Must Love Ghosts (5 page)

Last night, he'd left Tia's with the urn and the dog tags. Billy came along docilely and spent the night telling Dec the many stories of his life, both the mortal and the ghostly parts. Near dawn, he gave one big yawn, said, “See ya, kid,” and disappeared. Dec had transferred the video to his laptop, showered quickly, and headed to his cousin's house, making a stop on the way for coffee and doughnuts.

“I don't believe this,” he said. “I've got a ghost so real he could give legitimacy to our entire profession and you're telling me it's no good.”

“You've always cared too much what the world thinks of ghost hunters. We know what we do, why it's important. Most of the world isn't ready to believe in ghosts. Screw 'em.”

Essentially the same thing Dec's mother had always told him, though his mom put it a little more delicately. Except when she and his dad got into one of their screaming matches about their son's budding paranormal sensitivity. His dad had never been a believer. Dec was the one sore spot in their otherwise-happy marriage. His father hadn't wanted a ghost hunter for a son.

“There's got to be something we can use. You should see this ghost. He's incredible.”

The phone rang and Ryan held up a hand. “'Yello,” he said, munching more doughnut.

There was a long silence while Ryan listened to whoever was on the line, and Dec fished a state championship trophy out of a milk crate. He had the same trophy, probably in storage, stuffed in one of the boxes he'd cleared out of his parents' house when they died. High school baseball was the closest he and Ryan had come to glory. Didn't seem to bother Ryan.

His cousin was probably right. No one would believe that video. Fine, he'd get better evidence. Billy could give him the validation his profession deserved. He had plenty of time. Tia had her big dinner tonight, and Billy had promised to stay at Dec's place, unseen by Tia's guests. If Billy kept his word, Tia would no doubt win the grant and that dumbass Richard would pop the question. She'd get everything she wanted in one brilliant night.

“You bet. I've got four slots booked for tonight's Ghosts of Boulder tour,” Ryan was saying. “You'll love it.”

A minute or two later, he hung up and looked back at Dec. “Great news. You can drive the bus tonight and make up for ditching me last night.”

For the past few months, Dec had picked up shifts working as a tour guide in his cousin's business. He could just imagine the look on Tia's face if she found out he drove a beat-up old bus around town at night, pointing out haunted places to tourists and drunk college kids. He'd carefully kept that tidbit from her when they were dating. If he could figure out how to go public with Billy, his days of driving a tour bus would be over.

Dec shook his head. “Not tonight. I've got plans.” And thank God for that.

“Come on. Easy money, and we both know you need it.”

“So do you.” A sound like a herd of elephants running from a platoon of lions came from the floor above their heads. They both looked up. “How do three kids make so much noise?”

“Damned if I know,” Ryan said cheerfully. Family life might be giving him a few gray hairs and the beginnings of a gut, but he didn't seem to mind. He and his wife Beth were disgustingly happy. “Where'd you find this ghost? Even with the rash of confirmed hauntings the last few weeks, I haven't heard rumors of a ghost as corporeal as this one.”

Dec picked up his to-go cup of coffee and took a slow sip before answering. “Friend of mine called. The ghost is her great-uncle. Seems the grandmother kept his existence to herself—or at least, no one believed what she told them. My friend inherited her great-uncle's urn, dog tags, and his ghost.”

“You don't have any friends.”

“I have friends.”

Ryan snorted. “You hang out here and you work. At least that's what you've been doing lately.” He took another bite of doughnut and shot Dec the kind of
Dad
look he probably gave his kids when he suspected they were hiding something. “Funny. That blond chick in the video looks familiar. Isn't she the little hottie who broke your heart and left you a shell of the man you used to be?”

Dec kept his game face on. “Where do you come up with that crap?”

Ryan grinned. “Beth and I have a little bet going. If you're engaged by the end of the year, I have to build her a new deck. Oh, and she says Nina wants to be a flower girl.”

Dec knew better, but he asked anyway. “And what did you bet?”

