“Word around is that it has great potential,” Jack said. “Look at it this way. We can either waste our time hunting places that are maybes or stick to the ones that have a reputation for being haunted. I mean, have you ever heard of a haunted Walmart anywhere around the state?”
“No,” Shaundelle said.
“What about a haunted CVS?”
“No, but that don’t mean there ain’t one. We just ain’t found it yet.”
“Well, I haven’t heard of either. The bottom line is that the maybes won’t get you paid.”
Shaundelle sighed, her right foot tapping nervously on the floor. “Yeah, I guess you right about that.”
“Who’s picking out these locations anyway?” Nonie asked Jack. “You?”
“I did a lot of investigations with a few groups around the state and get word from them as to what locations have potential.”
“Well you sure got the last two right on the money,” Tatman said.
Nonie watched the group as they talked amongst each other, most of them blabbering about what they were going to do with their new checks. She and Jack were the only ones who remained silent, and she could see him watching her out of the corner of her eye. It made her nervous. What made her even more nervous was the thought of going to an old hospital and insane asylum. The money was nice, no doubt, but for once she hoped the reports were wrong, and the place was empty. With Helen having followed her home and Tiana showing up at Clara’s, she feared what might follow her back from that hospital. The last thing she needed was some insane ghost taking up residence in her house. Guy would have a hissy fit, and it would wind up being an all-out ghost war.
She blew out a quiet breath. Between Helen, Tiana, Anna Mae’s poltergeist activity and now the possibility of someone new from the insane asylum, it made her wonder. Maybe working at the funeral home wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It was nearing nine-thirty when Jack grabbed his computer bag and hoisted it over one shoulder. Everyone else was preparing to leave Nonie’s. He took his time, wanting to be the last to leave. Fortunately, he’d come alone. Buggy had hitched a ride to Nonie’s with Shaundelle and Tatman, so they’d be leaving together.
Everyone had been as excited as he’d hoped they’d be over the checks they’d earned and witnessing the evidence they’d collected. He wasn’t surprised when they’d questioned Nonie about who she’d been talking to. He’d done the same thing when they were on location.
Although a bit apprehensive, they seemed excited about the new hunt in north Louisiana on Saturday, which was only three days away.
“See you tomorrow, girl,” Buggy called out to Nonie as she headed out the door with Shaundelle.
Nonie smiled and waved. “Tomorrow.”
“Thanks for the grub and beer,” Tatman told Nonie as he followed Shaundelle to the door.
“Anytime,” Nonie said, then walked over to the doorway and gave them one final wave goodbye. She looked over her shoulder at Jack. “You heading out now?”
“In a couple,” he said, then got up from the couch and carried his empty beer can into the kitchen and tossed it into the trash.
Nonie stood at her front door, which was half-closed. She felt stuck. Should she leave it open and encourage Jack to leave or close it and be left alone with him?
When he walked back into the living room, Jack said,“You did a really good job. Not only with the investigation but from what I heard from the group, you did a pretty good job helping out at Clara’s. I don’t know how you did either but I think you’re a special person.”
Nonie lowered her head slightly, feeling her cheeks grow hot.
Jack stepped closer to her, and she held her breath. Before she realized what he was doing, Jack leaned over, tucked a finger under her chin, lifting her head so she had to see him. Then he kissed her. She froze under his touch, but only for a second, then her lips seemed to melt onto his.
Their kiss quickly turned passionate, hungry, and just as Jack pulled her closer to him so their bodies were touching, he suddenly slapped a hand to the side of his neck, which broke their kiss.
“Damn,” he said, then looked at his hand.
“What’s wrong?” Nonie asked.
“Felt like a bee sting on the back of my neck,” Jack said. He turned his head to one side. “Do you see anything?”
Nonie stepped to his side, moved his hair aside and examined his neck. “You’ve got a small red spot here, but it doesn’t look like a bite.”
“That’s odd,” Jack said. “It pinched like all get out.”
Nonie quickly dropped her hand from his neck and stepped back.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Nonie looked at him, then past him and saw Guy standing a few feet behind Jack. “Uh . . . nothing . . . nothing. I thought I heard something, that’s all.
Jack took her by the hand as if to recapture her attention. “About that dinner you agreed to . . . How about we make it this Friday night? Will that work for you?”
Nonie glanced over his shoulder before looking back at him. “I’d love to. Friday’s perfect.”
“Great. I’ll be here to pick you up about around seven. We’ll go to Randall’s in Lafayette. They have great seafood and steaks there.”
“Sounds wonderful. I’ll look forward to it.”
In that moment, Jack slapped a hand against the back of his neck again. “I don’t know if it’s fleas or some invisible bee, but something just stung me again.” He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyway, I’d better get going.”
Nonie gave him a hesitant smile and walked him to the door. Jack leaned over and gave her a small kiss goodnight.
“See you on Friday,” he said.
She nodded. “Seven.”
• • •
Jack stepped onto the porch and waited for Nonie to close the door, then headed for his van. When he reached it, he climbed inside, turned on the interior lights and angled the rearview mirror so he could check the side of his neck. He spotted a red welt forming but no pustule. He saw half-moon-shaped divots around the welt, like someone had pinched him with their fingernails. He scrubbed the back of his neck, straightened the rearview mirror, then backed out of Nonie’s driveway.
