his own on top
of the dog. "I enjoyed every minute of it."
"So I heard." Angus laughed. "I think everyone might have heard."
A blush heated Lance's neck. He quickly changed the subject. "What are your plans for today?"
"I thought I might run into work and pull Shelia's file." Angus stretched.
"Is that wise? I mean, can't they see who's pulled the file up? Won't there be questions on why
you were searching for it right before the body was found?"
"Maybe, but I doubt anyone would notice. But maybe you're right. It's so hard sitting on
information and having to jump through all these hoops. I hate that we couldn't rush out and find her
last night. Now we're going to have to wait for DNA to hit before we can let her parents know. It's not
fair to the parents or to Shelia."
"It's not, but I look at the whole picture. At least we're able to find her body. If I didn't have the
ability to see ghosts, she might never be found. It's better having them wait a few more weeks for
DNA than to spend the next forty years wondering what happened to their daughter." Lance kicked the
blankets off his legs, swung them off the bed, and stood. The dog lifted her head to watch him. "Sorry,
girl. You can't join me in the shower, though I guess it wouldn't hurt to give you a bath at some point
today." He glanced at Angus. "I'll make some flyers after I cook us breakfast and we can go post them
around the area if you're sticking around."
Angus gave the dog one more pet and climbed out of bed. He reached for his boxers and pulled
them on. "I guess digging into the case can wait. You're probably right that bringing attention to
ourselves isn't good. We need everything to follow procedure. Go shower. I'm going to call Franks
and make sure plans haven't changed. I'll shower when you're done."
Lance walked around the bed and tugged Angus in his arms. "You could join me."
"I could, but we both know that would mean another hour before we made it out of the bedroom.
It's late enough. I want to catch Franks before he meets with the realtor. Maybe tonight we'll take a
long bath."
"Deal." Lance kissed him hard. "I'll hurry."
 As he made his way to the shower, he thought about the case and what evidence might be left to
find on the body. They'd be able to tell if bones were broken. He might be able to run tests on the hair
to look for drugs, but it would all depend on the condition of the body. He didn't expect there to be too
much left for them to work with.
With the water streaming over him, he wondered who would want to kill such a young girl. Had
she been sexually assaulted after being knocked out? That was the only reason he could see for
attacking her. Then again, he didn't know everything. For all he knew, Shelia could have had a drug
problem she was hiding from them, or even started a fight with someone days before that she hadn't
mentioned. Still, she didn't seem to be lying to them. What would be the point? She was dead. Nothing
she told them was going to change that. Angus was right to want to see the police reports and find out
just how much investigating was done.
He quickly showered and dried off, before wrapping the towel around his waist and walking
back into the bedroom.
"I was going to make the bed, but she doesn't want to move." Angus pointed at the dog.
"She's spoiled already." Lance pulled clothes out and started to dress. "Did you talk to Franks?"
"Yeah, everything is still a go. He's going to put an offer down on Shelia's house if he doesn't fall
in love with the other. He's worried someone else will snatch it up if he hesitates. He said to get in
shape to help him move." Angus tugged on the blankets on the bed, but the dog just lifted her head and
stared at him.
Lance laughed. "I might have to get Ray to come get her. She doesn't look like she's going to
move for us. Go shower. I'll find a way to get her moving, make the bed, and go start breakfast. You
want pancakes or waffles?"
"Waffles." Angus grabbed his clothes and headed for the bathroom.
Lance finished getting dressed, then turned to the bed. "Okay, let's get you off the bed so I can
make it." He tried to pull the blanket, but the dog didn't budge. He reached over and tried to push the
dog. "Off the bed." His voice was stern, but the dog just stared at him. "What does it take to get you to
move?" Lance sighed. After trying three more times to pull the blankets up and only moving the dog
with the blankets, he gave up. "Fine, but don't think I'm going to share my waffles with you if you're
going to be stubborn."
The dog lifted her head, stared at him for a moment, then jumped off the bed.
"Ah, so it's food that is the secret to getting you to obey?" He quickly made the bed. "I'm not sure
how that will work around here. I'm not big on sharing my food with a dog. I went out and got you
your own food last night. Besides, I bet syrup isn't good for dogs." He really had no idea, but he
hoped the dog didn't either.
"Come on, girl. Let's go find out what's going on out there." He smiled as the dog followed him
out to the kitchen. He didn't see Ray or Bethany in the backyard, so he made sure the dog had water
and some food before he started the coffee pot. Once that was brewing, he quickly mixed the batter
for the waffles and got working on them while also frying some bacon.
"That smells so good." Angus walked out of the bedroom, his hair still wet.
"Our friend thinks so too. She won't leave that spot near the stove, hoping I'll drop something."
Lance rolled his eyes at the dog. "I'm almost done."
"Where did Ray and Bethany go?"
"I'm not sure. They were gone when I walked out. Maybe they're out searching for the dog's
owner." Lance pulled the bacon from the stove and set it on a plate. "I was hoping they might stick
around so that if Shelia drops by, they'd be here." They'd explained to the ghosts how they'd met her
after they'd gotten back from getting supplies for the dogs. Bethany had been very interested in talking
to the young girl and helping her adapt to being dead.
"They'll show up. Just hope it's not with another puppy." Angus grinned as he bent and petted the
one at his feet.
"She must have snuck in with us after they left. I didn't hear her come in or sneak in between us
while we slept."
"Neither did I. Does it bother you having a dog on your bed?" Angus asked.
"Nah, when I was little, I had a yellow lab named Elliot. He slept with me every night. Did it
bother you? I'll kick her out of my bed before I kick you out."
"No, I don't mind. I had two cats growing up who would sleep with me. They followed Betty
around the house during the day, but at night they were with me. Betty is a huge animal lover. If she
hears you have a dog, she'll be around all the time. She kept trying to talk Mom and Dad into getting
one, but with as much as they travel, it didn't make sense to have a dog. You keep this one and she
might move in with you," Angus warned.
"I like Betty. I wouldn't mind her around more often." He'd met the ghost who was Angus's
mother's best friend several times and enjoyed talking to her.
"You say that until she's begging you to crank the music loud. She's not as bad as my mother, but
close." Angus pulled the plates out of the cupboard and started to set the table.
Lance laughed. "I guess this is where I'm lucky that ghosts can't pick things up or touch things like
the volume of my music. Though, at times, it would make things easier. Think how great our meals
would be if Cel could really cook them for us or if Ray could feed and water the dog if we keep her."
"True, but also imagine the pranks they'd pull on us. Betty and my mom would never stop messing
with each other."
"True." Lance set the plate of bacon on the table beside a large plate filled with thick waffles. He
then poured them each a cup of coffee and sat down. "I'm starving."
"Me too." Angus pulled two waffles from the stack. "So do you have any plans for Halloween?"
"I don't. Do you?"
"Not really. I usually just sit and hand out candy to the kids unless I'm on call. Halloween is a
very busy night sadly. I don't know what it is, but it's like with full moons. Everything is crazy. There
is the office Halloween bash at the bar the weekend before. They rent out the backroom at Johnny's
and we all drink too much. I was hoping you might go with me."
Lance smiled. "Of course, I'll go. Do we have to dress up or anything?" He hadn't dressed up in a
costume in years. His work didn't do anything more than decorate the front office. No one was in the
mood for celebrating holidays at the county morgue.
"That's up to us. About half show up in costume. I don't care if we do or not. I'm not sure what we
could go as if we do dress up. I'd like it to be something that goes together like Batman and Robin, but
more current." Angus shrugged. "It's up to you. I'm just happy I won't be one of the few single guys
there this year. Franks has even found dates for the last two years."
"I'm glad to be your plus-one. Give me some time to think and we'll come up with costume ideas.
Once we decide on something, we'll have to see how hard it will be to come up with the actual
costumes. We've got time still." Lance reached for his coffee.
"I wish I had a sense of smell," Ray called as he and Bethany walked in.
"The kids are back." Lance smiled at Angus. "Ray's laminating about missing the smell of bacon."
The dog barked, running over and circling the two ghosts.
Bethany knelt down and petted the dog. "Did you miss us?" She smiled as the dog jumped up to
lick her face but ended up going right through her. "It's okay, girl. You'll get used to it."
"Where did you two take off so early?" Lance asked.
"We got bored last night when the audiobook finished so we went exploring. We decided to catch
a ride out to that area by the racetrack where you said that girl died. We wanted to see if we could
find her body." Ray appeared to sit down at the table.
Lance quickly repeated what Ray had said to Angus, then turned back to the ghost. "Did you find
her?"
"We did. If you park in that area where there's evidence of a bonfire, then cross over the roadway
to the rockier area, she's in the second pit you'll come to. A bit hard to see. She's under a ledge that's
started to give away. There's a lot of dirt covering her body, but you can still see her pink pants. Call
Franks and tell him he'll have to be standing at the back side of the pit, facing the racetrack to see
her." Ray reached down and ran his fingers over the dog as they talked.
Lance told Angus what was said.
"I need to call Franks. Got anything else?" Angus pulled out his phone.
"Tell him to be careful. There's a rattler in the pit with her. Must have fallen in there recently
because I don't see a food or water source for it, but it was alive and well when we dropped into the
pit to look around. We only saw the one." Bethany leaned against the counter as she spoke.
Lance shivered at the thought of even seeing it. He told Angus, then turned back to Ray as Angus
stood and placed his call. "Anything else?"
"Nope, it was quiet out there. We debated on hanging out until Franks got there and trying to touch
him to guide him to the area, but we weren't sure he'd be paying attention to our touch. We figured it
was best to come and tell you what we found. It was tempting to stay though. I'd love to catch a ride
on the back of one of those dirt bikes while they're out there." Ray sighed.
"I'm sure once Franks gets used to you being around, he'll take you for a ride sometime." The
ghost had ridden behind Angus several times on his bike, but that had been on the road, not dirt
biking. Thanks to Angus and Franks educating him, Lance learned there were very big differences
between the two. "I thought you two might have gone searching for the dog's owner."
"We watched for any missing signs on poles as we walked back into the neighborhood but didn't
see anything." Bethany smiled. "I'm praying we don't find an owner."
Lance narrowed his eyes. "Just because you want to keep her doesn't mean we don't at least try to
find the owner. What if she was yours and she went missing? She might belong to some kid who's
heartbroken now that she's gone."
