The First Ghost (6 page)

Dropping the box of my belongings inside the door, I thought about nothing more than putting the kettle on. The murderous card players occupied my kitchen table, but I was so accustomed to their presence I was thinking of naming them.

Then I heard it. Long, low and mournful.

Owwwwoooooo. Owwwwoooooo.

My first thought was that Corinne had learned another new trick. This haunting thing was old already. If she started rattling chains in the attic at night, I was summoning the demon to eat her.

My second thought, and unfortunately the correct one, was that I had a very loud dog in my bathroom trying to get me evicted. “Billy!” I dove for the bathroom and wrenched the door open, prepared to scold him for howling. Instead, my jaw hung open, wobbling up and down fruitlessly with no sound coming out. It had snowed in my bathroom.

I blinked a few times and realized it was a toilet paper blizzard. Billy had found something to do other than howling. A closer inspection revealed that Billy had also entertained himself by gutting the pillow I put in there for his comfort. He’d also peed in the shower.

Mother wouldn’t approve of the words I used, but the dog didn’t care if I cussed him. He jumped and licked my face as I bent over to survey the damage. He’d done a nifty job of clawing the doorjamb. It would take a whole can of spackle and some paint if I wanted to keep my security deposit when I moved.

I looked down at the joyful dog wagging his curly tail. He regarded me with those enormous liquid eyes and cocked his head as if to say,
Like what I did with the place?
I sighed. It was probably my fault for leaving all those things handy for him.

“We’re gonna have to reach an understanding, dog, or one of us is out of here. Got it?”

His tail wagged, and he darted past my feet.

“Hey! I was starting a lecture. Come back here.” I chased him into the kitchen. The red message light of my phone blinked at me. I couldn’t think of a living soul—or a dead one, for that matter—I wanted to have a conversation with. Good thing Corinne hadn’t appeared yet. I’d have given her an earful about her destructive dog. Things were turning out exactly as I had feared. Three days’ worth of ghosts, and already I had lost my job and had my bathroom ruined.

A sense of duty and, I confess, a niggling curiosity made me push the Play Message button.

“Hi, this is...uh...Dr. Feller. Ethan. Ethan Feller. From Our Lady of Mercy Hospital? You gave me your number?”

Why, yes, I did. This was a message I actually wanted.

“I promised to call you about that girl who died. About the aunt. She was notified and has made arrangements to take the girl’s...uh...remains back to Nebraska. Anyway, I promised to call...so...I was thinking that maybe if you wanted to go out for drinks sometime or something, my number is...”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” I did a happy dance around the room looking for something to write with. “He called. He called. He really called.”

Billy thought dancing was a fine idea and pranced around under my feet, doing his best to trip me. He wheezed and snuffled in his excitement. He started to run a circle around the table, then paused and cocked his head to look at the card players.

“Do you see them, too?” I asked.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Corinne hovered over the table, arms crossed. She didn’t seem to notice the man choking his fellow player right under her. Hephzibah was right. Others didn’t see what I did. I envied them. “Looks like someone had a good day.”

“Actually my day sucked,” I said with a grin. “I got fired, your little pooch here has trashed my bathroom, and by now I’m sure the neighbors have figured out I’m hiding a dog.”

Corinne made a sound like sucking air. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to get you canned. Why the dance of joy then?”

“Because the hottest doctor in the whole world called me,” I said smugly. “Okay, the hottest doctor at Our Lady, anyway. But still, dance of joy worthy.”

“A guy? Good for you.”

The pouting was getting old. Granted, there would be no more hot dates for Corinne. That part of her life was done, but she needed to get over it. “Yes, good for me. In case you’ve been too preoccupied to notice, the last couple of days have been pretty shitty for me. I hurt my head. I lost my job. And I see dead people. In fact, I seem to have acquired a dead roommate. Oh, and a dog who’s bent on destroying my bathroom. It’s about time something good happened.”

“He looks hungry,” she said. “Have you fed him?”

I blinked. “No. What does he eat?”

“Dog food, of course. Tell me you at least put down a bowl of water.” She looked around. “Don’t you know anything about animals?”

