“No,” I said softly. “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen him. But you don’t belong here, ma’am. This isn’t your place anymore. And I’m here to help you find your way back to where you can rest in peace.”

I opened the shutter on the spirit lantern, and radiant white light tinged with an ethereal hint of blue spilled forth. The ghost flew backward, arms windmilling, her unlikely shadow manifesting behind her on the worn green carpeting. In the ballroom beyond her with its hand-carved mahogany wall panels and etched-glass skylights, wedding guests cried out in alarm at the sudden change of events.

Cody darted past me, hammer in one hand and a nail in the other. “Hold it steady, Daise!”

I did.

Unfortunately, we hadn’t counted on the fact that beneath the carpeting, the floors of the Osikayas were steel. Cody’s hammer rang out with a resounding metallic clang, but his nail simply fell over.

He grimaced at me. “Sorry.”

The ghost drifted, toes trailing over the carpeting. “’Ere’th my huthband?” she asked a pair of bridesmaids in lavender satin huddled in a corner, clutching each other. “’Ave oo theen my huthband?”

Eyes screwed shut tight, they shook their heads.

“Oh, my God!” Stacey Brooks was in the middle of the ballroom, camera raised. “This is fantastic!”

I flashed her with the spirit lantern.

“Ow!” She glared at me.

“Daisy!” Cody pointed toward the far end of the ballroom, where there was an inlaid parquet dance floor. “We’ve got to get her over there.”

“Right.” Now that the ghost was no longer blocking the exit, wedding guests were making a break for it, including the tear-streaked living bride and her new husband. As the groom shouldered past me, I grabbed his arm, thinking one guy in a tuxedo looked a lot like any other. “You. I need you to go stand over there in the far corner.”

He gaped. “Are you out of your mind?”

My temper flared, and I channeled my anger into my voice, letting it crack like a whip. “Goddammit, just do it! Do it for your bride!”

It worked. The groom stumbled across the room to stand trembling in the corner of the dance floor.

I shuttered the spirit lantern and approached the ghost. “Hey,” I said to her, pointing. “Isn’t that your husband over there?”

Her bulging eyes blinked, or at least they almost blinked. Her eyelids couldn’t quite close. “’Oo!” she moaned, drifting toward the dance floor, toes dangling, head canted. “’Ow could oo do thith do me?”

In the corner, the groom shuddered and covered his face with his hands, peering between his fingers in terror. I waited until the apparition had reached the edge of the parquet before opening the shutter on the spirit lantern again, letting the brilliant light cast the ghost’s shadow on the squares of polished wood.