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to make an exorcism look flashy.”
    I covered my disappointment by getting up to get a cola. “I doubt Hayden Amry’s house is haunted. He seems to be a nice guy, just a little nervous.”
    “We could do an exorcism if you think it would make him feel better.”
    “I’ll handle it, thanks.”
    Jerry took a bite of his sandwich. “What age is this guy?”
    “Our age.”
    “Buck-toothed and spotty?”
    “No, he’s quite handsome.”
    “Great. That makes two possibilities in town.”
    What was he talking about now? “Possibilities?”
    “For you.” When I frowned, he said, “Mac, it’s time you let yourself have a little fun. I know Bill was a louse, but not every man’s like that.”
    “I don’t really want to talk about this,” I said. Not now. Not when I’m sitting across from the man I want. The one incredibly obtuse man.
    “That protester, Ted Stacy. He looked like your kind of guy. Somebody who hates pageants as much as you do. Or this Hayden fellow. He works in a book store. You read books. A match made in heaven.”
    “He’s married.” Jerry as matchmaker was a more frightening idea than Jerry as exorcist. “Stop trying to fix me up.”
    “Okay.”
    “I don’t pressure you to marry Olivia, do I?” God forbid. When he raised his eyebrows, I had to ask, “Do you want to marry Olivia?”
    “Well, I’m not ready to make that leap yet. She is a bit hard to please.”
    At least he could see that. “If she’s hard to please now, she’s going to be hard to please later.”
    He took another bite of sandwich and chewed a while. Then he said something that really alarmed me. “She might be worth it.”
    I didn’t want anything else to eat. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to pick out a bedroom.”
    “You can have Uncle Val’s.”
    “No, thanks. That’s for the lord of the manor.”
    I took my Wal-Mart purchases upstairs and decided on the largest of the four guestrooms. I wasn’t exactly sleepy, but I wanted to sort things out. Today, I’d quit one job and found two more. Today, I’d tried to escape my pageant past and failed. But I was here in the house with Jerry. Maybe not in the same bedroom, but that was another problem for me to solve.
    ***
     
    Early the next morning a bizarre noise made my eyes pop open. For a moment, I had no idea where I was; then I remembered, I was in the large guestroom upstairs at the Eberlin house, haunted house number one. The bizarre noise sounded again. I realized it was a rooster crowing. And now a chorus of tweets and chirps and hoots greeted the rising sun. Ah, the peace and quiet of the country. I burrowed back under the covers. I’d slept well and I hadn’t been eaten by rats.
    I must have drifted back to sleep because the next sound I heard was “ Scintille, diamant ” floating up the stairs. Jerry was brought up listening to classical music, so he’s fond of opera, of all things. He knows several by heart, and if I don’t stop him, he’ll start at the beginning and sing one all the way through. Not that he can sing like a real opera singer. His voice is mid-range and usually in key, but I’ve heard The Tales of Hoffmann too many times. He also likes one called Paul Bunyan , which is kind of obscure and actually pretty funny, but I didn’t want to hear that, either.
    Better put a stop to it right now.
    I rolled out of bed. Time to get up and check my messages.
    No messages.
    Maybe there was something wrong with my phone. I put that at the top of my list of things to check when I got back to Parkland.
    My Wal-Mart items included underwear and a tee shirt that said, “Welcome to Celosia.” I slid on my jeans and the tee shirt and went downstairs, being careful to step over the loose boards.
    Jerry must have gotten up with the sun. The dusty rug from the foyer hung over the porch railing. The wooden floor glowed with a warm golden shine. He was dusting the mantel and singing something about trees.
    “Shut up,” I said.
    “Thought