“When I woke up this morning, I wasn’t expecting to acquire a dog. I’ll get him some food. There’s one of those big chains around the corner from the Laundromat. I see people taking their dogs in there. Billy can go, too.”

“Never. It’s much too cold for him. Isn’t it, puppy boy?”

“Hey, if I’m going out in it, he can, too.”

“You’re wearing a coat.”

“So is he. It’s not too far, and he can poop on the way. He has to poop and pee, right?”

“I’ll go, too.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Corinne. It isn’t safe out there for you.”

“Not safe?” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m already dead. What else could happen?”

I wasn’t sure how much to say, so I settled for, “I saw some weird things today.” Like soul-eating demons. “I think you should stay here where it’s warm and comfortable.”

“Like I care about that. Remember the part about being dead? I’m coming with you. You can’t stop me.”

She had me there, and she knew it. She could follow me all over the world and yap in my ear until I went crazy. “Promise me that if I tell you to run, you’ll do it.”

* * * *

The second Billy saw the leash come out, he raced in circles, making little snork-snork noises.

I poked my head out first to make sure the coast was clear. The rain had eased up, but the sidewalks were still slick. Canterbury Park is a little more pedestrian-friendly than Dallas, and there was a fair amount of foot traffic for the wretched weather. Folks darted in and out of the shopping along the trendy square filled with boutiques and niche markets. I passed the square by and continued on to the less trendy, but heavily trafficked chain stores. They weren’t pretty, but they had what I needed.

Along the way I stayed on alert for potential demons or other nasties, but I didn’t see anything scarier than the guy in a dirty down jacket arguing loudly with himself as he jaywalked through traffic.

Deftly dodging the spray from vehicles swooshing through puddles, we arrived at Petland only moderately cold and wet. Billy immediately remedied his wetness with a thorough shaking, managing to do to me what the traffic hadn’t.

“Gee thanks,” I muttered, brushing at the muddy slush on my clothes. He took the time to shake each paw and lick his balls before agreeing to accompany me through the store.

He pin-balled down the aisles, snuffling with pleasure, hiked a leg and watered a sack of cat food. A hasty look around assured me that this had gone unnoticed.

Who knew there were so many types of dog food? Three aisles? Were they kidding?

“He likes this one.” Corinne floated near the sacks. “He likes the chicken flavor. And this gravy over the top. It has vitamins for a shiny coat.”

I checked the prices. “No freaking way.”

“Can I help you?” A woman in a blue smock with handy pockets for treats stood at the ready. “What’s your baby’s name?” She bent over to Billy, who flopped over exposing his belly. She rubbed it as he snork-snorked appreciatively.

“His name is Billy. I’m looking for dog food,” I said. Duh. “I don’t know what kind to get.”

“I just told you,” Corinne said.

I ignored her. “I adopted him today, and I’ve never had a dog before.”

I obviously said the magic words, because the clerk lit up like a kid at Christmas. “Oh, how wonderful! That is wonderful. Good for you. You saved a life today.” She beamed at me. “Now this is what the vet recommends.” She pointed to the same pricey bags Corinne had tried to steer me toward.

“Hah!” Corinne said.

“Why is it so expensive?”

“It’s very balanced nutrition.”

“What’s wrong with this kind?” I pointed to a yellow bag. “I see them on TV.”

The clerk gave me a pitying look. “Nothing wrong with it, if you don’t mind feeding your dog corn and fillers.”

“Corn is bad?”

“It’s a common allergen. It adds bulk to the food, but it isn’t digestible. So you know what that means.” She looked meaningfully at Billy’s rear. “What goes in must come out.”

“Gotcha. So this expensive stuff makes less poop.”

“Exactly.” She gave me a huge smile. She had me, and she knew it. I looked at the prices and shook my head again. For that price, Billy had better shit gold bricks.

I had thought I would buy a little sack of food for a few days and maybe a water dish, because he wasn’t drinking out of my good china. Turns out, my arms couldn’t carry everything I ended up with. Billy needed food and the gravy for his coat—if the food was so balanced, why did he need supplements—a dog bed that was guaranteed to be rip-tear proof, chewy treats and toys to keep him from destroying my apartment, pooper-scooper supplies. Ugh.

