Haunted Ever After (Boneyard Key #1)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Twenty-Two

Nick was sure he was dreaming and would wake up soon in his bed. There was no other way to explain it.

He walked down the beach, an arm around Cassie’s shoulders. The darkness around them had done nothing to relieve the heat of the day, but she was snuggled against his side as though she needed him to keep warm. Their walk home was illuminated by the moon, bright and nearly full. It shone off the water and on the wet sand they walked on. The world was dark yet bright at the same time, and the glow felt like something warm and alive.

Nick had tried not to hope for much from this evening. Clearing the air between them at best, hearing that she never wanted to speak to him again at the worst. His brain was especially good at the worst-case scenarios. But reality had blown his pessimism out of the water.

She got him. She really did. She understood his reluctance for relationships, and she was okay with it. Relief had loosened something in his chest, and he felt like he was able to take a good deep breath for the first time in a long time.

In fact, it wasn’t until they were halfway to Cassie’s house, the soft steps of the Beach Bum behind them (apparently he was okay with bottled water, like Cassie had said), that he remembered the other reason for seeing her tonight.

“So. Ah…Elmer let me know that he knew Sarah Hawkins.”

“Oh! He did?” Cassie stopped walking, pulling him to a halt. Her eyes were wide with surprise. “I…I forgot all about that. What is wrong with me?” She gave a rueful laugh. “God, dangle a chicken tender sub in front of my face and my priorities go right to hell.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He dodged her good-natured swat, his smile widening. “He said you could ask him anything.”

“That would be great. There’s so much I don’t know.” He could see the wheels turning in her head. Checklists and plans being made in real time while he watched. “There’s Sarah herself, her house. The way it used to look. I really want to do right by her, but she’s not the most forthcoming.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t help that I think she’s getting hooked on reality TV. It’s distracting her a little bit.”

“Hooked on what?” That was a new one. Or was it? Was Elmer looking over Nick’s shoulder when he watched TV alone at night? He probably wasn’t as alone as he thought he was.

Cassie didn’t answer at first, an embarrassed flush coming over her cheeks that he could see even in the dark. “I’m not going to apologize for watching reality television,” she finally said.

“Nor should you.” He kept his voice even. Calm. Free of judgment.

“It’s excellent brain candy after a long day of work.”

“I’m sure it is.” It had never been Nick’s thing. Something about women fighting each other, and roses? And flipping tables?

“But Sarah is getting a little too into it. I try to ask her if she likes the cabinet handles I picked out, and she’s all, When are we watching Romance Resort ? I told her: all that TV is gonna rot her brain.” She paused. “Do ghosts have brains left to rot?”

“I try not to think too hard about stuff like that.” He had, once upon a time. But the logistics of ghosts and how they existed gave him a headache.

“Probably wise.”

“If I can help at all…I dunno, about talking to spirits, how to communicate, how to feel about what they say…” He tried to make his shrug as casual as his tone. “You know where to find me.”

“You make it sound so easy. Talking to the dead. Getting firsthand accounts of things that happened a century ago.”

“Like I said, try not to think about it.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Going with the flow is the key to sanity around here.”

A laugh spilled from her, and she bumped his arm with her shoulder. “I missed you.”

Oh. Nick wasn’t prepared for how that simple statement rushed through his blood, made everything inside him feel a little more urgent, a little more… more . “I missed you too. It had become the best part of my day, seeing you walk through the door.”

“I’ll have to start coming by the café again, then. But only if you start putting the cinnamon back in the banana bread.”

“Done.” They started walking again, her arm wrapped around his, and of course the footsteps behind them started up again too. Nick spared a fleeting thought for the Beach Bum, hanging around all this time while they talked.

Cassie did too. “Was he just standing behind us, waiting for us to start walking again?”

“Maybe.”

She gave him a sideways glance. “You really don’t think about this stuff too hard, do you?”

“I try not to,” he said. Was he wrong for thinking that way? Should he be more like Cassie, questioning everything and trying to learn all the why s for every spirit that lingered here in town?

She was quiet for a minute. “I want to think about what to ask Elmer,” she finally said. “Do you think I could come by in a day or two? Is that okay?”

