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“Oh, he’s shown himself, alright.”
“He?”
Willow gritted her teeth. “He’s sitting right over there. With a smug look on his face.”
“Interesting. And how are your customers reacting?”
“No one else can see or hear him. At least that’s what he says.”
“Ooooh. You’re like… Whoopie Goldberg inGhost. Please tell me he looks like Patrick Swayze.”
“More like… Jude Law in theSherlock Holmesmovie kind of vibe.”
“Sherlock Holmes?” Montgomery popped his head up from his book. “I’ve read the work of Arthur Conan Doyle. Quite entertaining.”
“Nobody asked you, Slimer. Go back to your book.”
“Slimer?” questioned Esme.
“Never mind that. How do I get rid of him?”
“Ghosts are rarely here by choice and are sometimes confused… or don’t even know they’re not alive anymore. You need to find out why he is in this realm. Perhaps he has some unfinished business.”
Willow knew this ghost was quite aware he was dead, and seemed to stick around just for the fun of vexing her, but she asked anyway.
“My mom wants to know if you have any unfinished business.”
Montgomery glowered back at her. “Unfinished business? Why yes.”
“Really? What is it?” Willow, anxious to get the whole thing over with, was eager to hope they’d be done by tea time. “Tell me.”
“He said yes?” Esme asked, only able to hear Willow’s side of the conversation. “You’re making fast progress, Willow. I’m so proud of you.”
“What unfinished business do you have?” Willow pressed.
Montgomery’s eyes glittered. “This book. Now if you’ll keep it down over there, I can find out what happens to Frodo and his friends.”
“How ‘bout I spoil the ending and we’ll call it a day?” Willow snapped.
“What did he say?”
“He’s readingLord of the Rings.”
“Curiouser and curiouser. Which book is he on?”
“Hey. Watson. What’s happening to Frodo right now?”
He rolled his eyes and grunted. “If you must know, the hobbits are dining at Tom Bombadil’s house.”
“Yeesh. This could take a while. He’s only a few chapters in on book one.”
Montgomery gasped. “Bookone? You mean to tell me there are more?”
“Esme, please tell me I can spoil it for him.”
Montgomery shot up from the chair. “How many books exactly?”
“One more peep out of you, mister, and I’ll subject you to the Peter Jackson movies.”
