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long hours they had worked that day - and al week - she looked great. While most of the eighteen-year-old girls he knew always seemed to have put themselves together with great care, almost to have sculpted their appearance from makeup to fashion, Mol y was always just Mol y.
    "A little on edge?" she teased.
    He al owed a smal smile. "Always, unfortunately. You never know when some wild woman is going to attack."
    She cocked a hip and placed a hand on it. "You wish."
    And there it was, unspoken between them. Only implied. The attraction Jack felt was undeniable, and he knew that she felt it, too. But neither of them was wil ing to do anything about it.
    Not with Artie's death so fresh.
    "Penny for your thoughts?" she inquired.
    "You couldn't afford them, Hatcher," he replied. "You done for the night?"
    "Yeah. Kiera and I did the rol ups for tomorrow. Only Tim and a couple of the other guys are left in the kitchen. Can I buy you a drink?" she asked.
    Jack glanced over at the bar, where Bil slipped his drawer back into the register and began to count his tips.
    "Bil wil not be happy if we mess up his counter," Jack told her.
    "He'l live," she said. "Besides, Bil loves me."
    Mol y set off toward the bar. The sounds of shouts and something banging came from the kitchen in the back. Tim Dunphy and the rest of the kitchen staff were blowing off steam, meaning they were finished for the night. They'd go out the back, and Dunphy would lock the rear door. He was the only one on staff who had a key to the place other than Jack, Bil , Mol y, and Courtney.
    Kiera and another waitress waved as they disappeared back into the kitchen. And that was that. The only people left in the front of the restaurant were Jack, Mol y, and Bil . The place seemed surreal, lit up like that when it was empty. Jack moved to the hostess's station by the front doors and turned the lights down again, leaving only a few stil lit at al .
    "Hey, romantic," Bil said, looking up.
    Jack gave him a halfhearted smile but did not respond. He didn't think the lighting romantic at al . In truth, he was happy to have his friends' company. When he was alone down here, in the shel of the restaurant, after al the life had fled from it and the lights were down, he could not help but think of the night of Artie's wake.
    It had been the first time he had ever talked to a ghost.
    Of course, it had happened a great many times since then, but that first night, he had been terrified. Artie had been murdered by the Prowlers and had returned from the dead to ask Jack to take vengeance for him. He had opened Jack's mind so that he could see the Ghostlands, the world side by side with that of the living, where lost souls wandered.
    Artie had never real y gone away.
    Jack did not see him al the time, but it was rare for a whole week to go by without a visit. Artie wanted him to take care of Mol y, had even suggested that there might be more between them than friendship. The ghost would rather see her with Jack, whom he knew would treat Mol y right, than some other guy. Which total y freaked Jack out. Not that he didn't have feelings for Mol y, but the last thing he felt he could do was talk to Artie about them.
    And Mol y . . . Jack had a feeling that she suspected. He had told her about his ability to speak to the wanderers of the Ghostlands, and she had never asked if Artie was among them, a fact that told Jack she did not want to know the answer. Which was fine, considering that Artie did not want Mol y to know he was stil around. The ghost was afraid she would not be able to move on with her life.
    Much to Jack's chagrin, what had been a simple life for him had turned out to be very complicated. And, it seemed, death was complicated as wel .

    With a shudder, he glanced at the spot behind the bar where Artie's ghost had first appeared to him, and then went over to take a seat next to Mol y. Though Bil was stil counting out his tips, he had taken the time to pour her an iced tea.
    "Oh,