"Don't make me feel guilty." Bethany pouted.
"If we find her owner, we'll go down to the shelter and adopt another. There're hundreds of dogs
that need a good home." Lance glanced at the puppy. "But I won't complain if we don't find the owner
either. She's kind of grown on me overnight. We woke to find her curled up on the bed between us."
Ray smiled. "She loves to lie next to you. She was doing that out back on the lounge chair with
Bethany."
"Well, come up with a name for her for now. I'm tired of calling her the puppy or the dog," Lance
told them.
Angus walked back into the room. "Franks said to tell you both thank you. He'll call once he's
found her. He also said he put an offer in for Shelia's old home and is hoping to hear something in the
next day or two."
Lance glanced at his watch. "Did he even look at the other home?"
"He pulled up in front of it, saw the work it needed, and didn't even bother to go inside. It was
priced higher than the other house but needed ten times the work." Angus reached for another slice of
bacon.
"Well, I guess all we can do now is wait. I'll make some flyers about the dog to post around, then
we can go hang them around the neighborhood and see what happens. Hopefully, Shelia will drop by
later and we'll have good news for her." Lance licked syrup off his fingers.
"I'm looking forward to meeting her," Bethany said as she pushed off from the counter. "For now,
the dog and I are going to go out back and play while we think up a good name for her."
"Don't fall in love with her just yet," Lance called.
"Too late," Bethany called back as she and Ray fluttered through the wall and the dog ran out the
door.
As he watched them go, he smiled. He didn't want to let the dog go either, but they had to at least
try to find an owner. Maybe he'd just make a couple of found posters. They didn't have to post them
everywhere.
Angus laughed. "You're too easy to read. That dog has already stolen your heart."
Lance met Angus's stare and shook his head. "She can't. You already have it."
 CHAPTER SIX
"Hello?"
Lance looked up from the grocery list he'd been making when he heard the woman's voice. He
stood and made his way to the front door and opened it. He found Shelia standing on the front porch.
"Hey, good to see you. Come on in."
"Thanks. I didn't want to just walk in." She looked nervous as she followed him inside. "Any
news?"
"He found your body about two hours ago and was waiting for the police to get there. He hasn't
called back since then but did say he would drop by here once they were done." Lance led her to the
kitchen. "Have a seat. I'll call the others inside. They're out back with the dog." He went to the sliding
door and opened it. He watched as Angus threw a tennis ball across the yard and the dog went
chasing after it. Ray and Bethany sat on the patio watching. "Hey, Shelia's here."
The dog was the first to make it to the door as if she'd been the only one called. Lance laughed.
"Come on in and meet our new friend." He followed the dog back to the table. "This is our unnamed
dog who followed Ray and Bethany home yesterday. We're looking for her owner."
Shelia smiled as she leaned down to pet the dog. "I have a cat at my parents' place. She can still
see me. I was really surprised when I finally got back home and she came right up to me."
"Our dog now has a name. I've named her Haunt," Bethany informed them as she walked into the
house followed by Ray and Angus.
"Haunt?" Lance asked.
"Sure, why not? It's almost Halloween, she followed two ghosts home, and if we keep her, she'll
be living with two ghosts. Haunt is the perfect name for her, and we think she likes it," Bethany
explained.
"They've named the dog Haunt," Lance informed Angus.
"I kind of like that name. Come here, Haunt," Angus called.
The dog ran over to Angus. "Looks like she likes it too." Angus smiled as he bent to pet the dog.
"Hello, Shelia. I can't see where you're at, but I'm glad you're here."
"Thanks," Shelia smiled.
"She's in that chair." Lance pointed to where Shelia sat.
"You told her about Franks?" Angus asked.
"The little that we know." Lance gestured to Ray. "Shelia, this is Ray, and this is Bethany."
"Great to meet you." Bethany smiled. "Have you met other ghosts?"
"Just one," Shelia told her. "He was nice enough to explain a few things to me before he left."
She glanced at Ray. "You've really resisted the light for over a hundred years?"
Ray nodded. "I keep finding new adventures to keep me here. Do you plan on staying around?"
Shelia shrugged. "That depends on my mom. I'll see how she takes my death. If she's okay, I think
I want to know what's in the light."
"I don't blame you. It's still tempting after all these years. Someday, I'll be ready." Ray shrugged.
Angus's phone beeped and everyone looked at him as he pulled it from his pocket.
"Franks?" Lance asked.
Angus nodded. "He's on his way here. Said that Shelia's body was taken to the Medical
Examiner's Office. He'll tell us more when he gets here."
 "Guess I could order pizza. He's going to be hungry." Lance pulled out his own phone and quickly
pulled up the app he used. "Any requests?"
"The usual. Franks likes everything, so get what we usually do." Angus set his phone down.
"I miss food." Shelia sighed. "I'm not hungry at all, but I can remember the taste of some things."
Ray nodded. "Like this morning they cooked bacon. I saw it and could remember the smell after
not smelling it for a century. It's the craziest thing."
As Ray, Bethany, and Shelia started talking about ghost things, Lance and Angus walked back
outside with Haunt. Lance picked up the ball and threw it across the lawn. "Did Franks say anything
that gives us hope they'll be able to identify her without DNA?"
"No, but he didn't say much in his text. And I doubt anyone would know what Shelia was wearing
when she was killed since she was home alone, so no one is going to remember a case where a girl
was wearing pink sweats. I'm pretty sure we're going to have to wait for DNA." Angus took the ball
from Haunt and tossed it again. "I'm hoping the news reports about a body being found. If that's the
case, then her parents might call the morgue and give her name, so we know to cross-reference her
DNA when it first comes in. Otherwise, we wait for the system to match the body with her DNA. It
won't take much longer, but it's always easier when we have names to look at as soon as we can."
"We'll know after the autopsy that we have a young woman. That will help weed down the
possible hits."
"Will you be able to determine the cause of death if she starved?"
"I doubt it after this long. I'm assuming we'll be getting a skeleton with just a bit of hair and
tissue. We'll see what that hair and tissue can tell us, maybe learn something from the bone density,
but it's not as if she was malnourished for months, then died. She probably died of dehydration, and
that would mean her organs just started to shut down. I'll need to see the body to know what we're
dealing with." He didn't have much hope the autopsy would tell them anything unless Shelia wasn't
telling them everything.
"So we won't be able to prove murder?"
"Suspicious circumstances for sure, but not murder. There's always the chance Shelia didn't
realize she was injured, and we find a skull fracture or something, but if it's like she says, I don't hold
out much hope. Once you can get the reports, we'll see if there was anything in the home that looked
as if there was a struggle or an attack of some kind. That would help make the case that she was
murdered, but going off just the things Shelia has told us, I think it's going to be hard to prove murder
without a lot more evidence to point us in the right direction." Lance sighed. "It's not going to be an
easy case to prove."
"I'll do my best with what we have, but at least her parents won't be looking at every face they
pass wondering where she is. Even if we can't prove murder, they'll have their closure." Angus tossed
the ball again.
"Franks is here," Ray called.
Lance turned to go in. "Ray said Franks is here. I'll go get the door." Lance headed inside and
went to the front door, opening it. "Thanks for dropping by." He noticed Franks' truck on the road with
a trailer on the back. His dirt bike and one other sat on the trailer.
Franks looked tired and dirty. His jeans and tennis shoes were dusty and his hair a mess.
"Thanks, it was a long afternoon."
"I ordered pizza. Figured you'd be hungry. Come in and I'll grab you a drink. Soda, water, tea?"
"Soda if you have it. I can use the sugar rush." Franks walked into the kitchen and went to sit
down.
 Ray jumped up, moving out of the way right before Franks sat in his lap.
"Ray, Bethany, and Shelia are all here." Lance pulled a Coke out of the fridge and handed it to
Franks. "And this is our lost puppy, Haunt. We're searching for her owner."
"Cute little thing." Franks pet the dog as she sniffed at his shoes.
"So what did you find?" Angus asked, taking a seat at the table.
Franks popped open the can and took a drink. "The body was easy to find after your call this
morning. It was right where Ray said it would be. It was mostly covered with dirt, but I could see the
skull and the pink pants from the top of the pit. She was at least thirty feet down. If the lighting hadn't
been just right, she would have been impossible to see." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I called
it in, and the team came out. You were right about the snake in the pit. Once it was neutralized they
were able to get in there and examine the area. There wasn't much to find. She was dressed in a pink
sweatsuit, and there were claw marks on the wall where it appears she tried to climb out, but she had
nothing with her. No phone, no jewelry, no anything."
"I should have had a necklace on." Shelia touched her neck. "I never took it off. It was a gift from
my grandparents."
"She said she always wore a necklace her grandparents gave her. She never took it off."
"Well, we didn't find it. We ran the metal detector around and we found an assortment of bottle
caps and beer cans. We also found what looks like a gemstone, we think it's amethyst. Maybe from an
earring or a ring," Franks said.
Shelia shook her head. "I didn't have anything with amethyst. My necklace was a locket. It had
pictures of my grandparents inside it. I know I was wearing it that night because I kept holding on to it
and saying prayers for my grandmother to be okay."
Lance repeated what she said.
"Well, if it's there we didn't find it. And your body wasn't in bad enough condition that it would
have been lost. I mean…" Franks looked uncomfortable. "Your head and backbone and everything
was where they should have been. It would have still been around your neck." He took another drink.
"The medical examiner didn't see an obvious cause of death. He estimated you'd been dead for around
a year, but said it was hard to tell for sure."
"That's about right. Ten months, right?" Lance asked Shelia.
"I died in January. I went missing on January ninth but was alive in the pit for four or five more
days, I think. There at the end, it was hard to tell the time. I just slept. I know the day I caught a ride
back home after I died was the twentieth. But like I said, I hung out by my body for a few days trying
to figure out what to do." Shelia patted her leg to call Haunt over to her. She caressed the dog gently
as if it calmed her.
Angus made notes in a small notebook as Lance repeated what she said.
"How long until you can tell my parents you found me?"
Lance repeated her question, then met Shelia's eyes. "That all depends on how long it takes to get
your DNA back so we can match it. I'll try to put a rush on it, but without giving them a good reason,
I'm not sure they'll push it through quickly. It could take weeks," Lance explained. "I'll do my best, but
unless there is something on your body that gives us a clue, we're going to have to play stupid until
everything processes as normal. Anyone claiming they know who you are would make themselves a
suspect."
