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Another murder?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
So far all of the homicides the universe has dropped off at my doorstep come complete with a ghost. A ghost whose soul duty is to help bring in the killer. At least that’s exactly what Lottie told me would happen when we spoke about our shared and rather unwanted talent—seeing the dead.
Actually, there’s an official name for our magical misfortune. Apparently, I’m something referred to as transmundane, further classified as supersensual—which means I can see through to the other side.
Come to find out, many other supernatural abilities fall under the transmundane umbrella that concern things like seeing into tomorrow, reading people’s minds, and perhaps the worst curse of all—time travel.
It’s safe to say I’ve escaped a fire with that one. And to be honest, seeing the dead hasn’t been all that bad. But I’ve only got a handful of poltergeists under my belt so far, and shockingly a couple of those were animals.
It's seven-thirty in the morning as I step off the gold glittering elevator onto the lido deck. There’s nothing like the energy on the first morning of a cruise that brings just about every passenger out of their cabins no matter how groggy they may be. The ship functions like a small city, so there’s plenty to do no matter how early or late.
I’m just about to head in the direction of the Blue Water Café when something pale and blue catches the corner of my eye and I gasp at the sight.
“It’s you,” I hiss as I march on over to the darkened alcove where a glowing apparition looks far too sexy for his denim britches.
Ransom Baxter sheds a curved smile, but that gleam in his luminescent eyes lets me know there’s a darker intent brewing inside him.
“What in the heck is going on?” I ask as I pull him deeper into the dimly lit corridor, which in turn turns his body into the equivalent of a fluorescent light bulb. “Are you a ghost?”
There goes the first stupid question of what I’m guessing will be many.
He frowns at me a moment. “Yes, I’m a ghost. I thought you were a pro at this.”
“A pro?” I blink back at the man before me. “Ransom, I thought I knew you. This is a very big, dead deal. Why are you playing coy? Why didn’t you just come out and tell me? And for goodness’ sake, what happened to you? And why are you in this strange suit?”
“I died in this suit,” he says, dusting off his sleeves. “And I rather like it.”
“You died in this suit? Ransom, what happened?”
“Ransom…” He cocks his head a moment. “Ah, yes.” That nefarious gleam is back in his eyes. “Hit and run. Drunk driver. I had just stepped out of the country club and was struck in the lot—by a good friend of mine no less. He felt pretty bad about it.”
“I don’t get it. How are you here, on this ship? We just saw your cousin in Honey Hollow. And he didn’t flinch at the thought of seeing you, and Lottie said he couldn’t see ghosts. In fact, everyone can see you just fine.”
“I can assure you, no one in Honey Hollow knows about my early demise. Nevertheless, you do.” He cups my cheeks and I marvel at how solid he feels. “What room are you in? I searched all night and couldn’t find a trace of your luscious body. This place is a zoo with far too many enclosures.”
“My cabin? Same one as last time. Fourteenth floor nestled between Bess and Nettie.” I quickly rattle off my cabin number to him in the event he wants to visit my so-called luscious body.
Wait. What am I saying? The fact Ransom Baxter is dead changes everything. For starters, he doesn’t quite have a luscious body of his own, does he?
“I’ll make note of that,” he says, sniffing my hair. “I’m craving some alone time with you. We’ll talk about Julia’s murder”—he brushes a kiss over my lips and it feels oddly banal—“among other things.”
“I don’t know.” I shake my head up at him as my heart does its best to pound its way out of my body. “You’re dead, Ransom. I’m pretty sure there are celestial laws about, you know, humans and disembodied beings doing well, things they probably shouldn’t be doing.” The fact he’s dead isn’t just some hurdle we’ll have to get over, it’s a stumbling block the size of a casket.
“Celestial laws against doing things together?” He lands another heated kiss to my lips. “I have a feeling we should very much be doing anything we like.” He winks. “And we will. Get that birthday suit ready for its big debut.”
With that, he dissipates in a thousand miniature pale denim stars, and my entire body shudders in his wake.
This can’t be real.
Ransom and I have something real.
Or at least I thought we did.
Apparently, the only reason he was attracted to me was my penchant for seeing the dead, and the reason for that is because he’s dead himself.