“I said no way that was going to happen. When I win the bet, I get a free weekend to build my office. You can help since you've got nothing better to do. In fact, we might as well build you an apartment in the basement while we're at it. Rate you're going, you're gonna be alone a long time.”

“Thanks, man.”

Chapter Three

If this dinner didn't end soon, Tia was going to scream.

She'd dimmed the lights on the wrought-iron chandelier, and the soft glow shone on her dark wood table. Cinnamon-colored tapers burned on either side of an arrangement of yellow tulips, and she'd thrown together a salad to go with the spinach lasagna and crusty bread.

“My, this recipe is a bit dry, isn't it?” Cassandra took another delicate bite of lasagna. She wore a powder blue Chanel suit older than Tia, and had thin white hair tortured into a tight perm. She hunched in her chair, her tiny body shrunken by age and the weight of knowing exactly how everything in the world should be done. “You should use more sauce next time, dear.”

Tia looked down the table at Richard, waiting for him to volunteer that he'd picked up the lasagna on the way here, but he didn't look up. Candlelight gleamed on his neat brown hair as he precisely cut a piece of lettuce with his knife.

On her right, Cassandra's grandson Jules cleared his throat. Julian “Jules” Jameson had gone to Yale with Richard before heading to Harvard Law. Now he was second in command of the Jameson Foundation. Next to him sat his husband Leo. Both of them were tall and slender, with the sophisticated good looks of Kennedy sons.

“Excellent wine.” Jules smiled at Tia.

Richard looked up. “I picked up a case on my last trip to Napa,” he said. “Lovely little boutique winery.”

Tia scowled.
She'd
discovered the wine on
their
trip to Napa following a psychology conference in San Francisco. Richard could at least give her some of the credit.

Not wanting to sound petty by correcting him, she took a deep breath and dipped a piece of bread into her little dish of olive oil. Richard was only getting on her nerves because her emotions were all stirred up by last night's incredible revelations. The paranormal was real. The ghost of her long-dead great-uncle Billy had moved into her house.

Dec hadn't betrayed her.

The words had beat a staccato rhythm in her head all day.
Dec hadn't betrayed her. Dec hadn't betrayed her.

Sure, he'd broken into her office, and that was something she'd hold him accountable for, but he hadn't been trying to con her or her patient. Relief washed through her again like a cleansing spring rain and made it hard for her to keep a silly grin off her face.

Not that it changed anything. She'd meant what she said last night. Dec conjured way too many strong emotions for them to live peacefully together. But maybe they could be friends.

“Dr. McGarry, we don't make many academic grants, but your work caught my eye.” Cassandra's thin lips stretched into a smile. “So rare in this day and age to find a young person like yourself with such rock-solid, old-fashioned values.”

“Well.” Tia fiddled with her fork. She prided herself on her moral compass, but as a scientist, she didn't let her personal beliefs drive her research. “I'm glad you approve. However, our research is really a separate thing from—”

“What Tia means to say,” Richard cut in smoothly. She shot him a quick glare. He knew she hated it when he spoke for her as though she were a toddler. “Is that we were both thrilled when our research findings mirrored our deeply held core beliefs. We believe in the sanctity of the family as strongly as you do, Mrs. Jameson.” He raised his wine glass. “To marriage.”

Cassandra, Jules and Leo echoed the toast. Tia raised her own glass reluctantly. That hadn't been the point she was trying to make, but she interpreted the look Richard sent up the table as a warning to let him do the smooth talking. Fine. This once.

Dec never spoke for her and he always respected her opinions. The thought caught Tia by surprise.

“We believe in the importance of your work.” Jules leaned toward Tia. “There's never been a divorce in our family. Not in generations.”

“That's right.” Cassandra nodded at Jules and Leo. “You see, Dr. McGarry, that although some of my ideas are old-fashioned, I'm not completely behind the times. We've welcomed dear Leo into our family and expect these two will have as successful a marriage as any Jameson.”

“Um. Yes, ma'am.” Not knowing what else to say, Tia forked up another bite of lasagna. Leo caught her eye and winked at her, clearly used to his grandmother-in-law's bluntness.

