1
I stood at the kitchen sink, doing dishes, occasionally glancing through the window to see Mack. My fiancé was on the back patio, talking with a ghost. Sometimes that was a cause for concern, but in this case, the ghost was from a neighboring house, and she liked to come chat with Mack. In the year we’d lived here, we’d heard crazy stories through her, but she’d also been helpful, guiding Mack on how to properly care for the many plants on the property.
Usually, she showed up and Mack spent an hour or three with her, meandering around the yard, talking about this flowerbed or that tree, and both had a grand time. Let’s face it, a Southerner’s first hobby was chitchatting. His curly brown hair was drying in the sun. He hadn’t bothered to put mousse or gel in it, today being our day off, and we didn’t have plans to leave the house. The sun wasn’t strong enough today to threaten his pale skin, so he should be fine.
Snorting, I left them to it. I could tell from Mack’s body language, he was utterly relaxed and enjoying the conversation. No need for me to put my big feet over there.
My mind wandered off as my hands moved. Jon and Don had gotten married three weeks ago, and it had put some ideas in my head. Mack and I had been engaged for almost a year, but we never seemed to find the right moment to sit down and figure out when and where we wanted to tie the knot. Case after case kept us busy, to say the least. Maybe today? Since it was a lazy Wednesday with nothing planned, maybe we could finally nail some decisions down?
The memory of both proposals had me chuckling. Mack’s first proposal, when he’d still been loopy from using Jon as battery, not even realizing he’d proposed, would forever be a favorite memory. He’d insisted on redoing it properly, though, and had taken me down to Cloudland Canyon to propose again. It was a beautiful spot in the mountains, and we’d taken perfect engagement pictures there. I’d kind of preferred the do-over, as it meant we’d both had time to pick out rings. I’d wanted him to wear an engagement ring, too.
Eli, upon learning the news, had thrown us a fun engagement party. I enjoyed having those three so close. We hung out often, and it was nice being able to pitch hit if one or the other was out of town.
Mack waving a hand around caught my eye. He was very animated and clearly enjoying the conversation. My hands stilled under the water as I soaked in the view. He’d becomeso much happier since we’d gotten engaged. Me too, honestly. Knowing this man loved me, wanted to be married to me, was its own joy.
My phone rang in my pocket, so I dried my hands off hastily. Oh? Sylvia was calling.
That probably wasn’t a good thing.
I answered, putting it on speaker. “Hi, Sylvia.”
“Hello. I’m calling you in, so I hope you’ve got nothing important planned for the next month.”
“Uh…I suddenly feel like I need to? What’s on fire?”
“A whole fucking town, if you can believe it.”
“Hold on. I think Mack needs to hear this straight from you.”
“Probably for the best.”
I abandoned the dishes, opened the sliding glass door, and headed outside. “Mack, Sylvia’s on the line, and we’ve got something gnarly she’s sending us into.”
Mack paused his conversation with our ghostly neighbor, turning to face me. His expression was one of severe misgiving. “Does it involve haunted trees? Because I refuse.”
“Utterly fair.”
Sylvia snorted. “Ha, no, although you’ll probably hate coal mining towns after this one.”
“The goal is not to traumatize us more,” Mack chastised her. He moved next to me, making it easier for Sylvia to hear him. “All right, what’s going on?”
“There’s a lot of history and context I’m missing, I can sense it, but here’s what I know for fact. There’s a coal mining town in Arizona—or a former coal mining town, I should say—that’s haunted as hell.”
I stared at the phone. “The entire town?”
“Unfortunately.”
Mack’s eyes met mine, and I could tell he didn’t like the sound of this. All towns were arguably haunted, but some weremuch more densely populated with ghosts than others. Eureka Springs, Arkansas, for instance, where Mack and I had met. Or his own hometown. That said, even those towns had pockets where ghosts just didn’t go.
Sayingan entire townwas haunted…was something else. A beast I had no idea how to wrangle. To eat a whole elephant, you needed a spoon. What did it take for a town? A shovel?
“How big is the town?”
Sylvia flipped a page or two—I could hear the paper rustling. “Population about three thousand.”
“So it’s not a big town, per se.” Just bigger than the two of us could handle.
“That is the sole thing on your side. I’d like to remind you,Halloween is coming up right around the corner.”