I balked when it came to buying animal parts for him to gnaw on. I said no to pig’s ears and cow hooves. Billy was thrilled with the bins of bones and bits. His smashed-up little nose was going crazy whuffling and snorking.

“What’s that?” I pointed to a long, slender thing that looked an oddly shaped rawhide chew. “A bull stick?”

Andrea blushed and whispered in my ear.

“Ew! Who buys things like that?” Dog lovers had a lot to answer for in my book.

I left with my arms laden with packages and my bank account considerably lighter.

Corinne was insufferable all the way home. Where’s a demon when you need one?

I woke the next morning with two thoughts. First: I had no place to go. No one was expecting me to show up anywhere. I could lie in bed all day long and no one would care or would even miss me, which was both liberating and depressing. Second: The whining at the door was a dog, and if I didn’t take him outside immediately, he would do something vile to my carpet, assuming he hadn’t already.

So much for lying in bed. I pulled on some ugly sweats, jammed a wooly striped hat on my head and grabbed a leash. Billy danced at the door, snuffling with either joy or desperation. It all looks the same on a pug.

A quick peek outside showed me the coast was again clear. I opened the door wider and Billy darted out, half-dragging me through the parking lot. He stopped abruptly, sniffed and watered the tires of the closest SUV. Then he started to squat.

I panicked and dragged him over to the row of scraggly evergreens that passes for landscaping. I should have scooped the poop and taken the evidence away, but I’d left the supplies inside, and quite frankly the prospect was too horrible to face first thing in the morning.

I glanced at the steaming pile. There were little bits of blue in it that resembled the color of my towels. I thought I had left a washcloth in the bathroom yesterday.

This was the dog that needed forty-dollar dog food? So far he had eaten toilet paper, a pillow and a washcloth with no evidence of gastric upset.

“Keep this up and you’re getting the crap with corn in it.” We beat a hasty retreat inside before anyone saw us.

I put the kettle on. Corinne had yet to make an appearance. She was staying away longer and longer. I had no idea where she went, but I was determined to get her crossed over, find a job and a new home for Billy and bag myself a doctor. Hopefully today. It’s good to have ambition.

But in order to call Aunt Susie, I needed Corinne. The card players had vanished during the night, and I could once more enjoy my kitchen table. I warmed my hands, wishing the sun would come out and bathe the room in golden light. Billy seemed impervious to the gloom and happily polished off his balanced meal. Then he entertained himself by savaging a terry-cloth wiener dog Corinne had insisted I buy for him. At least he was enjoying it.

I hate waiting. “Corinne?” I said sharply. “Where the hell are you?”

“Where do you think I am?”

She floated over my head. “Come down where I can see you without breaking my neck, please. We need to talk.” She drifted down, wafting from side to side like a feather settling. She seemed more ephemeral every time I saw her. “Do you still want me to call your Aunt Susie?”

“Yes, please. I need to know that she’s going to be okay.”

That actually sounded reasonable. “So when is a good time?”

Corinne glanced at the faux antique clock on my mantel. “She’s at work right now.”

“That might not be the best place. How about tonight? Will she be home?”

“How should I know?”

Corinne wasn’t going to make this easy. “Does she do anything on Thursday nights? Bowling league? Ladies’ Auxiliary? Gun club?”

“Of course not. She goes to bed pretty early.”

“Okay, then. Tonight, say six or seven o’clock, we’ll give Aunt Susie a call. Then you can cross over in peace.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight,” I said firmly. “You promised. Billy is taken care of, and after Aunt Susie there’s no reason to hang around here anymore.”

Corinne’s lower lip trembled. Hephzibah had been right. Here it came. She was going to ask me to solve her murder.

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure it’s something good. You seem like a good person.”

“Do you believe in heaven?”

“I guess so. I never looked at it that carefully.” In fact, I had spent my entire life running from the issue. I was afraid to look. You would think with a family in the death business I would be at peace with the issue of dying, but I wasn’t. Oh, I knew there was something more. I had always known there was more, but once people crossed over, I really had no idea. “My mother thinks so, and she’s been clairvoyant her whole life, so she should know.”

Corinne nodded. “I always went to church and I was pretty sure until...well...I’m sort of nervous.”