Chapter 16
The ghost got no more attention from me the rest of the late morning.
Setting about cleaning, peeling, and slicing the potatoes into fries, I ignored everything but work.
Ginny sliced up onions, pickles, tomatoes, and lettuce to slip into the to-go containers we handed out.
Any little bit of vegetable we could get our patrons to eat was a win.
Once I’d gotten all of the potatoes prepared, the two of us worked together forming small hamburger patties.
With the price of meat what it is, we quickly realized that everyone would be lucky to get a thin, two-ounce burger.
After forming the patties so they’d be ready to fry up, I found a couple of industrial-size cans of baked beans in the pantry.
Adding a scoop or two to each to-go box would help increase the protein for our patrons.
Usually, on Saturdays, the folks from the camp were our main customers.
A few of the older folks in town would stop by since we were a convenient place to get a quick, cheap meal.
Whoever was working at the gas station, and maybe Max, would stop by as well.
But it was typically a slow day for us. By the time Sal showed up to get the order for the folks at the camp, we’d already seen all the non-camp folks we’d see all day.
Once the camp was taken care of, I was going to tell Ginny we should close up shop.
Fortunately, expecting Sal to come meant we practically had her twenty to-go boxes ready for her in bags when she arrived.
Thinking ahead, she’d brought Ronny-Boy with her to help carry the food back to camp.
A bag full of soups and a bag full of grilled cheese sandwiches was one thing.
Twenty to-go containers of burgers with fries and beans were another.
As Ronny-Boy took off with two of the bags, Sal was handing me one of the bags from the previous day.
A glance inside told me it was the to-go soup containers ready to be washed and reused for the camp.
Saving money on containers always made me happy.
Technically, laws about safe food handling insisted I toss the used containers.
However, I always kept the camp’s stuff separate from everything else, they were washed thoroughly, and were only reused for camp patrons.
What the Health Board didn’t know didn’t hurt any of us.
“Thanks, Sal,” I said. “We’ll get ‘em washed up. Chili Monday, so they’ll come in use.”
Sal smacked her lips. “And cornbread?”
“Of course,” I said, handing her the rest of their order. “Probably make up some greens so all of you get your vegetables.”
She laughed and took the bags from me before a cloud seemed to cross her face.
I found myself standing across the counter from her, staring back at her as she stood there, her arms at her side, a bag dangling from each hand.
Ginny was banging around in the back of the diner, obviously getting things cleaned up as quickly as possible so we could cut out early.
“What is it, Sal?” I asked.
“It’s Gary,” she said with a sigh, slumping.
The bags in her hands nearly touched the floor.
“What about him?” I asked. “He still as sullen as he was earlier today?”
“You noticed?” Sal asked.
“It’s hard not to,” I said as I gripped the edge of the counter with my hands for a relaxing lean. “Gary’s been nothing but grim for…well, a long time. It’s been months.”
Sal nodded along. “I worry about him.”
“Well, sure.”
Glancing around furtively, as if someone might sneak up on our conversation, Sal seemed to tense.
I glanced around as well, wondering what in the world she was looking for in the diner.
With only three people in the diner, I couldn’t imagine who Sal thought would overhear anything we were talking about.
Or that we were talking about anything worth overhearing.
“Marcella,” Sal whisper-hissed suddenly, leaning forward.
I couldn’t help but jerk slightly, but I corrected myself quickly.
“The friend that came to camp with Gary when he arrived last year?” I asked.
“Yes,” Sal nodded excitedly. “You know, she took off, and he’s been getting worse by the day out of worry for her. He was never much of a talker or socializer, but he was functional with her around. But she took off, and, well, now Gary is…Gary.”
I studied Sal for a moment as she stood there, the bags drooping at her sides as she looked around nervously.
“He’s just…he’s acting stranger and stranger by the day,” Sal said. “I wish I could help him. You know?”
I was no idiot. Dealing with summoning spirits and the people who wanted to summon them had made me a good nonsense detector.
“You wonder if he has something to do with her disappearance?” I said flatly.
Sal flinched, but didn’t deny it.
“Pretty young woman comes to live in the homeless camp with a, well, a guy who doesn’t look like someone pretty young women would want to be around…
and then she comes up missing after a while.
You can’t help but wonder if the guy who looks like he shouldn’t be around pretty young women had something to do with her disappearance? ” I suggested.
“Don’t put it that way!” Sal’s cheeks reddened.
“Don’t try to dance around the obvious,” I chuckled. “Just be straight with me, Sal. I talk to ghosts for a living. Once people die, they’re not shy about letting you know what they’ve been thinking their whole lives. I’m pretty unshockable.”
She cleared her throat.
