“Unlikely,” Corinne says. “Tarot doesn’t necessarily read the dead, since most of their energy has moved on.”
My head nods toward Billy. “He’s clearly not moved on.”
She shakes her head, biting her lower lip. “I’d have to consult with my mother on that. I’m not sure. But what would be his motive? Nobody wants to stay in limbo if they can’t live life with the people they loved.”
“And nobody wants to be stuck with you, Karen,” Billy says, sticking his tongue out like the child he is.
I stick my tongue out, earning a brow raise from Corinne. “Mature.”
“What does that card mean?” I say, moving us along.
“The third card is the known, which is whatyouare aware of.” She shakes her head, chuckling. “Ha... very funny, Spirit. Tell us something we don’t know.” She makes a noise like she’s clearing her nose. “This card reversed says you’re confused and on information overload.”
“Sounds pretty accurate to me. Tarot is something you actuallydohave talent with. Good to know.”
She guffaws, hand rising to her heart. “You wound the only person who can help you.”
“We’ve yet to determine that. Moving on.” I motion toward the last card.
She makes a face, rubbing at her throat. “The final card is the action Spirit is encouraging you to take.” She studies the card closely, and I can see the moment the light bulb flicks on. “Now this one is helpful. Essentially, Spirit is recognizing that you are currently fighting a losing battle, one that’s preventing you from moving forward. So, what Spirit is saying is knock it off and work together, or else this mystery will never be solved.”
Billy and I share a look, but quickly turn our heads in opposite directions. Neither is willing to be the first to extend an olive branch.
“See. That right there will get us nowhere. The cards have spoken on Spirit’s behalf, and either you two grow up and listen, or you’ll be stuck together forever.” She chews on her bottom lip, continuing to mull over the cards. “Perhaps the Two of Cups is encouraging you to partner with Billy. Have you two even attempted to brainstorm why he could be connected to you?”
I avert my eyes, not really wanting to admit that I’ve not remotely attempted to communicate with him. He’s just too... obnoxious.
“Why don’t youtrygetting to know each other? Maybe something will click,” she suggests.
It’s not preferable, but I did say I was willing to do anything to make him go away. Maybe I should take Corinne’s advice and get to know about his life.
“What’s your story, Billy?”
“Seriously? We’re going to do this?”
I purse my lips and shrug while he makes himself comfortable, sitting on the edge of the table.
How is it he’s unable to pick up items, but he can manage to not fall through solid objects? This whole ghost world stuff is confusing.
“I was twenty-eight, single, and just got back into town. I’d been living on the West Coast, studying for the Series 63. I failed, and my dad made me come back home.”
I bite my tongue, deciding now isn’t the moment to make cutting remarks. Not while he’s opening up.
“You’d just gotten back into town when you died?”
“Yeah. I’d been here for about two weeks. Dad and I weren’t seeing eye to eye because I was spending a lot of time over at Clementine’s running the pool tables. He’d also found out that I planned to head back to California to join a band.”
The more he says, the less irritating I find him. There’s a childlike innocence to Billy in this moment. One that tells of a struggle to be good enough but never quite measuring up. A willingness to throw everything behind to chase a dream. One that was never reached but somehow still manages to bring a smile to his face.
“Tell me how you died,” I say, curious how someone so young lost their life. I’m assuming it was foul play; otherwise, why would Nick have worked the case?
“Harry’s been trying to help me uncover the details. Apparently, when you die, things get a bit fuzzy for a while. At least for some spirits.”
I had forgotten all about this Harry guy. It occurs to me that I have a dead man following me around—someone tied to the afterlife and what happens after you leave earth—and I’ve never asked questions. For months after Garrett’s death, I cried over where he could be and if he was okay. I have knowledge right in front of me, and I’ve been too caught up in my ego to tap into it.
Stupid.
“I was fighting with this biker dude, who wanted to throttle me because I’d hustled him. Dad refused to pay my way any longer, so I decided to trick people out of money.”