"I'll talk to the others at the department tomorrow about what I found. Maybe one of them will
remember a case where a girl was wearing pink," Franks said.
"It won't do any good. No one knew what she was wearing the night she went missing," Lance
told him.
"Well, shit. I hadn't thought about that." Franks sighed. "I'm sorry. I wish I had better news."
"It's okay. I'm glad you found me. At least soon my parents will know I'm dead. They'll quit
looking for me." Shelia sighed. "Will you do my autopsy?"
"I'm not sure yet. I'll find out tomorrow morning," Lance told her.
"Can I go with you to watch?"
Lance frowned. "I'm not sure you want to see that."
"Please? I know it will be gross, but I really want to be there," Shelia pleaded.
"It's not as if I can stop you. You can just show up and I wouldn't be able to kick you out. You're
welcome to ride in with me in the morning if you're determined to be there."
"You can hang out with us tonight here if you want to," Bethany offered. "We just kick back in the
yard and talk."
"I'd like that. I have questions." Shelia looked at Ray. "You've been a ghost a long time. Maybe
you have answers."
"Sure, but I don't know what's in the light if you're going to ask me that. Other than that, I might
know." He shrugged. "There's really not much to learn that you probably already haven't."
Lance let them talk as he glanced over at Franks. "So, who is taking the case?"
"I am. I asked to be put on it. Told them since I found her, I wanted to be the one to investigate it."
Franks looked at Angus. "Which means you're on it too, partner."
"Nowhere I'd rather be. It will make it easier for us to handle it since we have the victim around
to talk to. We won't have to drop hints for another detective to pick up on." Angus looked at Shelia.
"We'll do everything we can to find who killed you."
"Thanks. I know you will. I'll help in any way I can. But I really don't have any idea who would
have wanted to hurt me." She continued to pet the dog. "I didn't have a lot of friends. I mean, I knew a
lot of people, but I was only close to a few and I didn't do anything to make them mad at me. At least
not that I know of."
Lance repeated everything.
"It could have been someone you didn't know. Sorry to get so personal, but when you woke up in
the pit did you feel as if you'd been sexually assaulted?" Angus asked.
"No, not at all. In fact, it was one of the first things I thought about. I'm a virgin, so I think I would
have been able to tell. Even if I couldn't, why would they have redressed me if they were just going to
toss me in the pit to die? My clothes were exactly as they had been." Shelia leaned back in her chair
as the dog ran to Bethany. "I didn't hurt anywhere other than my arm."
Lance told Angus what she'd said.
"The autopsy will show if your arm was broken. As you said, it was probably from the fall,"
Lance told her as his phone beeped. "Pizza is here."
"I'll grab it." Angus stood and left the room.
"Want another soda?" Lance asked as he stood to get him and Angus something.
"If you have it. Don't want to deplete your caffeine source."
"I'm headed to the store later. It's all good." He pulled the drinks out and set them on the table. As
he grabbed plates and napkins, he thought about Shelia's autopsy and what he could possibly find to
help the case. He just didn't see anything that would prove murder when she died of dehydration. Only
the fact that she was in the pit pointed to someone else being involved, but it was impossible to know
who.
"We'll head out back so you guys can eat," Ray said.
 Shelia stood up and looked at Franks. "Thank you for finding me today."
Lance smiled. "Franks, Shelia thanks you for finding her today."
Franks smiled. "It was my pleasure. Well, not a pleasure, but I'm glad we could bring you home.
Now you can have a proper burial like you deserve."
She nodded. Tears appeared to be glistening in her eyes as she turned and followed Ray and
Bethany into the backyard.
As Angus set the pizza down, Lance hoped they could do more, but it was going to take a lot of
good police work to prove a murder happened when they had no evidence to prove it. If anyone could
figure it out, he was sure Franks and Angus could.
 CHAPTER SEVEN

Lance walked into the office and smiled at the receptionist. "Morning, Kathy. How was your
weekend?" Shelia stood behind him, quietly watching everything.
"It was good. Took my grandson out for a movie and ice cream. Then he spent the night while his
parents enjoyed a few days alone. How was yours?" she asked as she went about turning on her
computer and setting up for the day.
"Same as usual." He smiled, unable to tell her the truth. "Spent most of it with Angus watching
movies." He nodded to the schedule that was printed up. "Busy day ahead?"
"No worse than usual." She handed him a copy. "You might even be able to get out of here early."
"Doubtful. I have to run home during my lunch. Had a puppy show up at my door this weekend
and need to take her to the vet to see if she's chipped. I may be a bit longer than my usual hour."
"Oh, the poor puppy. Is she okay?"
"Seems to be." Lance shrugged. "Guess the vet will be able to tell me."
"Do you have a vet yet?" Kathy asked. "I take Boots to that vet on Charleston. Valley View Vet.
They've always been great with my cats."
"That's where I plan on going. If she's not chipped and we don't hear from an owner soon, I'll
arrange to take her in for a full check-up."
"So you'll keep her if you don't find the owner?"
Lance nodded. "Angus has kind of grown attached to her."
Shelia laughed. "Liar. It's you who's attached to her."
He ignored the ghost but gave her a guilty grin.
"You'll have to show me pictures if you keep her." Kathy turned away as the phone started
ringing.
Lance gave her a wave and headed back to where he had his locker. As he pushed into the room,
Jeremy greeted him. "Lance, welcome back." Jeremy paused as he noticed Shelia walking in behind
him. "Well, what do we have here? You picking up ghosts wherever you go?" Jeremy asked.
Jeremy was a twenty-something heart attack victim who had come in with his body and decided
to stick around. He was fascinated with the human body and was learning everything he could while
watching them do autopsies. Today he wore a black t-shirt with a skateboarder on it and board shorts.
He'd had a heart attack and died while skateboarding in one of the local parks. "Jeremy, meet Shelia.
She died about ten months ago. I'll let her tell you her story, but we found her body yesterday and
she's here to watch the autopsy."
"Cool. How did you die?" Jeremy ignored Lance and went over to Shelia.
As the two talked, Lance tossed his keys into his locker, then read over the schedule for the day.
He smiled, seeing he was set to do an autopsy on an unknown female first thing this morning. It had to
be Shelia since every other body had a name beside it. "Looks like you're first up this morning. Let
me get a cup of coffee, review some notes, then we'll get set up."
"I'll show her around," Jeremy offered.
"Thanks. You okay with that, Shelia?" Lance didn't want to leave her alone with Jeremy if she
was uncomfortable, but he also could tell that Jeremy was excited to have someone else around he
could communicate with.
 "Yeah, that's fine. I just want to be there when you start my autopsy." Shelia looked around
nervously.
"I'll make sure you're there," Jeremy promised her. "Come look around."
Lance let them wander off as he headed for his office to check his email. He'd just replied to one
when his assistant stepped in.
"Good morning," Carrie said as she leaned against the doorframe, a cup of coffee in her hand.
"Morning. How'd your weekend go?" He exited his email and turned to her.
"Good. Spent it in my pajamas being lazy."
"No marathon or even training for one?"
"Not this weekend. I needed a break. How was yours?"
"Good. Angus came over and we just relaxed." He stood. "Ready to get going?"
"Yeah, looks like we caught that body they found over by the racetrack. I saw it on the news this
morning. So sad. They say she didn't appear very old." Carrie shook her head. "I wonder what
happened to her?"
"Hopefully, we can figure that out." Lance moved around the desk and walked with Carrie, glad
to hear that finding the body had made the news. Hopefully, they'd report something that would make
Shelia's parents curious and call in. "What did the news say about her?"
"Not much. Just that they'd found a body that appeared to be a young woman. Said she'd been
there a while." Carrie dumped her coffee in the trash before she turned, washed her hands, then
started to put on her protective gear.
Lance did the same. "Do they think she was murdered?"
"Didn't say. They brought up the fact that the area is known for keg parties and a popular make-
out spot for teens. Also mentioned dirt bikers in the area came across her." Carrie finished getting
ready. "I'll go prep the body."
Lance nodded, knowing everything that Carrie had told him. He'd hoped to hear something new.
He was afraid that even after the autopsy, they'd have nothing new to move forward. He had to find
something to help Angus and Franks figure out this poor girl's murder. As of right now, they couldn't
even pull her case without drawing attention since they hadn't identified her.
As he walked into the room, he saw Jeremy and Shelia standing beside the table looking down at
the body. He watched Shelia closely to see if she was affected by seeing her body, but like other
ghosts he'd met, she didn't seem to have any negative reaction to seeing her physical body, even in the
condition it was in. As he got closer, he realized that it was almost all bone and hair. There was very
little tissue left and that which was left had hardened. Still, he'd run tests on what he could so they
would have all the information they could get.
"I thought my arm was broken higher." Shelia stared at her arm. "It hurt so bad."
"How'd you break it?" Jeremy asked.
"I think when someone threw me in that hole. I don't know. I was at home and woke up in the pit.
I could have broken it at home if I fell, but I don't remember anything." Shelia shrugged.
"Her wisdom teeth hadn't even broken through yet. She's no more than a teenager." Carrie stared
at the bones.
Lance didn't answer, he was focused on making sure he did everything he could to figure out what
happened to Shelia. He wanted justice for her, but as he walked through the steps of the autopsy, he
was fearing that he wasn't going to do anything here to help her. While he worked, Jeremy and Shelia
talked about all she'd gone through. He hoped something would help him prove she was murdered, but
all he could say was that the cause of death was inconclusive. He had to hope Franks and Angus
could come up with more evidence if they wanted to prove murder. "We'll run tests on the bones and
hair and maybe those will bring something up."
"Hopefully, we'll get a DNA hit on her. Somewhere out there she's got someone missing her."
Carrie carefully took care of the body once they were done. "From the looks of her, she was in good
health."
"I agree. What we need to know is how did she get in that pit they found her in, and what
condition was she in at the time? Did the fall kill her or did she lay there and suffer and die from
dehydration and exposure?" He already knew the answer, but he had to play this as if he didn't have a
clue. He tore off his gloves. "I need a drink and to make a quick phone call. You okay with doing
another one in a few and taking a later lunch?" There were two more bodies on his list for today.
"Sure. I'll grab a drink and get us set up." She pushed Shelia's remains into the refrigerated
storage.
