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say the name Arlice, so that’s something to go on. You have no idea how difficult it is living with myself like this.” I declined to challenge him on the term living .
    “Have you heard from the person who contacted you since then?”
    “No,” Scott answered finally. “The next day, the letters were gone. I don’t know how they got in without me hearing them, but they were simply gone. And they’ve been gone since.”
    If there’s one thing you learn as a parent, especially a single parent, it’s how to be the bad guy and still be able to look yourself in the mirror. “Let me think about it,” I told Scott. “I understand how you feel, but I can’t tell you right now that I’ll be happy to do what you ask.”
    Scott said that he understood, but Paul, Maxie, Mom and Melissa didn’t look like they concurred. After a minute or so, Paul informed me that Scott had left. I already knew that, because the red bandana had vanished, too. I’d seen Paul and Maxie stuff things into their pockets, and the physical object had disappeared. Once Scott left, everyone in the room, living and not-so-much, let out a sigh of relief. The man’s sadness had been palpable.
    One by one, they got up and left without a word, until just Paul and I were still in the kitchen. And he looked at me with those puppy dog eyes and stroked his goatee, which I guessed no longer required daily maintenance.
    “Don’t start,” I said.
    “You did make a promise,” Paul said, completely ignoring my plea.
    “And it was not to get involved in dangerous pursuits,” I reminded him. “If this woman was set up to be murdered, the people who did it would, by definition, be dangerous. I’m not getting myself into a situation like that again.”
    Paul nodded. “That’s right, you’re not. Because if this woman was killed, if Scott really did do her some inadvertent harm, he’s not asking us to find out who was responsible. He’s not asking us to solve the crime. He just wants to know if it was his fault, so he can look himself in the mirror.”
    “He’s blind.” I looked at Paul. “And anyway, can you guys see yourselves in the mirror?”
    “That’s not the point. He wants to be able to live . . . exist inside his own mind. Is that too much to ask? You do a little legwork, ask a few questions, find out if the crime occurred. Whether or not it did, that’s as far as our investigation goes. There is no danger. The man already can’t see. Do you also want him to be alone in a dark place with guilty thoughts?”
    “He said he would be paid back with a promotion to the next level of existence,” I reminded Paul. “How does that work? How do you know there is a next level?”
    Paul leaned his head to the right. “There’s no way to know,” he said. “Some people believe if we perform the right kind of acts in this state, we are moved on to something better, something higher. Some people think this is all there is. Scott obviously believes that he needs to redeem himself to reach the next stage.”
    “What do you believe?” I asked him.
    “Until seventeen months ago, I didn’t even believe in ghosts,” Paul sighed. “I’m not the guy to ask. But some people get so frustrated being . . . like me, that they end their existence entirely.”
    “That’s possible? You’re already dead.”
    Paul nodded. “I haven’t seen it, but I’ve heard about it from other people like me,” he said. “Apparently, the frustration can get so unbearable for some of us that they actually will themselves into a nonexistence. I’m told they just sort of dissolve into nothing.”
    “Ghost suicide,” I said, shaking my head. “Go figure.”
    “That’s what Scott is up against,” Paul said, pushing it a little too hard for my taste.
    I stood up. The guests hadn’t seen me for a while now, and that was bad business. I started for the door into the den. “You’re not playing fair,” I told Paul. “You’re trying to make me feel