Now he was on countdown until Friday, and he knew she would be the only thing on his mind until then. The one passionate kiss they shared tasted like spring water to a man dying of thirst. Refreshing, breathless. He thought about how her slender body felt pressed against his, so firm, so perfectly proportioned. Her hair smelled of lavender shampoo and the scent of her skin, a mixture of cinnamon and freshly baked cookies that had drilled its way to his manhood like none other.
He glanced at the rearview mirror again, wishing he’d see Nonie’s reflection in it. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“What do you think you were doing kissing that guy? That Jack goddamn Sprat?” Guy demanded as soon as Nonie closed the door. He stood in the middle of the living room with his hands balled into fists at his sides. He’d been standing behind Jack as soon as Tatman, Buggy, and Shaundelle had left her apartment and had witnessed the date confirmation and the kiss. He knocked over a beer can that someone had left on the coffee table.
“Don’t get your drawers all stuck up in your butt,” Helen said, suddenly appearing beside Guy. “Just how hard is that head of yours? We’ve already had the discussion about you letting Nonie live her own life. What’s wrong with you?”
“That’s got nothing to do with kissing,” Guy said to Helen.
“What business did you have kissing that guy on the lips?” Guy demanded of Nonie. “You haven’t kissed a man since I died.”
“Not that you saw anyway,” Nonie shot back.
Guy gasped. “You mean you have kissed someone else?”
“I have been on other dates before,” Nonie said. “You know, like the times you’d go MIA and I could have a real date, wh
ich are rare. What did you think? That I suddenly went into a nunnery for nine years? I’ve got needs you know.”
“Oh, my God, are you saying you’ve had sex with other men?” Guy asked breathlessly.
“I’d be lying if I told you no,” Nonie said.
“Good for you, dear,” Helen said.
“Look, I’m getting pretty tired of your possessiveness,” Nonie said. “You don’t own me, Guy.”
“Oh, dear,” Helen said and backed away from Guy.
“And don’t even think about trashing my apartment again,” Nonie warned. “If you do, I’ll kick you out of here and not allow you back in. I’m tired of picking up your messes. If you’ve got a hissy fit to pitch, you can do it somewhere else.”
“He’ll calm down,” Helen said. “Won’t you, my boy?”
“I’m not your boy,” Guy said.
“Don’t you be ugly to Helen,” Nonie said. “She’s the only voice of reason you’ve got.”
Helen patted the sides of her hair as if to straighten her hairdo. “He just got a bit miffed when he saw you kissing that man, that’s all.”
“He had no business being here in the first place,” Nonie said. “I asked both of you to leave, but here you are, and he saw what he saw.”
“Yeah,” Guy said. “I saw it with both eyes. That man kissing you, and you kissing him back.”
“So you pinched him,” Nonie said. “That’s so damn childish, Guy.”
“Well, I could’ve punched him. Which would you’ve preferred I do?”
“Neither doggone it,” Nonie said. “You can act like a grown-up human being even though you’re dead. Not like a spoiled five-year-old.”
“You’ve got to admit, my pinching him got his attention. It got him out of here, didn’t it?”
“Who said I wanted him out of here?” Nonie fumed.
“I wanted him out, and that’s all there is to it,” Guy said with a quick nod.
“Is that why you did it? Just to get him out of my apartment?”
“Duh.”
“Look, I’m going to dinner with him on Friday whether you like it or not,” Nonie said. “And you’re definitely off-limits on that date. On the date, in the van, in the restaurant.”
“Well, I don’t like it, and I plan on being right there with you.”
“Oh, no, you’re not, mister,” Helen said suddenly. “You need to let her go on this date and decide for herself what she wants. The living or the dead.”
“Ms. Helen I appreciate everything you’ve taught me,” Guy said, “but when it comes to Nonie, she’s my girl. And I don’t want another man’s mouth on hers. I don’t want another man touching her. She’s my woman.”
Helen shook her head. “I just can’t get it into his thick head,” she said to Nonie. “He won’t listen. I keep telling him that he’s dead and you’re not, but all he wants to hear is that you’re his and that you belong to him.”
Nonie sighed. “Guy Philip Skinard, if you do anything to mess up my date on Friday, I’ll never speak to you again. Every time you show up in my apartment, I’ll kick you out. You need to think about that. If you want to spend any more time with me, then you need to let me try to live a normal life. At least go on dates.”
“So what you’re saying is you’re blowing me off,” Guy said. “That you don’t love me anymore.”
“Don’t pull the guilt trip thing with me, okay? Helen is right. You’re dead, in case you forgot. I’ll always love you, but how much of a future do I have with a dead man? I need a warm, male body in my life. I’m almost thirty-years-old. What am I supposed to do as long as you’re here? Dry rot until it’s time for me to pass on? Or go to a convent and become a nun?”
“But you’ve got to allow me to protect you from some of these guys,” Guy said. “The ones that want nothing more from you than a little poontang before they move onto someone else.”