“Jules has told me all about your work.” Leo draped an arm casually over Jules's shoulder. “You've achieved a lot for someone so young, but I'm not entirely sure about all this love-as-biochemicals stuff. What about passion? Romance? Soul mates?”

Before Tia could answer, Cassandra chuckled. “Leo is the romantic in the family. I'm afraid funding research on marriage is a pet project of mine, not something typical for the foundation. But until I'm dead, the boys will have to humor me.”

“That's a long way off, I'm sure,” Richard said heartily. Inevitably, they all glanced quickly at Cassandra and away again. What an asinine thing to say about a woman who looked like she was pushing two hundred.

Cassandra's face pinched up even more, giving her a sudden resemblance to a rodent. “My goodness, I'm feeling cold. Jules, would you mind fetching my sweater from the entry?”

“Not at all, Grandmother.”

While Jules was gone, Richard lectured Leo on the finer points of their research into the nature of love and lust. Leo listened politely, forking up lasagna at regular intervals.

Jules returned and Cassandra wrapped herself in a creamy cashmere sweater. She pinned Tia with faded blue eyes. “Now, tell me, why aren't either of you married? I don't intend to fund two workaholics who won't benefit from their own research.”

“Grandmother, that really isn't any of our business,” Jules said.

“Nonsense. You know how I feel about people who don't practice what they preach.”

Richard gave Tia an intimate smile that almost made her gag. “Tia and I have a very close relationship.”

“How lovely.” Cassandra gave Tia an almost maternal look. If scary Dragon Ladies could be maternal. “Don't wait too long, dear. You're not getting any younger.”

Tia stuffed her mouth full of lasagna so she didn't have to respond.

A draft of cold air whistled through the dining room.

“Humpf.” Cassandra pulled her sweater tighter around her bony shoulders. “Drafty house.”

Tia put her fork down. Billy had promised to stay with Dec tonight. He wouldn't break his word, would he?

She forced herself to give a small laugh. “These old houses. My apologies. Sometimes being here alone on windy nights gives me the creeps.”

Cassandra sipped her water. “All the more reason for the two of you to get married sooner rather than later. I know it's the modern age and ladies live on their own now, but still. A man around the house is a useful thing.”

Tia gazed down the table at Richard. He precisely placed his fork on the edge of his plate, then dabbed his mouth with a napkin. She didn't think he'd be all that useful around the house. She was as capable as he was of picking up dinner on the way home or picking up the phone and calling a handyman.

Her mind flashed on a memory of Dec, shirtless, hanging a shelf in his apartment, the muscles in his arms and back rippling. He was the kind of man who'd be useful around the house.

A little shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran down her spine.

“My friends will tell you I'm something of a matchmaker,” Cassandra was saying, “and I can tell the two of you are perfectly suited. Just like myself and my dear husband Thornton, God rest his soul.”

Another draft of wind blew out the candles on the table and chilled the back of Tia's neck. The howl that accompanied the chill wind sounded exactly like every ghostly howl in every bad horror movie. A door slammed shut elsewhere in the house.

Uncle Billy was up to his old tricks.

“My goodness,” Cassandra exclaimed. “Really, Dr. McGarry, there's
drafty
and then there's
this
.”

Tia jumped to her feet and threw her napkin down on the table. This was bad. This couldn't be happening. “I must have left a window open. Please excuse me for a moment.”

Before she made it through the archway to the hall, a loud clumping noise stopped her. It sounded like someone was thunking across her bedroom, directly above the dining room.

“Is someone else in the house?” Richard asked, eyes on the ceiling.

“No!” With great effort, Tia controlled her voice. “No, of course not. It's, uh, my washing machine. I started a load earlier and forgot what a racket it makes. I have to remember to call a repairman. I'll turn it off while I shut the window.”

She escaped the room without daring to look anyone in the eye. She'd been an honest, straightforward person all her life and now she was an out-and-out liar. She'd lied to Dec yesterday about her engagement and now she was lying to the Jamesons and Richard. She was going to kill her great-uncle.

