Chapter 5

When they pulled up to her tiny store with its cheerful display of books in the window, along with a worn teddy bear sitting in a rocking chair, she couldn't help but smile, no matter how miserable she'd been feeling on the way over.

Speaking of the ride over… The entire time, Shamus had been forced to hold her hand to keep her from floating all over the interior of the car.

Not that his hand in hers had been a bad thing, but it was daggone annoying. Nina had swatted at her and yelled in her face to get away from the windshield and stop floating into her line of vision, while Marty and Wanda bellowed at Nina to stop being so rude about something Ralph couldn't help.

Somehow, they'd managed to make it to her store without creating a ten-car pileup.

Now that they'd arrived, everyone grew quiet.

The lights from the street and the windows of the other shops surrounding hers glowed in the frosty night.

The work to get to this point in her life had been hard. Seeing Once Upon a Time brought so much pride. She'd searched high and low for exactly the right spot. A place where people could find fellow readers, a place where there were nooks and crannies and a magical quality she'd spent two years on Pinterest creating boards to achieve.

A neighborhood that craved good books and the love of community. She'd found that right here. Right inside this white brick structure with a mint-green, candy-cane-striped awning with scalloped edges and an enormous, illuminated fairy with rainbow-colored wings holding a sign that read: Nothing happens unless first we dream.

Right inside were whimsical chimes hung in corners, and puffy wingback chairs next to equally quirky end tables, where you could set a cup of coffee or a glass of wine.

The Dr. Seuss area, where she'd placed funny-shaped, brightly colored tables and a big top hat, like the one on the cover of The Cat in The Hat, where children could come and hear a story read to them by a local author.

It was all gone now. Dark and slathered with her death. But for that one bright moment before her demise, she'd felt more alive than ever before in her life.

Optimistically speaking, she'd have that memory forever, and she'd learn to accept that her dream was gone eventually, but the longing she felt as they parked beside her store made her choke up.

As she took a closer look, she noted there were wilting bouquets of flowers, crosses with cards and notes pinned to them, and a big sign that read: Rest in Peace, Ms. Tucci. We love you.

Her eyes went wide. Was that all…for her?

"Ooo, Ralph, honey. Look how well-loved you are," Wanda commented softly. "How lovely."

Shamus turned to smile at her. "I'll say. That's a pretty great testament to your life."

Speechless, Ralph sat stunned, staring at the outpouring of love from so many people.

"I…" She didn't know what to say, but seeing all these tributes undoubtedly cemented her fate. Clenching her fingers together, she fought a loud sob of gratitude tinged with her deep sorrow. "The people in my life were good people," was all she managed.

"You okay, Ralph?" Marty asked, her tone sweetly sympathetic.

She nodded bleakly. "I just really want to see Blanche."

They all piled out of the car…well, she floated. She hadn't mastered walking yet. Though, Shamus had assured her that eventually she'd get the hang of it.

She didn't mind floating. It was actually kind of freeing to be able to move so swiftly.

Thankfully, night had fallen, allowing them to move under the cover of darkness. Marty stopped for a moment and stared at her building.

"This place looks so familiar…"

"You know, I was about to say the same thing," Wanda commented. "But I can't remember ever coming to a bookstore, can you, Marty?"

Nina rolled her eyes, clearly impatient. "I'm not surprised this place is familiar. You two have been to almost every single store in the tri-state. They all start to look the same after a while, don't they? Now, hurry the fuck up. We're at a fucking crime scene. Let's not linger."

She gave them a light shove as Ralph led them to the back of the store through the alley. She had access to her apartment there, as well as from inside the store. As they took the long stairway up to her apartment, Ralph swallowed hard, praying Blanche was still alive.

If they'd found her body yesterday, maybe someone had remembered Blanche and taken her. But if they had, how would she find her? How would she know for certain she was safe?

If the police had investigated her apartment, they'd find her best friend Hazel imprinted all over her life, from text messages to Skype calls. Maybe they'd called her to come get Blanche. That thought gave her some solace.

They all stood crammed up against one another on the tiny landing in front of the door where yellow crime tape blocked it off, the one she'd only recently painted a teal green to make it more inviting.

"Keys," Ralph muttered. "Dang. I don't have the keys, and while I can go through the door, you guys can't. And I can't open it, so how will we get?—"

Nina grabbed the doorknob, twisting until the lock broke. She pushed the door open with her foot and motioned everyone inside, holding up the tape.

If Wanda was nice, Nina was brute force without a single fear. She stomped through the door without even checking to see if anything looked out of order.

Ralph gasped. Oh, dear. Her entire apartment was trashed. Drawers were tossed, cabinets were opened, her small end table on its side.

But she wasn't thinking about that. She was thinking about Blanche.