“Come by anytime you want,” Nick said, and he meant it. The morning rush, the lunchtime crowd, three in the morning. He would welcome her anytime. “I can’t text him right this second, anyway. He only manifests at the café. Or the apartment over the café. The building itself seems to be his domain. Anywhere else is out of range for him.”

“Out of range? So, like, the café is the only place he gets any bars?”

Nick had to chuckle. “Something like that. That place was his life. His afterlife too, I guess.”

“And he’s okay as a roommate? No bumps in the night?”

“Nah. The only thing I have to do is make coffee for him sometimes.”

“Do I want to know how a ghost drinks coffee?”

“He doesn’t drink it. He just likes the smell. You know, when you grind beans fresh, and then brew a new pot? He loves that.”

“He’s not wrong; that’s the best smell in the world.”

Nick had to agree. “Yeah. So I don’t mind too much.”

“You must drink a lot of coffee, then.”

“I don’t always drink it.” His stomach churned at the thought. “Usually I’ll grind up just a little. Brew up a cup or two, enough to keep him happy.”

“You’re very good to your ghost,” she said primly. Her hand slid down his arm to catch his.

Nick threaded his fingers through hers and held on tight. “I try.”

This was so nice. Everything felt easy with Cassie now that they’d cleared the air. Which was why Nick couldn’t explain how, once they’d cut through the break in the seawall and made their way back to the sidewalk, his shoulders began to tense up. That tight feeling in his chest, which had been easing all evening, suddenly made itself known again.

“You okay?” Cassie’s voice was concerned.

“Yeah.” But he was gripping her hand tighter, his whole body practically radiating tension. He didn’t get it. They’d cleared the air. They were starting over. No pressure. No strings. That was what he wanted, and she was fine with it. There was absolutely nothing to be nervous about.

His steps slowed as they approached Cassie’s house and she opened the latch at her front gate. He couldn’t get enough air around the boulder that had set up residence in his chest. Cassie went through the front gate and though he tried to follow, he didn’t get far. The static in his head was back, growing with every step until it was an almost unbearable din, filling him with an anxiety-fueled anger. It was just like last time, just like…

He stopped walking, watching her start up the front steps. She was halfway up before she turned around.

“Hey.” She went back down the steps to where he stood on the front walkway. “You okay?” She’d asked that twice in, what, two minutes? He needed to get it together.

“Yeah,” he said, when everything inside him said no . There was a hell of a lot of emotion coming from that house, all aimed at him with the delicacy of a firehose. There was no way he could step foot in that house. “I think…I think Mrs. Hawkins doesn’t like me much.” He spoke carefully; the last thing he wanted to do was spook Cassie. Make her think her house was threatening, when she had to go inside and live there. She couldn’t see what he could, didn’t feel what he did. It was like the house was threatening him personally.

“Still?” Cassie gave an annoyed sigh as she looked over her shoulder at her house. He tried to see it through her eyes. The porch lights were on, as well as the light in the upstairs windows. The house looked inviting, serene. Except for the buzzing in his head. The buzzing told him that there was something under the surface of all this serenity. It was like a malevolent force reaching out, asking for help. It all felt very Anakin Skywalker, asking him to turn to the dark side.

He wasn’t going to do that. He took a step backward, then another, till he was back on the sidewalk on the other side of her front gate. Then he reached for the gate, swinging it closed. The buzzing didn’t stop, but it quieted down, like the volume had been turned down. The tension in his chest eased, and he could breathe again.

Cassie followed him but stopped just inside the gate, a barrier between them now. “Did she say something to you?”

“No. Not in words.” He looked up at the house again, at its inviting glow. He hated that it didn’t apply to him. “It’s emotion, and it sounds like static. Or a really loud buzzing noise. Or…” He trailed off with a frustrated shake of his head. “It was like that the last time I was here too. When I…”

“When you went off for no reason?”

“Yeah. She’s really angry about something, and she seems to be angry at me.”

“I don’t get it.” Cassie looked over her shoulder at the house too. “Nan didn’t say anything about her being angry, or vengeful, or anything like that. Maybe I can try to talk to her. Get her to knock it off.”

