Spooky Business (The Spectral Files #3) - S.E. Harmon Page 0,24

I struggled to relearn the basic concepts of inhaling oxygen. “Better?” he asked.

I asked you to kiss me, not kill me. “Better,” I croaked.

Chapter 6

From the look of the Zappa fairgrounds, no one had been there for quite some time. Everything was both strange and familiar, leaving me with an undeniably eerie feeling. I traced my finger across a broken-down sign, the exact one from my dream. The déjà vu of it all sent a chill down my spine.

“I knew you’d come.”

I turned to find Joseph standing there, looking much different than the last we’d spoken. His wild dark curls had been tamed and tucked neatly behind his ears. Any traces of blood were gone, and his previously deteriorating clothing was neat and clean. His shirt was a green plaid, and his trousers were brown. He smelled faintly of a cologne reminiscent of the one I used to wear in high school.

“You didn’t leave me much of a choice,” I said cautiously.

“I thought it would be appropriate,” he said a little bitterly. “This is where I ended. It seemed like a good place for a new beginning. A good place for our first date in a long time.”

“Date?” I couldn’t see my face, but I was pretty sure my eyes were as big as fifty-cent pieces. “This is not a—”

“God, Alex.” He scowled. “It’s like you don’t remember anything at all.”

I pointed at myself. “Not Alex, remember?”

He blinked at me for a few moments, taking in my appearance from head to toe. “You’re really not, are you?”

“No,” I said, hoping without hope that it was finally sinking in. “I’m not Alex, but I am here to help you.”

“To help me with what?” He frowned at me. “I lived. I died. The end.”

That’s certainly a minimalist approach to an autobiography.

“Life is too short and precious to waste time on things that don’t matter anymore. Come with me.” He caught my hand. “We haven’t even ridden the carousel yet.”

I glanced at his earnest face and then at the ride. Like everything else on the fairgrounds, it was dilapidated and faded, the once gleaming, proud animals chipped and weathered. I sighed. If sitting on a broken-down old horse helped him be more forthcoming, then so be it.

I tugged back my hand unobtrusively. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

As we walked toward the ride in silence, I pretended not to notice him sticking a little closer to me than necessary. Our shoulders bumped a few times, and he murmured an apology. I cleared my throat before things could get too awkward, or before I had to acknowledge I was indeed on a first date with a ghost. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“What is there to say?”

Something about who killed you? I don’t know, I’m just spitballing here. “Anything. Your likes, your dislikes, your friends, your childhood….”

“I had a great childhood,” he said with a frown. “My father wasn’t in the picture, but my mother was great. She had a full-time job and still managed to hold it all together.”

“That must’ve been difficult.”

“Yes,” he said simply, his eyes shadowed. “But as I said, she was a great lady.”

“And what about Alex? When did you meet him?”

“A foreign film assignment for one of my college classes. I went with a few of my friends, but they were just there long enough to get credit. Alex came in late and wound up sitting next to me. We connected immediately like we’d been friends forever. It was….” He looked a bit bashful. “Magical.”

“How long were you together?”

“Five years. He broke up with me on what should’ve been our anniversary.”

Happy anniversary, sweetheart, and by the by, I’d like to see other people. I winced. “Did he tell you why?”

“No, but he didn’t have to. His parents were always controlling Alex’s life, and they didn’t approve of our relationship. They wanted him to marry the right woman and have perfect grandchildren, and they fought over it often.” He sighed. “Eventually, he caved.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What’re you gonna do?” He lifted a shoulder. “We were so perfect for each other. I’m just sorry he couldn’t see that.”

We reached the carousel, and he waited for me to choose my animal first. I clambered on a fierce-looking lion, and he climbed on the black horse next to me. He rubbed the nose fondly. “I think I’ll call her Thunder.”

Silently, I named mine Simba. “What do you remember about the last day of your life?” I asked. “Did Alex have anything to do with your