Except he was already dead. She shivered and raced up the stairs to her bedroom. Flipping on the lights, she cast her gaze around the room. Bed neatly made. Books stacked where they should be on her end table. The bottles of perfume and picture frames on her dresser hadn't been disturbed. No sign of Billy.

She stepped to the middle of the room. “If you're here,” she said in a low hiss, “knock it off. You promised.”

No response.

“This night is incredibly important to me. You have no right to ruin my life because you're fond of dumb jokes.”

Maybe she shouldn't have said that. Her grandmother always told her you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

“Please.” All she could manage was a stiff plea. “Please don't do this.”

A door down the hall slammed.

Tia's heart dropped to her knees. “Shit!”

“Tia? What's going on up there?” Richard's voice floated up the stairs, a definite note of tension evident.

She raced back down the hall. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, and she smiled to reassure him. “Sorry about that. There's a window open upstairs too. I'm shutting it now. Such a windy night!”

“I don't recall wind in the forecast,” she heard Cassandra say in a tone that implied the National Weather Service should personally call her if they changed their predictions.

Tia whirled around and headed for the spare bedroom she'd turned into an office. She plucked her cell phone from its charger on her desk and called Dec.

“I'm on my way to your house,” he said the moment he answered. “Billy disappeared five minutes ago.”

Dec's deep voice filled her with comfort, which was so ridiculous she whacked herself in the forehead. “Why is he doing this? He
promised
.”

“I asked him that when he said he was going to visit you. He says he had his fingers crossed when he made the promise.”

“Oh my God, is he twelve? Dec, you have to stop him. This is going to
ruin me
.”

“I'll be there in two minutes. Meantime, you might want to get rid of your guests. I didn't like the grin on Billy's face before he vanished.”

Dec ended the call.

How was she going to get rid of Richard and the Jamesons? They hadn't even finished the main meal and there was a chocolate cake very obviously sitting on the sideboard for dessert. Not to mention how awful it would be for their grant application if she hustled the Jamesons out of the house. How would she explain it to Richard?

Her stomach pitched and rolled like a ship in a storm. She was going to be sick.

She gasped.
The stomach flu!
Perfect. No one wanted to be around someone who was vomiting. Since she did feel sick to her stomach, it wasn't as bald-faced a lie as the others she'd told tonight.

She was halfway down the stairs when the music started. She couldn't tell where it was coming from, but she recognized the song, thanks to Nana. Glen Miller's
Stardust.
Tia rushed down the remaining stairs.

The Jamesons and Richard met her in the hallway.

Richard's smile was brittle with tension. “Dessert in the living room? Great idea.” He ushered the Jamesons into the room before she could stop him.

“I can't abide this song,” Cassandra said, her mouth puckered.

“Tia, why don't you change the music and I'll bring in the plates?” Richard grabbed her elbow, a look on his face that said he needed to speak to her privately, but she shook him off and walked around the perimeter of the room, trying to pinpoint the source of the music. Richard stared for a moment, then disappeared back to the dining room.

“Were you able to close the windows, Dr. McGarry?” Leo asked. “I don't mean to complain, but it's rather, well, freezing in here and Grandmother isn't in the best of health.”

“Is it? I'm so sorry, I hadn't noticed. I'll turn up the heat.”

“Thank you,” Leo said.

Cassandra drifted toward the photos on the mantel as Tia walked toward hall. The music was on the faint side. Maybe it was coming from another room.

The fireplace whooshed to life, red and orange flames bursting from the logs on the grate.

Cassandra's hand flew to her heart. “My goodness.”

Jules was at her side in an instant. “Are you okay, Grandmother?”

“Of course. Just a bit startled.”

Tia started to move forward, but Jules stopped her with a look. Good God, her uncle was going to kill the old lady. “I'm so sorry, Mrs. Jameson.”

Jules bent to examine the hearth. “How did that happen? This isn't a gas fireplace you turn on with a remote.”

“I, uh, I must not have put the fire out entirely last time. Careless of me. I'm really sorry.”

“Something strange is going on in this house,” Cassandra declared. Tia nearly sagged with relief that the old lady's voice was as strident as ever.