"So now what?" Shelia asked.
"They wait for tests to come back on your hair and bones. They run DNA so they can notify your
family. Honestly, Lance didn't have much to work with," Jeremy told Shelia as they followed him to
his office once he'd gotten rid of everything he'd been wearing.
Lance didn't speak until they were alone in his office. "I'm sorry. I was hoping to find a skull
fracture or some cause of death, but there wasn't anything. Honestly, your body was in better condition
than I'd hoped. I'd expected animals to have messed with your bones, but there was very little of that.
Had we found you sooner, I'd have had more to work with, but with only the bones left, it's harder."
"But you can get DNA, right?" Shelia asked.
"Yes, of course. There's no doubt about that. It just takes time to test. Carrie mentioned the news
covered your story this morning, so maybe your parents will call, and we'll be able to look at your
DNA profile as soon as we get the results back on the body. That will help things go faster." He
reached for his cell phone. "I'm calling Angus now and letting him know how things went. He'll have
to decide if he can pull your case file now and start digging or if he has to wait until we match the
body with your DNA."
"So I just wait?" Shelia sighed.
"I'm sorry. I wish I had better answers for you." Lance honestly hated he couldn't just pick up a
phone and call her parents.
"Let's go for a walk. It will help clear your head." Jeremy seemed to touch her shoulder. "I know
a fun place down the street where they do glassblowing. We can sneak in there and watch them work."
"Is that okay?" Shelia glanced at Lance.
"Of course. I'm here until five and I can either take you home or back to my place if you want. I'll
be gone to take Haunt to the vet when I finish the next autopsy, but I won't be gone long. Go have some
fun and get your mind off this for a while." Lance hated seeing the letdown in her eyes. He understood
her need to find out who killed her and why. He'd want to know if it was him.
"We'll be back by the time you're done," Jeremy promised. "Come on." He walked through the
wall of Lance's office and into the hallway with Shelia following behind.
Lance quickly dialed Angus.
"Hey, what's up?" Angus asked.
"Just finished Shelia's autopsy. I have nothing that's going to help you. I'll email you the report
once it's ready, but other than the broken arm, I didn't find anything. There were some marks on a leg
bone, but they looked like they were from rodents gnawing on the bone. I'm running tests on the bone
and hair hoping we might hit on something, but ten months after her death, I don't think we're going to
find much."
"I pulled her file today and as expected, there wasn't much done. They spoke with her best friend
and ex-boyfriend, but there wasn't much follow-up. There was no sign of a struggle or anything out of
place at the home. Her computer, phone, and purse were all sitting on the coffee table. Her last call
was with her parents. Her bank account hadn't seen any activity in over a week before she went
missing. There was sixty dollars in her purse, so it didn't look like a robbery. House was locked
when the parents arrived home and there were no signs of a break-in." Angus sighed. "Honestly, if it
were my case, I'd have thought she ran away, except for the fact that she didn't take her purse or
phone. She had over three thousand dollars saved in her bank account. She worked at a local pizza
joint. They said everything had been fine with her there. They didn't notice anything odd. No fights
with co-workers or customers."
"Well, we know what really happened. Just not how or who caused it to happen." Lance tapped
the pen on his desk. "I guess you can't reinterview anyone until we confirm identity?"
"Not without looking suspicious as hell. I'm creating a timeline and making a list of people she
was close to. Police confirmed her parents were in Dallas with the grandparents. So we know they're
in the clear. We'll look harder at the ex-boyfriend and speak with her best friend. Talk to Shelia and
see if there are other friends she hung around with. Ask her if she had problems with any of the
neighbors. Hell, did her parents have issues with anyone? Someone could have gone after the
daughter to get back at the parents. Anything is possible."
"She's gone off with Jeremy to relax after her autopsy. I'll speak with her later. I'm not sure if
she's going home later or staying with me. Either way, it looks like a waiting game now. Once we get
the DNA match back, you can dig deeper." Lance glanced at the clock. "I need to go. I've got work to
do. I'll give you a call tonight when I get home."
"Sounds good. I'll text if anything changes." Angus ended the call.
Lance set his phone on his desk and rolled his shoulders, reminding himself that Shelia had
waited ten months already. Waiting a bit longer wasn't going to be an issue. It wasn't as if having
answers would change anything for her, but it would change things for her parents. More than
anything, he wanted to give them closure. Shelia's fate was sealed no matter what he found, but he
could at least give the parents some comfort.
 CHAPTER EIGHT
Lance set the mail on the kitchen table, surprised to see a letter from his brother. That didn't
happen often. While Lance wrote to him at least once or twice a month, his brother seldom wrote
back. Lance didn't hold it against him. He knew his brother was busy and had never been the type to
write letters. He set the bags of groceries on the counter and sat down to open the letter.
He read the short three-paragraph letter twice before setting it down. His brother was currently
in Austria and had confirmed that he would be home for a week or two for Christmas. Lance smiled,
sure that a week or two would turn into a week once his brother was home. He never sat still long. It
would be enough. Just the thought of seeing Jackson again put him in a good mood. He was excited to
catch up and fill him in on everything that was going on in his life, and even more excited to introduce
him to Angus. What he wasn't sure of was if he was going to tell his brother about his new ability to
see and talk with the dead. He wasn't sure how Jackson would handle it.
Haunt ran in through the open back door and jumped up to lean on Lance's knee. His trip to the
vet had yielded nothing. The dog wasn't microchipped, and the vet didn't know of anyone in the area
who was missing a puppy. He'd given Lance the names of a few lost pet websites to look at and the
number of two shelters that helped locate lost dogs, but as of right now, it was looking as if Haunt
would be living with them for a while. Lance wasn't upset about that at all. "Hey, Haunt. What have
you been up to?" He glanced out the back window toward the backyard but didn't see Ray or Bethany
outside. "You on your own?" He stood and went to get a better look out the window, still not seeing
anyone. "Well, it looks as if it's just us for now." He scratched Haunt behind her ears. "Let me put the
groceries away and we'll go play ball for a bit."
Haunt lay down under the kitchen table and watched as he put everything away. Once he was
done, Lance made his way into the yard with Haunt running beside him. As if she understood what
they were going to do, Haunt picked up her tennis ball and gave it to Lance. "Wherever you came
from, you were trained. Thank God." He didn't want to think about having to potty train a puppy or
discipline her for chewing on everything around the house. He picked up the ball and tossed it across
the yard.
"I see you made a new friend."
Cel's voice had Lance turning around.
"Cel, it's so good to see you." He wanted to hug her. Since meeting her at the park one day, she'd
become a trusted friend. "How are you?" Celeste Dupont was a world-renowned chef who died
during the filming of her cooking show. She was a hefty black woman who was as energetic in death
as she had been in life.
She smiled. "I'm well. Been busy. I just got back into town. I was in Arizona with the grandkids,
making sure they're adjusting well to the move." She sat down at the patio table. "Who's our new
friend?"
"This is Haunt. She followed Bethany and Ray here the other day and just made herself at home. I
took her to the vet today to see if she was microchipped, but she wasn't. If we don't get a response to
the flyers we hung, I guess we will have a new dog." He smiled as Cel ran her hand over Haunt's
back.
"She's beautiful. Just what you need." She glanced around. "Where are Ray and Bethany?"
"I'm not sure. They weren't here when I got home from work. So tell me about Arizona? How are
the kids?"
Cel sighed. "They're okay. Adapting better than I hoped. When my son got split custody, I was
worried it would be too hard on the kids, but they seem to be okay. They're struggling at school, but
all kids do when they're new. I'm sure in time they'll make new friends. Then they'll be back here for
the summer to spend time with their old friends."
"Are you going to go back and forth?" Lance asked.
"Not a lot. You were right when you told me I was only worrying myself obsessing over the boys.
I'm going to try and step back and focus on myself for a while. That means you better get ready to start
those cooking lessons again." She grinned. "I was thinking we could do smothered pork chops this
Friday if you're not busy."
"I'd love to. I can't speak for Angus, but I'm willing. I miss our Friday night cooking classes." He
was excited to get back into the habit. "I got a letter from my brother today that he'll be home for
Christmas. I'll know how to cook him some amazing things by then."
"You let me know if there's anything particular that you want to learn. For now, I'll give you a list
of stuff you'll need, and you can head back to the store one night this week." She looked around.
"Sorry I didn't catch you before you went today."
"It's okay. I meant to go yesterday, but things got busy. We met a new ghost." He told her about
Shelia and how they'd met. "Hopefully, we can find out what happened to her."
"Oh, the poor girl. What a horrible way to die. I might have died on live TV for everyone to
watch, but I really didn't suffer. I have to be thankful for that. There are much worse ways to die than
a heart attack. Where is she now?"
"At her parents' new home. She's staying with them. Her mother hasn't taken things well. Shelia
hopes that confirming her death will help her mother get closure," Lance explained.
"Horrible tragedy. If I can help in any way, just let me know. Now that the grandkids are in
Arizona, I have a lot more time on my hands."
"We can't do much until we confirm the identity of the body which could take weeks, but I'll
invite Shelia to dinner on Friday night if I see her. She might not be able to enjoy the food, but she
will love the company." Lance was excited to have everyone together. "I might even invite Franks
now that he knows about you guys."
"How is he handling knowing there are ghosts around?" Cel asked.
"Hmm, that depends on the day. He was freaked out when he thought the house he was buying
might be haunted, yet here, while we were talking to Shelia about her death, he seemed just fine with
it. I think focusing on a case helps him accept things, and once the ghost's story matches with what the
investigation finds, it will help him believe we're not all crazy."
"He did find her body right where she said it would be. Just like Bethany leading you to hers. It's
undeniable if you ask me, but then again, I'm a ghost. It's easy for me to believe." She grinned. "How
are things going with your sexy detective?"
Lance laughed. "Good. We went to Galveston a few weekends ago. Had a fantastic time. We
stayed in this little bed and breakfast for the weekend. It was nice to get away from it all and just
focus on the two of us for a change. We rode his motorcycle down. That was exciting." He lowered
his voice as if confiding a secret. "I'm even thinking of learning how to ride so I can get my
motorcycle license and get my own bike."
"That's exciting news. Have you talked to Angus about it?" Cel asked.
