Coop stopped for a second. “Were you part of the bunch that possessed management a few weeks back? People are still talking about it.”

“Nope. It didn’t happen. I don’t know about it. I was haunting the squid tank at SeaWorld at the time.”

“You’re a lousy liar,” said Coop.

“Enough about me. Let’s talk about you and Giselle. How soon before you need heart surgery again?”

“Nope. We are not going to do this.”

“Come on. Throw me a bone. You in an emotional wood chipper is one of the few things I get to look forward to.”

“Sorry. It’s not going to happen this time.” Beams crisscrossed his vision, trying to cut him in half. Like the others, they passed through him, but one scorched his right boot, leaving him doing a clumsy Riverdance down the hall.

“Duck,” said Phil as a sword swung out from the back of a picture of ducks on a pond. “Duck. Did you get it? I said duck.”

“I got it, Phil. Can you spin plates? You’d have wowed them in vaudeville.”

“My guess is your heart goes back in the Cuisinart just about the time you finish this box job and hit the bricks.”

“You know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think you’re jealous. When’s the last time a lady ghost gave you the time of day?”

Phil didn’t say anything for a minute. “We’re almost there.”

The curses came harder and faster as they neared the study that held the safe. Two of the curses met at the edge of Coop’s waist sack and started to melt the nylon. Coop dove out of the way before he caught fire.

“Okay, that was scary,” said Phil. “It might be time for a song.”

“Don’t bother. We’re here,” said Coop. They stood before heavy wooden sliding doors, like something leading to a Victorian drawing room. “Do you see any traps?”

“Give me a minute,” said Phil. Then, “Nothing out here, but I bet there are oodles inside.”

“Here we go,” said Coop. He pushed the doors open and jumped back behind the hallway wall. Nothing came out of the room. No dragon fire. No spikes. No flying badgers with knives for feet. Coop peeked around the corner and looked into an entirely ordinary room. Ordinary except for one feature. A gray metal safe about three feet tall, like something you’d see in any business office, was floating several inches off the floor.

“Why haven’t you kissed her yet?” said Phil.

“Not now,” said Coop. “Because I didn’t want to and because I don’t think she wanted to kiss me. I mean, she might have at one point. But the moment passed.”

“Story of your life, huh?”

“Just do your job.”