P. Alderman - Haunting Jordan

“And it is?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was at a party in Beverly Hills, hosted by the producer of the next film I’m starring in.”

Jordan shot a curious glance at Ted, but he had his back turned to them, talking to his band members. He’d indicated to Jordan just yesterday that Didi was on vacation. “I thought you were taking some time off from your career?”

“You can’t believe everything you read in the newspapers, darling.”

Jordan thought she detected a hint of anger behind Didi’s reply. So Ted had been at least partially correct—the press had had a field day with the news of Didi and Ryland’s breakup.

The actress flicked ash on the floor, her expression bored. “Look, why don’t you just confess and be done with it? We all know you resented the fact that Ryland cheated on you. That the only reason you’d been so accommodating during the divorce was because you thought you were going to take him to the cleaners. I’ll bet you got the shock of your life when you realized the lawsuits would eat up that nice settlement you’d been fantasizing about.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were attributing the kind of motives you would have to my actions.” Jordan kept her tone mild.

“I loved Ryland,” Didi shot back. “I would never have done anything to hurt him.”

“Oh, for …” Jordan gave up, letting her irritation rule. “Get a clue. The man you fell in love with screwed his way through half his patient list! You’ve got serious self-esteem issues if you think he could’ve ever been any good for you.”

“How could you possibly understand anything about me? You killed your husband because he cheated on you!”

Ted turned to look at them, his expression alarmed.

“I’m a therapist—I see women like you all the time,” Jordan retorted. “You can’t sustain a loving relationship because you’ve never worked through your childhood abandonment issues. Trust me, I get that. But self-regulation does not translate to dating every father figure you happen to cross paths with.”

“Well, you would know, now, wouldn’t you?” Didi taunted. “You were married to the man for seven years! If anyone had daddy issues, it’s you!”

“Excuse me?”

“Jordan, calm down,” Ted said, looking shocked. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“I’ve had a particularly trying day,” Jordan snapped. “And I’m losing patience with needy, dysfunctional people who think they can mess with my life by feeding false information to the police!”

“Whoa,” Ted’s bass player murmured, looking up from applying rosin to his bow. “Catfight!”

Didi screeched and lunged for her.

Jase wrapped an arm around Jordan’s waist and pulled her behind him, removing her from the reach of Didi’s manicured claws. “Get your girlfriend under control,” he told Ted, fending her off, “or I’m throwing her out.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Ted said, and Didi howled. He grabbed both her arms. “Be quiet!”

“Get counseling!” Jordan shouted over Jase’s shoulder, blocked from moving any closer.

“You’d be the last therapist I’d call, you murderous bitch!”

Jase planted his hands on Jordan’s shoulders, turning her toward Darcy’s table and pushing her across the room. “I’ve got JT verifying her alibi,” he said in a tone only Jordan could hear. “If she’s lying, he’ll figure it out.”

“Oh, she’s lying all right,” Jordan growled, dragging her feet. “I’m trained to know when someone is lying.”

“I’m sure you are. You might want to dial back on the ‘proactive’ just a bit, though,” he advised, a thread of laughter running through his voice.

Angling a glance up at him, she saw that he was grinning. Great .

She dropped into her chair, her cheeks heating as she realized the scene she’d caused. “I can’t believe I did that.” What was the matter with her? She’d never used her training in such an inappropriate and damaging way. Yes, she cared that Ryland’s murderer was found, but still …

“You did have ample provocation,” Darcy pointed out, then grinned as well. “And though you are so terminally nice it makes my teeth hurt, the entertainment factor is way up there. Listening to the trio this evening will be anticlimactic.”

“Cute.” Jordan ventured a glance around the room, noting the number of covert stares aimed her way. “And I’m not nice, I’m tough as nails.”

“Right.”

“Oh, shut up.” She concentrated on her breathing.

Jase set another full glass of wine before her, then gave her a quick shoulder rub. “Drink up. In a little bit, you won’t feel a thing.”

“That would be good.” She took a large gulp. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t expect it to get that out of hand.”

Jase looked amused. “No problem. The pub is getting quite the reputation. Business is bound to pick up.”

“Ha-ha, funny.” But she noted that during her talk with Didi, the room had become twice as crowded. “Though I like the way you let folks simply hang out, that you don’t force them to buy drinks to be here,” she added.

He exchanged a confused look with Darcy. “Come again?”

“All the people who’ve been coming to the jazz performances and just hanging out.”

They glanced at each other again, then Jase shook his head, clearly not understanding her.

“All the people standing around by the entrance? At the bar?” She wondered whether the two of them were particularly oblivious this evening.

“There aren’t any people standing by the entrance,” Darcy said, her expression becoming intrigued. “Exactly what do you see?”

Jordan felt a chill. “Oh, no.” She shook her head. “No, no, no. Do not pull that crap on me—I’ve had a bad day.”

“What do you think you see?” Jase repeated.

She turned toward the entrance, counting the patrons that stood there. “A couple dozen people, mostly men in work clothes, crowded just inside the door.” She’d had a fleeting impression that their clothes were a little odd, but her mind slid away from that fact. “Right?” she asked a little desperately.

Darcy grinned. “Hey, Tom!” she shouted, waving him over, and Jordan watched him walk right through several “people” standing next to the bar.

She closed her eyes and laid her head down on the table.

Jase rubbed her back with one hand. “It’ll be all right,” he said, chuckling. “To tell you the truth, I’ve always wondered whether there were any ghosts hanging around in here. It’s an old building.”

“There are ghosts in here?” Tom turned in a circle, scanning the room.

Jordan thudded her head against the hard surface of the table.

It all began to sink in—the little girl with the antique doll, the elderly couple in the porch swing, the young man on the old-fashioned bicycle. The woman in the cape leaving the grocery that first night. Half the people she’d seen in the damn town!

Darcy was having a look around herself. “So what are they doing?”

Jordan quickly glanced up, then laid her head back down. The table’s cool surface was such a comfort. “Hanging out, talking to each other? Listening to the music? I don’t know.”

“I wonder if they like my selection of bands,” Jase said.

“What do you suppose they want?” Tom asked her.

“How the hell should I know? You want me to go take a poll? First, I’d have to poke each one with a finger, just to make sure I’m talking to a ghost, which could be a bit embarrassing to explain to the humans I accidently poke …” Her voice trailed off as she realized the import of what she was saying. “Oh, God—I can’t tell the difference,” she wailed, mortified. “They’re everywhere , and they all look just like real people to me.”