A Wild Ghost Chase by E.J. Copperman Read Free Book Online Page A

she asked as she loaded up Alison’s refrigerator with home-cooked food she’d brought over in the backpack she carries (Alison teases her that it makes her look like a student, but Loretta’s contention is that the backpack is extremely useful and keeps her hands free).
    “I have no idea,” I told her. “I think our best bet is to contact the spirit of the woman I found in the library yesterday, but I need to be able to speak Unami in order to communicate. At least I assume so—for all I know, she was speaking Navajo.”
    “So naturally you called me in,” Loretta said, closing the refrigerator with a satisfied smile on her face.
    Maxie, who was hovering by the ceiling fan and letting the blades rotate through her midsection (“It sort of tickles”), grinned. She adores Loretta. “The first thing a man always thinks of is to get a woman to help,” she suggested.
    Disregarding the feminist issue she was trying to raise, I turned my attention to Loretta. “I do think you can help, if you’d like,” I told her. “Normally, I would ask Alison to be my legs on this one, but I don’t think that would be a good idea at the moment.”
    Loretta shook her head violently, but smiled. “No. She’s got a lot on her plate right now,” she agreed. “Let’s not complicate matters. What would you like me to do, Paul?”
    I outlined my plan for her benefit, beginning with a visit to the local police station, and admitted it was not terribly detailed. “While you’re out there doing what you can do, and if you can make some phone calls”—we ghosts are not audible on telephones—“I will do my best to locate someone who can speak the necessary language, and I’ll also try to find the woman who was here before, since without her, it doesn’t matter if I have a translator. Do you think you can help?”
    Loretta looked determined, as she always does. “I can try,” she said.
    “Try what?” Alison appeared in the kitchen door. “What are you doing here, Mom?”
    “I came by to stock you up on real food,” Loretta informed her. That part was technically true. “You can’t order in
every
night.” Normally, Loretta would never criticize Alison on virtually any subject, but she does seem somehow insulted that her daughter never cooks; perhaps Loretta considers it the sign of a failure on her part to teach Alison properly.
    “I really can, but I agree I shouldn’t,” Alison admitted. “But I’m going to be hip-deep in grout for the rest of the afternoon. Thanks for bringing food.” She went to the refrigerator and opened the door. “Oh boy, brisket.”
    “Among other things,” Loretta pointed out. “You need to feed my granddaughter something other than pizza and Chinese takeout.”
    “I get it, I get it,” Alison said. “I surrender. So, what were you talking about when I came in?”
    “Paul was asking me to ask a friend of mine—someone like him—a question the next time I see him, and I said I would.” That
wasn’t
technically true, but it was plausible, and Alison nodded.
    “What friend?”
    “His name is Larry,” Loretta answered. “You don’t know him.”
    Alison looked at me. “What do you need to know from Larry?” she asked.
    Before I could stammer and give away the deception, Maxie insinuated herself between Alison and myself. “Aren’t you going to give in on this sleepover for Melissa?” she interjected. “The poor girl never gets to have any friends over.”
    “What are you, her agent?” Alison asked. I gave Maxie a grateful look for distracting Alison from her previous train of thought. “She’ll have a sleepover when I can handle it. And keep in mind, most of the reason I’m not crazy about the idea is because of you.”
    “
Me?
” Maxie fired back. “What did
I
do?’
    “Half the time I’m not even sure,” Alison told her. “That’s one of the things that keeps me up at night.”
    Maxie was preparing to perpetuate the argument, less to give me cover than