I still had work to do, so after Marner left I trudged inside my coral Victorian and into my home office. Spinning my chair in circles, I took in my idea boards, my inspirational art, my charcoal velvet drapes. I needed to concentrate, but I felt aimless. I needed to talk to Ryan and see what the story was. Someone was lying to me, and I had a sinking, horrible feeling it was Ryan.

Why wasn’t a ghost around when you needed one? So annoying.

Forcing myself to make a few phone calls, checking in on Alyssa and Jane at the Jensen project, and ordering some furniture online, I remembered what Ryan had said. I could call him. It had worked when he was standing next to me. Maybe it wouldn’t now, but it was worth a shot.

I swiped my screen and found his name. I called and held my breath, waiting for the ring. It worked, even though his phone had been turned off.

After three rings, he answered. “Yo, Bailey, what’s up?”

Relief and anger rushed through me simultaneously. “I need to talk to you.”

“Well, you called me. So talk.”

“Can you get down here?” Or over here. Or whatever we were supposed to call it.

“I’m kind of busy right now. I have exams coming up and they’re giving me crap that if I don’t pass I can’t move on to the next level.” His voice was low, like he didn’t want to be overheard.

“I thought once we solve your murder you’re supposed to be able to move on.” I stared at my screen saver until my eyes blurred. I didn’t know what to think anymore.

“I guess I have to pass the classes too.”

That made me frown. “You lied to me,” I said. “Marner said there were drugs in your system at the time of your death.”

The silence was so long I knew it was the truth. “They were from a doctor. I had residual pain from the stupid knee surgery. What difference does that make?”

I closed my eyes and tried to center my thoughts. Swallowing, I opened them again, determined to get this conversation over with. “Because it was way higher than any acceptable limit. Plus you were taking anti-depressants. Which is fine if you had a prescription from your doctor. But you can’t tell me with any certainty that you didn’t actually pull that trigger. You must have been high as a freaking kite.” I felt betrayed and I wasn’t even sure why.

Guilt was there too. That Ryan had been struggling with both depression and pain and an addiction to painkillers, and I hadn’t known. He had been battling his demons silently, with a cocky smile.

“I know what I know and I didn’t do it. It doesn’t matter that I was popping pills. It’s not like I was buying them off the street, and frankly, it’s none of your business.”

“So you weren’t buying them off the prostitute you were seeing?”

He got defensive. “And that’s really none of your business. That’s my personal life. I don’t need your judgy bullshit. Just because you’re wound so tight your ass squeaks doesn’t mean that you have the right to criticize someone else. Hannah is a decent person who has turned her life around.”

I was so stunned I didn’t know what to say. For a second I just sat there, stiff, fighting off the urge to cry. Finally, I spoke softly, as calmly as I could. “I’ve never judged you. That’s not what any of this is about. I’m trying to figure out what the hell really happened that day, because that’s what you asked me to do. That’s all.”

But it was also about the realization that I’d never had Ryan and I never would. His heart had never opened to me the way I wanted. He liked me. He cared about me. But he could never love me—I just wasn’t his type. He didn’t like squeaky asses.

Ryan swore under his breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a dick.”

Actually, he had, and I wasn’t sure why. What sore spot had I touched? Maybe he loved Hannah the Hooker. Maybe Hannah was a lovely person. That wasn’t the point. What was relevant was he had me running around poking my nose into police business and all of it might be completely unnecessary.

“I only mentioned her because I thought maybe she was supplying you with painkillers. But okay, fine, you don’t want to talk about it, that’s cool. I have work to do,” I said. “And I’m upset with you right now and I don’t like feeling this way about my dead friend so I’m going to have to go.”

“I get it.”

That was it. He wasn’t going to explain anything.

I didn’t want to ask about Hannah but I couldn’t stop myself because I’m a glutton for punishment. “Do you love her?” I asked softly. “Maybe you should have appeared to her instead.”

“No, I don’t love her, though I might have eventually.”

There went the knife, twisting into my heart.

“I don’t know how it would have played out. But I came to you, Bai, because you always have my back. That’s everything.”

His response brought the tears that I’d been holding at bay rolling down my cheeks.

That meant more than he would ever know, because I wasn’t going to tell him. “Yeah. I do. But don’t call me Bai. You sound like a teenager.” It was a source of contention between us that had grown into a joke. He used the nickname because he knew I hated it.

“Bye, Bai. I’ll catch you later.”

The call ended and I stared at my phone. I went into my call log and saw there was no record of Ryan and I talking.

It made me want to lift my e-cigarette to my mouth and suck on it like a catfish with algae. Fighting through it, I stood up and went to the kitchen for some cheese and crackers. At least my appetite seemed to be returning.

Maybe my squeaky ass would fill out (clearly I would not be over that particular remark anytime soon) and everyone would be happy.

My appetite had actually returned with a vengeance. On Saturday I kept my promise to Alyssa to hang out, but we skipped the movie. I ate my way through the day as we wandered around Ohio City poking in shops.

“I feel like I’m making up for six months of not eating,” I said. We had started the afternoon out at the West Side Market, a huge hundred-year-old indoor market with stalls selling every kind of food you can imagine. I had eaten a crepe and then an hour later a meat pastie. After hopping one neighborhood over to Tremont to shop the boutiques, we got goat cheese guacamole for a snack. Because, well, goat cheese guacamole.

