Page 27 of Ghost in the Cupboard

The ghost got no more attention from me the rest of the late morning. Setting about cleaning, peeling, and slicing the potatoes into fries, I ignored everything but work. Ginny sliced up onions, pickles, tomatoes, and lettuce to slip into the to-go containers we handed out. Any little bit of vegetable we could get our patrons to eat was a win.

Once I’d gotten all of the potatoes prepared, the two of us worked together forming small hamburger patties. With the price of meat what it is, we quickly realized that everyone would be lucky to get a thin, two-ounce burger. After forming the patties so they’d be ready to fry up, I found a couple of industrial-size cans of baked beans in the pantry. Adding a scoop or two to each to-go box would help increase the protein for our patrons.

Usually, on Saturdays, the folks from the camp were our main customers. A few of the older folks in town would stop by since we were a convenient place to get a quick, cheap meal. Whoever was working at the gas station, and maybe Max, would stop by as well. But it was typically a slow day for us. By the time Sal showed up to get the order for the folks at the camp, we’d already seen all the non-camp folks we’d see all day. Once the camp was taken care of, I was going to tell Ginny we should close up shop.

Fortunately, expecting Sal to come meant we practically had her twenty to-go boxes ready for her in bags when she arrived. Thinking ahead, she’d brought Ronny-Boy with her to help carry the food back to camp. A bag full of soups and a bag full of grilled cheese sandwiches was one thing. Twenty to-go containers of burgers with fries and beans were another.

As Ronny-Boy took off with two of the bags, Sal was handing me one of the bags from the previous day. A glance inside told me it was the to-go soup containers ready to be washed and reused for the camp. Saving money on containers always made me happy. Technically, laws about safe food handling insisted I toss the used containers. However, I always kept the camp’s stuff separate from everything else, they were washed thoroughly, and were only reused for camp patrons. What the Health Board didn’t know didn’t hurt any of us.

“Thanks, Sal,” I said. “We’ll get ‘em washed up. Chili Monday, so they’ll come in use.”

Sal smacked her lips. “And cornbread?”

“Of course,” I said, handing her the rest of their order. “Probably make up some greens so all of you get your vegetables.”

She laughed and took the bags from me before a cloud seemed to cross her face. I found myself standing across the counter from her, staring back at her as she stood there, her arms at her side, a bag dangling from each hand. Ginny was banging around in the back of the diner, obviously getting things cleaned up as quickly as possible so we could cut out early.

“What is it, Sal?” I asked.

“It’s Gary,” she said with a sigh, slumping.

The bags in her hands nearly touched the floor.

“What about him?” I asked. “He still as sullen as he was earlier today?”

“You noticed?” Sal asked.

“It’s hard not to,” I said as I gripped the edge of the counter with my hands for a relaxing lean. “Gary’s been nothing but grim for…well, a long time. It’s been months.”

Sal nodded along. “I worry about him.”

“Well, sure.”

Glancing around furtively, as if someone might sneak up on our conversation, Sal seemed to tense. I glanced around as well, wondering what in the world she was looking for in the diner. With only three people in the diner, I couldn’t imagine who Sal thought would overhear anything we were talking about. Or that we were talking about anything worth overhearing.

“Marcella,” Sal whisper-hissed suddenly, leaning forward.

I couldn’t help but jerk slightly, but I corrected myself quickly.

“The friend that came to camp with Gary when he arrived last year?” I asked.

“Yes,” Sal nodded excitedly. “You know, she took off, and he’s been getting worse by the day out of worry for her. He was never much of a talker or socializer, but he was functional with her around. But she took off, and, well, now Gary is…Gary.”

I studied Sal for a moment as she stood there, the bags drooping at her sides as she looked around nervously.

“He’s just…he’s acting stranger and stranger by the day,” Sal said. “I wish I could help him. You know?”

I was no idiot. Dealing with summoning spirits and the people who wanted to summon them had made me a good nonsense detector.

“You wonder if he has something to do with her disappearance?” I said flatly.

Sal flinched, but didn’t deny it.

“Pretty young woman comes to live in the homeless camp with a, well, a guy who doesn’t look like someone pretty young women would want to be around…and then she comes up missing after a while. You can’t help but wonder if the guy who looks like he shouldn’t be around pretty young women had something to do with her disappearance?” I suggested.

“Don’t put it that way!” Sal’s cheeks reddened.

“Don’t try to dance around the obvious,” I chuckled. “Just be straight with me, Sal. I talk to ghosts for a living. Once people die, they’re not shy about letting you know what they’ve been thinking their whole lives. I’m pretty unshockable.”