"A little. I'm still working up the nerve. I'm afraid if I tell him yes, I'll have to go through with it,
and I'm not sure I'm there yet." The thought of being on his own bike scared him. He enjoyed holding
on to Angus tightly as they rushed down the highway.
Cel laughed. "The worst that could happen is you'd be dead like me."
Lance smiled. "I'm not saying there is anything wrong with being dead, but I have a lot of living
left to do. Besides, I couldn't taste all your great food if I were dead. We haven't even started working
our way through your specialties yet."
"Very true." She nodded to the tennis ball that Haunt kept trying to give her. "I'm glad things are
going well with Angus and you. He's a good man. Not great at opening up and showing his feelings,
but you'll help him change that. If they're in town, invite his parents over for dinner on Friday."
"They're out of town for at least two weeks. There was a big concert event in Australia and they
went there to see it. It was one of those weekend events where you get to see like twenty bands. Lizzy
and Betty were talking about it nonstop. When they get back, we'll do dinner with them. Maybe we
can plan something for Thanksgiving and get everyone together. I'm not sure if they have plans."
"Oh, I would love to help you plan a Thanksgiving dinner. That would be so much fun. I have the
best recipes. I used to cook such a huge dinner every year." She clapped her hands. "I'll start thinking
about it and we'll go shopping together when it's closer. I have to make sure you buy just the right
stuff."
"I have to get through Halloween first," Lance said. "I'm debating on decorating the house this
year. I just need to find the time to do it."
"You should. You have the most haunted house in the neighborhood." She winked. "And now,
with a dog named Haunt, you have to get in the spirit. I wish I could help you. I used to decorate my
son's home every Halloween for the kids."
"You're welcome to drop by and help. You can tell me what to do and where to put things. Other
than that fake webbing that looks so clumpy, I don't know what options there are."
"You need to get with the times. That's old school. There's so much out there now. Go hit one of
those Halloween stores that pop up this time of year. You'll get ideas. I can come over this weekend
and we can go shopping together if you want. My son is going out on his first date since his divorce
on Saturday night and I don't want to hang around his place in case he brings her home."
"You know you're always welcome here. Bethany and Ray are always happy for the company if
I'm gone. And I will take you up on Halloween shopping. We'll talk more about it when you come
over on Friday. You can also help Angus and me come up with costumes for the police department's
Halloween get-together."
"Oh, I'd love that. I'll think it over this week. We've got plenty of time. Halloween is nearly a
month away still." Cel smiled. "You know, without my grandkids around to coddle, I might just have
to hang around you and Angus more often. Maybe I'll head down to the station and see what he's up to
tomorrow. And I still haven't met Jeremy. Is he still haunting the morgue?"
"He hasn't left. He's there almost every morning to watch us work. He's learning a lot. The other
day he started to point out things he noticed before I'd even started the autopsy. He was right about
everything. He'd make a great assistant if he could only hold on to things and work the equipment."
"Invite him over to dinner too, or at least for Thanksgiving. No one dead or alive should be alone
for Thanksgiving." Cel stood. "Hate to visit and run, but I have to go. I'm meeting a friend for a line-
dancing class at the bar tonight. The good thing about being dead is my knees don't hurt like they used
to. I can dance all night without a single ache or pain." She pet Haunt once more, then straightened.
"Make a quick grocery list before I go."
Lance hurried inside for a pencil and paper.
Cel gave him a list of items to buy.
 "You know, this gets expensive." Lance was mentally adding things up as he wrote them down.
"But it's worth every cent when you taste it. I promise you won't regret it." She waved. "See you
on Friday. I'll come over around six."
"Sounds good. I'll see you then. Have fun tonight."
"Always." She hurried through the wall and was gone.
Lance smiled and turned to Haunt. "Guess it's time we figure out our own dinner for tonight, then
you and I can curl up on the couch with a good book." He could get used to having the dog around. In
fact, he might actually enjoy it.
 CHAPTER NINE
"You were really on TV?" Shelia asked Cel as they stood in the kitchen talking.
Lance focused on the sauce he was praying he didn't mess up. With Cel distracted in
conversation, he was sure he'd do something to ruin it.
"For several years. I had the number one cooking show in the area. Did you cook much when you
were alive?" Cel asked.
Lance ignored the conversation as he pulled the sauce from the burner, hoping it was the right
consistency. He was a bit overwhelmed trying to get everything just right. Angus and Franks would be
arriving any minute.
"You're doing great, Lance. The sauce looks perfect." Cel glanced over his shoulder. "Let the
asparagus steam for another minute or two, then pull it. You're almost done."
"This one was harder than I thought it would be." Lance sighed. "I didn't realize the sauce would
be so much work."
"But it will be worth it when you taste it." Cel stepped back. "Your detective will be very happy
with the meal you've made for him tonight."
Lance grinned.
"I'm going out back with the others," Shelia told them.
"I'll join you as soon as we're done here." Cel leaned against the counter and glanced out the
back window that looked over his yard. "Jeremy's going to wear Haunt out. Those two have been
running around the yard non-stop."
"Good. Maybe she'll sleep good tonight. She's decided my bed is her bed, but last night, she was
up and down all night, keeping me awake. If she keeps that up, I'm locking her out with Ray and
Bethany." Lance loved the dog, but he needed his sleep. He turned at the sound of voices coming from
the front door.
"Something smells amazing." Angus walked into the kitchen with Franks right behind him.
"Hey, glad both of you could make it." Lance turned away from the stove long enough to give
Angus a kiss. "Long day?"
"Almost had to cancel. Got a late call about a murder downtown. Luckily Phil wanted some extra
hours, so he took it. Looks like a domestic. The woman's husband has attacked her before. He just
took it too far this time. Hopefully, Phil will have the guy in custody tonight." Angus took a seat at the
table.
"I'm looking forward to a relaxing weekend." Franks sat down. "I'm going to get some boxes and
start packing stuff I don't use often. I can stash it in storage until I move. Then I can start cleaning the
apartment and make the move quickly once it's time."
"How are things going with that? Did they accept your offer?"
"They did. Now I just have to wait. I can't believe how long the paperwork takes. It's not like
anyone is living in the house now. There's no reason I couldn't be moving in." Franks sighed.
"Just yell when you need help moving. I'm happy to help. You should also take a look at that stuff
in my garage while you're here tonight. See if you want any of it." He turned for the fridge. "You guys
want drinks?"
"Tea please," Angus said.
"Tea sounds good," Franks agreed.
 As he pulled it from the fridge there was a knock on the door. He set the tea down and raised his
brow. "Wonder who that could be. I'm not expecting anyone." He quickly made his way to the door.
As he opened it, he found a man and a teenage boy standing there. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, we came about the dog." The man held up one of the flyers they'd put up. "Jezebel
somehow got out of our yard. We've been looking everywhere for her."
Lance felt as if he'd been punched. He glanced past the man and saw two more men sitting in the
car. "Are you sure it's the same dog?" He prayed they were wrong. He didn't want to give Haunt up.
He'd only put up a few flyers, but now he wished he hadn't put up any. He looked the man over, taking
in his dirty jeans, worn work boots, and long, untamed hair. The teen beside him didn't look much
better.
"It looks just like her. Do you still have her? She'll come right to us. You'll see." The teenage boy
leaned to peer inside the house.
"Let me go get her and we'll see if it's her. I'll be right back." He stepped inside and shut the
door, not comfortable inviting the men into his home. Lance quickly made his way to the kitchen. "It's
someone who claims Haunt is their dog."
"You don't agree?" Angus asked.
"I don't know what to think. I don't know if it's my gut warning me or my heart breaking because I
don't want to give her up." Lance went to the backyard and called the others and told them what was
happening.
Immediately, Ray disappeared. Which was rare. Very seldom had Lance seen the ghosts vanish
into thin air.
"Are you sure?" Tears were already forming in Bethany's eyes.
"I'm only telling you what they are saying. They say her name is Jezebel." Lance stared at Haunt
as she ran around their feet.
"Who names a puppy Jezebel?" Cel huffed.
"I have no reason to doubt them." Lance sighed. "Come on, Haunt. Let's go see if you're the dog
they're looking for."
Not understanding what was going on, Haunt followed Lance to the door.
Lance was glad when everyone followed him, including Angus and Franks. He slowly opened
the door, glad that Haunt didn't run outside the moment it was open. If they were her owners, wouldn't
she be able to smell their scent from inside and get excited? "Is this your dog?" Lance asked the teen.
"Yes. Damn, I never thought I'd see her again." The teen went to his knees, patting his thighs.
"Come here, Jezebel."
Haunt stared at the boy, then took two steps back.
"Jezebel, come here. You silly dog. How did you get out of our yard?" The teen again patted his
thighs. "Come here, girl."
Haunt didn't move. He seemed to brush up against Bethany's legs, but Lance and the other ghosts
were the only ones who could tell what she was doing.
"Are you sure it's the right dog? She doesn't seem to know you." Lance wasn't going to make
Haunt go with anyone she didn't feel comfortable with. "Do you have any papers on her? Maybe
something to show you've taken her to the vet?"
"No, we got her from a neighbor a few weeks ago. We hadn't taken her to the vet yet," the older
man told them. "Come on, Jezi. Let's get you back home."
Ray appeared behind the men. Lance saw him, but the men had no clue he was even standing
there. "The men in the car are talking about how much they can sell the dog for. Said they could get at
least a hundred dollars for her, maybe two. They plan on reselling her once they have her. She doesn't
belong to them. They've got a stack of found posters of other dogs sitting in the car with them and one
other dog in a kennel in the back seat."
Lance wanted to beat the men, but he swallowed back his anger. He had to tell Angus what Ray
heard. "Let me go get her leash and gather her toys and things in a box. I'll bring her out front to you in
just a few minutes." He didn't wait for them to argue as he quickly closed the door and turned to
Angus, explaining everything Ray had just told him.
"Scam artists," Franks said. "Also how they find bait dogs for dog fighting. Someone take Haunt
into the backyard. Angus and I will handle these guys." Franks grinned at Angus. "Are we arresting or
letting them go?"
"Let's see what they say and check on the other dog before we decide." Angus looked at Lance.
"Tell Ray he did good work."
"He's here and heard you." Lance watched as Bethany, Cel, and Shelia took Haunt with them.
Glad the ghosts had the puppy, he nodded. "What do you need me to do?"
"Just watch and enjoy." Franks rubbed his hands together. "I hate scam artists."
