My phone chimed with a text from Cass: Probably not?
It took my brain several backflips to remember what in the world I'd asked her. Oh, right. Are ghosts the murdery type?
I voice-to-texted her back: Any way you can meet me at the public library in ten minutes?
It's Sunday. They're closed, right?
Not for us. (winky face)
I feel so special! *twirls* See you in ten.
It was now twilight of the longest birthday of my life, the dipping sun casting dramatic oranges and purples across the Georgia sky. After scouring Isabella's property, the police - minus Detective Palmer - had left empty-handed. Officer Brown had agreed with me, though, that given what happened to Mr. Seymour, assigning an officer outside to keep watch was a great idea. Smart man, that Officer Brown. The assigned officer was now parked at the curb. Really, though I would never admit this out loud, he was here for Boxy's sake.
I'll explain in a minute. Stay me with on this.