CHAPTER THIRTY
That night, after shoveling down a bowl of Spaghettios, Nonie went into the bathroom, took a shower and brushed her teeth.
Feeling exhausted, she went into her bedroom, got into bed and rolled over on her stomach, pulling her pillow in close. Her body still vibrated from the buffing machine that had bucked her around the funeral home most of the afternoon. She was tired physically and mentally. Tired of dead people. People who’d died by natural causes, by murder, the ones who were dead but refused to move on. She just wanted to be left in peace and get a good night’s sleep.
No sooner did that thought cross her mind than Nonie heard someone whisper, “Psst,” in her left ear. She groaned and rolled over on her back. Guy was standing over her.
“You know you’re going to kill me, right?” Guy said.
Nonie rubbed an eye with the back of her hand. “What the heck are you talking about? You’re already dead.”
“My heart, Nonie. You’re going to kill my heart.”
“I can’t kill it. It’s already dead.”
“How can it be dead if I feel so much love for you?”
“Can we have this conversation again tomorrow? I’m really burned out.”
“I heard you talking to that deputy and you agreeing to go to the festival with him. You’re going to dinner with that Jack Sprat guy, too.”
“Quit calling him that. It makes you sound like a kindergartener.”
“I’ve got the right to call him whatever I want.”
“Stop,” Nonie whined. “I just want to get some sleep. Go play with Helen or something.”
“It almost feels like you’re two-timing me,” Guy said. “How would you feel if I was going out with two different women, all the while claiming I loved you?”
“You want to go out with two different women, have at it. I don’t know what else to tell you.”
“You barely give me the time of day anymore.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been a little busy lately. Puuulease can we talk about this tomorrow?”
Guy sighed. “You haven’t even let me give you the present I told you about the other day.”
Nonie opened one eye and looked at him. “You told me your present was showing me that you could move stuff around. So I’ve already gotten it.”
“That wasn’t the real present. This is.” He leaned over, and Nonie felt a whisper of a touch against her lips as he pressed his to hers. His lips were surprisingly warm, like when he was alive. So soft, so passionate. It brought tears to Nonie’s eyes. His kiss made her hungry for more of him. She needed more.
When Guy broke the kiss, Nonie groaned.
“There’ll be more,” Guy said. “The better I get at manipulating things in this world, I’ll get better at physically loving you. You’ll feel my lips better. You’ll feel me better. I have to practice, and I have been really hard. See, that’s why I don’t want you with other men. You’re mine. Eventually, maybe not right now, but eventually, I’ll be able to give you all you need.”
“Oh, Guy,” she said, feeling so confused. How was it possible for a dead man’s lips to feel so warm, so deliciously passionate?
Evidently taking her words as a sign of acceptance, Guy moved the covers up closer to her chin and kissed her lightly on the forehead.
“I’ll be quiet and let you get some sleep,” Guy said. “Helen needs some help from me tonight anyway, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With that Guy blipped out of sight, leaving behind a slight chill in the air.
Nonie turned on her side, then onto her stomach, then back on her side. Restless now. What was she supposed to do? She struggled with guilt, with desire. Life was becoming a struggle. Especially now that word was going around town that she saw dead people. It had to be Tatman who started the rumor after he heard the audio of her speaking to Helen. Now that she’d discovered Anna Mae’s body, word would spread even faster. A gossip fire gone amok.
Nonie blew out a frustrated breath and slammed a fist into her pillow, mauling it into a more comfortable shape. She wondered if she’d made a mistake getting involved in the paranormal investigations, then thought about the thousand-dollar check sitting in her kitchen drawer. The money was great, she had to admit it. But what was it going to cost her in the long run? Was she going to be dragging more ghosts home? And what about Tatman and Shaundelle now that they suspected she saw spirits. Would that change their team dynamics?
Closing her eyes, Nonie told herself she’d simply have to be more careful during the investigations. Not talk to what others perceived as thin air. She’d have to force herself to unsee whatever ghosts she saw. Otherwise she’d slip again and get busted. The problem had been that she’d spoken to Helen and Tiana. If she had acted like they weren’t there or used some kind of signal with Buggy like they originally planned to let her know spirits were around, the rumors wouldn’t have started. It was all her fault. Not Tatman’s or Shaundelle. If the shoe had been on the other foot, she’d have probably told Buggy that Tatman talked to ghosts. Problem was that word had already gotten out. No matter how careful she was on other investigations, she might already be too late to squelch the rumor mill.
That’s all she needed. Two men wanting to date her, a dead man sworn to love her forever, and the town of Clay Point thinking she was the next Edgar Cayce.
What a life. Sewing labels on men’s underwear had sure been a lot easier than this. The only thing she’d had to worry about back then was making sure the labels were straight. Now the only thing that seemed to be straight in her life was a road to ruin. The next investigation was at an insane asylum. Heaven only knew what would follow her home from there.
THE END
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