“I’m hoping to surprise him,” she said.
“By getting yourself thrown in jail?” Tom asked. There he was, being an asshole again. He should shut his trap, lock up the place, and let Rusty deal with her. God knew he needed to get at least a few hours’ sleep. He doubted that was possible, though. At least not until he found out what Allie Grant was doing inside his building.
She ignored his sarcasm and gave Rusty a sweet smile. A smile Tom instinctively knew was fake. “Actually, I’m here following a lead for a story,” she said.
Rusty frowned. “What’s that got to do with the old senior center?”
“Have you heard any rumors about a ghost haunting this place?” Allie asked.
Rusty’s eyes popped wide. “A ghost? Here? Golly, Allie, no way.”
“Yep. That’s what I’m here to investigate. A real honest-to-life ghost.”
Rusty glanced nervously around the room. “But…if it’s a ghost, then it isn’t alive. Right?”
Allie’s gaze met Tom’s. Just for a second. But long enough for him to know exactly what she was thinking, because he was thinking it, too. Somehow he managed to keep a straight face.
“I was just using a figure of speech, Rusty,” Allie said smoothly.
“Oh, yeah. Sure, sure. So…” Rusty lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Did you see or hear anything…weird in here?”
“Well, I did get a sort of warm and fuzzy feeling, but it disappeared the minute Dirty Harry here came charging in.”
Rusty looked momentarily confused, until he realized Dirty Harry was none other than Tom. “Oh. Just took for granted you two knew one another. Allie, this here is Tom Donalan, he’s the site foreman for Pappas-Hernandez Construction. He’s in charge of taking down the building and putting up the new town rec center.”
“Allie and I already know each other,” Tom said. “We—”
“Went to high school together,” she quickly clarified.
They knew each other a lot better than that, but Tom let it slide.
“High sc
hool, huh? Go Wolverines!” Rusty thrust three fingers in the air to form the letter W. He waved the symbol above his head just like all the kids did during high school football games. Only for Rusty, that must have been at least twenty-five years ago.
Once again, Tom caught Allie’s gaze. This time, she held it a little longer and for an instant it was as if they’d been transported back to their first shared smile, back to the first day of senior year AP Chemistry. As small as Whispering Bay High was, it had been the first time in their entire four year high school career they’d shared a class. Not that Tom hadn’t always been aware of her. At five foot ten with a set of legs that went on forever, a teenage boy would have to be dead not to have noticed Allison Grant.
She turned and gave Tom an appraising look that bordered on the hostile. “You’re really the person in charge, huh?”
“You better believe it.”
Her right eyelid twitched. “So,” she said, ignoring him to address Rusty, “back to the Ghost of Whispering Bay. Haunting the old senior center at night, roaming the halls of the abandoned building searching for the people he or she once loved in life. What can you tell me about that?”
“Unbelievable,” Tom said. “Please don’t tell me you actually believe that malarkey.”
“Malarkey?” She fisted her hands on her hips. “Do people still use that word?”
“What word would you like me to use?”
Rusty glanced between the two of them. “Um, Tom, Allie, we’re all friends here, right?”
“Sure, Tom and I are great friends,” Allie said.
Rusty still looked confused. Not that Tom blamed him. You’d have to be an idiot to not pick up the tension between them.
“Look, Donalan, I take it from your attitude that you don’t believe in ghosts, but I have proof that someone does,” Allie said.
“Oh yeah? What kind of proof?” Cause he’d love to see that.