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“It’s a long story, and the answer’s inside that old yearbook.”
She fades out before I can ask what the hell she means.
I doubt she would tell me, anyway.
Clearly, she’s not interested in giving out answers when there are much creepier ways that she can make me work for them. At this point, I’m not even sure I want to know what this is about. Maybe I’ll toss both yearbooks in the trash and ask Rachel to make me another charm that stops me from having to interact with ghosts outside of the house. That seems like the better solution.
I sigh at the daily sales book and go back to looking for the pen.
The kitchen door opens and Carter steps into the bar.
“We can go now,” the blue-haired Omega says, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead theatrically, as if he was sweating his face off cleaning the tiny area back there.
“I haven’t counted the takings yet,” I tell him.
His face falls. “You’re kidding me. What were you doing out here? Did you get another text from Rachel or something, because …”
“No text,” I tell him, before he can start complaining that I’m not using the group-chat to send messages to our currently out-of-town mate. “A spirit was here, that’s all. We need to get Rachel to set wards in the bar.”
His bright blue, dark-lined eyes scan the area around me. “What kind of spirit? Is it still here?”
“She left,” I tell him. “It has nothing to do with Rachel’s work out of town.”
That was a whole other level of crazy, and I didn’t mind dealing with those spirits even if one of them reminded me of all the bitchy girls from high school rolled into one. Bianca isn’t the kind of person I’d ever choose to speak to, but just knowing I was helping Rachel made dealing with her bearable.
Even better, Bianca eventually admitted she didn’t want my help with anything.
She just wanted to try and redeem herself for some crazy shit she did while she was alive by helping the people she’d hurt back then. She felt she’d done that by the end.
Hadn’t seen her since. That’s the kind of ghostly interaction I like.
The kind that has a beginning and an end.
“So, it’s that girl those witches killed?” Carter asks as he lets the kitchen door swing shut.
“She’s back,” I admit, knowing he already knows that she’s been lurking.
It’s kind of hard to keep any secrets from a mind reader.
“What did she want?” He walks over and sits down on one of the bar stools.
“She wouldn’t say.”
“Too bad,” he says, yawning. “I could have used the distraction.”
I take the till drawer out and nod at him.
“Start counting the dollar bills.”
He pulls a face, but he lifts the money out of the till. “Bore me to death, why don’t you?”
“You’re so dramatic.” I roll my eyes and start counting the twenties while he mumbles at the small stack of notes in his hands. He’s more than happy to spend insane amounts of time chatting to customers, but his eyes glaze over when his tasks have nothing to do with social contact.
I should do closing alone, but he already gets to see Rachel way more than I do, so there’s no way that’s happening. I start logging the takings, and Carter helps me to do it even slower than I normally would. I separate the takings from the float and put them in a pay-in envelope for the bank.
“Are we done now?” Carter asks.
“Let me put this in the safe and kill the lights. Then, we can leave.”