“No, it’s okay.” Nick held up a placating hand. “Ghosts are allowed to feel what they feel, and—”

“I don’t care.” Cassie crossed her arms, looking like a petulant teenager. “I’m doing my best to help her out here, and the least she can do is let my date into my house every once in a while.”

“Every once in a while?” Nick’s attention snapped back to her. The hell with the angry ghost in her house; this was much more important. “You saying you want to see me again?”

Cassie huffed a stray lock of hair out of her face, and when she met his eyes, Nick felt it in his gut. “Of course I do,” she said. A smile teased around her mouth. “You said you’d talk to Elmer for me.”

His heart dipped, then soared again. She was teasing him. He liked it. “But what about when Elmer’s not involved?” He grasped the slats of the fence with both hands, leaning toward her. “Or Publix subs? What if it’s just me?”

Her hands were warm against his, holding on to him while he held on to the gate. Nick caught his breath as Cassie stretched up onto her toes to meet him over the barrier. “I kinda like it when it’s just you.” Her voice was a murmur just before her mouth brushed across his, and she took his gasp into her mouth. Oh. He’d forgotten how good it felt to kiss her. How much he wanted to sink into her softness. If only there wasn’t this damn fence between them. If only there wasn’t all this buzzing. If only Sarah Hawkins didn’t hate him so much.

Cassie pulled back way too soon, laying a hand on his cheek, rubbing her palm across the scruff of his beard. “I’ll talk to Sarah,” she said. “Because believe me, I’m going to want to have you inside the house at some point.” Her voice was low, urgent, and it did things to Nick’s insides. There was innuendo there, and he wanted more.

“And I’d like to be inside…your house. At some point.” He raised an eyebrow and her cheeks flamed in response. He flipped his hands under hers so he could entwine their fingers. “But for now I’ll just say good night.”

“Good night.” She squeezed lightly on his hands before letting go. She backed away, up the front walk, until her heel bumped against the bottom step. He stayed on the sidewalk, rooted to the spot under a streetlight until Cassie was up the front steps of her porch and inside. The sound of her front door closing echoed down the street to him in the quiet of the night, finally setting him free to find his way home. As he headed down the sidewalk the weird, staticky buzzing that had filled his head was gone, but he could still feel it there somewhere—a faint, unsettling whisper tickling the back of his brain, getting quieter as he walked away, a radio station losing its signal. Its absence was a relief, but why was it there at all? Until they figured that out, he wasn’t going to be hanging out much at Cassie’s place. That was for sure.

It wasn’t until the next morning that he remembered they hadn’t exactly set a date for the talk (text? chat?) with Elmer. But he barely had time to feel disappointed, because there she was, coming through the door, square in the middle of the lunchtime rush.

“Hey.” He threw her a quick smile as she walked through the door. “I’m a little tied up right now, but if you want to give me a minute, we can…” His voice trailed off as she took her laptop and charging cord out of its bag, a sheepish expression on her face. “Come on. Again?” He tried to sound grumpy, he really did. But he couldn’t help it; his heart was soaring. Cassie was back at her table in his café and all was right with the world. Suck it, Spooky Brew.

“Look, it wasn’t my fault.” But Cassie was already laughing. She was glad to be back too.

“Did you unplug your laptop?” He shook his head at her in mock despair as he wiped down the counter. The counter was perfectly clean, but this made him look busy and he didn’t have to go too far away from her.

“Well, yes, but—”

“Sounds like it’s your fault then.”

“But it was so nice out this morning!” she protested. “The breeze off the ocean was gorgeous up on the balcony. Plus I had a meeting and I…” She tried to look contrite but the grin messed it all up. “Okay, maybe I wanted to show off my beach view a little.”

“Can’t blame you there. You want some lunch?”

She shook her head. “I had a sandwich a little bit ago. I really am only using you for your outlet.” But her smile took the sting out of the words as she approached the counter, stretching up on her toes to get closer to him. She looked so much like she had last night, by the garden gate, that he automatically leaned in toward her. To hell with professionalism in the workplace. He placed his hands flat on the counter and met her halfway in a quick, sweet kiss hello. Apparently they were at that stage now, and that was fine with him.

