Chapter 25

“I wish he could tell us.”

“Hey. Maybe we do have a ghostly navigator. Look.”

The intersection at the red light was marked Market Street and Crane Avenue.

“Crane, as in Micha Crane,” I said. “Thomas Crane. He likely lived around here, if his home wasn’t far from Jefferson’s.”

“Coincidence?”

I shrugged at Goose’s question. “Or not. We who notice things others do not see might know better when a coincidence is actually a sign.”

“Ooh. You’re sexy when you speak all metaphysical and mystical.”

Our coffee shop destination was a mere two feet up Crane avenue. Perhaps that was a sign as well. I gave the young barista our names at the window, “Goose and Patrick,” which I always liked saying together like that. We ordered two black coffees and six glazed doughnuts, once I’d convinced Goose it was more economical to purchase them that way in the long run. Truth was, I had no doubt I could eat at least three.