I dove behind the bench. Ben hid with me.
“Hello?” the police officer called. “Hey, you kids, you’re not supposed to be in here.”
“Shit,” I whispered. “I think that’s Officer Saget.”
“Bob?”
“What? No—was that a joke, Benji Andor?”
“Too dated?” he asked, ashamed.
“A bit—shit.” I ducked down lower as the flashlight beam searched overhead again. How could I possibly explain to Ben the years of hate accumulated between Officer Saget and me? “So, fun story: I might be banned from this graveyard.”
“Florence!”
“I was a kid!”
The police officer called out to us, but I pressed my finger to my lips and told Ben to bequiet.He wasn’t going to trick me this time. I was anadult. With a functioning and fully formed brain this time!
Well, mostly functioning. On good days.
The officer walked closer, over the dark grassy hill, toward us. While I didn’t have any outstanding warrants, I did absolutely have a parking ticket I hadn’t paid in ten years. I didn’t want to think about what that cost now. Never mind the other misdemeanors I had on my record. Starting a fire at school. Stealing Coach Rhinehart’s golf cart. Trespassing in the Mairmont County Museum...
Enough to make me a public nuisance.
Suddenly, with a startled caw, the murder of crows sitting in the oak tree took flight at the same time. They scared Officer Saget, who cursed and ducked as they swooped in and broke out into the night sky. Then I saw Ben try to grab for my wrist, but his hand passed through it. He looked momentarily annoyed.
“Hurry!” he hissed.
He didn’t have to tellmetwice. I turned on my heels and leapt into a sprint toward the back of the cemetery, cutting around tombstones and fake flowers propped up against plaques, and headed for the back corner. It got darker the farther we ran, and a little sliver of wall had fallen down behind the old oak there—
I slipped through the crumbled wall and broke out onto Crescent Avenue, and hopped through a few backyards until I returned to the cross street with the inn. I didn’t stop to catch my breath until I was inside the wrought iron gates and halfway down the path to the front door.
“I’ve never been so close to getting caught!” I clutched my sides as I dissolved into peals of laughter. “Did you startle the crows?”
“I would never,” he replied indignantly, folding his arms over his chest.
I could’ve kissed him. “Thank you.”
The tips of his ears burned red and he looked away. “You’re welcome.”
Trying to hide a grin, I wandered up the cobblestone path to the front door when I paused on the porch steps where we began, and glanced back at Ben. “I’m sorry,” I said, “that I lied to you about getting caught in the cemetery.”
“Well—at least now I know,” he replied, and shook his head. “I’m going to—I don’t know. Go see if I can haunt the diner or something. Smell some coffee. Question,” he added as an afterthought.
“Answer,” I replied.
“Is it normal to hear things? Chattering—voices—barely? Like they’re just out of earshot?”
I frowned. “Not that I know of, but I never asked.”
“Huh. Okay, well, good night. Try not to get into too much trouble,” he added, and left down the sidewalk toward the Waffle House. I stood on the porch of the bed-and-breakfast for a while, watching as his transparent form slowly melted into the darkness and was gone.
I already had one dead person to mourn. Common sense told me that I shouldn’t get involved with Ben, that my heart couldn’t take another goodbye so soon, but I think I’d already decided to help him. I wasn’t sure when I decided—yesterday? When he first showed up at the front door?
I was foolish, and I was only going to hurt myself, because if I knew anything about death, the goodbyes were harder with ghosts than corpses.
16