A Touch of Life

23

Seamus had been right, and there had been no murderous ghost. Rick Snow's business partner, who co-owned his bakery, had been trying to convince Rick that he was going mad by moving things around constantly and stealing things, slowly increasing his attempts in trying to make his partner believe he was losing his mind.

Apparently they hadn't gotten along for a long time, and both wanted the bakery for themselves, but the other stubbornly refused to leave. Trying to convince Rick that he was going mad and that a ghost was driving him out of his business had taken too long, and so the other man eventually decided to set the bakery on fire with Rick in it, planning to claim the insurance off of it.

Seamus insisted he'd known that would be the outcome all along, but Emmie had seen the fear flash through his eyes when they'd investigated the bakery and heard footsteps following them, followed by all of the charred equipment falling off of the shelves.

***

Emmie had come to admit that his life was far from ordinary, but he loved it regardless. He spent his days at the bakery, his bakery, and spent his nights with two of his favourite people, solving crimes in the most obscure way.

It was just a given that Fleur was part of Emmie's life now, that she'd go where Emmie went and she'd do what Emmie did, if he wanted to. Fleur started working at the bakery, being tutored by Kai on everything he needed to know.

It worked out well; Kai had been rushed off his feet waiting tables and constantly cleaning, and people seemed to fall for Fleur's charm just as quickly as Emmie had.

Everything had worked out alarmingly well for Emmie, considering not too long ago he had been friendless, almost homeless, and penniless. Sure, he spent far too much time than he'd like staring at dead bodies, and if he so much as brushed his best friend's hand, said best friend would drop dead. But otherwise, Emmie was happy - the happiest he'd been in a long time.

Winter had come quickly, and Emmie had never been more grateful for a house that actually had working radiators. The snow began to fall earlier this year, and Fleur was like a complete child about the snow, because apparently snow equated to Christmas, and so naturally their Christmas celebrations began in early November.

Emmie wasn't complaining; last year he'd spent Christmas in a bar beside Seamus, since neither had families close enough to go to.

"I've never been so cold in all my life," Emmie grumbled as he and Fleur walked down the street towards the bakery. It was still dark outside, which made Emmie's mood even worse, because every muscle in his body was protesting to him being awake before it was even light.

Fleur, however, was a horrendously cheerful morning person.

"Hey, look on the bright side, at least we don't look utterly insane when we want to hold hands anymore. Wearing gloves in the middle of summer caused a few heads to turn," Fleur gave Emmie's gloved hand a squeeze, and Emmie laughed.

He remembered in the summer, Fleur had turned up at the bakery in two coats, a scarf, and a peaked hat so that she wouldn't be noticed, even though it was 30°C outside.

"In that case, I want it to be cold every day so that we can actually hold hands without looking like we belong in a mental hospital," Emmie replied.

Fleur snorted and shook her head. "You're so romantic."

Emmie turned to Fleur to see that Fleur was staring up at the sky, watching the large puffs of snow drift down in front of her. Her nose and cheeks were red, and droplets of melted snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes and dribbled down her cheeks, but she was smiling.