Now after a tapas dinner, we were packing it away at Mitchell’s, a locally made ice cream served up in a shop that was formerly a vaudeville theater. I had an amazingly creamy Tin Roof sundae with Spanish nuts on it. It was heaven in a dish. Despite being full, there was no stopping me now.

“I think you needed a high-calorie day.” Alyssa had a cone and she delicately licked it.

Alyssa and I had met in calculus class in high school, and she was basically my complete opposite in every way, right down to her platinum hair against my auburn (okay, so in adulthood it was more like brown with hints of red). Alyssa was easygoing, casual. If she dropped ice cream on her pants she would just shrug. But we had bonded over music and our love of pretty things. Her personal style had a more modern meets retro flare, whereas I was classic and tailored. Today she was wearing a vibrant print sundress and very large, very yellow earrings.

Shockeroo, I was wearing simple black pants and a white shirt. It was the handbag and shoes that made an outfit in my book.

“Yeah, but I have a food baby.” I rubbed my now-round belly and groaned a little. “Everything in moderation is clearly not my motto.”

Alyssa, who had voluptuous curves, and rocked them, shrugged. “Who cares? Sometimes you need to go with your gut. Literally.”

All day I had been debating telling her about Ryan. It didn’t feel right though. It would cause tension while she debated my sanity.

“I know, but I’m probably going to be up all night with heartburn.”

Alyssa glanced behind me and nodded a little in the direction she was looking. “Some guy is coming over, by the way. He’s super hot. Like, I’m going to lick this cone and pretend it’s him.”

That was hot. I turned to catch a glimpse of this panty-dropping paragon and was startled to see Marner, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, his biceps on full display. He had a new tattoo on his forearm I hadn’t known about—a Celtic cross. Which was weird, given that he was Italian. I could see how Alyssa would think he was good-looking. He looked imposing. Confident.

“Hey, Bailey.” He pulled a free chair out and sat down next to me. “How are you?”

I gave him a genuine smile. “I’m fine.” I was, surprisingly. “This is my friend Alyssa.” I turned to her. “This is Ryan’s old partner, Marner.”

“Nice to meet you.” Alyssa was practically drooling. She flicked her tongue suggestively over her scoop.

Okay, then. That was annoying, though I wasn’t sure why. Alyssa was entitled to think he was hot. And come to think of it, he was entitled to respond if he wanted to. But he didn’t seem to notice. He was inspecting my sundae.

“You put a nice dent in that. Good job.”

That made me roll my eyes. “Thanks, Dad.” But then I felt like a jerk, so I asked, “Are you here alone? Cruising for a scoop?”

“I’m actually heading next door for dinner. I happened to see you in the window and I just thought I’d say hi.”

“Hi.” I waved. He was an attractive guy. I had always known that, in theory, but Ryan had managed to out-charm him. Or maybe Ryan was just an attention hog. But after the other day, when Marner had held me yet again, I had a case of the warm fuzzies for him right now. So I smiled.

His dark eyes widened slightly. “So have you two eaten dinner? Why don’t you join us? My buddy Nick won’t mind.”

“Is he single?” Alyssa asked. “Because Bailey needs to start dating.”

Really? I glared at my friend.

“Oh.” Marner looked taken aback. “Actually, he is. Want me to put in a word, Bailey?”

“No, I do not, but thanks though.” I felt my cheeks turning pink. “Alyssa doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I don’t need to be fixed up with strangers.”

His eyebrows rose. “How about with people you know?”

I had no idea what he meant by that. Fortunately, before I could get flustered any further, Alyssa spoke again. “We already ate about six times today, but we’d love to join you for a cocktail, Marner.”

“Call me Jake.”

Wait. What? She got to call him Jake after two minutes? I had known him for seven years. Years, people. He had never once told me to call him by his first name. Not that I would anyway, but I should have the option.

Alyssa beamed. “Great.”

If they started dating and got married and had children I was going to puke.

But when we stood up Marner pushed my hair out of my eye. “You look good,” he said. “Really good.”

A shiver went through my body from his unexpectedly gentle touch. For a split second I felt it actually reverberate through my lady parts, which shocked the hell out of me. Maybe I had gotten more than my appetite back. “Thanks. I feel pretty good.”

I did.

Nick turned out to be a fun guy, and the four of us passed a great hour just talking about sports and food and normal things. Not about murder or death or ghosts. Imagine that.

It also seemed that despite Alyssa’s initial thought to thrust me at Nick, an investment banker Marner knew from college, he was actually hitting it off with her. At one point they were leaning in to each other and laughing and Marner glanced over at me.

“I don’t think Nick’s joke was that funny,” he said. “But someone sure does.”

I sipped my iced tea. No wine for me this time. “Someone likes someone.”

The look Marner gave me made my heart rate kick up a notch.

“Yeah. Someone does like someone,” he murmured.

What the heck did that mean? Was he saying…

His finger came out and swiped at the corner of my mouth. He took the tip to his lips and sucked. “Sugar,” he explained.

I tried to laugh, but it was caught somewhere in the back of my throat along with the question that I was dying to ask. Was he hitting on me?

There was no way. Just no way. Way?

Marner winked at me and I wondered when exactly the whole world had gone mad.

But this change I actually kind of liked.