Inspector Specter by E.J. Copperman Page B

at me when the phone rang at her mother’s house. By the time she got home, she’d be in another mood entirely. Or so I told myself.
    â€œEven if he is back, we need to be doing something more than waiting,” Melissa protested. “The lieutenant is really upset, and she’s our friend, so we should do whatever we can to help her.” My daughter is without question a better person than I am, but she’s eleven. She has lots of time to get worse.
    â€œWe are doing everything we can,” I said. “We’re keeping the lieutenant from having anything else to worry about. She wants us to stand on the sidelines, and that is precisely what we’re going to do.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œNo. That’s it. No wiggle room on this one, Liss. I agree with Lieutenant McElone. This is her thing to do, and she really does have the experience and the authority I don’t have. She
is
hurting, and you’re right to want to make her feel better, but all you and I can do is follow her instructions. I’m not discussing it beyond that. Clear?”
    Liss seemed stunned that I was playing the mom card so forcefully. She sat back, folded her arms and didn’t talk to me the rest of the ride home. I wasn’t thrilled about that, but it indicated that she had at least heard my argument and would abide by it.
    Oddly enough, I had been right about one thing: When we got back to the house, Paul was floating around the den looking serious, which is his default look. Melissa’s face lit up when she saw him. “Paul!”
    Bonnie Claeson, my sleepiest guest, was now awake and sitting in an armchair near the door of the den, reading a book. Bonnie seemed comfortable with the idea of ghosts in the house, but rather than interact with them, she seemed to simply want to spend most of her time quietly reading or walking on the beach.
    My favorite kind of guest.
    Now, Bonnie looked up, amused, at Liss, then went back to the book she was reading without so much as a word.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Paul asked, no doubt a little surprised by Melissa’s oversized greeting.
    â€œWe couldn’t find you,” Liss said, moving to the far end of the room. Bonnie didn’t seem to be listening to the conversation, but we didn’t want to disturb her reading.
    â€œWell, I was here,” Paul said. “Don’t worry.” He seemed to be looking at the ceiling, which was odd. Paul was rarely evasive.
    â€œWe looked everywhere,” Liss insisted.
    â€œClearly not
everywhere
,” Paul told her. “I wasn’t
nowhere
.” It was worse than I thought; he was treating Melissa like a child, which he’d never done before. I began to wonder exactly what Paul could possibly be trying to hide.
    I kept my voice low but conversational. “We really did search pretty thoroughly,” I told him. “Have you seen Maxie?”
    â€œNot recently,” Paul said. “Is something wrong?”
    â€œI need her to do some research,” I explained. “Lieutenant McElone is taking some personal time to look for Ferry’s killer on her own, and she wants us to sit around and do nothing until you can get in touch with the detective himself.”
    Paul’s hand went to his goatee, but he didn’t stroke it. Not yet. He needed more.
    I reached into my pocket and pulled out the flash drive McElone had given me. “Take this and put it in your pocket,” I told Paul.
    â€œClever, Mom,” Melissa said, smiling. “That way nobody but us can ever get it back.” That was the plan. Very few people could see Paul, and even those of us who could wouldn’t be able to get the tiny flash drive if he hid it in his clothing, since the ghosts can make objects “disappear” to the living by doing that. It helps them transport objects through walls and so forth. Maxie, for example, will often “put on” a bulky trench coat in