Peter glanced up with a smile as she approached. “You here to help this time, or you have more questions? Because, as you can see, this really isn’t a good time.”
“Helping this time.”
“Did the ghosts tell you we needed the extra hands?”
Ryley’s smile fell, and her shoulders deflated. She nodded in understanding and turned to leave.
Peter caught up to her before she pushed out the door, blocking her path. “That was a joke. We don’t discriminate here. We don’t care if you can see goblins as long as you’re willing to help.”
“I’d like to help. If you don’t mind working alongside a crazy woman.”
“I think all of us have a little crazy inside.” He gestured back to the serving station where the other patrons were grumbling. He showed her into the backroom.
“Samantha, looks like we’ve got some extra hands. Why don’t you help…”
“Ryley.” Ryley filled in the blank for him.
“Why don’t you help Ryley get settled in. She can help you with the potatoes.”
Samantha smiled and gestured to the table. “Grab a hair net, wash your hands, and put on some gloves.”
Peter patted her shoulder. “Welcome aboard, Ryley.”
Ryley cleaned up and joined Samantha at the sink, where she was peeling potatoes. She’d pulled out an extra peeler and gestured to it without breaking her stride.
“Do you know how, or do I need to teach you?”
“I think I can manage.”
Samantha’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Do you help here often?” Ryley grabbed a potato and tried her hand at small talk. She’d always sucked at talking to people who didn’t get her. And now that she had a reputation, thanks for Felix’s loose lips, she figured most people would cross the street before talking to her.
“As often as I can when I’m not at school or working at my paying job.” Samantha shrugged but kept peeling. “I’d work here the entire time if my mom didn’t need me to work the other job that pays so I can help with the bills.”
“Are you in high school?”
“Yeah, I was in private school on a soccer scholarship, until my dad died and Mom’s car crapped out and she used the money I needed for my books to get it fixed. She couldn’t afford to send me there anymore.”
The story sounded similar to Ryley’s, except that Samantha didn’t seem like the type of girl that would shoot her father.
“You must be running on pure adrenaline with all your jobs and classes.”
She looked up. Determination shone in her eyes. “My dad used to volunteer here and bring me with him when I was just a little girl.”
“What a great memory of him. He sounds like a good guy.”
“He was the best,” Samantha said and gestured to the potatoes. “They aren’t going to peel themselves.”
“Right.” Ryley grinned and continued to peel. She’d gotten through one potato while Samantha was on her third.
“So, is it true that you talk to ghosts?” Samantha asked.
She resisted rolling her eyes. “Sometimes, if the circumstances are just right, I can.”
Samantha lifted her hopeful gaze. “I can feel him sometimes when I’m playing my guitar. He always loved to hear me play. Do you think you could talk to him, maybe?”
“Maybe,” Ryley said. “Is there something important you want to tell him?”
She nodded and dropped her gaze to the colander full of potatoes she’d peeled. “Yeah, there is something I’d like to say.”
Samantha picked up the colander and moved across the room without another mention of Ryley’s ability. They worked in relaxed silence and occasional laughter as they joked and talked while they worked.
After the dinner rush, Peter walked into the backroom with a handful of trays he’d wanted to wash. He tossed a rag over his shoulder. “Thanks for your help. We appreciate it.”
“My pleasure. It felt good,” Ryley said, sliding the gloves off her hands. “I’d like to come back. Unless you would prefer that I wait until the media frenzy dies down.” She also knew she shouldn’t risk putting anyone else at risk while Kitty was behaving so badly. She’d hate for anyone at the shelter to get caught in the ghostly crossfire.
“We’d welcome the help anytime,” Peter said.
Ryley waved in passing and said her goodbyes as she made her way to the car, hoping she’d been busy long enough the reporter had gotten bored and left.
“That was nice of you,” Stretch said as Ryley slid into her car.
“It felt good.”
“It might have felt good, but seriously, did you see the other dead people hanging around in there? Some creepy dudes there. And I counted a couple creepy crawlies out back. Seriously, those things scare me, and I’m already dead.”
“I don’t even want to know,” Ryley said.
“I’m not sure, but I think I saw one eying you.”
Tension gripped Ryley’s shoulders, all the way to her fingertips, which whitened on the steering wheel. Just one more dang thing to worry about. Ryley blew out a breath and tried to ignore Stretch as she drove a couple of miles to her apartment complex. She was about to turn in when Stretch spoke again.
“Listen, the sexy cop is waiting at your house and he looks ready to spit bullets. Let me know if you need any tips on how to help him ease that stress. The CEO’s called me a master of…”
“Yeah, I don’t need to know that. I’m not sure I’m old enough.” Ryley stopped her mid-sentence. Seriously, Stretch was a little out there as ghosts went, but when she tried to play the bringing sexy back card, it bordered on sinister.
Ryley pulled into the parking lot.
Detective Jake Crews was sitting on the stairs, a vacant stare aimed her direction, as if lost in thought.
He rose as she parked and approached. A storm cloud skipped over his expression.
“Detective Crews. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Ryley asked.
“My mother was attacked by someone the security cameras couldn’t see.”
Ryley paused, trying to still
