why he was here.”
Mindy nodded.
Mr. Fine snorted. “Yeah, that’s it. Why don’t you lie to her some more? You’re not a very good friend, are you?”
What a mean and nasty ghost. That comment was so uncalled for, but by his smug expression, I knew he didn’t care.
“You call me if you need anything,” I said.
I hugged Mindy tight, then Callahan kissed her on the cheek.
Mindy folded her arms in front of her chest. “If that ghost comes back I’ll be at your front door again before you can say annoying best friend.”
I laughed. “Don’t knock next time, just use your key and come on in.”
***
Mr. Fine made the trip home with us. No big surprise there. He sat in the middle of the backseat, but it wasn’t as if he had a choice. Callahan had made it to the passenger side before Mr. Fine had a chance to call shotgun. Unfortunately, Mr. Fine didn’t remain quiet, but honestly, had I really expected him to shut his trap? None of them ever did. He started off with the coughing—I knew he was only pretending to have something stuck in his throat, because really, he was dead. How sick could he be? Then he started with the humming, which turned into whistling. The noise was getting on my very last nerve. I had precious few nerves to spare at this point. An endless stream of annoying ghosts had made me zip through every single nerve I had.
My little farmhouse on the outskirts of town sat under a canopy of tall oak trees. It was just the right size for me with three bedrooms, two baths, and a cozy fireplace in every room. I loved opening the windows in every room and listening to the rustle of the leaves. The house was barely visible under the cover of night as we drove up the gravel drive. Nighttime had hidden the bright orange, yellow, purple and green leaves that filled every tree too. The smell of sweet apples, fallen leaves and pumpkin still hung in the air though.
We’d barely pulled up to my front door when my new ghost friend jumped out from the backseat, as if I’d invited him in or something. “Make yourself at home,” I wanted to yell sarcastically. But I didn’t want Callahan to think I was totally nasty to the ghosts though, so I refrained.
Mr. Fine didn’t even wait for me to open the front door. When Callahan and I entered the foyer, he was already making his way up the stairs. The hardwood floors creaked as we stepped across the threshold. Thankfully I’d remembered to leave the little lamp on the table next to the door turned on because otherwise the house was pitch black. I’d stubbed my toe one to many times before I finally decided to do something about it.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” I yelled.
Callahan froze in his tracks.
“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to the ghost.” I pointed toward the stairs.
Callahan looked, but, of course, saw nothing. I could only imagine how it was for others who didn’t see the spirits like I did. A wee bit confusing.
“Right. The ghost.” Callahan nodded.
I pointed at Mr. Fine and gave him a warning glare. I’d chase him up those stairs if I had to.
“You are not hiding in my attic. That’s just weird. So knock it off.”
What was with ghosts and attics? Callahan frowned in utter confusion.
“Get down here and act like you’re alive right now or I will drag out my sage and cleanse your butt into the light right now. Do you understand me?” I pointed to the spot on the floor beside me.
Callahan chuckled. “I take it we have a testy ghost with us?”
“Unfortunately, yes, we do.”
Mr. Fine stood midway up the stairs with a scowl across his face.
After a couple seconds, he finally said, “I’ll come down there, but don’t think because you’re some fancy psychic that you’re going to bully me and tell me what to do all the time.”
“Well, I think as long as you’re hanging out in my house that I have the right to tell you what to do,” I said.
Callahan stood beside me staring straight ahead as if he didn’t know what to say or do.
Callahan turned to me. “Larue, I don’t want you to think you have to keep secrets from me. When there are ghosts around us, just tell me. I can handle it. Give me some more credit,