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

this,” he tried again. “You pick a topic for me. When it’s my turn, though, I get to pick one for you.”

Evy smiled coyly. “How am I as a date, Dennis?”

“Uh, fine,” Dennis replied. “I mean, you’re great. You’re really amazing.”

“Tell me about your last date.”

For a brief moment, Dennis was suspicious that Evy was playing a twisted sort of game with him. He dismissed the thought. If the ghost had remembered anything of their earlier conversation, he doubted that she would have waited until then to remark on it. After all, the only difference between the two dates, at least during the first half, had been Bobo’s absence from the later conversation.

That brought another thought to mind. Dennis turned to look over his shoulder, wondering as he did how the search for the photographs was faring. While he wouldn’t have any particular use for them at the moment, it would be nice to have them on-hand if the conversation took a turn towards its intended topic.

“Afraid of eavesdroppers, Dennis?” Evy asked flirtatiously.

“Oh, no, it’s not that.” He cleared his throat and continued speaking before Evy could say anything else. “My last date? Or my last really memorable date?”

“The really memorable one,” Evy answered, sitting back with an expectant smile.

“Okay.” Dennis paused. “But you have to tell me about anything I ask for afterward, right?”

“Mmhmm,” Evy thrummed, pulling her knees up to her chest. Not especially good table manners, Dennis mused.

“Okay, well,” he began, “this was about two years ago now, not long after I had moved back to San Francisco. I was really interested in this girl, and acting like a complete fool about it. I bribed her roommate to let me into their apartment, and I was busy arranging some flowers on her dining room table when she suddenly came home.” He smiled at the memory, even as he felt a quiet but insistent twinge of regret in his chest. “I didn’t have anywhere to hide, so I ducked behind her kitchen counter. She heard me, of course, and she called my name.”

“What did you do?” Evy asked. The look of eager interest on her translucent face was both satisfying and encouraging.

“You’ll never believe this,” laughed Dennis, “but I took off my shoe, put my sock on my hand, and gave her a puppet show.”

“You didn’t!” Evy squealed. “Oh, Dennis, that is priceless!” She laughed for a minute longer, and Dennis did his best to join in, but his heart felt a bit too heavy for it. It seemed unbelievable that he had gone from puppet shows in Alena’s kitchen to being kicked out of the house they shared. He knew that her life was a complicated ordeal at the moment, especially considering the accident her partner had been in, but the harshness of their last exchange was far too fresh to be easily ignored. He shook his head, concentrating on the task at hand.

“Now it’s your turn,” Dennis said. He made a big show of considering his question, despite being well aware of what he wanted to ask. “I know!” He snapped his fingers. “You told me that your father was a con artist, right?”

Evy’s eyes narrowed, but the expression seemed more tinged with confusion than suspicion. “Did I? Well, I can’t imagine why.”

“Yes, you did,” affirmed Dennis. “Let’s hear about that.”

Evy rolled her eyes in what Dennis hoped was only affected frustration, and tilted her head as she looked at him. “There isn’t much more to tell than that, dear.”

“That can’t be all of it,” Dennis said, a tad desperately. He was more than a little afraid of the thin ice upon which he was treading, fearful that it might collapse with one wrong word. “You didn’t tell me how you found out. Nobody else in your family ever did, right? Besides, my secrets are a lot more exciting.” If the veiled challenge didn’t do the trick, Dennis knew that he would be sunk. Thankfully, Evy seemed to respond to it, and she leaned forward again.

“Your last story hardly counts as a secret, dear.” She tapped her lip thoughtfully. “Still,” she said, her voice dropping into a hushed tone, “what if I told you that Father is having me help him with his latest scheme?”

“That’s more like it,” encouraged Dennis, although he was a long way from feeling relief. “What are you doing with him?” He shot a look over his shoulder, hoping that Bobo would return before too much longer. If, by some stroke of luck, this was going to be the moment that Evy opened up about the events surrounding her death, he wanted to have the pictures nearby.

“Dennis, really, there’s nobody spying on us, you needn’t be so jumpy,” Evy said reassuringly. Dennis managed to look back with a fair imitation of a charming grin.

“One can never be sure,” he replied, realizing as he did that he was quoting Elspeth’s favorite phrase. “You were saying?”

“Nothing, really.” The ghost gave a one-shouldered shrug. “All the real work is finished, and nobody is any the wiser. Father’s gone over to see his partner right now, in fact. The only thing I’m doing is keeping a key.”

Dennis’ heart leapt. That was it! That had to be it! Suddenly, he didn’t care about Bobo, Elspeth, or any pictures from an old envelope. It was obvious: Evy’s father had left her with a key, presumably to something pertaining to his scheme, and she had died while guarding it. Granted, there was still her odd obsession with the worn-out armchair, but that seemed irrelevant now. She was waiting for her father to reconcile an argument with his partner, after which she could return the key and be free to depart.

Dennis jumped up, bumping the table and knocking one of the wine-filled goblets over with a ruby splash. “Sorry, Evy,” he said hurriedly, “I need to –” he cut himself off and swallowed. “I’ll be right back.” He all but ran from the room, crashing headlong into Bobo as they