“What do you know about men who only want poontang and then move on? Do you plan on interviewing everyone I want to date?”
“You’re planning to date?” Guy asked incredulously.
“You know what I mean. Answer the question.”
“Oh, I have my way of knowing. I’m a man myself, remember?”
“What you are is a ghost, remember?”
“Yeah, but I was a living breathing man not so long ago. I know how men operate. And I think Jack Sprat wants a little more from you than dinner and a conversation. I think he wants a bit of poontang.”
“That’s a stupid word, you know that? Poontang. Makes you sound like some kind of hick cowboy. Regardless, if there’s any poontanging going on, it’ll be my business and not yours. And if it does happen, I’d suggest you step out of the room. Out of the house. Out of Clay Point. Go on out to the bayou and have yourself a war dance or something. Get over it. Look, if you plan on sticking around, we’re going to have to come to some kind of terms. I can’t keep living like a monk the rest of my life. I love you, but if you love me the way you say you do then you owe me some kind of freedom.”
Helen nodded in agreement. “There’s no reason why she can’t love you and love someone who’s alive, Guy. You’re the one who chose to leave the light. Nonie didn’t make you stay here. There are a lot of women who lose their husbands and carry a love for them that will never die. But they remarry and move on with life. You’ve got to accept that same thing.”
“Whose side are you on anyway?” Guy asked, gawking at Helen. “I thought you were my friend.
“I am your friend. But I’m on the side of what’s right.”
“But I’m right here,” Guy said. “Right here. She can see me and feel me . . . sometimes. There’s no need for her to be taking on with someone else.” He turned to Nonie. “Why can’t you just love me? Why can’t it just be me? Nonie, my one and only. You always were and always will be. I could never be with another woman. Living or dead. You were always my entire life and still are. I wouldn’t know what to do without you. I know that puts a lot of pressure on you, and I’m sorry, but it’s how I feel. If you want me to go, I’ll go and won’t come back. If you feel that strongly about moving on with your life and not having me interfere, I can just disappear. You’d never have to see me again. Is that what you really want? You wouldn’t miss me even a little bit?”
Nonie’s heart ached from his words. “Guy, you know I love you, and, yes, I’d miss you terribly. But we’ve got to establish some kind of boundaries. I’m not telling you to leave permanently. I want you to find peace, too. I want you to find that welcoming light that you turned away from. That’s your destiny. That’s where you’re supposed to be right now. That’s the only way you can move on with your journey. There’s a lot more for you out there than there is for you here. All you experience here is frustration, especially where I’m concerned. I’m getting older and you stay at the same age. I don’t want to grow old and feeble alone.”
“You wouldn’t be alone, Nonie. I’d be there with you.”
“You know what I mean. Don’t make this any harder than it already is. I . . .I’d like to find a good man. One just like you, only one that can breathe and doesn’t blip out every now and again.”
Guy’s face clouded with hurt and anger. Without another word, he blipped out of sight. And for all the words Nonie had spoken, she felt anguish squeeze her heart. This time she feared Guy would never come back.
• • •
Guy found himself sitting atop a cypress tree in the bayou, right near the place where he’d had the boat accident that had killed him. He hadn’t meant to blip himself back here, but he supposed it was where he belonged. For without Nonie he’d die all over again. He didn’t know how to deal with what she was asking for. How could he just let her date other men? Kiss other men? Sleep with other men? She always was and still was his whole life. He didn’t want to leave her. He wanted to protect her.
If he could only make her understand that there were so many men out there just waiting to use her. If she wanted to
be with another man, then fine. That was something he’d have to learn how to deal with. But at least he could help her find the right one. She’d probably say it was none of his business, but it was. Nonie was always his business, ever since the day he’d proposed to her in high school. They’d promised to marry and have a brood of kids together. How could she just forget that?
Guy had never forgotten those promises. The ability to keep them was taken away, which was something he could do nothing about. He wanted to make her happy. That was the most important thing to him. He’d just have to find a way to make it work so she wouldn’t stay so frustrated with him all the time. She’d always be his Nonie. His one and only. But maybe part of his growth in this journey of death was learning how to share. Learn how to let go. It was the hardest lesson, the most difficult test he’d been given so far.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The next morning, Nonie arrived at the funeral home around 10 a.m. According to her dad, whom she’d spoken to before leaving home, there were no arrangements or viewings scheduled for today. That meant it would be a spit-and-polish day. The funeral home would get a thorough cleaning in preparation for its next event. Not that it really needed it. As far as Nonie was concerned, the funeral home was always in immaculate condition, when compared to her apartment anyway. But spit-and-polish days had been something they always did when things were slow, and doing something simply because that’s the way it had always been done was what her dad was about.
In preparation, Nonie had dressed in jeans and a pink T-shirt with a white anchor embossed on the front along with the saying “Never Sink,” written below it. The only good thing about cleaning days was it was the only time she could dress down and not have her mom ride her butt about it.
She parked her car in the visitor’s parking lot and made her way around the funeral home to the garage. There she found Fezzo, washing and waxing the hearse. Margaret stood not far away blatantly puffing on a cigarette.
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