He lingered for just a moment too long, distracted by the way her smile felt against his mouth. Then Ramon yelled “Get a room!” from the kitchen, and the moment was broken.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“Please.” The color was high in Cassie’s cheeks as she dropped back to her heels. Had he put that color there, or was it Ramon’s commentary? She returned to her table in the back. “I promise I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

He waved her off. “I kind of like you in my hair. May have to add you to the electric bill, though.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Her dark eyes danced at him, and everything in him lit up like Christmas. He liked the way he felt around her. He was determined to go more than a few days this time without fucking it up.

Nick had never been the best at customer service, but today he was worse. Just a little bit shorter with the customers, just a little more eager for everyone to get the hell out of his place so he could turn his attention back to Cassie. But she was patient, typing away at her laptop, until the lunch rush had slowed to a trickle. She took out her earbuds when he brought a second hazelnut latte to her table. “So…do you think there’s a good time we could try the whole…” She waved a hand in his direction, a gesture that could mean anything from text your ghost roommate to take off your pants . Nick was pretty sure it was the former, but he sure as hell wouldn’t say no to the latter.

“This?” He took his phone out of his pocket and waved it at her as he headed to the register to cash out a customer. “It’s not like it’s a secret. Just about everyone knows that Elmer exists.”

As if on cue, the customer—an elderly guy who Nick was pretty sure knew Elmer when he was alive—took his change, dropping the coins and a single into the tip jar, giving Nick a nod that was more of an upward jerk of the chin. “Tell him hey.”

“You got it, Mr. Maddox.” He bumped the cash drawer closed then glanced at Cassie. “See?”

She held up a defensive hand, her eyes on her laptop as she tapped a few keys. “Point taken.”

“We can bug him after I close up. He’s been kind of quiet today, and it’s been nice to run the place without his micromanaging.” He held his breath, expecting his hip pocket to buzz with some kind of protest. But the phone stayed silent.

Cassie nodded. “I’ll drink this fast.”

“Take your time.” Like Nick was ever going to kick her out. “I can close up around you.”

She took another sip of her latte. “I can wait.”

But that was a lie, Nick noted with amusement. As two o’clock came and went, what was left of the lunch crowd trickled out one by one, much too slowly as far as Nick was concerned. He looked over at Cassie, practically vibrating as he cashed out the last person, and when the place was finally empty she was out of her seat like a shot, heading over to the counter. “Now?” she asked, as eager as a kid wanting to see what Santa had left.

“Now what?” Nick kept his eyes down, smiling an innocent smile at the salt and pepper shakers he’d suddenly decided it was time to refill. He was teasing her, but he couldn’t help it.

Cassie threw a sugar packet at him, and he dodged it neatly. “You know what! Can we text him now?”

“I thought you were here because you had work to do?” That earned him another sugar packet. “Okay! Fine!” He held up his hands, deflecting a third one, before motioning her behind the counter.

“Oooh, everything looks so different from back here.” Cassie gazed around, peeking at the spaces under the counter, craning her neck to take everything in as though she’d been ushered into some kind of secret world. “All this power,” she continued, sidling over to the espresso machine. “I could make my own coffee and everything.”

“You could bake your own banana bread too.”

“Wow,” she deadpanned. “How do you not let all this go to your head?” There was a sparkle in her eyes. Damn, but he loved her brand of sarcasm.

“Ramon,” he replied. “He keeps me humble.”

She nodded. “I can see that.”

Just then Ramon burst out from the kitchen, as though his name had summoned him. “You need me for something?” He wiped his hands on his apron.

Nick shook his head. “We’re good here. You can take off. I can finish up.”

“You sure?” He looked out into the empty café. “Looks kinda busy out here.” Nick half expected a tumbleweed to make its way through for emphasis.

Nick nodded. “I’m a pro. I got this.”

