Dog Gone Ghost by Angie Fox

Author:Angie Fox
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781939661401
Publisher: Moose Island Books

Chapter 4

“I thought you said you can’t go there,” I told the ghost.

“It’s forbidden,” he said, eyes wide, “but I have to go if Bailey’s there.”

“I don’t even like to go to Convict’s Bend,” Frankie cautioned.

This was sounding like a worse idea all the time. “If we do this, I’ll need you with us,” I told Frankie. The gangster might be a lot of things, but I trusted him to have my back.

“We’re meeting a shipment,” Frankie barked, then snapped his mouth shut, as if he realized what he’d just admitted.

Lucky for him, I didn’t care anymore.

Floats held up his hands. “I ain’t fronting you the cash,” he said to Frankie. “If you ditch this, the boat sails on.”

Whatever deal he had going couldn’t be more important than this. “You know what it’s like to feel trapped,” I said to Frankie, “but at least you have your gang. You have people who know you exist and who care about you. This poor boy has lost his only companion. He’s completely alone unless we can find his dog.”

Frankie glared at me, his nostrils flaring. Then he threw his head back and yelled, “Arrrgh!”

Parker startled and I put a reflexive hand up to block him from Frankie, who might or might not have lost his mind.

“Frankie—” I began.

“Fine!” He threw up his hands. “You win! We’re leaving. I’m leaving.” He walked two steps away and then spun to face me. “I’m about to walk out on the first solid smuggling deal I’ve made in eight decades.”

The potbellied ghost eyed Frankie like he’d set a briefcase full of C-notes on fire right there on the dock.

“You’re doing the right thing,” I assured my ghost.

“I’m insane,” he said, “and it’s your fault.” He brushed past Floats to the shadow of a small boat bobbing off the dock. “Get in,” he told me, “before I change my mind.”

“Yay!” Parker jumped right into the boat, setting it lurching from side to side.

“Watch out!” I called to the boy. Water sloshed over the side of the boat. At this rate, he was going to sink it before we got started.

I pulled the keychain flashlight out of my purse.

The rowboat, tied with a frayed bit of twine to the dock, was old, small, and not very steady. For a moment, its gray hue made me think it might even be a ghost boat, but a touch revealed very old, very brittle wood.

“Sit in the front,” I said to the boy, “calmly,” I added when he made a hard scramble and the nose of the boat dipped. Oh my word. “This thing shouldn’t even be floating,” I said, watching it pitch hard in the water.

“You in or you out?” Frankie asked.

I turned and smiled brightly at Parker. “I’m in.”

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