You’re the One That I Haunt

by Terri Garey

  My insides melted like butter, even more so when Joe’s warm fingers laced with mine. I glanced up to see his eyes soft, and knew that however stupid I’d been today, I’d been forgiven, at least temporarily.

  Evan took a deep breath, looked at the box, then back at Butch. “You mean it?”

  “I mean it.”

  Only I knew how hard this was on my nearest and dearest buddy; only I knew the deep-seated insecurity behind the fashionable, clever façade he presented to the world. And only I knew how very, very much he wanted to take that box.

  And then everybody knew, because—hand shaking visibly—he reached out and took it.

  It was a ring box, of course, and when Evan opened it, his expression told me and everyone else exactly what he thought of what was inside.

  “I know we can’t get married,” Butch said, very low. He and Evan were the only people in the room as far as he was concerned. “But we can commit ourselves to each other. I had two of these made; one for you and one for me.”

  “Butch’s ring will be in tomorrow,” Jared piped in, beaming at Evan. He was a lot less nervous now, I noticed. “We had to add more platinum to the band.” Ignored by the happy couple, he looked again at Joe and me. “Big fingers, you know.”

  I wanted to laugh, to dance, to shriek with happiness, but didn’t dare.

  Evan was having a moment, and it wasn’t over yet.

  He swiped tears from his cheeks with his free hand, staring at the ring. “Would…would you put it on me?” he asked, voice wobbly.

  And before my eyes, a broken heart was mended as my Queen Supreme allowed Butch to be his Prince Charming. Never moving from his bent-knee position, Butchie made Evan’s fairy tale come true by slipping a platinum band onto his finger.

  “I have to go call my boyfriend,” Jared murmured, tearing up.

  And that’s when I allowed myself to shriek with happiness—I couldn’t hold it in anymore anyway—and rushed to the couch to give my oldest friend and my brand-new kinda sorta brother-in-law a hug.

  CHAPTER 17

  “Are you going to tell me why Evan left here clutching a lump of Play-Doh,” Joe murmured, “or do I not want to know?”

  I smiled as I gave a final wave to Evan, Butch, and the hapless Jared, closing the door. They were gone now, off to focus on their own lives, and leaving me free to focus on mine. I took Joe by the hand and started leading him down the hall toward my bedroom. “I’ll tell you all about it,” I promised, “right after I show you how much I love you.”

  Joe stopped. “Is that the liquor talking?”

  “No,” I teased, tugging at his hand, “I’m pretty sure Jack Daniel’s would have a deeper voice.”

  He didn’t respond to my teasing. “That’s the first time you’ve ever volunteered that you love me.”

  I frowned, confused. I’d told him so before, hadn’t I? Of course I had.

  “I usually have to say it first,” he clarified, squeezing my fingers.

  With a sigh at my own stupidity, I moved closer to him, letting go of his hand to wrap both arms around his neck. “I love you,” I said softly, looking into his eyes. “You are the man for me, Joe Bascombe.”

  A slow grin split his face. He locked hands behind my waist, pulling me tight against him. “Say it again.”

  So I did, happily, elated to find that it wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought to finally give my heart to someone, despite the fact that hearts were sometimes broken.

  As I’d just learned, as long as a broken heart still beat, there was a chance it could be mended. Life was full of second chances, and in my case, death was full of them, too.

  Which reminded me of Crystal, and the mess I was going to have to get myself into to earn her a second chance. Tomorrow. I didn’t need to worry about it tonight, which was a good thing, because Joe’s lips drove all other thought right out of my head.

  A vibration against my hip interrupted the kiss. “Is that a beeper in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” I murmured, kissing him again.

  “It’s the hospital,” he muttered, kissing me back. “I have to take it.” But it was a couple of kisses later before he did, reaching into his pocket with a free hand while keeping the other around my waist. “Damn,” he said, craning his neck around more of my kisses. “It’s Lisa.”

  Those two words had pretty much the same effect as a splash of cold water. I hadn’t forgotten what that stilettoed shark had said to Joe in his office earlier today. I knew what she was up to.