Jeremy and Ray said something to each other, then walked through the wall, going into the front
yard.
Lance didn't worry about them. They couldn't do more than listen in, but he was grateful they
could do that. Ray saved Haunt from who knew what kind of treatment.
"Open the door and we'll talk to them. Franks, you take the car. I'll handle the guys at the door."
Angus nodded to Lance.
"You armed?" Franks asked Angus.
"Yeah." Angus nodded.
Lance knew that Angus had a gun at his ankle most of the time. He prayed they wouldn't need it.
Turning, he slowly opened the door.
"Hi, I'm Detective Young, and this is Detective Franks. We'd like to ask you a few questions."
Angus held out his shield for the man and teen to see.
The teen paled and took a step back, but the man smiled. "Sure, what's this about, Officers?"
Franks started toward the car. Lance saw Ray and Jeremy beside the car, probably listening to
the conversation going on inside.
"Could I see some ID?" Angus asked.
"Sure, but I left my wallet in the car. Let me just run back and get it." The man started to turn, but
as he did, the driver of the car started it and then peeled out, nearly hitting Franks as he took off down
the street.
Lance gasped but saw Jeremy and Ray fly into the car before it got away.
Franks and Angus both pulled their guns, aiming them at the man and boy.
"Some friends you have. They took off and left you to deal with us." Angus smirked at the man.
"Now, how about that wallet in your back pocket? Let's see some ID."
"Jeremy and Ray are in the car," Lance said softly, hoping only Angus could hear him.
Angus gave a slight nod.
The teen looked terrified and held up his hands.
"Take a seat on the grass," Franks told the boy.
"Wallet?" Angus took a step closer to the man.
"Fine." The guy pulled out his wallet and handed his ID to Angus.
"I'm just going to call this in. You got them?" Angus asked Franks.
Another random document with
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 Catherine’s heart gave a sudden leap. Of course! That was it!
Why had she not thought of that before? She was ill. That accounted
for her bad playing, the nurse, the doctor, everything.... When she
recovered she would be able to play again all right! Of course! What
a fool she had been! This was only illness ... illness. She began to
cry for joy at this new hope that had sprung up in her heart....

§4
Somebody (it looked like her father) was saying: “—if you want
friends, let them be girl friends.... Surely you can find plenty of your
own sex without——”
“—I can’t think what you want playing about with boys.... Girls
should stick to girls....”
And he pulled off his boots and flung them loudly under the
sofa.... Hr-rooch—flop ... Hr-rooch—flop ... and then his collar—
plock, plock....
“A girl of your age,” he went on, “ought not to bother her head
with fellers ... this sort of free-and-easy-carrying-on won’t do,
Catherine....”
And—“I can’t see what you need ever to be out later than nine for
... you’ve got all the daytime. I can’t think what you want the night as
well for ... it’s not as if you weren’t allowed to do what you like on
Saturday afternoons....”
And her mother, shrill and cacophonous:
“When I was young——”
Chorus of father and mother: “When I was young——”

§5
It must be a dream.
 If she ever had children of her own, would she say to them:
“When I was young——”
She pondered....
 CHAPTER XIX
AFTERWARDS
§1
UNFORTUNATELY her illness, whilst not serious in itself, left her
with neuritis in her right arm. Until she should be rid of this, any
restarting of concert work was out of the question. To play even a
hymn tune with her right hand fatigued her, and all scale and
arpeggio work was physically impossible. When she was quite
recovered from all save the neuritis, she spent most of her time
either reading or practising the left-hand parts of various concert
pieces. This latter exercise, whilst not very entertaining to her in the
musical sense, consoled her with the thought that her time was not
being entirely wasted, and that when her right hand should come into
use again her playing would be all the better for this intensive
development of her left. Every day she visited a masseuse in the
West-end and received an electric treatment for her arm which Dr.
McPherson recommended.
Money began to be somewhat of a difficulty with her. Thinking
always that her future was rosy with prospects and that her salary
would be sure to keep constantly increasing, she had never troubled
to save much, and had, indeed, been living slightly above her
income ever since she came to “Elm Cottage.” She paid twenty-five
shillings a week rent, seven and sixpence a week to Florrie, besides
a weekly half-crown to a visiting gardener and a charwoman. She
had heaps of incidental expenses—periodic tuning of the piano—her
season ticket to town—heavy bills for music, dresses and furniture
(which she was constantly buying)—her quarterly payment to the
press-cutting agency—books, magazines, expensive laundrying, a
fastidious taste in food and restaurants, all added to make her
expenditure a few shillings—sometimes a few pounds—per month in
excess of her income. During her illness, her income had been nil
and her expenses enormous. The nurse wanted two guineas a
week, Dr. McPherson’s bills were notoriously high, and in the case of
a person like Catherine he would probably charge more than usual.
Five shillings a visit was his fee, and for a fortnight he had come
twice a day, and for the last three weeks once. The West-end
masseuse was even more exorbitant: her fees were half a guinea for
each electric treatment lasting about half an hour. Household
expenses were becoming terrific. The nurse seemed to think that
Catherine was a person of infinite financial resources: she ordered
from the grocer, the butcher, the poulterer and the fruiterer whatever
she had a fancy to, in or out of season, regardless of expense. She
and Catherine took their meals together, and Catherine’s appetite
was never more than half that of the nurse. So the weeks passed
and the bills of the tradesmen went piling up and Catherine’s cheque
account at the bank came tumbling down.
One morning the bill from Parker’s, provision merchant, High
Street, Bockley, arrived by post. Catherine had expected a heavy
sum to pay, but the account presented to her was absolutely
staggering. It was for nineteen pounds five and fourpence. As
Catherine looked at it she went quite white with panic. She dared not
examine carefully every item—she was afraid to see her own
extravagance written down. But as her eye swept curiously down the
bill it caught sight of such things as: Port wane, half dozen, forty-two
shillings; pair of cooked chickens, eight and six; two pounds of black
grapes (out of season), fifteen shillings.... The bill took away all
Catherine’s appetite for breakfast. From the writing-bureau she took
out her bank pass-book: it showed that she had fifty-three pounds
four and nine on her cheque account, and nothing on her deposit
side. The situation became ominous. Out of that fifty-three pounds
would have to be paid the grocer’s bill of nineteen pounds odd, the
bills not yet forthcoming of the fruiterer, fishmonger, poulterer,
butcher, confectioner, and dairyman (cream had been a heavy item
in her diet). Plus this, small bills from the bookseller, newsagent,
tobacconist and laundryman. Plus this, whatever Dr. McPherson had
in store for her. Plus this, Madame Varegny, masseuse—her bill of
costs. In March, too, would come the bill from the press-cutting
agency, the piano-tuner, and the renewal of her season ticket.... All
out of fifty-three pounds! Was it possible? ... And, of course, rent and
wages to Florrie.... Things were evidently fast approaching a
financial crisis.
One thing was absolutely clear: she must economize drastically
and immediately. And one of the first steps in that direction was to
get rid of the nurse and the doctor. Except for the neuritis in her arm
she was really quite well now, and both nurse and doctor were
completely unnecessary. But it required a tremendous effort to tell
them their services were no longer required. Her illness seemed to
have sapped her will power. The truth was (though she would never
have admitted it) she was afraid of both the doctor and the nurse.
Only her greater fear of the avalanche of the bills that was
threatening her gave her a sort of nervous determination.
When Dr. McPherson came in his car at ten o’clock that morning
her heart was beating wildly. She wondered even then if her courage
would be equal to the task.
“Good morning,” he announced genially, walking briskly into the
breakfast-room, “and how are we this morning? Getting along
famously, eh?”
“About the same,” she replied dully.
“Like the massage?”
“Fairly. I can’t feel it doing me any good, though.”
“Oh, you haven’t been having it long enough yet. We’ll soon set
you up again, you wait.... After all, you’re young. You’ve the best part
of life before you. An old lady of seventy I visited yesterday said if
she were only——”
“Doctor!” Her voice was trying to be firm.
“Yes?”
“I want you to stop visiting me.” (The thing was done!)
“But—my dear young lady—why ever——?”
 “Because I am getting very short of money, and I shall have to
economize. I really can’t afford to keep having you visiting me every
day.”
“Well—of course—h’m—if you wish—I suppose. But you aren’t
well yet. I shall, at any rate, with your permission call occasionally
not as a doctor, but as a visitor. I am very deeply interested in your
recovery.”
“It is very kind of you.... And one other thing: I want you to tell the
nurse to go also. I really don’t need her any longer. Perhaps, since
you brought her here, you wouldn’t mind——”
“Certainly, if you desire it. I’ll tell her when she comes to the
surgery for the medicine this afternoon.”
“Thank you ever so much.”
“You’ll continue with massage treatment?”
“Yes—for the present, at any rate.”
“Good ... you’ll begin to feel the effects of it in a day or two.... The
weather is enough to keep anybody with neuritis. Simply rain, rain,
rain from morning till night. Shocking for colds and influenza. I have
over thirty cases of influenza. Twenty of them are round about High
Wood. It must be the Forest, I think, everything so damp and
sodden....”

§2
The nurse went the following morning. Before going by one of the
early trains from Upton Rising she cooked herself a sumptuous
breakfast of ham and eggs, fish and coffee. She was going to her
home in Newcastle, and she took with her for refreshments on the
journey several hardboiled eggs, a bottle of invalid’s wine, and two
packages of chicken sandwiches. Coming up to Catherine’s
bedroom just before departure she shook hands very stiffly and
wished her a swift recovery. But her attitude was contemptuous.
 After she had gone, Catherine called Florrie up to her and
delivered a sort of informal speech.
“You know, Florrie, that lately, while I’ve been ill, expenses have
been very high. And of course I haven’t had any money coming in at
all. Well, I haven’t got enough money to keep us spending at the rate
I have been, so I’ve had to cut down expenses drastically. The nurse
has gone for good and the doctor isn’t going to call so often.... You
must be careful not to waste anything. Don’t order from the grocer’s
anything that isn’t necessary. You’d better let me see the order
before you give it.... No fruits out of season ... we needn’t have meat
every day, you know ... and tell the gardener he needn’t come again
until further notice. There’s not much gardening to be done this time
of the year....”

§3
A few days later came more bills.
Brigson’s, dairyman, High Road, Bockley, £4 0s. 3d.
