Soul Jars by A.R. Vincent

Author:A.R. Vincent
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cosy mystery, midlife, paranormal women's fiction, vampire, ghost, demon, no romance
Publisher: A.R. Vincent
Published: 2021-06-18T00:00:00+00:00

I CHECKED THE MESSAGES again before heading out the door. I had looked briefly before getting dressed. Mrs Marshall was still not back and Lucy was still fretting. I had sent a quick message to reassure her I’d be there — for all the good it would do. There was nothing new when I checked again, so I sent Lucy another quick text to say I was leaving the house now and would be with her shortly.

I grabbed my adjustable metal walking cane with the deep purple stick and black handle. I had never managed to walk far without some sort of support since my hip op, despite physio, and had accumulated an array of colourful sticks and crutches over the years.

I had dressed in clothes that looked suitably smart and sombre, but were also comfortable. Soft black trousers and matching top, with a charcoal jacket and a pale silver and gold pashmina swung dramatically around my neck. I pulled on a bulky coat that looked more suitable for tracking the wilds of Canada, but was super warm. And it wasn’t like this was my client here, I was going mainly to help out Lucy and possibly offer moral support to this person I apparently knew.

Grey joined me as I went out to the car. “Are you okay?”

“Well, I feel like someone hit me in the face with a bat, I’m still no closer to finding out what’s happened to Ben, and now I have to go and make nice with some chap I can’t even remember the name of, much less meeting. On the plus side, I’ve slept, showered and taken painkillers, so that’s good.”

“I was thinking about what Betty said about the whole gates of heaven thing. Maybe she wasn’t talking about heaven as in heaven heaven,” he said, pressing his palms together and looking skyward as if in prayer. “Maybe she was talking about the heavens. Like something astronomical.”

I turned on the ignition of the car and backed out of the drive. Sure my house was walking distance from the office, but I was tired, bruised and short on time, so I took the car. There might have also been the small matter that the events of the past twenty-four hours had spooked me, or rather scared the ever-loving crap out of me. The car felt safer than wandering through the snowy stillness at nightfall.

Grey materialised in the front seat next to me.

“How’d you do that?” I asked.

“What?”

“Sit down on the seat like that? I thought you couldn’t touch anything, being all ghostly and stuff.”

“Oh, right,” he said, looking down at himself as if surprised to see his body there. I suppose given that yesterday he was completely dead, he probably was. “I’m not sitting, I can’t. I’m floating and I figured it would freak you out less if I looked like I was sitting down.”

“Thanks,” I said and gave him a quick smile. It was a little thing, but I was genuinely touched that he’d thought to do it.

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