out about doing something totally spur of the moment and most definitely not Nancy-approved, and Edison was so not bothered by what I’d just said that he’d not even stopped reading his book.
“Meet me downstairs in an hour then, and we’ll get this freak show on the road.” He didn’t even look up.
I stood there in the doorway, waiting for who-knows-what, and feeling like more and more of a dork with every second that passed.
“That’s sixty minutes,” Edison said, still refusing to get off the bed and properly acknowledge me.
Which I guessed was my cue to leave. So I did.
Chapter 10
PRECISELY ONE HOUR LATER, I FOUND MYSELF sitting on the Attesa’s black couch, bouncing my heels on the floor. Okay, it was more like fifty-one minutes later, but I was always the first one to arrive everywhere. My grandmother said it was one of my “better qualities” (for real). And, even though I knew it was a lame-ass habit, I couldn’t make myself act any other way. Even when I was dead, it seemed.
To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d thought the whole call-on-Ed-and-get-down-with-your-dark-side thing through, no matter how upset I’d been in the library. I mean, here I was, only three days off my mortal coil or whatever, and I’d managed to get myself stuck in limbo—if that’s what this was—the escaping of which relied heavily on me, Nancy, Lorna, and Tess solving my murder so I could get the hell out of here and move on to wherever came next. Which, with every day that passed, I was reeeally hoping involved unlimited PB and J sandwiches with the crusts off like Mom used to make (but I’d been too cool to take to school for at least, like, five years).
That considered, what was I doing? Not hanging around with the good ghosts, oh no. Instead I was asking the broody-potentially-evil guy to show me how to work against the system—just in case that meant I could maybe talk to my boyfriend again. David. The alive one. Who I was literally dead to now. And who seemed to have become a magnet for perky uniformed blondes. Hmmm …
“It doesn’t matter how hard you bite your lip, it won’t bleed.” I jumped. Ed was standing above me. How did the guy move so quietly? He was sneaky. Even for a ghost. “Sure you’re up for this?”
“Absolutely,” I said, trying to sound as sure as I totally didn’t feel.
“Then let’s get out of here. May I?” He held out his hand to pull me up. Like I was the kinda girl to fall for the chivalry act. I made a point of getting off the sofa without Edison’s help. Which would have made more of a point had I not nearly toppled off Mom’s heels in the process.
Ed smirked. “New, are they? Oh well, at least you have all of eternity to learn to walk in them.”
Asshole.
“Come on, let’s get out of here before Nancy Drew comes back and persuades you to do some map work or fingerprinting or whatever she has you guys doing in that ‘investigation’ room of hers.”
While anyone who wore as much black as Ed was far too cool to put finger quote marks around the word investigation , I could still hear them in his voice. Surprise, surprise, he wasn’t about to join the agency.
“Charlotte Feldman, get ready for a lesson you will never forget,” he said, making sure I’d had time to get steady and upright, before taking a step toward me.
Oh, hell … What was I doing? Edison was taller—and broader—than David, so he must have been over six feet. Even in these heels, my eyes only came up to his chin, which I noticed was covered in dark stubble. Either he hadn’t shaved for two days before he died, or he just liked it that way. I’d put money on him being a razor-dodger. It went better with the air of not giving une merde . Damn that I’d never get to spend that summer in Europe, wowing David—and any hot Parisians—with my four years of mediocre French. I focused hard on the dimple in the middle of Ed’s chin, so I wouldn’t have to look up and meet his
“Meet me downstairs in an hour then, and we’ll get this freak show on the road.” He didn’t even look up.
I stood there in the doorway, waiting for who-knows-what, and feeling like more and more of a dork with every second that passed.
“That’s sixty minutes,” Edison said, still refusing to get off the bed and properly acknowledge me.
Which I guessed was my cue to leave. So I did.
Chapter 10
PRECISELY ONE HOUR LATER, I FOUND MYSELF sitting on the Attesa’s black couch, bouncing my heels on the floor. Okay, it was more like fifty-one minutes later, but I was always the first one to arrive everywhere. My grandmother said it was one of my “better qualities” (for real). And, even though I knew it was a lame-ass habit, I couldn’t make myself act any other way. Even when I was dead, it seemed.
To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d thought the whole call-on-Ed-and-get-down-with-your-dark-side thing through, no matter how upset I’d been in the library. I mean, here I was, only three days off my mortal coil or whatever, and I’d managed to get myself stuck in limbo—if that’s what this was—the escaping of which relied heavily on me, Nancy, Lorna, and Tess solving my murder so I could get the hell out of here and move on to wherever came next. Which, with every day that passed, I was reeeally hoping involved unlimited PB and J sandwiches with the crusts off like Mom used to make (but I’d been too cool to take to school for at least, like, five years).
That considered, what was I doing? Not hanging around with the good ghosts, oh no. Instead I was asking the broody-potentially-evil guy to show me how to work against the system—just in case that meant I could maybe talk to my boyfriend again. David. The alive one. Who I was literally dead to now. And who seemed to have become a magnet for perky uniformed blondes. Hmmm …
“It doesn’t matter how hard you bite your lip, it won’t bleed.” I jumped. Ed was standing above me. How did the guy move so quietly? He was sneaky. Even for a ghost. “Sure you’re up for this?”
“Absolutely,” I said, trying to sound as sure as I totally didn’t feel.
“Then let’s get out of here. May I?” He held out his hand to pull me up. Like I was the kinda girl to fall for the chivalry act. I made a point of getting off the sofa without Edison’s help. Which would have made more of a point had I not nearly toppled off Mom’s heels in the process.
Ed smirked. “New, are they? Oh well, at least you have all of eternity to learn to walk in them.”
Asshole.
“Come on, let’s get out of here before Nancy Drew comes back and persuades you to do some map work or fingerprinting or whatever she has you guys doing in that ‘investigation’ room of hers.”
While anyone who wore as much black as Ed was far too cool to put finger quote marks around the word investigation , I could still hear them in his voice. Surprise, surprise, he wasn’t about to join the agency.
“Charlotte Feldman, get ready for a lesson you will never forget,” he said, making sure I’d had time to get steady and upright, before taking a step toward me.
Oh, hell … What was I doing? Edison was taller—and broader—than David, so he must have been over six feet. Even in these heels, my eyes only came up to his chin, which I noticed was covered in dark stubble. Either he hadn’t shaved for two days before he died, or he just liked it that way. I’d put money on him being a razor-dodger. It went better with the air of not giving une merde . Damn that I’d never get to spend that summer in Europe, wowing David—and any hot Parisians—with my four years of mediocre French. I focused hard on the dimple in the middle of Ed’s chin, so I wouldn’t have to look up and meet his
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