Page 16 of Hot Ghost Summer

“Jayne,” I greet. “Didn’t know you were there.”

She smiles, and it echoes in the deep wrinkles around her eyes. “Because I wasn’t. I finished with the birds, then went to check the wasp traps out in the yard, and noticed your bag and shoes under the trailer.”

She holds out a paper bag, and the rustle attracts Brigid’s attention. “It’s gone lunch, so I brought you both a snack.”

Brigid sways herself closer.

“Yes, yes. I know what you want. Patience.” Jayne hands her an oat biscuit, then offers the rest of the bag to me. “You shouldn’t be in here barefoot, you know?” Her hazel eyes land on the T-shirt I’m wearing. “You were right, before. You do need to keep your job because those T-shirts are fifteen pounds each, and unless we have a ghost looking after the shop, then you still need to pay for that.”

I inhale a biscuit crumb down the wrong pipe. Did she have to mention ghosts?

“Mhm, yep,” I splutter, then cough. “Yeah, I know. I will. I promise. I just needed a clean shirt after an… incident at work today.” With my best and most disarming smile, I aim a cheeky grin her way. “And as much as everyone loves t’ see me shirtless, the police get a little annoyed about it.”

Jayne stoops to pick up the bucket of water, then shoots me a look. “This incident the reason why you don’t know if you still have a job?”

With a mouth full of chewed biscuit, I dodge Brigid’s massive head as she tries to nose the bag out of my hand, and nod in the affirmative.

“Well, for what it’s worth, Theo, I think that would be their loss.” She picks up a broom and sets to sweeping the barn while Brigid and I share oat biscuits in the pen. “I know I can’t afford to pay you for it, but you’ve been the best employee I’ve ever had. No matter the weather, or if you’ve been unwell, you’ve always shown up. And that counts for a lot more than people realise in this day and age. Besides, animals speak for themselves.”

She pauses her sweeping long enough to glance between me and Brigid. “Not only that, but you’ve never met a challenge you couldn’t fix. Like when you built that floating feeder for the ducks out on the pond to stop the goats from eating their food.”

I chuckle at the memory of the look of consternation on Alvin’s face when he couldn’t figure out how to eat from the little boat that floated along the surface, safely out of reach.

Jayne comes to a stop and leans on her broom. “And when we consider your delightful personality, young man, I can’t see how anything that happened today could be that bad.”

Guilt flips my stomach, and I hand the bag of biscuits to Brigid, who eats the lot—bag and all.

Stepping from her pen, I quietly say, “Pretty sure my new colleague hates me. Probably wants me dead.”

I take the broom from Jayne and sweep a great pile of wet straw out of Brigid’s pen.

“Then I suggest you try very hard to think of a way to put that right.” With a small smile, Jayne leaves us alone again.

“How am I supposed t’ put any of this right, Bridge? It’s not like I can just put Hollis’s soul back inside his body, is it?”

Brigid snorts loudly, her tail swishing sharply.

Realistically, I know she’s disgruntled that she’s finished her biscuits, but… “No, Bridge. Don’t be silly. That only happens in films.”

She turns in a circle, presenting me her rear.

“I didn’t say you were silly. I said the idea was. I can’t just put Hollis’s soul back.”

Brigid scoops her snout under a stack of dried hay in the corner and scatters it over the freshly swept floor.

“Alright, alright. I’ll think about it.” As I sweep around her, and as she settles back into a comfortable position, an idea takes root in my mind.

It can’t exactly hurt to try, can it? In every film I’ve seen where it happens—where they return someone’s soul—they have a body and an item that was present at the time of death that might have stored the soul.

I have the ExorSquad work bag still, but that was on the ground floor the whole time.

Inside the bag, though, is the LPA Synchrotron.

Now all I need is Hollis’s body.

six

You Killed Me