“What were you doing in there?” The man seemed to find her very amusing.

“I’m a ghost.”

“That’s right. You really scare me.”

He leaned into the car and she steadied her palm on the horn, ready to hit it if he came any closer.

“Listen, I need to ask you a favor. You know that lady across the street?”

She shrugged.

“You know when she’ll be home?”

She shrugged.

“Hey, I thought you were a ghost. Shouldn’t you know everything?”

She shrugged.

“Well, would you pass her a message from me?”

Again, she shrugged.

“Now come on, Ghost. This is real important. I’m an old, old friend of hers. Would you tell her Bluto was here and that I’ll be back soon? Could you do that for me?”

She wavered, then nodded slowly.

“Thanks a million, Ghost. I owe you one.”

“Wait.” She frowned. “Bluto’s the name of her dog though.”

“Is that what she told you?” He smirked to himself and started to walk away. Suddenly, he whipped back, and she returned her hand to the horn.

“Is she out a lot?”

“I dunno. For a pregnant lady, maybe.”

Her words brought a perplexed expression to his face. Slowly this morphed into the delighted smile of a man who’d just won some bet. He gazed up at the full moon and for a moment Mira thought he was going to bay.

“I’ll be seeing ya, my pretty little Ghost.”

The man retreated. The term pretty gave her goosebumps. What did he mean by that? Was he being sarcastic or what? Mira watched him disappear into a safe distance before she climbed out of the car and dashed into the house.

The moment Kate pulled into her driveway, she saw in her rearview mirror the figure of a girl running madly toward her out of the dark. She froze and locked her doors. When the girl came closer, she rolled down her window.

It was just one of the Park girls. “Hi there?”

A chill shot down Mira’s spine. Kate and the man who was looking for her said those exact words with the exact same questioning lilt.

“A man came for you,” Mira said. “He says his name’s Bluto, like your dog. He says he’ll be back.”

“Oh? Thank you.” Kate conjured up a pained smile. She was reacting so stiffly that Mira half expected her to reach into her purse for a tip. Then came a look of barely concealed anxiety. “If that man ever tries to approach you again, you should run.”

“Run?”

“Yes, the act of departing quickly. He’s not someone you want to get mixed up with . . . He’s got a history.”

“History?”

“Yes, things that happened in the past.”

Unlocking the front door, Kate’s hands rattled. Bluto had stepped into her flower bed and brought topsoil to her welcome mat. What did he want?