  “I need to tell you something,” I said, drawing back.

  “What is it?” To his credit, Joe gave my sudden stiffness more attention than he did Lisa’s page. “Is everything okay?”

  His pager beeped again.

  “I overheard what Lisa said to you in your office today.” Nothing like being blunt. “I know she wants you to dump me over this Crystal Cowart thing.”

  His eyebrows lowered.

  “I heard her flirting with you, hitting on you.”

  “Then you heard me turn her down.” He was still frowning, obviously waiting to learn how I knew.

  I smiled at him, relaxing as I leaned into him again. “I did. You were a very good boy.”

  Joe made an exasperated noise, shoving the pager back in his pocket. “How did you hear all this? Better yet, when were you going to tell me?”

  “It’s not like we’ve spent a lot of time together today, is it?”

  “That’s not my fault. I tried to reach you all afternoon, remember?”

  “Evan was having a crisis!”

  “I was having a crisis!”

  That took the wind out of my sails. “You were?” I am the worst girlfriend in the world.

  “Yes.” Joe’s green eyes were serious. “I came to a realization today, and I wanted to tell my girlfriend about it, but I couldn’t find her.” He put both hands on my waist and pulled me firmly against him, hip to hip. “She has this really bad habit of disappearing on me, particularly when there’s ghosts involved. Now tell me how you overheard my conversation with Lisa.”

  A realization? “It was Crystal,” I told him. “She tapped into your office phone somehow, turned on the speaker or something.” What realization? “She wanted me to hear how”—I hesitated—“how you might lose your job over me.”

  He sighed, tipping his head to the side. We were a perfect fit, he and I; no neck-craning or arm-stretching or tiptoes, just hard meeting soft in all the right places.

  “I can always get another job,” he said softly. “But there’s nobody else like you.”

  I teared up. I couldn’t help it.

  “You make me happy. You make me laugh. You make me nuts.” Joe’s lopsided grin made my heart flutter. “You’re unique. You’re fascinating. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

  My heart fluttered again. “You’re just saying that because you’re about to get lucky,” I said shakily, swiping tears from my cheek with one hand.

  He shook his head, still smiling. “You never give yourself enough credit, Nicki. The dark-eyed goth girl with a tough exterior and kind heart; not everyone could deal with the changes in her life the way you do.”

  I shook my head, burying it against his chest. “You make it sound like I’m some kind of saint.”

  “Absolutely not.” Joe’s tone turned a little wicked. “Thank heaven for that.”

  That was actually true; if I hadn’t been kicked out of Heaven because it wasn’t my time, I’d still be the shallow, selfish version of myself that existed a year ago.

  Before I met Joe. Before life had become truly worth living. Savored. Not to be wasted.

  “Let’s go into the bedroom,” I whispered, pulling his face down to mine. “And find heaven together.”

  The smell of coffee and a clatter of dishes brought me awake the next morning. I rolled over and cracked open an eye to find Joe standing by the bed with a tray. He was wearing nothing but a smile and his boxer briefs, Calvin Klein sports I’d picked o
ut myself.

  “Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he said, cheerfully. “How’s your head this morning?”

  “Not too bad,” I murmured, lying my ass off. It hurt, but that’s what you get when you drink too much whiskey on an empty stomach.

  “A big glass of water and some ibuprofen first,” he said, “then some coffee. Doctor’s orders.”

  The bed dipped as Joe got back into it, balancing the tray with ease. I dragged myself up against the headboard and ran my fingers through my hair, knowing it had to look pretty wild after the night we’d had. “That’s quite the bedside manner you’ve got there.” An achy head couldn’t keep me from appreciating the sight of a gorgeous man in his underwear. “If you’d done this in the hospital, I would’ve woken up a lot sooner.” My mouth was dry, but I was smiling.

