Ghost Haste by ReGina Welling & Erin Lynn

Author:ReGina Welling & Erin Lynn [Welling, ReGina & Lynn, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-03T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“THAT WAS QUITE the trip, wasn’t it?” I said to Molly as we passed the sign welcoming us back to Mooselick River. As always, Molly had no opinion.

Amber did, and I jumped when she appeared in the seat next to me. “Waste of time if you ask me.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“Nothing changed, did it? You still see ghosts; I’m living proof of that.”

“Living?” I snorted. “Not quite.”

“Fine, I’m dead proof. Nitpick the terminology if you must, but I’m here, and I assume Winston’s whirling around in the ether somewhere waiting to take another crack at you.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Talking to Kat and her friends had eased my mind more than Amber could have done, but I didn’t bother telling her that. She wouldn’t appreciate the comparison and was likely to drop the temperature inside the car by twenty degrees if I annoyed her.

“But I still want to see if Felicity is really hanging around the shop. She must have used a lot of energy trying to contact me, given our tenuous connection.” According to Amethyst, Nick had probably drawn Felicity’s attention to me and served as some sort of conduit. If she appeared, I hoped to ask her if that had been the case.

“I’ll help.”

Whoops. I’d walked right into that one, and by the time I’d parked in the darkened lot behind Curated Collections, I hadn’t come up with a graceful way to walk back out of it, so I dug out my spare key.

On the first day of Kindergarten, Jacy had walked up to me, taken my hand, and declared she would be my friend forever. A prediction that had proved correct so far, and yet, I hadn’t known about her deep desire to own a second-hand shop.

She’d kept that one to herself until the day we’d found Catherine Willowby’s secret treasure trove in the addition tacked onto the back of my house. It seemed the two women shared a passion for collecting, only Catherine had less interest in reselling than in creating pieces of art out of old things.

Having read some of Catherine’s diaries since then, I’d come to understand that in exploring her artistic whims, she was looking for a balm to soothe an aching loss. While Paul hadn’t been the kind of husband to me that Basil had been to Catherine, I identified with her need to recreate a sense of self after his death. Jacy identified with her need to take something old and give it new life.

Since then, I’d been slowly clearing out the volume of things in those rooms and supplying the shop with furniture, old glass, and anything else that Jacy thought she could sell. As far as I was concerned, we had a win/win situation going. I made a little extra money, Jacy and Neena had plenty of stock, and eventually, I’d send enough to make a dent in the sheer volume of stuff. My contribution, and the fact that I filled in for Jacy or Neena when they needed a day off, made me feel like I had a stake in the store.

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