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“she sold me the shop, and I’ve never had call to leave.”

“So, where did this whole Draadtrekker thing come from?” Dennis asked. Bobo let out a short chuckle.

“It means ‘wanker,’” he explained. “I thought it’d be funny. See, when I had my interview here, the lady thought I was putting on a show with my English accent.” His head slumped between his shoulders, but his face stayed lit by his grin. “She told me that I was safe to be myself. She really meant that she thought I was someone else.”

Dennis nodded knowingly. “Hence the act.”

“Bloody ironic, that,” replied Bobo, straightening. “But it stuck, and I had all sorts of business from people what thought they were dealing with some sort of shaman. Amazing what a wig and a poncho can do.” He regarded Dennis thoughtfully. “I hope you realize I could still call the police.”

“We both know that you won’t,” said Dennis. He looked towards the ceiling and let out a long breath.

“Yeah? Why’s that, then?”

Dennis looked back at the man. “Because we’re both frauds, and now we’ve both done something real by accident.”

“Real? What are you on about?”

Dennis eyed Bobo incredulously. “The rock? The magic stone vibrator?”

Bobo stared at Dennis in disbelief. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” He reached into his pocket and produced the stone. His big hands fumbled with it, hiding his actions from view. When they parted, Dennis found himself looking at two halves, and the metal seam that had been holding them together.

“See? It’s a bloody fake,” said Bobo. He placed the two pieces on the table. “It’s on a timer. Goes off every eight hours.” Sure enough, there was a small battery inside one of the two stone halves, as well as a miniature circuit board and what looked like a tiny motor.

Dennis reached out and gingerly took one of the pieces. “This seems like it would be bad for business,” he said. He received an affirmative grunt in reply.

“It’s the first of its kind. I wanted to try it out. Guess I won’t be doing that again, seeing the results I got.” Bobo drained the rest of his drink before continuing. “Of course, how was I to know it’d put you in a tizzy?”

“It wasn’t the rock that set me off.” Dennis lifted the other stone half and held it against its twin. He could see now where the seam blended into the carvings, making the entire thing look like a solid piece. “You made this?” he asked, impressed.

Bobo’s pride was evident. “Dad was an electrician. Guess I have the genetics for it.” He aimed a finger at the carvings. “The real bugger was making the rock, actually. Took me forever to get it right.” He looked up at Dennis again, suddenly appearing suspicious. “Hang on. You said the rock didn’t set you off. What did, then?”

Dennis coughed, cleared his throat, and sniffed in rapid succession, and then chewed on the corner of his lower lip. Bobo watched the act with an unchanging expression.

“Okay, look, this is going to sound crazy,” Dennis began, unsure of how to proceed.

“A real ghost, yeah?” Bobo smiled knowingly. “Come on, after that bit, the genuine article can’t be too bad.”

“Well, that is the genuine article,” replied Dennis. Bobo’s smile stayed frozen on his face, but the warmth left it. “I know it sounds nuts, but I just had a close encounter.”

“Are you saying you was abducted?”

“Different sort of encounter,” Dennis said, shaking his head. “There’s this lady who lives in Marin. She’s British too, actually.”

“Because everyone knows only Brits have ghosts,” Bobo stated. Dennis eyed him, unsure if the man was joking or not. He decided to continue as though he hadn’t heard anything.

“Anyway, she has this sister. A dead sister. And this dead sister haunts a chair.”

Bobo’s smile had diminished considerably, and his eyes roamed Dennis’ face. After a moment, his amusement returned in full force, and the man spoke through a guffaw.

“You’re putting me on!” he said. “Come on, September, you expect me to swallow that tripe?”

“I sure didn’t,” Dennis muttered, recalling his fainting episode. “Your stupid rock went off right when she showed up, so I came to the natural conclusion.”

“That someone was having a laugh at you?” Bobo asked. “Yeah, I’m familiar with the feeling.”

Dennis felt his ire rising. “Look, I’m telling the truth.” He tossed the pieces of the stone onto the table. They clattered together before one of them bounced off onto the floor. “I’ve been pretending to be a paranormal investigator for months, and I haven’t seen anything to make me believe in ghosts.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Not before today, anyway.”

Bobo had gone back to holding an uncertain expression. “Are you drunk?” he asked again.

“Do I seem drunk?” Dennis shot back.

“Well, as I mentioned, you smell a bit like it.”

“Elspeth gave me some gin after I passed out.” He interrupted Bobo as the man was preparing to speak again. “Yes, I passed out after seeing a ghost. So sue me.”

“Who’s that?”

Dennis blinked. “Elspeth Palin? The lady with the spectral sister?”

“What? You never told me her name,” Bobo pointed out. “I’m not psychic, you know.” He started pushing the remaining half of the stone around on the table, making a surprisingly loud scratching noise on the plastic surface.

“Her name is Elspeth. Her sister’s name is Evelyn, but she goes by Evy.”

“That’s the dead one,” Bobo said, not looking up. Dennis nodded.

“She’s paying me to get rid of her. Elspeth is paying me, I mean,” he added. “A thousand dollars a week.”

The stone slipped out from beneath Bobo’s finger and shot off the table. Dennis watched it slide across the faux-tile floor and disappear under a row of standing cabinets. When he looked back, he was met by Bobo’s intense and disbelieving gaze.

“Bollocks,” Bobo said.

“No, it’s true.” Dennis pulled the folded check from his pocket, and displayed the writing on its surface. Bobo leaned forward with an appraising look, and Dennis could see him counting the zeros. After

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