Mr. Wilson appeared in the passenger seat. “You’ve already performed the impossible.”
“What is that?”
“I’ve never seen the boy tongue-tied. Yes, I do believe you will be good for him.”
Ryley glanced over at the spirit. “Can’t you find someone else to go haunt? You promised.”
“Well, of course, I could go haunt my cousin and drive him insane.”
“That’s the spirit. Go do that. I’ve got another ghost to annoy,” she said, turning up the volume on the radio, drowning out any additional conversation he thought to start.
Chapter 19
Ryley had a few hours before her shift. She pulled into the diner and parked. Grabbing a table inside, she ordered. Maggie’s shift started ten minutes ago. She’d been on the same schedule every week, like clockwork.
Riley had no clue how to run a damn farm. Surely Harlon realized that might be the case. The thought of a legacy helping others had its own appeal, but only if her identity was never outed. Her criminal city-slicker father would never look for her on a farm.
Maybe if that guy, Oscar, ran things, and she was like a silent partner in the grand scheme of things, maybe then it could work.
Her gaze drifted around the diner as she ate. The table behind her was taken. The occupants had menus covering their faces. Families eating lunch caught up in conversation, and laughter filled up the rest of the place. There was a woman with two kids in the booth in front of her. A piece of apple pie was put in front of the kid with a birthday candle sticking out of it.
“I’m sorry it’s not much,” the woman lowered her voice and said in a whisper.
“It’s okay, momma,” the little boy said, pushing the pie into the middle of the table. “I’ll share it. It’s enough for all of us.”
The tender moment was like one she’d shared with her brother and mother when they’d been in hiding. Times weren’t always easy for lots of people.
Ryley slid out of the booth and headed for the counter. She pointed to the apple pie in the case and bought it. Carrying it to the table, she smiled down at the kid. “Happy Birthday.”
Tears filled the mother’s eyes. “Oh, we couldn’t, possibly.”
Ryley smiled at the woman. “Yes. You can. You remind me of my mother. She used to do the same thing.”
“She gave you apple pie too?” the kid asked.
The other little boy sat quietly with his hands in his lap. His gaze down on the table.
“Yes, she did, and when she died, my brother took over the role and ordered the pie, too. It was his way of thanking her for all she did for both of us.”
The quiet kid raised his gaze as if understanding. Ryley winked at him. “Eat the pie. It’s the best in town. I’d know. I’ve tried them all.”
Ryley grabbed her bill and took it to the counter to pay. She took a mint when Maggie appeared to ring her up. “How did it go last night trying to stop the ghost that’s haunting your friend? Did the spirit tell you who killed her?”
The man behind her leaned in a little closer while the guy sitting on the stool next to the register turned to look at her.
Oscar. He smiled. “Attending strangers’ funerals, buying birthday pies, and a psychic dealing with ghosts. You are a busy girl. But maybe Harlon knew what he was doing after all.”
“Are you following me?” Ryley squawked and handed over the money to pay for her bill.
“I am your humble employee until you officially turn down the job.”
Ryley glanced at the coffee cup sitting in front of him and the counter and its lack of food and plates.
“Well, as your potential boss, I’m ordering you to stop,” Ryley said, taking her debit card.
She spun around right into the man standing behind her. He smiled down at her when the man he’d been sitting with walked up. Felix Wilson.
“Oh, look. The gold-digger who is stealing my inheritance.”
“You must have me confused with the streetwalkers you have to pay for.”
The man looked from Felix and back to her. “You’re the unknown woman Harlon left his property to?”
Oscar’s smile dropped, and he stood from his seat.
The man glanced at Oscar and grinned. “And you were the one he didn’t leave any of it to.” The man pulled out his card. “I think you’re going to find the property too much to handle, so call me, and I’ll take it off your hands above the asking price.”
Ryley glanced down at the card. Frank Delgado, a land developer.
“Let me guess, Felix here thought he was getting everything, and you had the pen ready for him to sign a deal?” Ryley asked.
Frank’s lip twitched at the corner as he looked at Ryley. “I’m willing to make you the same offer, maybe even sweeten the pot.”
“Hey,” Felix grumbled. “You can’t make that deal; I’m going to fight her in court.”
“And surely lose,” Oscar said.
“So, what do you say? Delgado asked.
Ryley flicked the card and then held it out to Oscar between her fingers. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
Oscar’s laughter followed Ryley out of the diner, as did Delgado’s question. “What the hell is a psychic going to do with a damn farm?”
The door shut behind her. The sun had drifted below the horizon. The streetlights had just turned on. Evening was coming fast.
She slid into her car as a text from Rosalind appeared with Kitty’s address.
Ryley stared at Oscar as she started the car. Delgado, Felix, and Oscar were arguing. She turned her gaze to the mother with the two kids. The older boy was watching Ryley. He nodded and smiled.
She wiggled
