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“Hungry?” he chuckled.
“I’m looking for salt,” she explained, flinging cabinets open and tossing various condiments around in her search.“If I don’t create a barrier with salt to lock them out—”
“You forgetting about me?” A little affronted at the assumption he wasn’t enough after just chasing off a huge shadow thing for her.
“I need you talking with me and not concentrating on keeping all the other ghosts out.” She pulled out a container of salt and set to work. Mel followed as she sprinkled the four corners of the apartment, laying out a giant connect-the-dots to create a safe border. Placing the container on the counter, she let out a sigh of relief.
“You know you effectively locked me in here with you, right?”
“It’s a price I’m willing to pay.” She picked up a large candle from the counter and set it on the small coffee table.
“Lighter in the drawer.”
“Thank you.” She dug the small lighter out and lit the candle as she settled onto the couch while he lounged in the chair across from her.
“You know, we can use the lights. There are solar panels out back filled to the brink, so electricity wouldn't be shut off.”
“It hasn’t been repossessed because of your death?” she asked before adding, “I thought you had an apartment on the east side.”
“Yeah, that one was my in-between residence. I was finishing up my move here when I died.” He rubbed the back of his head. “This apartment is under a company name that traces back to my dad instead of me so it can be a place to escape to, you know? From pushy business partners and girls who want to see just how loaded you are.”
“You’re doing well for yourself, aren’t you?”
“Nope. Since ghosts do not need money, I’m living the high life money free.” He folded his hands behind his head and stretched his legs out in front of him as a grin pulled at the right side of his lips. “In truth, this condo did belong to my dad's company before he gifted it to me. It’s going to take him a while to get it back since I put it under a small, self-sustaining company he rarely had to check in on. It’ll also take him a while to get wind of my death. He always shuts off communication when he’s on business retreats. He didn't tell me how long this one would take, but from the sound of it, it's going to be a while before he figures it out. Until then, we can hide out here.”
Anastacia watched him as the silence sneaked back in. Mel’s mind went into overdrive in the quiet, reluctant to tell her anything about the backstabber Knight truly was. But he needed to warn her. He tried to pick at a loose string hanging from his chair, but the damn thing wouldn’t budge.
“I helped someone move on tonight,” Anastacia spoke, breaking the wall of uncomfortable, stagnant air. Mel flicked his eyes to her, her fingers played with one of his throw pillows. “A teenager named Corina. She asked me to help her mother let go so she could move on. I don’t know what she died from, didn’t ask. Her mother was sweet— no yelling at me. Also, something new. I—”
She stopped, partly from the awful crack in her voice and partly from embarrassment. “I’m rambling.”
“No, you’re talking when I promised I would tell you everything.” He leaned forward in his seat. “But… how’d it feel?”
“Different. I wasn’t scared.” She gazed into the candle and Mel watched her eyes flicker with the flame, unsure if it was the reflection of the fire or the inner gold glow of her eyes. They shifted to connect with his. “I guess, I chose to see my gift in a different way. In a way someone else may have used it.”
The pull to her was irresistible. His form leaned over the candle toward her, but at the last second, he stood up. “You want me to give you some decompression time?”
“No!” She reached for him as if he would disappear in that second. The fear in her voice anchored him in place. “I feel safe with you around. Stay. Tell me about what you found. You promised you would.”
He slouched back in the chair across from her like he had done a hundred times before. A heaviness where his heart would have been cracked open when he announced, “I know who killed me.”
“Who?” She instantly perked up, scanning the room for any sign of a light forming for him to walk into. Mel wasn’t sure if all it took was solving the mystery for him to be free. There had to be some kind of resolution before he would walk into the great beyond. “Curtis?”
“If only it were that scumbag,” Mel sighed heavily and sat up again, the weight in his chest growing heavier. He leaned toward her, his forearms on his knees, meeting her intense gaze with his own. “Knight.”
“Night what?”
He rubbed at his face and tried again, “Stacia, it was Knight. Detective Tony Knight killed me.”
He watched her carefully as the connection sparked behind her eyes. Her face dropped and her eyes lost focus as she digested the information. She leaned back and stared at nothing as she tried to fit the missing piece into the puzzle. He could only imagine her thought process. Knight was the one they trusted. The one she trusted enough to go on a date with. The one he trusted enough toleaveher with.
“He’s the lead investigator,” she mumbled.
“Yeah, no wonder he’s been so adamant about Dominic and his boys. Plus, you can’t find the connection to Curtis because it’s through him. He was the anonymous tipster. He sent Curtis after you. At the warehouse and at the hospital.”
“How do you know?” Mel knew her well enough to know her mind needed something tangible to connect the dots. She needed proof.
“What he said to you in the hospital,” Mel sneered. “‘Got to admire a soul too stubborn to die.’ That’s the last thing I heard before he shot me in the back of the head, the last thing I heard before I died. It was more muffled, but it was the same words, said in the same way. I couldn’t place the voice because of the blood rushing in my ears, but when he said it to you…”
