That Thing You Do (Whispering Bay Romance 1)
“Maybe he’s not such a jerk after all.”
“Maybe.” She thought about the guilty conscience theory then dismissed it. Tom was more of a responsibility junkie. Which made his decision to postpone the demolition all the more confusing. But who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth?
Allie promised to call Emma back in the morning and was ready to dive into her research when her cell phone rang.
“I can’t believe you got your driver’s license suspended,” Zeke said.
“Well, hello to you, too.”
“You’ll be happy to know I looked into this mess for you. There’s a hefty fine and you have to present proof of insurance at a courthouse before you can drive again. You can do it locally and we can fax the information to Hillsborough County, which should take care of the suspension.”
“Excuse me, but isn’t this a little out of your jurisdiction?”
“Yeah, and you can thank me later.” Beneath Zeke’s gruffness lay an undercurrent of affection making it impossible for Allie to resent his interference.
“How about I get this over with and just thank you now?”
“That’s more like it. You know, if you’re short on funds I could pay the fine.”
“Absolutely not. I’m thirty years old. I pay for my own mistakes.”
Speaking of which, she had to pay that overdue electric bill. She said goodbye to her brother then whipped out her computer and logged onto the electric company site, then nearly emptied what was left of her checking account. She transferred some of her meager savings into her main account then sent up a little prayer to St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes (and overall desperation). Which was the perfect way to describe her finances.
Buela was the one who had turned Allie on to St. Jude. She had also made sure Allie and Zeke towed the line by going to Sunday mass and the obligatory semi-annual confession. Allie had to admit, she’d been a pretty crummy Catholic the past few years but her faith in St. Jude had never wavered, probably because Buela herself had been such a staunch believer. But Buela had also been a firm believer in the old adage God helps those who help themselves. And getting a permanent job at Florida! seemed like the perfect first step in helping herself.
She rummaged through the kitchen, grabbed a piece of the best zucchini bread she’d ever tasted, then set up her laptop on the dining room table and fired away.
Unfortunately, what Allie knew about ghosts was limited to the stuff she’d seen on T.V and in the movies, neither of which were credible sources. Of course, neither was Wikipedia, but it was a start. She read the definition aloud: “A ghost was the soul or the spirit of a person or animal that was once alive and now managed to make itself known to the living.”
Okay. Nothing she didn’t already know there.
Next, she perused a list of websites but most of them looked sketchy and absolutely none of them gave her any more information beyond what she’d learned from watching those ghost hunter shows.
A couple of weeks ago, Jen and Sean had an American Horror Story marathon. They got the first three seasons from Netflix and stayed in all day on a Saturday, eating popcorn, drinking mojitos, and laughing. Yes, laughing. Since they were watching TV in the living room of their small apartment, Allie couldn’t help but absorb a few episodes. While Jen and Sean had found the whole thing humorous, Allie literally had the crap scared out of her. She came down with a stomach flu that night and had had to sleep with her bedroom light on.
> It occurred to Allie that Jen, of all people, might be able to help with her research. She hit her roomie’s number on speed dial. After a few rings, Jen picked up. “Did you pay the electric bill?”
“Doesn’t anyone start a conversation with a simple hello anymore?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sigh. “Nothing. And yes, I paid the electric bill.”
“Good. Because I mean, you know, it is your turn.”
Allie wanted to dispute that, but she forced herself to hold back. “So this ghost story is going to take me a little longer than I originally thought, so I’ll be sticking around Whispering Bay for a while.” She left off the part about her suspended license. In order to pay the fine she’d have to wait for her next paycheck from The Blue Monkey. Thank God she had it automatically deposited. Still, that wasn’t till Friday, which meant she’d be here for at least four more days.
“I’ll probably be here till the weekend,” she told Jen.
“No problem,” Jen said, sounding unusually happy, which probably meant Sean had spent the night. Allie envisioned Sean walking around their little apartment in nothing but a loincloth. Oh no. She should have had more than coffee for breakfast.
“Yeah, uh, one more thing. I know this sounds kind of crazy but I was wondering if you had any idea where I might be able to get some general ghost information. Other than what I can find on Wikipedia.”
“I love Wikipedia,” Jen gushed, “but yeah, probably not the most reliable source, especially if you need to quote it or anything for your magazine. Have you tried contacting any mediums?”
“Is that like a psychic?”
Jen sighed impatiently. “Psychics are people with ESP—extra sensory perception.”