Page 87 of Ghost of a Chance
The psychic really didn’t help at all.She claimed that she sensed something in the book but couldn’t talk to it, and when Kirsty tried a repeat of yesterday, only the candles blew out again.
Disappointment hung around her like a heavy cloak as they walked back to her car.He wanted to cheer her up but had no idea what to do.“She’s not you.You’ve had a connection to the book since I brought it to the studio.I think…that the ghost is more comfortable with you.”
“Well, I don’t.We are no closer to figuring any of this out.I think we should just say it was a bust and move on.”
“A bust?The book is still here and still haunted.I can’t just move on from it,” Jasper said.After years of being haunted by this poltergeist, he was so close to freedom.He wasn’t going to back down now.
She put her head on the steering wheel.Her hands tightened, knuckles white against the leather, and she muttered under her breath.He reached over and patted her shoulder.“I know you can figure this out.”
“Thanks,” she said sitting up.
His phone pinged in his pocket.“Victor can meet us at the diner in thirty minutes.”
She put the car in gear without saying a word.He noticed she got quiet when she was turning things over in her mind.Which was fine with him.He had his own shit to contend with.
He wasn’t sure he was ready to see Victor again.Jasper had been a crap friend after Paul had died.
But truly, it had hurt too much to be around Victor.Around him, Jasper missed Paul more keenly.Felt his absence the most around Victor.So he’d walked away.Finishing his classes and then immediately taking the job with Bri’s show, moving to Chicago without a goodbye.
They entered the diner and Kirsty headed for the booth they’d sat in the night before.He followed her, sliding in across from her so he could see the door.
“I’m sorry I just can’t figure this out,” she said.“I feel like I’ve tried everything I can.”
“There might be something simple that’s been overlooked,” he said.“It’s not just down to you to figure out.Gia is tracking down the book.Victor will probably have some insight that I’ve missed.”
“I hope so,” she said.It was clear she was used to solving puzzles and this lack of progress was frustrating her.
The door opened again and Victor walked in.He was tall and slim; his hair was curly, springing around his head in an effortlessly cool style.Victor’s left hand was covered in rings.He wore a plaid coat and a scarf around his neck.
Paul’s old scarf.
Jasper stood up, hugging Victor as soon as he was within reach.Victor was stiff for a minute and then hugged him back.“What’s this about?”
“Paul,” he said.
“Finally got over yourself and decided to talk about him?”Victor said, glancing toward Kirsty and arching one eyebrow.
Guess he deserved that.“Kirsty, this is Victor, Victor—Kirsty,” he said, gesturing between the two of them.Victor sat down next to Kirsty and told Jasper he’d have a cappuccino.
He nodded and left the two of them to go and place the order.Their heads were already bent together as they were talking.The conversation flowed smoothly between the two of them from what he could tell.Jealousy shot through him, remembering his awkward attempts at reengaging Kirsty before Victor had arrived.
But Victor was like that.He always put everyone at ease or in their place.There was something so deep and honest about him.You didn’t mind when he pointed out you were being an ass because he did it in a gentle way.
Looking back on the years he’d spent ignoring Victor, Jasper regretted it.He also didn’t really feel great about getting back in touch just to ask him about Paul.He should have been a better friend.
The server at the counter said she’d bring their drinks and be over to take their food order shortly.When he got back to the table Kirsty glanced up at him.“Victor mentioned that Paul was working on a special project with you.”
He sat down harder than he meant to.“Yeah.We were trying to figure out some old notes my mom had found in a box in the attic.But once Paul died I stopped.He was the driving force behind it.It doesn’t matter.”
“What was the project?”
“My dad had some notes for that science fiction short story he’d been working on.The story revolved around offering people the chance to buy transference for themselves after their death.”
Victor looked back and forth between them.“What’s this about anyway?”
“Remember when I sent you the textbook?”
“Yeah.Not exactly what I was expecting from you after all those months of silence,” he said.
