Nearly Departed, Max Schlienger [the gingerbread man read aloud txt] 📗

was hardly the reason for this so-called date. He took a feigned sip of his wine. “Well, I for one think that it’s a shame that your father is so overprotective. You’re a very capable young woman, and he really should recognize that.”

“He does, though,” said Evy. “It’s what makes it all so frustrating. If he trusts me with everything else, he should trust me with men like you.” She winked and giggled, biting her lower lip seductively.

“Well, it would certainly make things easier,” Dennis replied, not entirely certain what he was agreeing with. Another few seconds of silence passed, with Evy acting coquettish and Dennis trying to determine what his next move would be. Other than learning that her father didn’t approve of her dating techniques – which was hardly surprising – Dennis hadn’t found anything that would begin to help with Evy’s exorcism.

“Do you see a lot of men?” he asked, grasping at straws. Evy giggled again and wiggled her nose playfully.

“Oh, Dennis, dear... Are you jealous?” She laughed out loud, throwing her head back in delight. “Well, I suppose it’s fair to say that I have seen a fair number of men, but they all seem to blend together. None of them were nearly as interesting as you are.”

“Thank you.” Something was amiss, and for once, Dennis had a fair idea about what it was: At the time of her death, Evy had been seventeen years old, and under the care of what she had described as an overprotective father. Maybe it was completely off-base, but he suspected that the men Evy was referencing might actually have been the host of paranormal investigators and psychics that had met with her over the past eight years. “What makes me stand out, if it’s not too weird of me to ask?”

“I’d say it’s your choice in conversation.” Evy smiled seductively and twirled a wisp of spectral hair. “I can scarcely remember what any of them had to say.”

“They were probably too eager to talk about themselves,” suggested Dennis. “Instead of asking about you.”

A raised eyebrow and slightly pursed lips gave Evy the appearance of a glamor model, and the hinted comment seemed to work. “Is there something you’d like to ask me, Dennis?”

“Many things,” Dennis answered, completely honestly. “Some more appropriate than others.” He forced his face into a suggestive smile. “Why don’t you tell me a secret? The first thing that comes to your mind.”

Evy tapped the tip of her nose with a finger. “Will you tell me one?”

“After you do. I asked first.”

“Oh, fine,” the ghost laughed. “It’s not really about me, though, and it’s hardly exciting.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Dennis said, scooting forward on his chair.

“Well,” Evy began, “refresh my memory. How much have I told you about my father?”

“Only that he’s overprotective,” replied Dennis. He thought back to some of the details that Elspeth had mentioned. “Also, that he’s away from home a lot on commissions or something. He’s an artist.”

“Yes, that is what he tells people,” Evy said. “It’s not strictly accurate, though.”

Again, this might prove to be interesting, but Dennis didn’t see how it applied to Evy’s current situation. “What does he do, then?” he asked.

“He calls it work.” Evy’s eyes grew wider, as though she was attempting to broadcast excitement into Dennis’ mind. “Really, though, he goes out and swindles rich people.”

“What?” Dennis stammered, caught completely off-guard. “How?” His reaction brought a titter of satisfaction from Evy.

“He and his partner set up these... schemes, they call them, where they get people to invest enormous sums of money in things. Then they claim that the venture has gone under, and they repay a bit to the investors.” Evy propped her head on one hand and gazed across at Dennis. “It sounds frightfully exciting, but really, it’s quite dull. Still, you musn’t tell mother about it.”

“Wait, let me make sure I have this right,” Dennis said, doing his best to sound amused. “Your father... is a con artist?”

“Terribly boorish, isn’t it?” said Evy with an affected yawn. “It only ever leads to arguing, after all.”

Dennis was still reeling, but the comment reminded him of his last conversation with the ghost, just before Bobo’s failed attempt at turning her chair into a bonfire. “Arguing like they did ‘yesterday,’ you mean?”

Evy frowned, but answered nonetheless. “Yes, that would be a prime example. I told you about that?”

Dennis nodded with what he hoped was a casual attitude, which was not easy with the levels of confusion and excitement he was experiencing. “You said that people were arguing about something silly, and that it was related to your father’s work. Of course, that was before you told me what your father’s work was.”

“It really was quite silly. I expect they’ll be in good sorts when they come back.” Evy stretched gracefully and pointed a slender finger over Dennis’ shoulder. “Don’t let me stop you if you’d like to order dessert this time, Dennis.” He turned and caught sight of Bobo striding back into the room.

“Are you ready for –”

“Dessert, yes,” Dennis interrupted. “I mean, no. No dessert. Not yet.” He glanced back at Evy. “Actually, could you show me the way to the restroom?”

“Certainly, sir,” replied Bobo. “It’s just down the hall to your left.”

“I’d really feel better if you showed me,” said Dennis, arching his eyebrows.

“Really, sir, it’s... Oh, right,” Bobo said, understanding. “If you’ll just follow me, then.”

“I’ll only be a minute, Evy.” Dennis stood and followed Bobo out of the room, resisting the urge to look back at the ghost. As soon as they were out of earshot, or at least what Dennis presumed to be so, he began speaking again in a low voice.

“Bobo, listen,” whispered Dennis, grabbing the bigger man’s arm. “I don’t know how long we have before she starts forgetting me, so I don’t have time to explain this, but go and ask Elspeth if she knows anything about her father’s partner.”

“What, daddy Palin was a poof?” Bobo asked