She gulps, her shoulders slouching. “I know this all sounds nuts, but I’m really freaked out, Ally. Likereallyfreaked.”
I take a tentative step forward and place a hand on her shoulder. “Is there something else going on? Something you need to tell someone?”
She stiffens, giving away that there might just be more to this dream.
“No,” she snaps, jerking away from me.
I’ve known Lanie long enough to identify when it’s a losing battle to pry. She’s not going to tell me anything, and I have to be all right with that for now.
“I came out here to tell you that Isla says there’s a short wall around the back. You should be able to scale it.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Isla? Who’s Isla?”
“Nick’s fiancée,” I say, clenching my teeth together.
“The dead one?”
I pull a face, disturbed by Lanie’s less-than-tasteful way of describing her. “Quiet. She’ll hear you.”
“What does it matter? She knows she’s dead. Why is she here anyway?”
“She’s attached herself to me,” I say, sounding as though it doesn’t bother me. “It’s…convenient at times.”
Lanie’s face contorts. “Not.” She takes a step toward me, leaning down to whisper, “Nobody wants to hook up with someone when his dead ex is hanging around.” She looks around the area. “No offense, ghost girl.”
“None taken,” Isla calls out, appearing beside the gate. “Except, tell your tall friend to not call me that. It’s offensive.”
She’s not being serious. I’m coming to find Isla sarcastic and witty, and it’s no wonder she was to be Nick’s wife.
I relay the message anyway, and Lanie scoffs. “Her very existence is offensive.”
Isla titters.
“I’m sorry, but I’m still out,” Nina says. “I can’t take the chance of getting myself in trouble with all the Richard issues surrounding me. I’ve already got a spotlight on my back.”
“She’s right, Lane. There is no way Nina can do this, and wecan’t allow her to stay out in the dark alone.” I tap my chin. “So I’ll stay with her, and you two can go mingle with the spirits.” I motion between her and Corinne, who’s joined the party at the gate. She’s clutching a bottle of champagne in each hand.
“Then you won’t have completed the rituals, and your New Year will be crap,” Lanie quips.
“News flash, love. You said it was your New Year in jeopardy, not ours. I’m simply doing this as a friend. One who loves you enough to tag along.”
She grunts. “Fine. Cori…you with me?”
“I’ve scaled a wall or two. I’ll play sidekick for the evening.” She lifts her bottles of champagne. “I’ll drink while you scour for yourguilt.”
I crinkle my nose at Corinne’s random word.
“What is she guilty of?”
Corinne huffs. “Please tell me that I’m not the only one who worked out that the graves she needs to find are an anagram forguilty.”
She isn’t wrong, and that leads to a host of questions. Could the letters that Lanie seemed to choose at random not have been random at all? And furthermore, if she feels that she’s guilty of something and this is to be her penance, what is she guilty of?
“Coincidence,” Lanie says, waving Corinne’s words off, but I’m not buying it.
“We’ll stay out here, and if anyone comes along, we’ll hoot like owls,” I say, making the sound and drawing two looks of amusement and a snort from Isla.
“Classic,” Isla chuckles. “You are definitely perfect for Nick.”