Ralph rushed in behind Nina, floating toward her tiny kitchen, where her cat sometimes hid under her little table for one. "Blanche!" she called out, swishing her thumb and middle finger together in a familiar gesture Blanche understood.

Her feeder still had a least a week's worth of food in it, and so did her water. That at least meant she'd been eating and staying hydrated.

"Blanche? Come see Mommy!"

Panic began to set in as she floated toward her bedroom, but it was Nina to the rescue again. She came out of the bedroom with Blanche in her arms, the cat's long tail wrapped around Nina's neck, enmeshed in the vampire's silky black hair.

"Is your mommy a ghost, cuddle bug?" the vampire asked Blanche, as she ran her knuckles under her chin, burying her nose in her fur. "Can't believe the police didn't find her. Good job hiding from the coppers, little lady. You'd have ended up in some disgusting shelter unbefitting of a fine feline like you."

"Oh, Blanche Devereaux!" Ralph cried, instinctively reaching out to touch her, only to find her hand slipped right through her fur. She hadn't anticipated how much that would hurt, but it felt like a searing poker to her heart. She looked to Shamus. "Can she see me like everyone else because of the fairy dust?"

Shamus nodded, his words as gentle as his eyes. "Maybe even without the fairy dust. Some animals can see ghosts, or sense them, like my boy Dale. But for the moment, she can definitely see you with the dust."

Leaning forward, Ralph brushed her ghostly face against Blanche's nose in their familiar boop. Her cat bumped foreheads with her, purring madly, forcing her to tamp down a sob.

She couldn't feel it. Ralph wished with all she had, with every bit of her soul, that she could rub her face against Blanche's soft fur. But she felt the intention, and it made her shoulders quake as she fought tears that frustratingly wouldn't come.

"Her name's Blanche Devereaux?" Nina asked.

Ralph nodded. "It is." She couldn't explain the reasons why right now, her throat was too tight.

"That's our girl Ingrid's dog's name. Another paranormal we'll explain later. Fucking great minds think alike, huh?" For the first time, Nina's eyes held sympathy as she stroked Blanche's jaw, holding Ralph's eyes captive. "Mommy loves you, pretty girl. You wanna come with us back to my dark lair? Waffles would love you. If Calamity shows up from wherever the hell she is, she'll share her cat perch. Charlie and Carl are gonna love you, too."

Ralph's shoulders slumped in deep sorrow. "You'll take her?" she whispered hopefully, her soul shrouded with grief at the thought of never seeing Blanche again, once they found out where she was supposed to be.

"Of course, I'll fucking take her," Nina said, her tone hoarse, turning away from them. "Right, pretty? Tell Mommy that Auntie Nina will take good care of you. Always."

Wanda was suddenly beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders that Ralph couldn't feel but needed regardless.

"I know you can't feel this, but I'm hugging you anyway, Ralph. I know this is painful, honey, and I'm so sorry. But I promise you, Nina's an animal lover. She'll take the best care of her. We all will."

How strange that she could smell Wanda's perfume, a light floral scent, wafting to her nose, comforting her.

She turned her head into Wanda's shoulder, praying for composure so she wouldn't look nearly as weak as she felt. The idea that these people would take care of the one thing that meant the most to her, knowing nothing about her, touched her deeper than almost anything ever had.

"I…I saw you all with your dogs…Waffles, Muffin. I know Blanche will love you all as much as you love your pets, but…"

Marty stood before her and held out her palms for Ralph to place her hands on. Ralph set her hands on Marty's, watching them disappear like smoke, but closing her eyes anyway and letting the warmth of her next sentiment fill her up.

"But it hurts just the same," Marty said softly. "Nina can be a horrible beast, but there isn't an animal that doesn't love her, doesn't get the best of everything because she's their owner. She had Waffles's wheelchair specially made in Germany. Believe me when I say, Blanche couldn't have landed in a better place even if she'd tried."

Licking her lips, Ralph nodded, so weary and beaten. After a week of freefalling, of floating from room to room in Nina's castle with no one to hear her thoughts and fears, it was good to be with people who knew she was there.

"Thank you," she whispered before straightening.

Aside from getting Blanche, coming here had been a mistake. It only made the deepest part of her feel a sorrow she'd never known before, except for maybe when her mother was dying.

Her mother…

Was death the way everyone romanticized in books and movies? Would she see her mother if there was an other side?

Her heart clenched. Right now, there were other more pressing things to deal with. Like where she would end up and how she would get there.

She forced herself to focus on her surroundings. To take one last good look at the place she'd called home.

Ralph loved her little apartment, filled with all the things she'd treasured. Her favorite books on a rustic wood shelf by her small flatscreen TV. The old but well-loved steel-blue couch she and Blanche sat on when she ate her dinner. The warm, fuzzy, moss-green and cream blanket they cuddled under, currently draped over the arm, just the way she'd left it.

