Before You Ghost - Helena Hunting Page 0,16
plans. They kept me focused. And grounded. And happy. Evan was trying to keep me happy.
Why was he being the perfect guy when he was dead?
“Sounds good. I have Michigan’s business card. I’ll send him a text about your body and today’s recovery mission.”
Officer, this is Sammi from Lover’s Peak. Curious if you need me up there when you remove my boyfriend’s body from the endangered bird’s cliff today? Thanks.
A message buzzed back quickly.
Miss Riggs, we will be up at the mountain today, but you can wait for my phone call or text later. We are having a few emergencies up here on Lover’s Peak, so it’s best if you stay off the scene today.
Evan was pacing now. “Well, that doesn’t sound good at freaking all. Maybe look at the local police Twitter and see if there’s been activity or something?” He ran a hand through his ghost hair.
It was a good idea. I held my phone and hesitated.
“What? What’s wrong?” He stood close to me and looked at the black screen.
“I don’t want to go to their site. I know it‘ll have information about your accident there, and I just don’t want to see it in black and white, you know? Does that make sense?” I sat down on the edge of the bed and let my phone lay in my lap.
Evan’s left eye started to twitch, an indication that we would fight soon. Even my nipples got hard seeing his temper starting to flare. But then he swallowed whatever he was going to say. Like he actually swallowed it—I saw his Adam’s apple move.
Instead, he offered, “Let’s head back up the mountain. Maybe we’ll get lucky and I’ll run into Morven and wring his neck myself.”
I had doubts about that. He couldn’t even give me the chills this morning. I liked the idea of going back to the scene. I was very interested to see what the hell Michigan was talking about. What could be an emergency when Evan was already dead? And honestly, until Evan’s body was taken care of, I felt like I’d always be thinking of him up there. Feeling incomplete that I’d left our date with only part of him. And another hopeful part of me thought if we got his body back, we could somehow jam his soul back in there. Then everything could go back to normal again.
_______________
We didn’t get very far on the hike before we came up on our favorite three cops in riot gear.
“Hey. Um, I decided to come after all. What’s going on?”
Corbey cleared his throat. “Well, Miss Riggs, the good news is the cursing bird’s eggs have cracked and, well, the miracle of life is happening right there next to your dead boyfriend’s body. It’s amazing. The bird is utilizing Evan’s body hair to fortify her nest. It’s really tremendous to see.”
I watched Michigan as Corbey prattled on about how cute the baby cursing birds were. He was looking from the spot where Evan’s ghost was next to me and then back again. Michigan was aware of Evan. I would bet the house on it.
Evan must have noticed the same thing, because he tested him by walking around in a big circle. Michigan paid just enough attention to Evan that I was really putting some credence to the information we found out on the internet last night.
Maybe Michigan could really talk to ghosts. Corbey’s walkie-talkie burst forth with crackling white noise.
“The gang is on the move. Repeat, the gang is on the move. Make sure your jock straps are in place and you have a bushel of wineberries on hand.”
The use of the word “gang” was interesting. I wasn’t sure how much gang activity would be going on at the top of a hiking mountain. Then there was a deep chittering. The cops all found places to hide as I stood there looking for the source of the noise.
I couldn’t see anything, but I could sense it. Something was coming. Michigan appeared at my side and whisper-yelled that I had to get the hell out of the open. He pushed me behind a large oak tree as the chattering was accompanied with the mass movement of branches.
Something huge was coming. Or a huge lot of somethings was coming. I watched as Michigan began whipping the wineberries around the tree as if they were ammunition. He had a jock strap pulled over the top of his SWAT pants.
“What is that?” Michigan had me pressed against the tree. Evan