“Well,” she said, “it does make you wonder, don’t it? Marcella suddenly disappearing?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t really know her all the well. I only saw her walking around with Gary from time to time. She’d always smile. She tried talking to me a few times, but stopped approaching me after a while. Guess she didn’t like me or something?”
“Well,” Sal looked nervous, “she probably figured out you were, well, a waste of time?”
I cocked an eyebrow.
“Marcella would depend on strange men to sometimes provide for her and Gary,” Sal said, looking anywhere but at me. “She probably figured out quickly that you were a lost cause.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well,” I said, “she was definitely perceptive. I’m not known for looking to spend time with pretty young women.”
Sal gave me an apologetic smile.
“Anyway,” Sal continued, hurrying away from the uncomfortable moment, “it’s not hard to see how Gary might have gotten jealous or something. Right?”
“Or one of the strange men got violent,” I said. “Why do you assume Gary had anything to do with her disappearance? It’s sad as heck, but young women like Marcella go missing often.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Why do you suspect Gary of doing something to her?” I asked. “He comes in here all the time and never does anything violent to us.”
“I don’t know, Si,” Sal said. “That thing Ginny said the other day, about him coming in here and staring and creeping her out. Sometimes at night, I’ll wake up to find him gone, and then see him creep in later and get back to his sleeping spot as if nothing happened.
He’s been doing sneaky things like that a lot.
Disappearing. Reappearing. No longer talking. Lurking around. That kind of thing.”
“But has he been violent or weird otherwise?” I asked.
Sal shrugged.
“Sal—”
“Couldn’t you just ask around?” Sal’s eyes roamed around the room. “Talk to some of your ghosts and see if anyone has heard or seen anything?”
“Ghosts don’t pay attention to the living much,” I said. “Unless it’s living people they had business with in life. Or cared about.”
Sal nodded.
“You think she’s dead,” I said.
She nodded once more. Firmly.
I sighed. “Sal…I don’t get involved in these things. You know that. If she’s dead—and you think Gary had something to do with it—go to the cops. I was literally just telling Ginny hours ago that—”
“They’ll come in here and break the whole camp up, arrest everyone they can, run everyone off that isn’t arrested—they won’t investigate Marcella’s disappearance. They won’t care about some young homeless woman, and you know it!”
I couldn’t help but feel scolded. And rightfully so.
“All’s going to the cops will do is ruin everything for everyone down at the camp.”
“True.”
“If you could just ask around a bit,” Sal said.
“Just see if any of them ghosts have seen or heard anything. Maybe they saw her leave town on a bus or in someone’s car?
Maybe there’s no crime at all and she just had enough of Sage Grove?
Anything. I just need to know we don’t have no murderer in the camp or nothing like that. ”
“What if there is a crime?” I asked. “I won’t get involved in that, Sal. Nothing you can say will change that.”
What I’d said made me a complete jerk. I was willing to live with it.
From experience, I knew getting involved in police business as a medium was asking for nothing but trouble.
With the present state of the world, the odds of getting thrown in a jail cell or some detention center, never to be returned to my life, was exponentially higher than ever.
If it made me a bad person, so be it, but I wasn’t going to ruin my life to solve one murder.
Getting thrown in jail wouldn’t bring the dead person back, after all.
The “Good Guys” were never the good guys, and they were only getting worse as the years went on.
Everyone had to start thinking about self-preservation and the smartest ways to make their way through life.
If that made a person a jerk, that was simply too bad.
Maybe, one day, when I was a ghost, I’d find out that Heaven actually existed and my choices condemned me to never getting there.
I was willing to risk it.
“If you find out the worst,” Sal chewed at her lip, “I’ll tell the cops. I won’t tell them you had anything to do with figuring it out. I’ll just let them know my suspicions and whatever you tell me.”
I stared at her.
“I know you get enough guff as it is, Si.” Sal moaned.
“You feed us, often for free, you tell us the best places to sleep at night without getting caught, and you constantly act like you don’t know anything about what we’re doing if the cops come sniffing around.
I know this is a lot to ask of you, but—”
“I’ll ask a few of my dependable ghosts,” I said, stopping her. “I won’t promise more than that. Fair enough?”
Sal’s face immediately lit up.
“Yes!”
I waved a tired arm at her.
“Go on, then,” I said. “The food’s getting cold and I need to help Ginny close up for the day. We’ll talk soon.”
Sal practically skipped out of The Lunch Counter, the bags bouncing at her sides. The ghost who had been following me turned to watch her bounce away, confused by the crazy woman. I shook my head and sighed, then turned to head back into the prep area of the diner.
Ginny was standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, her arms across her chest.
“You’re going to regret all that,” she said, shaking her head.
“I already do,” I said, laughing. “Let’s just get this place cleaned up.”