Lost Souls (Cainsville 3.6)

"This one's different. This one is interesting."

Gabriel hesitated just a heartbeat. Then he picked up a file folder and leafed through the contents. "Yes, well, given that I have quite enough--"

"You're bored."

"I am far too busy to be bored."

"Nope, you're not. Liv's gone, and you're bored."

"With Olivia gone, I believe the proper word would be resting."

"Ha. No, sorry. After she left, I bet you had exactly twelve hours of mild relief that the rollercoaster had stopped. Then boredom settled in. You're missing her, too, but it's easier to say you're bored, so we'll go with that. I have brought you a case. A ghost story."

Gabriel closed the folder and laid his fingertips on it.

"Ah, that got your attention," Patrick said.

"Only because I cannot imagine how a ghost could pay my rates."

Patrick sipped his coffee and settled in his chair. "Picture the scene. It's a dark and stormy night."

"If that's how you start your stories, it's a wonder you sell any books at all."

"It's not how I start them, which you would know if you read my books."

"I scarcely have time to eat, let alone read."

"Oh? I seem to recall a boy who would eat while reading. And walk while reading. It's a miracle you survived childhood without getting hit by a car, your nose stuck in some book. You can't tell me you don't read fiction."

"Not the sort you write," Gabriel murmered.

"Ouch."

"If you have a story to tell, please provide me the CliffsNotes version. My first client arrives in fifteen minutes."

"Fine. Dark and stormy night, yada yada. Guy picks up a hitchhiker by the side of the road and--"

"And she disappears. Whereupon the man returns home to discover his wife drying their wet dog in the microwave, except it isn't a Chihuahua at all, but a giant rat."

"You know your urban legends."

"As should you, given that you are a writer of supernatural fiction and a scholar of folklore. Yes, I heard that story on the police scanner last night. It is remarkable only for its sheer ridiculousness. I suppose she was wearing white, too."

"Actually, yes. But--"

"And asked to be dropped off near a cemetery?"

"I don't think so."

"Then this ghost lacks proper appreciation for the lore. I am disappointed."

"That sounds remarkably like sarcasm."

"Never." Gabriel took the folder to the cabinet and exchanged it for another. "Even if there were a mystery here, Patrick, there is not a case. Not a paying client. Except, perhaps, work for a good divorce attorney."

"Divorce attorney?"

Gabriel set the new file on the desk and opened it. "A middle-aged man in a luxury vehicle picks up a presumably attractive young woman on a rainy night? Drives her well off the beaten track? That's almost a cliche in itself. If he has a wife, she should be in the market for a divorce lawyer, which I am not. I wouldn't say she even requires a particularly good lawyer, considering her husband was foolish enough to report the encounter. That alone suggests--"