Chapter 9 - The Ghost Of Aaron Reed
Dean drove to the downtown bookstore where Aaron Reed had supposedly worked before passing away the previous winter. The storefront was dark and abandoned, a dusty "For Lease" sign hanging crookedly across the large glass window.
He walked next door to a small neighborhood diner, sliding into a vinyl booth and ordering a black coffee from an older waitress. “Excuse me,” Dean said as the waitress set the mug down on the formica table. “Do you remember Aaron Reed?”
The waitress paused, wiping the counter with a damp rag before looking up with a sympathetic expression. “Sure I do, poor kid. Worked long hours at the bookshop right up until his heart gave out last December.”
May you like
Dean felt a cold chill run down his spine. “Did he... did he have any family left in the area?” “Just an older sister who flew in from Chicago to pack up his apartment,” the waitress replied, pouring him a refill. “Why do you ask? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I think he left something behind,” Dean said quietly, staring into the dark surface of his coffee cup. The ghost of Aaron Reed stood between him and his wife, a permanent specter that could never be punched, yelled at, or sued.