  He laughed, handing me a glass of water. “Now why didn’t I think of that?” He watched me down the pills and gulp the water. “Truth be told,” he said, a devilish glint in his eye, “I did think of it. You looked pretty cute lying there with your hair all messed up, just like it is now. I had a fleeting thought about waking up with you someday, just like this.”

  Awwwwwww. Feeling better already, I closed my eyes just for a moment, resting my head against the headboard.

  “Coffee and toast when you’re ready.” He shifted, getting comfortable. “Didn’t see any jam, so I sprinkled it with a little cinnamon.”

  I opened my eyes and gave him my full attention. “Are you for real, or am I just having an incredibly erotic dream?” I was only teasing, of course—but having a half-naked man serve me breakfast in bed was hardly an everyday occurrence.

  His eyes crinkled. “I know my way around a toaster,” he said, taking a sip of coffee. He wagged an eyebrow. “It’s all in the hands.”

  Laughing, I threw back the covers and slipped from the bed, heading for the bathroom. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

  I was in there longer than I’d thought, in large part because my skin felt as dry as my mouth, so I washed up and took the time to moisturize. And then, because vanity is sanity, I dabbed on a little pink lip gloss and brushed my hair before coming out.

  Joe was still lying on the bed, but he didn’t look as happy as he had a few minutes earlier. He had a cell phone to his ear, and he was frowning. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Lisa.”

  Crap.

  He sat up, moving the tray aside. I had no doubt that if Lisa could see him now, flat-bellied and taut, moving with unconscious athletic grace, nothing would come between her and his Calvins.

  “This is bullshit.” The bitterness in Joe’s voice startled me. “You can tell the board I’m getting my own lawyer.” He hung up, flipping his cell phone shut with a definite click.

  “What’s happened?” Whatever it was, it had to be bad.

  “I’ve been temporarily suspended,” Joe said, flatly. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands gripping the mattress, “with pay. The board of directors thinks it’s a good idea for me to keep a low profile until a settlement is reached with the Cowart family.” His eyes were bleak. “A settlement, can you imagine?”

  The breath left my body in a rush. This was all my fault—all mine.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry.” Words weren’t enough.

  “A settlement means an admission of guilt.” He shook his head, eyes turned inward. “There was nothing I could’ve done for her. Nothing. She coded in the ambulance. By the time they wheeled her in, she’d already been unofficially declared. It’s all in the emergency-response records.” His eyes refocused, and he was back in the now. “How could those idiots ignore the facts when they’re right in front of them?”

  Because facts could be twisted, particularly when lawyers were the ones twisting them. Manipulative, bitchy lawyers who wanted their clients to lie down and play doctor.

  “What can I do?” I asked miserably, sitting on the bed beside him. His shoulder was tense beneath my palm.

  Joe’s mouth was a grim line. “Don’t worry about it, Nicki. I’ll handle it.”

  But that was the problem—Joe couldn’t handle it because it involved a pissed-off spirit and a horny devil. The only one who could make it all go away was me.

  “I know what to do,” I blurted, before I could lose my nerve. “But you won’t like it.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Tina Cowart lived in a trailer park on the outskirts of Dullsville, at the intersection of Nowhere and Nothing. If Google maps was to be believed, it was actually the tiny community of Bryantville, just northwest of Atlanta. The town’s biggest natural resource seemed to be empty pastureland, dotted with scrub.

  “You have to stay in the car,” I said to Joe, for the third time. “She’ll be more open to what I have to say without an audience.”

  “I’m not staying in the car,” he replied grimly, steering us past a broken-down mailbox and a dusty blue pickup truck. An old swing set sat rusting in the sun, almost as orange as the clay dirt beneath it. “And for the record, I still think this is a bad idea. You’re basing your assumption that Crystal was molested on the word of the biggest liar who ever existed.” His lip curled—he’d been pretty pissed to find out Sammy’d been stopping by the store.

  I hadn’t wanted to tell him, but knew the time for secrets was past. The only thing I kept to myself was the dark little corner of my heart that responded to Sammy’s overwhelming sexuality—I’d resisted, hadn’t I? No need to plant any seeds that might grow into problems later.

