“They’re hiring people in India and places like that,” Jolie said. “To make sales calls, I mean. That’s how they get past the no-call list.” She grinned. “Next time, just tell them you’d love to buy everything they’re selling, but a waitress at IHOP chopped up your last credit card.”

“Ouch,” Nick said.

My face was beginning to hurt. I wanted to tell him to shut up, and a few other choice things, too, but I didn’t dare.

I’d forgotten how perceptive my sister could be.

“Is that ghost here?” she asked. “Is that why you look as if rigor mortis set in while you were watching Comedy Central?”

“Yes!” I said, relieved, gesturing toward Nick. “He’s right here.”

“She can’t see me, Mojo,” Nick said.

“Where?” Jolie asked, squinting.

I sighed. “Never mind.” Turned to Nick. “Get out,” I said. “Go rattle chains at the foot of your mother’s bed or something.”

Jolie was wide-eyed. After all, from her viewpoint, I was talking to an empty kitchen.

Nick blinked out. Chester, however, remained, curling around my ankles and purring.

“No wonder you didn’t want me to bring Sweetie,” Jolie said.

I was stumped.

She looked down. “The cat?”

I gasped. “You can see him?”

“Of course I can see him. He’s right there, circling your shoes.”

I scooped Chester up and sank into a chair at the table.

“What’s wrong?” Jolie demanded.

“He’s dead,” I said.

“Who’s dead?” My sister took a seat of her own.

“This cat.”

“Nonsense,” Jolie said. She put out a hand to pet him, and before she could make contact, he disappeared.

My arms ached, suddenly empty. I felt the echo of an old loss in my heart.

Jolie’s eyes were enormous. “What just happened here?”

“Do you believe me now?”

“No,” Jolie said. “I still think you’re full of shit. How did you do that?” She turned in her chair, scanning the kitchen. “With a projector, right? Some kind of hologram?”

“Sure,” I said. “My credit card was denied at IHOP, but I can afford all kinds of sophisticated video equipment. Disneyworld has nothing on me.”

Jolie’s rich mahogany complexion paled. I’m not sure how that was possible, but I saw it with my own eyes. “I am losing it,” she said, with a gulp, and I instantly felt sorry for her.

Nobody knew better than I did what a jolt it was to see a ghost.

“You’re perfectly sane, Jolie.”

“That was the cat—”

“The one Geoff killed, when I was four,” I said.

Jolie wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked a couple of times. I got up and got her a bottle of water, from the dwindling store in the fridge, and handed it over—after checking to make sure the seal hadn’t been broken.