Mattocks’, poulterer, The Causeway, Upton Rising, £8 9s. 0d.
Ratcliffe and Jones, confectioners. High Street, Bockley, £3 12s.
5d.
Thomas and Son, fruiterers, The Ridgeway, Upton Rising, £7 4s.
3d.
Hackworth, newsagents, High Wood, £2 0s. 8d.
Dr. McPherson, St. Luke’s Grove, Bockley, for services ... £15
12s.0d.
Total, £40 18s. 6d.!
Plus Parker’s bill, £60 3s. 10d.!
And she had £53 4s. 9d. to pay it with!
And there were yet a few more bills to come in!
 And expenditure was still continuing, and no sign of being able to
start earning again!
Madame Varegny was costing money at the rate of three guineas
a week. There was not even fifty-three pounds four and nine in the
bank, for Catherine had drawn out ten pounds for pocket money and
half of that had gone on small expenses. She was faced with a
problem. There was bound to be a big deficit on her balance-sheet....
When the first shock of the situation passed away she became quite
cool and calculating.
She wrote cheques in payment of Parker’s, Mattocks’, Ratcliffe
and Jones’, Thomas and Sons’, and Brigson’s bills. For they were
shops at which she was forced to continue dealing, and which would
have refused her credit if she had not settled promptly.
McPherson, she decided, could wait awhile....
On the bill of Hackworth, newsagents, she noticed items for
books which she had never ordered. She enquired at the shop one
day and was shown the detailed list. It included some, score paper-
backed volumes by Charles Garvice.
“But I never ordered these!” Catherine protested.
Mr. Hackworth shrugged his shoulders.
“You’ve ’ad ’em, anyway, miss. The nurse uster come in of a
morning and say: Mr. Hackworth, I want the Moosical Times for this
month——”
“Yes, I know about that: I did order that——”
“Well, an’ then the nurse’d say afterwards: I want them books on
this list, an’ she giv’ me a bit o’ piper with ’em written down on.... Put
’em all down on the sime acahnt? I uster arst, an’ she uster sy: Yes,
you’d better....”
Catherine was more angry over this than over anything else.
At home in the kitchen she discovered Florrie reading one of
these paper-backed novels.
“Where did this come from?” she enquired sternly.
 “Out of the bottom cupboard,” replied Florrie, conscious of
innocence; “there’s piles of ’em there. The nurse left ’em.”
Sure enough the bottom cupboard was littered with them. Their
titles ran the entire gamut both of chromatic biliousness and female
nomenclature. Catherine stirred them with her foot as if they had
been carrion.
“Look here, Florrie,” she said authoritatively. “Get. rid of all this
trash.... There’s a stall in Duke Street on a Friday night where they
buy this sort of thing second-hand. Take them down there next
Friday and sell them.”
Florrie nodded submissively.
“Yes, mum, I will ... only ... I’ve read ’em neely all, only there’s jest
a few I ain’t read yet; p’raps if I sowld the others I might keep ’em by
till I’d finished reading of ’em ... wouldn’t take me long, mum!”
Catherine half smiled.
“I can’t think why you like reading them at all.”
Florrie looked critically at the volume in her hand.
“Well, mum, they ain’t bad.”
“And do you really enjoy them?”
“Not all of ’em, mum ... but some of ’em: well, mum, they ain’t at
all bad....”

§4
Fourteen of the paper-backed novels on the following Friday
night fetched one and six at the stall in Duke Street. Florrie’s tram
fare both ways, fourpence. Net receipts, one and twopence....
An unexpected bill came in, £1 10s. 0d. for coal.
When Catherine went to the bank to draw five pounds (by means
of a cheque made payable to herself) the clerk said: “By the way,
miss, your cheque account is getting low.... Excuse me mentioning it,
but we prefer you not to let it get too low.... Say fifty pounds ... of
course, for a while ... but as soon as you can conveniently ... you’ll
excuse me mentioning it....”
Catherine replied: “Of course, I hadn’t thought about that. I’ll put
some more in shortly. Thanks for letting me know.”
But it sent her into a fever of anxiety.
How was she to get any money to put in?
One afternoon she was strolling about the garden when,
approaching the kitchen window, she heard voices. It was Florrie
talking to Minnie Walker, the barmaid at the High Wood Hotel.
Catherine did not like Minnie Walker coming to see Florrie so often,
particularly when they drank beer in the kitchen together. She
listened to see whether Minnie had come to deliver any particular
message or merely to have a drink and a chat and to waste Florrie’s
time. If the latter, Catherine meant to interfere and tell Minnie to go.
The conversation she overheard was as follows:
minnie. I s’pouse the food ain’t so good now the nurse ’as gone.
She wasn’t arf a beauty, eh?
florrie. She knew ’ow ter set a tible, anyway. Chicken every
night, I uster git. She had the breast, an’ uster leave me the legs. But
the old girl don’t do that now. Can’t afford to. Fact is, the nurse run
up some pretty big bills for ’er. She can’t py ’em all, I don’t think.
minnie. Then she is owing a good deal, eh?
florrie. I dessay. Corsts ’er ten and six a time fer this messidge
treatment wot she ’as evry dy. I know that ’cos the nurse said so.
minnie. Yer wanter look out she pys you prompt. ’Case she goes
bankrupt.
florrie. You bet I tike care o’ myself. Wait till she don’t giv me
my money of a Friday and I’ll tell her strite.
Catherine turned away burning with rage.
 That night when Florrie came up to lay the tea, Catherine said:
“By the way, Florrie, I give you a week’s notice from to-night.”
“Why, mum?”
“Because I don’t wish to have anybody in the house who
discusses my private business with outsiders.”
“But, mum, I never——”
“Don’t argue. I overheard your conversation. I don’t want any
explanations.”
“Well, mum, they do say that listeners never ’ear no good of
themselves, so If you will go key-’olin’ round——”
“Please leave the room. I don’t wish to talk to you.”
“Very well, mum. It it suits you, it suits me, ’m sure. It won’t be no
’ard job for me ter git another plice——”
“I have told you to go.”
“I’m goin’. By the way, there’s two letters wot come at dinner-
time.”
“Bring them up, then.”
“Yes, mum.”
A moment later she returned carrying on a tray two unsealed
envelopes with half-penny stamps. From the half-malignant, half-
triumphant look in her eyes, Catherine was almost sure she had
examined their contents.
After Florrie had gone, Catherine opened them.
More bills!
Peach and Lathergrew, butchers, High Road, Bockley, £6 16s.
2d.
Batty, fish merchant, The Causeway, Upton Rising, £5 5s. 10d.
The crisis was coming nearer!
 §5
The persistent piling up of disaster upon disaster inflicted on her
a kind of spiritual numbness, which made her for the most part
insensible to panic. The first bill (the one from the grocer’s) had had
a much more disturbing effect on her than any subsequent one or
even than the cumulative effect of all of them when she thought
about her worries en masse.
There came a time when by constant pondering the idea of being
hopelessly in debt struck her as a very inadequate reason for
unhappiness. But at odd moments, as blow after blow fell, and as
she slipped insensibly into a new stratum of society, there would
come moments of supreme depression, when there seemed nothing
in the world to continue to live for, and when the whole of her past
life and future prospects seemed nothing but heaped-up agony. Her
dreams mocked her with the romance of her subconsciousness. She
would dream that she was the greatest pianist in the world, that the
mightiest men and women of a hundred realms had gathered in one
huge building to taste the magic of her fingers, that they cheered and
applauded whilst she played things of appalling technical difficulty
until she had perforce to stop because her instrument could no
longer be heard above the frenzy of their shouting; that in the end
she finished her repertoire of difficult concert pieces, and in response
to repeated demands for an encore started to play a simple minuet
of Beethoven, and that at the simple beauty of the opening chords
the great assembly hushed its voice and remained tense and in
perfect silence whilst she played. And, moreover, that her quick eye
had noticed in a far and humble corner of the building Ray Verreker,
straining to catch the music of the woman whose fingers he had
guided to fame. He was in rags and tatters, and it was plain that
fortune had played despicably with him. But, amidst the thunderous
applause that shook the building when her fingers had come to rest,
her eye caught his and she beckoned to him to approach. He came,
and she held out both her magic hands to raise him to the platform.
“This is my master,” she cried, in a voice that lifted the furthest
echoes, “this is my teacher, the one whose creature I am, breath of
my body, fire of my spirit! The honour you heap upon me I share with
him!”
Beautifully unreal were those dreams of hers. Always was she
the heroine and Verreker the hero. Always were their present
positions reversed, she, famous and wealthy and adored, and he,
alone, uncared for, helpless and in poverty, unknown and loving her
passionately. Always her action was the opposite of what his was in
reality: she was his kind angel, stooping to his fallen fortunes, and
lifting them and him by her own bounty....
Beautiful, unreal dreams! During the day she had no time for
these wandering fictions: work and worry kept her mind constantly in
the realm of stern reality; but at night-time, when her determination
held no longer sway, she sketched her future according to her
heart’s desire and filled it in with touches of passionate romance. To
wake from these scenes of her own imagining into the drab reality of
her morning’s work was fraught with horror unutterable....
Worst, perhaps, of all, her arm did not improve. It seemed as if
the three guineas’ worth per week of electric massage treatment
were having simply no effect at all, save to bring nearer the day of
financial cataclysm. And even if her neuritis were now to leave her,
the long period during which she had had no practice would have left
unfortunate results. Even granted complete and immediate recovery,
it would be fully a month, spent in laborious and intensive practising,
before she dare play again in public. Then, too, it would be
necessary for her to play brilliantly to retrieve the reputation
tarnished by her performance at the New Year’s concert. Moreover,
she had no organizer now, and she did not know quite what the work
entailed by that position was. And she felt nervous of playing again,
lest she might further damage her reputation.
But as long as she could not use her right arm these difficulties
were still hidden in the future.
Bills began to pour in by every post. Possibly Minnie Walker had
used her unrivalled position for disseminating gossip to spread
rumours of Catherine’s financial difficulties. At any rate, from the
saloon-bar of the High Wood Hotel the tale blew Bockleywards with
marvellous rapidity, and caused every tradesman with whom
Catherine had an account to send in his bill for immediate payment.
There were bills from shops that Catherine had forgotten all about.
