“Well, the alternative was pretty awful, so there’s that.” Luis grimaced. “It’s grim work sometimes, and it’s sure not easy, but it’s worth it. We’re getting our happily ever after, so I’ll do whatever it takes.”
He would, too. He’d always been willing to work for his happiness with Donovan as long as there was hope. He had his concerns about working on a case together again, but they’d get through it. Like the alternative to recovery Donovan had mentioned, the other option was too awful to contemplate.
“So I’ve got to ask,” Donovan said after a few seconds. “Freetown State Forest has a reputation, right?”
“Place is full of ghosts.” Luis chuckled. He didn’t need to ask what Donovan was getting at. “Most of them were kind of static though. I guess the technical term is residual? They weren’t interacting with the modern living world at all. They were just kind of re-creating the past. It was kind of interesting to see that past, but not helpful. Some of them were a little more aware. One chased after the pickup truck the other day, when you first joined in. Or when we first joined in, depending on your point of view. Anyway, he chased after us for a while, yelling at us to ‘Get off his lawn.’ ”
“Wait, what?” Donovan burst out laughing. “You’re joking.”
“Nope. Angry old white guy sitting in an old lawn chair, drinking a beer. If it weren’t for the glow, and the fact that none of you could see him, I’d have thought he was alive. He chucked the beer at the truck, and another one appeared in his hand. If I have to be a ghost when I die, I aspire to that level of badassery.”
Donovan pulled onto the highway. “Luis, you don’t even drink.”
“I’ll throw something else then. Or I’ll start drinking ghost beers just so I can throw them at passersby.” Luis grinned. “I still feel like I’m lost at sea with all this ghost stuff, but I’m getting there.”
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