Page 10 of After Life
Kelly folded in on himself and Marilla rolled her eyes as Ray-Don shot them a glare. “Order up,” Delia chirped through gritted teeth. “Ray-Don, a word?”
“Ain’t got time for that, Delia. Gotta do a run out to the site before the storm hits.” He nodded at us, adding, “If you see Sandra before I do, let her know I’ll be by to help batten down the place before dark-thirty.”
“It’s just a watch,” she said, throwing up her hands. Marilla and Kelly exchanged looks and started easing toward the door.
“Hey! You got ten minutes to get to the boat,” Ray-Don snapped. “We don’t got a lot of time to finish before the storm moves everything around.”
“Ray-Don!” Kelly erupted excitedly. “Do you know who we got in town? Those guys from Bump in the Night! Well, most of ‘em anyway!” He was practically vibrating as he pointed at us. Oscar gave a weak wave and I offered a brisk nod. “Maybe they’ll talk to—”
“Ten minutes,” Ray-Don interjected. “Get your butts in gear, you two.”
Kelly groaned. “Imma find y’all later,” he promised. “Come on, Marilla.”
“Ugh,” Marilla groaned, rattling her cup again as she and Kelly slunk out of the café, Kelly shooting Oscar one last, hopeful glance.
Delia shot a look our way. “Your food’ll be out in a sec. Apologies for the”—she glanced at Ray-Don— “theatrics.”
Ray-Don rolled his eyes skyward as Delia swanned back into the kitchen. “He right, though?” he asked as soon as the door closed behind her again. “You here to talk to some, er, ghosts?”
“We’re here on vacation,” I said firmly. “Oscar’s not holding any séances this week.”
If I could’ve been flayed alive by the power of a look, Oscar would’ve accomplished it in that moment. “Julian.” His tone was quelling. My face heated under the glare he shot me before he turned back to Ray-Don. “Is there someone you’re looking for, Ray-Don? Or maybe someone you hope is looking for you?”
Ray-Don shook his head as Delia emerged from the kitchen with a tray holding our food. “Just curious is all. You talk to ‘em, huh? All the time?”
Oscar fell into a very basic, somewhat stilted conversation with Ray-Don as Delia deposited our plates and drinks, then the three of them got into a discussion of the island’s alleged hauntings. “It’s not much,” Delia protested. “I mean, you can’t swing a cat in the South without hitting some long-dead lady in white or a grunch or something, but we’re a bit proud of our local legends.”
Ray-Don made a choked, growly noise and shook his head once at her. A shut up damn it gesture, if I ever saw one.
“Julian booked our stay here,” Oscar said, barely glancing at me. “He didn’t mention any local hauntings to me.”
“I wasn’t particularly looking for any when I planned the trip,” I muttered. “Since we’re on vacation.”
Delia’s expression flickered between prurient interest and awkward embarrassment. “Oh! Vacation! Well, have you checked out these?” She rushed to the rack near the door and grabbed a handful of brochures. “Virginia’s Path goes ‘round this half of the island and has a few sites of historical interest along it. Oh! And there’s the Rosie Sands Historical Museum,” she added another to the stack. “It’s in the old Noonan House—they were Ray-Don’s people, but his great-grandmother married a Jennings, so she didn’t get house—and it’s got a surprising amount of artifacts and local history. Some of the rooms are done up like back in the day, too.”
Ray-Don grunted. “My mom’s people were Noonans,” he repeated. “One of the families that founded Broken Palm.”
Delia and Ray-Don fixed us both with an expectant look, like we were supposed to know the significance of that. So I nodded and made interested noises, unable to stop myself from shooting a worried glance at Oscar. He smiled and flipped open one of the brochures, ignoring me entirely. “No ghost tours then?”
Delia and Ray-Don exchanged another look. “Ah, no. Just the legends.”
“Such as?” Oscar asked, flashing them both one of his infamous charming smiles. “I’m sure you can glean that I’m a bit of an enthusiast when it comes to this sort of thing.”
“Oh. Well. Ah, there’s Virginia,” Delia offered, gesturing weakly toward the café door. “People have reported seeing her ghost on the walk there. She—”
“Was lost at sea,” Ray-Don supplied. Oscar’s eye twitched and his lips tightened at Ray-Don’s lie, but he kept his smile firmly in place. Ray-Don took that as his cue to continue. “Yeah, she was on the old ferry that ran between here and the mainland. Drowned when it sank midway.”
Oscar’s smile was so tight, it must’ve hurt. “How tragic. And she haunts the path there. Who else?”
Delia cleared her throat, folding her hands across her middle like she was trying to protect herself when she replied. “Well, some folks say Jeremiah Tibbins himself haunts Honey Walk. Isn’t that where you’re staying?”
I nodded. “Sandra Cochrane’s been very accommodating,” I fibbed.
Ray-Don grunted. “She’s real... enthusiastic about the history here.”
Delia’s smile was so big it was scary. “I bet she’d have all sorts of things to tell y’all. So do the ghosts you talk to... do they ever, like... tell you things?”
Oscar’s attention narrowed to laser-like intensity. Even I sat up a bit more at that. “Like what?” I asked. “He speaks with them so obviously they’re talking to him.”
