Ghost a La Mode Read Online Free

to Milo Ravenscroft, the psychic who'd led the seance. It was located in a pleasant working-class neighborhood in Los Angeles that bordered the city of Santa Monica. The streets were narrow and cluttered with parked cars and seemed a million miles away from the manicured streets of Pasadena.
    It had been a disturbing week for Emma. Ever since Sunday night, when she'd had that talk with her father about seances and ghosts, Emma had been sensing shadows moving near her, then dashing away, as if playfully spying on her. And not just at home, but almost everywhere she went. Just as disturbing was the scent of apple pie that always seemed to linger in the air, yet no one else could smell it. She dismissed it all as foolishness, but even so, she'd thrown the rest of the apple pie into the garbage. When she decided enough was enough, she made a private appointment with Milo Ravenscroft. She still didn't believe in the existence of the ghost of Granny Apples but was sure if she could dig deep enough into Milo's motives, perhaps she could prove him a fraud or receive some kind of explanation.
    "Okay," she said to herself audibly. "Just go in there and get to the bottom of this."
    Still, she sat, not making a move to turn off the engine and get out of the car. In spite of it being a warm May day, the car interior grew chilly. Emma felt goose bumps rise on her bare arms and tried to readjust the air conditioning, but it wasn't on.
    "Come on now," she said to herself again. "You're just being silly."
    "Yes, you are."
    Emma whipped her head around to see who was speaking to her, but saw no one. "Great, first I'm talking to myself. Now I'm answering myself. Next, I'll be seeing things."
    "Fraidy cat."
    Unbuckling her seat belt, Emma twisted her head around to get a full view of the back seat and again saw no one. The voice she'd heard had been strong but not loud, like it was being filtered through gauze or whispered on the wind. She tried to convince herself that it was her own subconscious speaking to her and that it only seemed real. With nervous hands, she twisted the top off the water bottle she kept in the console and took a big drink. After all, what was she afraid of? Certainly not a fraud and scam artist. She took another drink and shivered. The inside of the car was getting colder.
    "I told you she wasn't right, Kitty."
    At the sound of the words, Emma sprayed the water in her mouth over the dashboard and windshield of the car.
    "Hush now, Granny. Our Emma's a skeptic, but she'll come around. She always was a smart, courageous girl."
    Emma stared straight ahead out the car's windshield as she replaced the cap on the water bottle with shaking hands. Once more she felt the presence of a shadow but stronger this time, as if the car was stuffed with something she couldn't see but could definitely feel. Something cold and thick and smothering like dense ocean fog or a wet wool blanket.
    "She don't look so good."
    Like lightning, Emma flung open the car door and fled. She stood in the street a few feet away from her car and stared at it. She was still staring a few minutes later when another car came slowly down the street. Emma stepped out of the way but still didn't get near her own vehicle. The other car, an older Honda wagon occupied by a young couple with a toddler strapped into a car seat in the back, stopped and lowered the passenger-side window.
    "Are you all right?" the woman asked Emma.
    Emma slowly moved her eyes from her own car to them. "Yes, thank you." As she spoke, her eyes wandered back toward the Lexus.
    "Are you sure?" The woman spoke slowly as her eyes noted Emma's expensive linen dress, designer shoes, and pearls snuggled at her neck and ears. To her, Emma looked like she should be head ing for lunch at the Bel Air Hotel instead of standing in the middle of their neighborhood.
    Emma turned and looked at the woman and saw that she was staring at her with open curiosity, then realized how crazed she must look. She