  I sighed, staring out the window at the squat little trailer I was pretty sure was Tina’s. “I know. It could be a giant load of crap, although Crystal pretty much confirmed it.”

  He shot me a look, and said sourly, “And Crystal works for who?”

  He was right. I couldn’t trust Sammy or Crystal, but I had to do something. “I know, I know. Tina Cowart isn’t going to like hearing it, whether it’s true or not. It’s a long shot, and probably a stupid plan, but I can’t think of a better one.” Turning my head to look out the window, I said softly, “You shouldn’t have come with me. You should’ve let me do this myself. I don’t want you to get into any more trouble than you’re already in.”

  Joe let the car roll to a stop a few yards from the trailer and put it in park a little harder than was necessary. “Get over it. I’m not used to having my girlfriend fight my battles for me.” His eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, but I knew what I’d see in them: frustration and anger, to hide the sense of helplessness I knew he must have been feeling.

  Dr. Joseph P. Bascombe did not like feeling helpless.

  I put a hand on his arm. “Just give me ten minutes alone with her. If her ambulance-chasing lawyer finds out you came all the way out here, he could accuse you of harassment or something. It could hurt your case.”

  A near growl came from Joe’s throat. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly the knuckles were white. “What if Crystal’s ghost shows up, Nicki? What if she possesses you again?” Worry over me obviously added to his frustration. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. Your heart can’t take this.”

  I leaned over and kissed him, quickly, on the cheek. “You let me worry about my heart,” I said, and slid from the car. “I’ll be right back.”

  Despite my apparent calmness, my pain-in-the-ass heart was beating a mile a minute. I walked toward the trailer, careful to skirt a muddy patch of red clay—I was wearing tennis shoes, but they were a pair of my favorite Skechers, and I didn’t want them ruined. There was no grass to speak of, just dirt and patches of weeds. The lattice surrounding the base of the trailer was rotting and full of holes. Something moved in the dimness there, and I was startled when a little face appeared, all wide eyes and pointy ears, until I realized it was just a cat, watching me.

  “Hi, kitty,” I said, and it vanished.

  The steps leading to the front door of the trailer were rickety enough to make me nervous, and I held on to the railing as I knocked on the door. A dog starte
d barking inside, a deep bark that told me it was a big dog.

  “Be quiet, Pete.” A female voice, the vibration of footsteps, coming my way. “Quiet!” The door opened, just a crack, and the barking got louder.

  I’d expected Tina Cowart, but it was a little girl who peered at me from inside the trailer. Blond hair, unbrushed, in shorts and bare feet. She looked about twelve, with blue eyes and high cheekbones just barely emerging from her baby fat. She could only be Amber Marie Cowart, Crystal’s sister.

  “Hi.” I gave her a big smile, not wanting to frighten her by staring. “Is your mom home?”

  She shook her head, not answering. The dog was still barking, and she turned, shoving him back from the door. “Sit,” she ordered. Surprisingly enough, the barking stopped. “Stay.”

  The door cracked open a little wider while she was dealing with the dog, releasing the powerful smell of stale cigarettes from inside the trailer. I could see the dog now, a hairy brown mutt with a face only a mother could love. He was sitting, as ordered, but growled at me low in his throat.

  “Pete don’t like strangers,” the girl said, eyeing me warily. “I can sic him on you anytime I want.”

  “Don’t do that,” I said hastily. The dog was obviously a great source of protection, but I couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing here alone. It was a Friday morning, and she should’ve been in school. “Do you know when Tina might be back?”

  The girl shrugged, and said, “She’s at work,” as if that were the answer to my question.

  “Isn’t she pretty?” A woman’s whisper in my ear made me jump. I jerked my head to see who was standing beside me, but there was no one there. “Mama lets her stay home from school if she does the laundry and cleans the kitchen. Keeps her fat ass from having to do it when she gets home.”

  I didn’t need to see Crystal to know she was there, and neither did the dog. It stood up, eyes intent on the empty space to my right.