“Go figure! I know several actors who said Carly Britton was a bit of a haughty bitch, but...wow! Sold her soul to the devil, huh? And lost it to him, too.”

George, of course, felt a great deal like Katie. You never, ever got over a loss like the ones they’d experienced. You learned to love the memories.

And you were grateful when justice was served.

He was also glad because he was going back to work for a new movie.

A comedy.

No time travel, no suspense, no murder—no blood. He felt as if he’d been associated with enough of the real stuff.

Carly Britton’s husband remained among the missing. When asked about him, Monty Trudeau just smiled.

None of them knew for sure, but it seemed somewhere along the line, a decomposing body might well be found in the bayou and prove to have been Carly Britton’s husband.

It took a while for matters to be settled, and then Dan was flying back and forth, filling out everything necessary for the Academy, getting himself into order. He was most worried about Marleah, but she had discovered—thanks to an evening spent with George—that there was a lot of movie-extras work to be had in New Orleans. She could pick what projects she wanted to apply to be involved with and make a little fun money for gambling at Harrah’s.

It was late on a Friday afternoon and the sun was beginning its descent when Dan and Katie walked into the cemetery together where his family was interred, and where he had first met Mabel.

She was seated on the steps to her own family’s tomb.

She wasn’t alone.

Gray Simmons was with her, leaned against a gargoyle, a dashing flirt of ghostly soul.

“Why hello there, ” Mabel greeted them. “Thank goodness. We’ve been trying to find the right time and place to say goodbye!”

“And we’ve been looking for you,” Katie told her. “The two of you. Thank you!”

“Thank you,” Mabel said. She hesitated. “I... I will never understand. I couldn’t stop the man who killed my friend, and I could never see justice done for her, her family or the others. But in this, well, I feel...fulfilled.”

“Mabel wants to go on,” Gray said.

“Is that something you can just do?” Dan asked. He lifted a hand. “Remember, I’m new at this. Katie is the old pro!”

“Did you call me old?” Katie teased.

Dan groaned, and the ghosts laughed.

“I think so,” Mabel said. “Anyway, I’m going to try. I’ve seen others...”

“I’m... I’m going with her,” Gray said, looking at Katie.

“That’s lovely,” Katie said.

“You’ll be all right...yes, you’ll be all right. You, lady, you can kick!” Gray told her.

“And she’s hell on wheels with a gumbo pot, too,” Dan assured him.

“So, then...”