Ramon waved him off with a chuckle, shucking his apron as he left. Nick locked the door behind him then returned to Cassie behind the counter, pulling his phone out of his pocket. But when he pulled up his messages he was at a loss. He’d never initiated a text chain with Elmer before. The texts came in, and he replied. Every new conversation came in marked Unknown Number and started a new thread. How would this work? Should he just reply to the most recent one? Would Elmer receive it, or had he already spiritually moved on to the next burner phone?

Before he could decide what to do, his phone buzzed in his hand, nearly sending him out of his skin.

You looking for me?

Well. That answered that. Cassie gave a soft gasp next to him as he responded. Sure am. You good to talk?

What the hell else am I doing? I don’t exactly have a full schedule these days.

“Whoa,” Cassie breathed. She stared at the screen with wide eyes. “That’s…” She swallowed. “Words on the fridge are one thing, but this…” She shook her head in wonder. “That’s really a dead guy.”

Well, you don’t have to put it like that . The response appeared like magic on the screen. Nick snorted, and after a moment Cassie laughed too, the sound thin.

“Good point. I apologize,” she said into the phone, like they were on speaker. “Wait.” She looked up at Nick. “Do you need to type that, or can he hear me?”

“Either/or,” Nick replied as Elmer’s response came through. I can hear you. Nick insists on typing because it’s more civilized or something. Seems like more work to me.

“I like to text,” Nick said, very pointedly typing the same words as he spoke them. “It makes all this…” He circled his hand around his phone. “Seem more normal. That okay with everyone?”

“Yep.” Cassie popped the p while Elmer responded Sure on Nick’s phone. “So do you want me to…” She held out a hand for his phone. “I can type questions to him if you want. Or you can. Whatever works for you.”

“Ahh, it’s fine. We can skip the middleman. Just talk.” Normality was overrated at this point.

“You sure?” Cassie leaned away from him, pulling her own phone out of her back pocket. Nick was flummoxed. Did she think Elmer’s answers would show up on her own phone? But before he could tell her that it didn’t work like that, she pulled up her Notes app to a very full screen. Of course. She’d come prepared for this.

“Okay.” She consulted her list while Nick tilted his phone toward her. Which was pointless; Elmer wasn’t listening through the phone’s microphone, but again. Whatever kept this whole thing semi-normal. “You said you knew Mrs. Hawkins, right?”

Not much, myself , came the response. She was already a widow when I was a kid. My dad talked about old C.S. like he was a god or something around here. And he didn’t think much of Mean Mrs. H.

“Is there anything you remember about her? Was she really mean?”

One thing about Elmer’s texts: they popped up fast. Faster than anyone could conceivably type out words. That was plain with the lengthy responses that showed up now on Nick’s screen . Kids in the neighborhood started calling her Mean Mrs. Hawkins, and Pop thought it was funny. But she never seemed mean to me. I thought she looked sad .

“Sad?” Cassie glanced up at Nick, almost to confirm what they had both read. “Do you think she missed her husband?”

Nick shook his head. “That doesn’t make much sense. Everything now implies that she offed her husband. That’s a pretty big stretch from grieving widow.”

Beats me.

“Yeah.” Cassie sighed. “We’ve got to be missing something.”

Sorry I can’t be more help. I was just a kid in those days.

“No, no, I get that,” Cassie hastened to assure him, but Nick narrowed his eyes.

“You said you knew Mrs. Hawkins,” he said. “?‘Ask me anything,’ that’s what you said. Why are you bullshitting us now?”

Oh come on, kid. You knew I was bullshitting you. What, you can’t do math? She was in her forties when I was born.

Nick tossed his phone to the counter. What a waste of time. He wanted to be mad at Elmer, but could he blame him? Dude was lonely, and for the first time in decades someone had come to him for help, instead of just ignoring his good-intentioned suggestions.

Cassie picked up Nick’s phone, studying the words Elmer left. “It’s okay.” Her voice was soothing. Probably just the kind of thing Elmer wanted to hear. “But you’re the only one we know who was around in those days. Any little detail you can remember might be important.”

At first there was a pause, and Nick wondered if Elmer was gone. Once again, Nick had always been the one to end the conversation with him; as far as he knew, Elmer would talk forever, given the chance.

But then the typing bubbles appeared, followed far too quickly by a paragraph that took up Nick’s entire screen.

