He laughed, enjoying the hell out of himself. “Mostly. However, I do have other responsibilities.”
“You’re saying that I’m just one of many lucky targets.”
“I do stay busy.”
I kept staring him down, but it was hard when those sparkling light brown eyes were getting to me. The true Dean could always flip my stomach with a look and a cocky grin, just like this one.
And if he kept looking at me like that, I was going to forget he wasn’t my Dean.
I dragged my gaze off him, giving up. “What do you want from me? Just tell me once and for all.”
“Maybe we should couch this in different terms. If you could ask anything of me, what would it be?”
His switchback left me confused.
He continued. “I know what you’re up to with Elizabeth Dalton. You’re trying to solve a murder that isn’t your own, and that’s not normal ghost behavior, darlin’. Your kind is usually more self-involved.”
Chills flew up my spine. He hadn’t missed anything that had been going on with me, and it was like I’d been standing in front of a window at night, never realizing that there was someone outside watching every move I made. But, sick pup that I am, I was kind of turned on by that, because it was Dean. Or the closest I’d ever come to him again.
My voice sounded thick. “I suppose you’re going to help me solve Elizabeth’s murder because you’re impressed with my gumption or something. Is that why you’re hounding me?”
Sarcasm was still dripping from my words when he took a step closer.
“You’re different, and different makes my existence just as interesting as it makes any creature’s. That doesn’t mean I’m going to solve her murder—or yours—for you, though.”
“So why did you ask what I wanted from you?”
“I was truly curious to see if you’d request a solution to her murder or yours first.”
Bastard. “Gee, did I pass your test? If those are the kinds of traps you set up for your lucky targets, then you must be really bored in whatever land you come from.”
His face lost its amusement, and I knew I’d hit a target. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to verbally go at it with this thing like I was doing.
Then he tilted his head again. “Is it out of the realm of possibility that I might be a helpful kind of entity and I’m only giving you a hard time before getting down to business?”
That sounded ominous, so I zipped my lip.
Then he seemed to consider something and changed his tone, sounding like he was actually a rational being.
“It’s too bad that even my powers are limited. If I could’ve, I would’ve put you in contact with Elizabeth so you can ask her what really happened.”
“And what would be the cost of that?”
He only smiled, but it was a smile that mixed me up even more. It seemed sincere.
Was he experiencing an emotion other than amusement right now?
His tone softened. “Next time you see Amanda Lee, you might want to tell her that Elizabeth moved on immediately after her death.”
It took me a second to process that he’d just come right out and given me a huge piece of information without my having to sell my soul to him or anything. I’d been half fearing that this was the reason he kept stalking me and he was merely getting around to it in his own time.
Why had he just said this, though?
He took another step closer, and I could smell Dean again—soap, sea salt, skin. Oh, man.
He added, “Elizabeth is in the same place your parents are. Does that make you feel better?”
That’s when I welled up, my throat burning.
“Where are they?” I managed to ask.
He laughed gently. “That’s been your question of the day, hasn’t it? But I can’t tell you any more than you’ve learned. Not even I know what’s beyond us, because once you go there, you don’t come back. It might be heaven or hell, nirvana, or even a parallel dimension where everyone gets another chance in a reincarnated life.”
“You don’t even know?”
“No.”
I had the feeling he was lying to me, just as he might’ve been when he’d so “earnestly” told me about Elizabeth moving on. But I wanted to hear about my parents and decide for myself if he was telling the truth. I wasn’t about to sass him again.
“My mom and dad are happy?” I asked.
“Yeah, Jenny, wherever they are, I can guarantee it. I know a guy who knows a guy who knows that good people move on and get their just reward, like humans have always hoped.”
Now that I had a body, I was able to tear up, and my vision went bleary. Fake Dean became a watery blob of white T-shirt and blond hair. I didn’t want him to see me crying, though, and I turned away.
He was right behind me now. “Hey, I didn’t think that would make you weepy. That’s good news, isn’t it?”
I nodded, speechless, my throat scratched so thoroughly that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to talk again.
I could hear him breathing right behind me, and goose bumps covered my skin. If he put his hand on my shoulder, I might break apart. If he took one more step toward me, I might crumble.
Finally, I swallowed enough so that my throat was better. “Why’re you telling me these things?”
“Because you’ve wondered, and I just want to see you happy.” He blew out a breath. “Most of all, though, I don’t like to see you sad.”
I looked up and cuffed a rogue tear away from my cheek. Once, when real Dean and I had fought about something stupid—I couldn’t even remember what it was—he’d said those exact words to me.
This Dean’s words swayed me more than I would’ve liked.
He must’ve seen that in me, because he was more forthcoming now, like I’d let down my guard a little more than I should have and that’s what he’d been hoping for.
“And here’s more to keep you from being sad,” he said. “Just because Elizabeth Dalton was murdered, that doesn’t mean she had to stick around and haunt this plane. Not every spirit lingers or falls into a time loop. Sometimes there’s so much anguish connected to their deaths or the people they leave behind that they can’t stand the aftermath. Some spirits seek the light right away. Others go your route and fall into a numb imprint.”
I held my breath. Was he about to tell me something to do with my death?
When he put his hand on my shoulder, I didn’t shrug him off. He was so warm. Not even Gavin’s life force or a fire could match the glow this entity put in me. And, honestly, I sank into his touch ever so slightly, missing it so bad. Just wanting to relive Dean for a few more minutes.
His voice was low and quiet now. “You’re wondering about the night you died.”
I couldn’t even swallow because of the lump in my throat, so I only clipped out a nod.
“You don’t want to know,” he said. “And that’s because you’re not prepared to know. I’m not going to tell you, either, because I’ll be damned if I send you back into a loop with the shock of the details at this point.”
I found my voice. “I already saw the ax, the mask.”
When I shut the images right out of my mind, I guess that only proved his point, because his fingers bunched on my shoulder, massaging me, getting a better grip on me.
My gut wrenched, twisted, but in a way that heated me up even more.
I even forgot he wasn’t really my Dean, because sweet gestures like this had defined my old boyfriend. He would slide his hand over to cover my collarbone, moving his fingers gently, making me go weak, knowing that it would distract me from whatever issue was dogging me that day.
“If you won’t tell me about my murder,” I said, breathless, “then tell me about the Edgetts.”
His voice eased through me, all vibration and warmth. “You mean that Gavin guy?”