Her itty-bitty kitchen with shaker-style cabinets she'd painted in cottage blue. The window overlooking a park, where she'd spent some time growing ferns and violets. They sat on a wooden sill she'd stained herself.

Now it was all just one big mess. The police had obviously searched her things for information, but had they fund anything useful?

Then she heard one of the women gasp. She floated to where the sound came from.

Her bedroom.

Yikes.

"Looks like they tossed the shit outta your bedroom, too" Nina commented, tucking Blanche under her arm.

Marty nodded, her dangly earrings catching the light shining in from outside. "I'll say."

If they'd turned her living room and kitchen upside down, her bedroom bore the brunt of it.

"Don't touch anything," Wanda ordered. "If the police come back, we don't want anyone to know we've been here."

Her mattress was flipped upward, the pretty linen comforter in pale pink and beige tossed in the corner, along with her ruffled pillows.

The folding doors of her closet were pushed open and knocked off their tracks. All of her clothes were thrown on the hardwood floor, the pockets of her pants turned inside out.

Her wicker nightstand and dresser drawers were open and emptied, some still askew in their slots.

Ralph's nod was slow. "It makes sense they'd search this room, I guess. This is where my laptop was kept. And I keep all the invoices and transactions for the store in my nightstand. I guess the police were looking for clues to my killer?"

Her voice sounded dead to her ears. She felt so removed from the scene laid out before her. This was her safe haven, torn asunder, and she didn't know how else to deal with it but to shove it aside in favor of her sanity.

Someone had murdered her, and that was that. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to know who'd killed her.

Yet, her apathy troubled her.

Wiping her hands together, Ralph decided it was time to end this. The whole time she'd been hoping the answer to her afterlife was here, but nothing had changed. She was still Ralph the Ghost with no particular place to go.

"I guess that's it, huh?"

Shamus, who'd remained in the background for most of the time they'd spent in her apartment, came to stand beside her. "Are you okay, Ralph?" he asked, his voice husky and low.

"Did you find anything that might help you figure out what kind of ghost I am and why I'm still here?"

He looked down at her, his green eyes shimmering. "Nothing I can see that's obvious. And oddly, there are no other ghosts around you. You've been gone a week. Usually…"

"Usually?" she asked. "Usually what?"

"Usually, one of my afterlife contacts or another pops up with some kind of information about a new ghost."

Her eyebrow lifted. God, this was all so absurd. "You have ghostly contacts?"

He gave her an ironic smile. "I do. There are plenty of ghosts who don't cross over."

Ralph's eyes went wide as she looked around. "So they just do what I did and hover…forever?"

He shrugged. "Some do. They mean no harm, and they won't hurt you. They're a pretty chatty bunch. But they all appear to be on vacation at the moment."

Her laugh was dry. "And that means what for me? Maybe they just don't like me? Maybe they don't want someone new at the lunch table in the ghost cafeteria."

Shamus chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's not what that means. Your ghostly properties seem to be dormant right now, but they'll crop up. They always do. But I don't think we'll find the answer here in your apartment. Though, sometimes being among your things can help you to finish your journey."

Finish her journey…

"That went over like a lead balloon, huh? Because I'm still here."

Shamus put a hand on her shoulder, spreading warmth throughout her body. "Do you feel a pull at all?"

Confused, Ralph asked, "A pull?"

"As in something pulling you away—I've heard it described as a tug on your soul."

Ah. Now she understood. "No. Nothing."

Nina grunted, breaking her concentration. "By the way, did I mention how fucking refreshing it is not to have to explain to you what we are? That I didn't have to break out my fangs and flash them around was kinda nice. I could get used to this shit. I'm so used to all the crying and denying and ‘why me,' I almost forgot to say thanks. You've been like a fucking dream compared to most."

"Glad I could make things easier. I aim to please," she joked, looking down at her feet and her black ballet slippers.

"Let's take a swing downstairs to your store. Maybe something there will spark a memory that helps you move on," Shamus suggested.

She took one last look at her home—her life—and nodded.

But her heart cried for what once was.

And the rest of her feared what would be.

She led the women and Shamus toward the other door in her apartment off her kitchen that led to the back stairs that would take them to the alley and the back door of her shop. There was more yellow crime scene tape Nina lifted for them as she clung to Blanche, before they ducked under it and stepped over the threshold to head down.

Nina pushed her way past them when they reached the alley, suddenly holding up a finger as she stopped short in front of the metal exit door of her shop, covered in yet more crime scene tape.

"Somebody's fucking in there," she hissed.

They all stood stock still. Ralph froze mid-air and cocked an ear.

Then there was a loud bang, followed by the clanging of the wind chimes she'd hung in the children's area. Then someone yelled, "Goddammit!"