Axel lifted his hands with a shrug. He was Dan’s own height, a solid six three, and the kind of man who was hard to miss in a crowd. His hair was almost jet back, and his eyes were a curious gold-green color. He had mixed Native American and European background, which seemed to add to his commanding presence.
“So, I headed to the police station,” Axel continued. “You had just left. I figured this was going to be your next stop—I know you like to research—though it did take a while for you to get here. Did that have something to do with your friend?”
“My friend?” Dan said, and turning in the direction Axel had indicated, he saw she was still with him.
He swung back to Axel. “You see her?” he demanded.
“I do.”
“Then, she’s real?”
“Define real.”
Axel was his friend, but at that moment, Dan wanted to haul off and slug him. That was not the answer he was looking for.
Axel wasn’t afraid of Dan, but he might have recognized his confusion. And disbelief.
“She’s real, just dead. Maybe you could introduce us,” Axel said.
Dan blinked. “You see dead people?”
Axel nodded. “And I’m guessing you do, too?”
“Never.” Dan shook his head. How was he having this conversation? Discussing ghosts as though it was neither impossible nor surprising.
“But she’s standing right there.”
“Please, tell me this is a prank. That there’s a ridiculous new reality show where they take bets on how long it takes a person to figure out the trick.”
A woman—very solid and real—was coming around the corner of the aisle. Axel quickly stepped back—she was a large woman. She stared at the two of them and then walked on past, sniffing. “You’d think the cops would be finding out what the hell went on instead of chewing the fat in a store!” she muttered.
Dan looked after her, annoyed. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but I’m not a cop.”
She turned, looked at him, sniffed, and kept right on going—and shivering as she passed by the woman Dan was coming to think of as his flapper.
“Maybe we should buy these books and talk somewhere else,” Axel said. He picked up a stack of books and headed to the cashier. The flapper followed him. Dan stared after the two of them for a minute. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but he saw the flapper was talking to Axel, and while Axel did nothing obvious in response, it was evident—to Dan, at least—that he was listening.
She was probably complaining about him.
He stood still for a moment, barely breathing. He could hear the thump, thump, thump of his heart as his mind raced.
Axel wasn’t the kind of man who played tricks on others. And he’d heard Axel’s unit, the Krewe of Hunters, referred to as ghostbusters.
It couldn’t be real.
And yet...
It seemed it was. Could he simply accept it?
Axel, bag of books in hand, looked back at him.
Dan strode to him, heading ahead to open the door. The flapper went quickly to the door as he held it open. He looked at her.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Of course. Though, couldn’t you go right through it?”
“Yes, but...it’s not always easy. Anyway, thank you.”
Axel came through the door behind her. “Let’s go, then.”
“Hell, yes, let’s go,” Dan said and then paused. “You got a car here?” he asked Axel.
“Yup. I’ve got a Bureau car.”
“Good. Then, as we drive, you can explain to me why we don’t just ask the murder victims who the hell murdered them!” he said, and he gestured for Axel to lead the way.
He’d accepted it.
He was joining his old friend, Axel.
And a ghost.
Okay, never mind. He hadn’t really accepted it. Not yet.
“You’re coming with us?” he asked her.
“For now, yes. Then I’ve a little strolling about town to do, see what I can find out,” she said.
“You have a name?” he asked her.
She smiled. “Mabel. Mabel Greely. Nice to make your acquaintance.”
“Come on,” Axel said. “The three of us need to have a good conversation, and then, well, Adam will be waiting, and we’ll really get this all geared up.”
Dan looked from Axel to Mabel. “Forgive me my rudeness, Miss Greely. But if you’re real and you’re a ghost, why don’t we just ask the victims who killed them?”
“Because they didn’t stay,” Mabel said softly. She looked at Axel. “This poor boy. He’s so lost. Much better when people realize what they can see as children. They’re so much more accepting. We’ve so much to teach you!” she told Dan.
He felt a strange chill that was also oddly warm at the same time as she gently drew her hand down his cheek.
It couldn’t be real.
Apparently, it was.
* * *
“Katie, my name is Adam Harrison. I have a fancy title with the FBI, but I’m not a special agent. Well, I’m an assistant director, but my talent isn’t in finding murderers. My talent is in finding the people who have special abilities and can find murderers. I head a unique group called the Krewe of Hunters.” He hesitated, aware she was unnerved by him and staring straight ahead as he talked. “Katie, your dad could see the dead.”
“No. My father never said anything about seeing the dead. And I never saw him talking to the dead.”
“You wouldn’t have known.”
She turned to stare at him. “I was young when my parents died. Not stupid. I was fifteen! If he knew about this—”
“You do have the gift,” Adam Harrison said, sitting back.
She sighed. “I never saw my parents. If it’s such a gift, I would have seen my parents.”
“Some people go on, some stay. I wish I could explain why.”
“Well, you’d think they might have stayed. Instead, my first experience was with an old pirate!”
He smiled. “Well, was the old pirate helpful?” he asked.
She bit lightly into her lower lip.
What the hell was this man getting at?
“Yes,” she said honestly. “The old pirate probably saved my life.”