She liked music. The windows in her house were almost always open, and you could hear music playing. Classical pieces on a phonograph, and sometimes she played the piano. You could see her from the street when she played. She always had roses growing by her garden gate. Big, round ones. She loved those roses. Sometimes kids would sneak into her garden and pick them, and she’d chase them out. But she didn’t sound angry. She sounded almost scared. Like the roses were poison, and she was trying to keep the kids from getting hurt.

For a long moment neither Nick nor Cassie spoke. “The roses were poison?” Cassie finally said. “That…that doesn’t make any sense.”

It was LIKE they were poison, not really poison. Damn Nick, you’re right. It’s hard to get your meaning across like this. Which is weird, since it’s nothing but words.

“It’s all in the tone of voice,” he murmured, something he had said to Elmer more than once. But had Elmer ever listened? Nope. What a surprise.

Point is , Elmer continued, I always had the feeling she wasn’t trying to keep people away to be mean. It was more like she was trying to keep them safe from something.

“Could have fooled me.” Nick’s mind went to last night, to the bees and the static that kept him from going too close to Cassie’s house. Was this Mrs. H’s way of chasing him away, since she couldn’t get her hands on a stick? He didn’t give a fuck about her roses that weren’t there anymore anyway.

Cassie obviously remembered too. She slid an arm around his, hugging his arm to her. “I couldn’t get any answers out of her last night. She said she didn’t want to hurt you. Then she said ‘get him out’ again, just like…” She swallowed hard. “Just like she did that other time.”

“Yeah.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “So she still doesn’t like me, and now she’s lying about it.” He squinted at the phone. “Can ghosts lie?” He directed the question to Elmer, who responded almost immediately.

Sure we can. I said I liked the color you painted the café, remember?

“Hey.” Nick looked around the pale blue of the café. He’d closed down the place for two weeks during the off-season a couple years back, giving the inside a fresh coat of paint and updating some of the appliances. He was still paying off that small business loan, but it was all worth it. At the time, Elmer had said he liked the color. What an asshole.

But Cassie wasn’t buying it. “Why would she lie to me, though? All this time, she’s wanted to be heard. And she’s never been outright aggressive toward me. I mean, she’s weirdly insistent about the house being hers. I’m about to leave my closing papers out in a conspicuous place just to get her off my back on that. But she’s never actually been unfriendly.”

“Even though she scared the shit out of you?” For as long as he lived, Nick was never going to forget Cassie’s face that early morning after Mrs. Hawkins had first made contact. Cassie’s haunted expression was the most chilling thing he’d ever seen, and he lived in a town populated by ghosts.

But Cassie’s memory was shorter. “That wasn’t her fault,” she said. “She was trying to get her point across.”

“She sure did that.”

“No, I mean it. Can you imagine being this…this incorporeal spirit, unable to make anyone realize you’re there, and suddenly there’s all these words on the refrigerator and you can send a message? Like, Elmer…” She directed her words toward the ghost inside Nick’s phone now. “It had to be amazing when you realized you could text people, right?”

Nick swallowed a chuckle as Elmer responded You have no idea . He still didn’t have a firm grasp on how it all worked when it came to Elmer, and he doubted that Elmer did, either. Before he’d died, Elmer had interfered with the running of “his” café the old-fashioned way: by showing up daily, criticizing the coffee, and badgering the new owner with feedback until he gave up and sold the place. Then Elmer started in on that new guy, until Elmer’s sudden death from a heart attack. Not long after that, the second new owner made a crucial error: he got a cell phone with texting capability. And then the texts started coming.

Nick had been the first one who could roll with all this. And while he’d patted himself on the back more than once for being so nice to the grumpy old ghost, this was the first time he’d really considered what it must mean to Elmer. To have his voice heard, in a time when you should be silent forever.

Nick could relate, after all. Sure, he was surrounded by friends here in his hometown, but there were times when he’d never felt so alone.

He looked down at his phone with new eyes. If Cassie could put all this effort into helping the ghost in her house, one she wasn’t even sure she wanted hanging around, the least he could do was listen to Elmer a little more often. That was what friends did for each other, right?