Photographers, picture-framers, dyers and cleaners, leather-goods
fanciers, all contributed their quota to the gathering avalanche of
ruin. When every conceivable bill had arrived and had been added to
the rest, the deficit on the whole was over a hundred and twenty
pounds. This included a bill of over thirty pounds from a West-end
dressmaker’s. Catherine had got past the point when this appalling
situation could have power to frighten her. She just gathered all the
unpaid bills into one small drawer of her bureau, rigidly economized
in all housekeeping expenses, and looked around the house for
things she did not want and could sell for a good figure.
There was the large cheval glass in her bedroom. It was curious
that she should think first of this. It was one of a large quantity of
toilet furniture that she had bought when she first came to “Elm
Cottage.” It was a beautiful thing, exquisitely bevelled and lacquered,
and framed in carved ebony, She had liked it because she could
stand in front of it in evening dress and criticise the whole poise and
pose of herself. She had been accustomed to let down her hair in
front of it at night and admire the red lustre reflected in the glass.
Hours she must have spent posing in front of it. And yet now, when
she contemplated selling, this was the first thing she thought of....
Curious! ... The fact was, she was getting old. Or so she felt and
thought. Her hair was becoming dull and opaque; there were hard
lines about her eyes and forehead. Never beautiful, she was now
losing even that strange magnetic attractiveness which before had
sufficed for beauty. So the cheval glass which reminded her of it
could go....
She called at Trussall’s, the second-hand dealers in the Bockley
High Road, and told them about it. They offered to send up a man to
inspect it and make an offer. Catherine, too, thought this would be
the best plan. When she arrived back at “Elm Cottage” she diligently
polished the ebony frame and rubbed the mirror till it seemed the
loveliest thing in the room. She even rearranged the other furniture
so that the cheval glass should occupy the position of honour.
 The man came—a gaunt little snap-voiced man in a trilby hat. Did
he fail to notice how the lawn was growing lank and weedy, the
flower-beds covered with long grass, the trellis work on the pergola
rotting and fallen?
He tapped the mirror in a business-like fashion with his nail and
examined cursorily the carving.
“H’m,” he said meditatively. “We’ll offer you five pounds for it.”
Catherine flushed with shame.
“Why,” she cried shrilly, “I paid forty guineas for it, and it was
priced at more than that!”
He coughed deprecatingly.
“I’m afraid we couldn’t go beyond five, ma’am.” If he had not been
slightly impressed by the vehemence of her protest he would have
added: “Take it or leave it!”
“Come downstairs,” she commanded, “I want you to value a few
things for me.”
The fact was that she was prepared to be ironically entertained
by the niggardly sums he offered. She brought him to the piano.
“Here,” she said, “a Steinway baby grand, splendid tone, good as
new, fine rosewood frame; what’ll you offer for that?”
He thumped the chord of A major.
“Sixty,” he replied.
“Sixty what?”
“Pounds ... might go to guineas.”
“Look here, do you know I paid a hundred and twenty guineas
less than twelve months ago for it?”
“All I know, ma’am, is it ain’t worth more than sixty to me.”
“But it’s practically new!”
“That don’t alter the fact that it’s really second-hand. There’s no
market for this sort of thing. Second-hand uprights, maybe, but not
these things. Besides, it ain’t a partic’lar good tone.”
“I tell you it’s a lovely tone. Wants tuning a bit, that’s all. D’you
think you know more about pianos than I do?”
“Can’t say, ma’am, whether I do or I don’t.”
“Do you ever go to London concerts?”
“No time for it, ma’am.”
“Have you ever heard of Catherine Weston?”
“The name ain’t familiar to me. What about ’er?”
Catherine paused as if to recover from a blow, and continued
more calmly: “She said this piano had a lovely tone. She played at
the Albert Hall.”
The man ground his heel into the carpet.
“Well, ma’am,” he replied, “if Miss Catherine Weston thinks this
piano is worth more than sixty pounds you’d better ask her to buy it
off of you. All I’m saying is this, it ain’t worth no more to me than
what I offered. Sixty pounds, I said: I dunno even if I’d go to sixty
guineas. Take it or leave it for sixty pounds. That’s my rule in this
business. Make an offer and never go back on it, an’ never go no
further on it. That’s what I calls fair business. If you think that you
can get more’n sixty anywhere else you can try. I ain’t arskin’ you to
let me ’ave it. Reely, I dunno that I want it. I might ’ave it takin’ up
ware’ouse room for months on end.... But of course if you was to
come back to me after trying other places I couldn’t offer you no
more’n fifty-five—guineas, maybe. Wouldn’t be fair to myself, in a
kind of manner.... Sixty—look ’ere. I’ll be generous and say guineas
—sixty guineas if you’ll sell it now—cash down, mind! If not——”
She laughed.
“I’ve really no intention of selling at all,” she broke in, half
hysterically, “I only wanted a valuation.”
“Oh! I see,” he replied, taken aback. “Then wot about the glarss
upstairs, eh? Five pounds is wot I said.”
 “Make it guineas,” she said firmly.
“Pounds, ma’am.”
“Five guineas,” she cried shrilly, “or I shan’t sell it.” The bargain
demon had seized hold of her.
“It ain’t worth more’n pounds to me.”
“Then I’ll keep it.... Good afternoon.”
She turned to the door. He shuffled and sat down on the piano-
stool.
“Well, ma’am, I’ll say guineas, then, as a favour to you. Only
you’re drivin’ a hard bargain with me.... Do you agree to guineas?”
“Yes ... I’ll take five guineas for it ... cash down.”
“The man’ll pay you when he comes to fetch it, ma’am.”
“I thought you said cash down.”
“Well, and ain’t that cash down enough for you? Wot do you
expect? ... I’ll send the man down in a couple of hours.”
“All right, then ... good afternoon.”
At the door he said:
“By the way, ma’am, I’ll keep that offer of sixty guineas for the
piano open for a few days ... so that if ...”
She replied hastily: “Oh, I’m not going to sell that.”
“Very well, ma’am ... only I’ll give sixty for it if you should want to
get rid of it.”
Then she came back to the piano and looked at it, and did not
know whether to laugh or to cry.

§6
That evening the man came to fetch the cheval glass. He gave
her five sovereigns and two half-crowns. Though she knew that the
glass was worth double and treble what she was receiving for it, she
was immensely pleased by that five shillings which she had
extracted solely by her own bargaining.... The rent-man called that
night and nearly all the five guineas vanished in the month’s rent....
And by the late evening post came a demand note from Jackson’s,
the photographers, printed on legal-looking blue paper, and
informing her that if the bill of seven pounds ten and six were not
paid within three days, legal proceedings would be instituted.... And
it was Jackson’s in the old days where she had always met with such
unfailing courtesy and consideration, Jackson’s where her
photograph as an Eisteddfod prize-winner had been taken and
exhibited in the front window free of charge....
She called at Trussall’s the next morning.
“About that piano,” she began.
The man was immediately all attention.
“You wish to sell it, ma’am? ... Well, my offer’s still open.”
“Yes, but I want a smaller piano as part exchange. I can’t do
without a piano of some sort.... I want an upright, not such a good
one as the other, of course.”
“Come into the showrooms,” he said, beckoning her to follow.
They wandered up and down long lanes of upright pianos.
“This,” he said, striking the chord of A major (always the chord of
A major) on one of them—“Beautiful little instrument ... rich tone ...
upright grand ... good German make—Strohmenger, Dresden ...
worth forty pounds if it’s worth a penny, sell it to you for thirty-five
guineas....”
“Can’t afford that,” she said. “Show me something for about
twenty.”
“There’s this one,” he said, rather contemptuously. “Good English
make ... eighteen guineas ... cheapest we have in the shop. But, of
course, you wouldn’t want one like that.”
She struck a few chords.
 “I’ll take that ... and you can send it up and take the other away
as soon as you like.”
“Very good, ma’am.”
When she returned she had a sudden fit of sentimentality as she
looked at the Steinway grand. It was a beautiful instrument, black
and glossy and wonderfully sleek, like a well-groomed horse. Its
raised sound-board reflected her face like a mirror. She sat down on
the stool in front of it and tried to play. But her right hand was
woefully disorganized. She started a simple minuet of Beethoven,
one that she had played as an encore to a Cambridge audience, but
the pain in her right hand and arm was so great that she did not go
further than the first few bars. Then she tried trick playing with her
left hand alone, and when that became uninteresting there was
nothing for her to do but to cry. So she cried....
When the furniture van had arrived and a couple of men had
carried the beautiful piano into a dark cavity of straw and sackcloth,
leaving behind them in exchange a mocking little upstart in streaky
imitation fumed oak, not even the presence in her bureau drawer of
sixty pounds in notes and gold could compensate her adequately.
The new piano looked so cheap and tawdry amongst the
surrounding furniture, and the space where the old one had been
was drearily vacant and ever remindful of her loss.
The same day she wrote cheques to half a dozen tradesmen,
and as she went out to post them, put fifty pounds into her cheque
account at the bank. She felt that slowly, at any rate, she was
winning in her contest with fortune.

§7
Unfortunately the avalanche of bills had not yet quite spent itself,
and Madame Varegny suggested an interim payment of her account,
amounting to thirty-two treatments at half a guinea each: total
sixteen pounds sixteen.
 And then one night as Catherine was lying awake in bed, the
whole fabric of the future seemed revealed to her. After all, her first
steps were inevitable: she would have to leave “Elm Cottage,” take a
smaller house or go into lodgings, and sell what furniture she had no
room for. It would be better to do that now than to wait until the
expensive upkeep of “Elm Cottage” had squandered half her assets.
She was so accustomed now to her gradual descent in the social
scale that even this prospect, daring and drastic as it was, did not
perturb her much. The next day she went round the house, noting
the things that she could not possibly take with her if she went into a
smaller house or into lodgings. Lodgings she had in mind, because
her arm prevented her from doing any but a minimum of housework,
and if in lodgings she could pay for any services she required.
She did not go to Trussall’s this time to arrange for a valuation of
what she desired to sell. For some days before she had been
walking along the High Road past Trussall’s window, and had had
the experience of seeing her own ebony-framed cheval glass
occupying a position of honour in the midst of a miscellany of
bedroom bric-à-brac. On a card hung on to the carving at the top
was the inscription:
Antique model. Splendid Bargain, £19 19s. 6d.