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wheel and spun over to the curb, the screech of the tires attracting attention. Since he drove a convertible, and the hot sunny day had been perfect for putting the top down, he carefully controlled his voice. “Look, I don’t know how the hell you got into my car or who you are, Mate ,” he said, “but you’ve got one minute to get lost, or I’ll be forced to remove you. Trust me; it wouldn’t be pleasant. I’d hurt you just because you’ve pissed me off, scaring the bejesus out of me.”
    “Jesus is on my side, I’m afraid. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Liam. You could remove me, but I’d only return. You need me with you today.”
    Perplexed by the sincerity in his unwanted passenger’s voice and by the fact that a stranger knew his name, Liam stopped raging. Searching for control, he took a couple of deep breaths, gritted his teeth and asked, “Why?”
    “To stop you from killing someone.”
    “Okay, Bub! You’re outta here.” Furious at letting his guard down and getting played, Liam bolted from the front seat. He wrenched open the back door, and motioned with his thumb.
    “I’ll only come back.” The slim male with the dark hair and cynical attitude didn’t move. Instead he crossed his arms and glared up at Liam. Familiar looking, he had Liam searching his brain for who he reminded him of. The pirate’s jerkin, flowing white blousy shirt and tight leather pants were clues, but they didn’t add up at first. It was the haircut that solidified his speculation. The guy looked enough like a young Johnny Depp to be his twin. Only his strong English accent didn’t fit the picture.
    “Stop playing silly buggers and get out of my car.” Liam leaned in and his fingers met—air, because there was no one in his back seat. Stunned, he sagged against the side of the vehicle.
    As if his intentions hadn’t changed, his fingers continued reaching towards his hair, getting stuck in his wild mess. With a yank, he pushed them to the back of his head, interlocked his hands and studied the ground. Covertly, he peeked around him to see if anyone had noticed him talking to—what? A ghost?
    He hadn’t been drinking the previous night. Deciding the time had come to cool it with the late nights, he’d turned off the idiot box at ten after the football game and for once had gotten an early night. Actually managed to sleep for four consecutive hours before he woke and thrashed the rest of the night before luckily fall into another dreamless nap for maybe an hour. Five hours in one night—unheard of for him. Therefore, he couldn’t blame this lapse on being hung over or even on extreme tiredness. Blinking, he studied the back seat again. Still empty.
    His cell phone rang, and he wiggled to free it from the pocket of his jeans. When he looked at call display, his eyes widened and he snorted. The word “Heaven” showed clearly on the screen.
    What the…?
    He pushed the talk button and held it to his ear. “Yeah?”
    “Can I come back now?” The British accent from his recent guest was as clear as the headache starting to grind at the back of his head.
    “I don’t know who you are, or what your game is, but if you come anywhere near me, so help me God, I’ll—”
    “Ay, there, hang on. God is trying to help you. Just my bad luck that he sent me to carry out his wishes. Give over, would ya? I won’t be in the way, I promise. I’ll just ride along and maybe warn you to slow down from time to time. You drive like a maniac. You know that, don’t you?”
    Liam hit End and threw the phone into his front seat. First a quick glance in every direction, then he made his way around the car, got back behind the wheel and started the engine. With a squeal, he took off around the next corner, driving like a stuntman in a chase scene.
    That’s it! No more of those pills the doctor gave him. He’d rather have sleepless nights than daytime hallucinations. In a way, he’d be sorry to give them up. The last few