Big Ghouls Don't Cry - a Jodi Collister, Ghoul Detective Mystery

Chapter Five

The rest of the day could not possibly have been more boring. In fact, I would have gone so far as to say that I was bored to death, but I didn’t want to push things too far with Mel. She could take my teasing to a certain point, but she did have her limits, and I was trying to respect them.

            About five minutes before closing time, the phone rang. Mel pounced on it like it was the last pair of Jimmy Choos in her size at a clearance sale. “Crawford and Collister Detective Agency,” she answered in a voice as smooth as butter. I perched on the edge of the desk, wondering if I could poof myself into the receiver so I could hear the other end of the conversation.

            “Oh, of course. Yes, I’ll take care of it. Thanks.” Mel hung up and swiveled toward me. “That was your landlord.”

            “Let me guess. He’s not taking my death as a good excuse to let me keep the place.”

            “Right. He’d like us—well, me—to come over and pack up.”

            I sighed. He certainly hadn’t given us much time, had he? The funeral home didn’t even have their paddy paws on me yet and already I was getting kicked out of my apartment. “Well, it’s not like we have anything else to do tonight. Let’s go get it done,” I replied.

            Mel locked the door to the office and we stopped by her place so she could change her clothes. Then she grabbed some plastic sacks out of her pantry cupboard. “Should we go do this thing?”

            “Yeah. I’ll meet you over there, okay?”

            “Sure.” She slung her giant tote over her shoulder and grabbed her keys.

            I poofed over to the apartment to wait. I didn’t see the point in taking the subway with her—it might be entertaining to make sarcastic comments about the other passengers and watch her try not to laugh, but I needed a minute alone. I materialized in my old bedroom, the place where I’d spent most of my time when I was home.

            The last morning of my life, I’d woken up cocooned in my down comforter. I remembered lying there in the shaft of sunlight that poured through my window, just enjoying the warmth on my face. I reached out and touched the comforter. It was still soft, but the textures felt different under my fingertips now. I concentrated for a moment to see if I could will the sensation to become stronger, but it didn’t. Maybe I wanted it too much.

            My closet was full of pretty clothes I’d apparently never wear again. I tried my zipper one more time—nope. Stupid thing wouldn’t budge. I stuck out my tongue. It’s a good thing my dress wasn’t getting dirty. I’d be wearing it a long, long time.

A few minutes later, I heard a key in the lock. Mel stepped into the hallway and called out, “You here?”

            “Yep.” I poofed next to her, and to her credit, she didn’t even flinch. We were both getting used to it. “I’m ready to attack this thing.”

            Mel hit speed dial on her cell phone and called Chenzo’s. Yeah, we were predictable—but when you know what you like and you know where to get it, why waste time hunting around for something else?

            “Hey, Chenzo, it’s Mel. I need our usual, please.” She paused. “Oh, you’re right. Yeah, I guess I do need to accept it. Pizza just for me, then.” She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her, and hung up. “This is going to take a lot of getting used to, Jodi. I mean, you’re here, but you’re not here. And can you eat? Have you tried?”