“Whew, sorry about that, my call ran long,” Gabby sets down her phone and tucks her long black hair behind her ear. “You know, there are so many planets in our galaxy alone that our brains physically cannot process the numbers. The ocean is so deep that it hasn't even been fully explored. Yet the most amazing thing in the whole world is how fuckin’ slowly government agencies respond to phone calls. They’re like snails moving through cold peanut butter. When you get them on the line, you can’t let them escape till you get your answers.”

She scoops up her menu and runs her eyes over the options, and I use the opportunity to exchange a glance with Aiden. He’s in a charcoal sweater today, the collar of his white dress shirt settled over it. He looks so different in his work clothes; I’m so used to the soccer-shorts, t-shirt, and snapback ensemble. On the other hand, if I hadn’t already seen Gabby in Kent’s spare pajamas, I’d assume she was born wearing a sleek black pencil skirt with a flowing chiffon top and heels.

She’s the one who picked the restaurant: a little place by City Hall, with a painted green door at the bottom of a set of steps. You would easily miss it if you didn’t already know it was there. There are only three other tables, but all of them are populated. Mostly with people wearing City Hall badges, I notice. Aiden got some friendly waves from people as we walked in. Quiet chatter surrounds us; the air is infused with garlic and paprika, reminding me of my mom’s kitchen.

A waiter joins us. Gabby says something to him in rapid-fire Spanish too quick for my high school level knowledge, and he answers with a bright laugh before taking our menus and heading back towards the kitchen.

“I got us a few favorites. No one has any allergies, I hope? I should have asked first.”

“Strawberries,” Aiden says.

“Strawberries, let me write that down.” She opens her phone, pulls up Aiden’s contact, and begins typing in the notes. “Great! Not an issue with what I ordered. So.” She flips her phone so that the screen is facing the table. “I hope neither of you got sick from diving into a river to pull me out of my car?”

“Thankfully not,” I answer, taking a sip of water. “And Kent’s couch has recovered, too.”

“Excellent. Poor Kent. He was very kind about it, not that I’m surprised. He was the same way when we were in school together. I still can’t believe he has a kid! And a nine-year-old, at that. It’s really been a long time since I’ve been home.”

“Were you two in the same year?” I ask, even though I already know. I’m curious as to why she remembers Kent, and Kent doesn’t remember her. He doesn’t have a bad memory, and he’s got a good eye for details. He notices if I put one wrong plant into someone’s order, and usually from halfway across the store.

“Yes. He didn’t say anything?” Gabby tilts her head to the side, and I hesitate. “Oh, I see. He didn’t recognize me, did he?”

“Oh, no-” I begin right away, and Gabby holds up a hand.

“Don’t worry, Jamie. I actually suspected so after our first conversation. I don’t blame him at all. It’s been quite some time, as I said.” Gabby smiles at me, and I hope that she means it. I’d feel really bad if I just put Kent on blast like an idiot. “We all look different now. But yes, we were in the same year. I remember him and Julia coasting the hallways together. They were the couple in our grade, attached at the hip. How is Julia, by the way? I didn’t get a chance to see her at Kent’s.”

“They split up, actually,” I explain.

“What?” Gabby leans back in her seat, her eyes widening. “But they - wow. I can’t believe that. In high school, they… you just wouldn’t have thought.” She shakes her head. “He didn’t say anything.”

“It’s not a secret, he just doesn’t really like to talk about it.” I notice Aiden is listening with the same interest as Gabby; I suppose he hasn’t heard too much about this, either. He doesn’t even know that the whole reason Kent refurbished the attic was so that he could live up there when he and Julia were trying out a separation. “It’s still raw.”

“How long has it been, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Not too long, just like… a year and a half. Since it’s been official, anyway.”

“Hmm.” I half expect Gabby to take out her phone and enter this info into Kent’s contact, but she merely taps her French manicure on the table thoughtfully. “Well. He’ll get back on his feet, a man like him. Smart, enterprising… running his own business, I hear.”

“You should tell him it’s cool that he doesn’t recognize you, I think he’s been puzzling over it,” Aiden puts in.

“Oh, I - honestly, I don’t know if we ever even talked in high school,” Gabby says.

“Not good friends, then?”

“Well, you know. It’s high school. If they don’t want to see you, they don’t see you.”

I’m not sure what Gabby means by this, and before I can ask, the waiter arrives with three steaming plates. When the food has been doled out, she continues.

“Anyways, I was terribly shy back then. Barely spoke to anyone. Wasn’t quite comfortable with myself.”

“Yeah, I can relate to that,” Aiden says.

I can, too. All three of us, apparently. Gabby looks over to Aiden.

“So. How are the archives? I did some reviewing of City Hall’s records and saw that the position was vacant for years? You must have quite the backlog on your hands.”

“It’s okay.” Aiden shrugs. “I do a mixture of cool old stuff and then recent boring things so I can keep it interesting.”

“Does Ketterbridge have a lot of cool old stuff?” Gabby asks.

“Yeah, I actually brought one in case you wanted to see-” Aiden digs around in his bag and draws out a printed scan of one of the old photographs. He slides it across the table to Gabby, who scoops it up and examines it with interest.

“Wow. This is Ketterbridge? I didn’t realize our history went quite this far back.”

“There are lots more like it,” Aiden answers. “It’s more interesting than people give it credit for.”

“It is,” Gabby agrees, her eyes still on the scan. “Can I keep this? I’m always gathering inspiration for new initiatives, this is - this could be something.”

“Sure. I’m excited for us to get to work together.”

“Me too,” Gabby says brightly, tucking the scan into her bag. “I’m glad to be back.”

“What brings you back after so long away?” I ask, taking a delicious bite of whatever this is that she ordered.

“Ah, well. Doing campaigns has been rewarding, but exhausting. I graduated high school six months early, drove ten hours to California, and went straight to work on my first campaign. I was seventeen. I lied on my paperwork.” She laughs. “You could get away with that, back then. My candidate didn’t win that first time, but I loved it and I just joined another when the first was over. I’ve been doing it ever since. It’s nice, but you get tired of never having a real meal, sleeping in a thousand different crappy hotel rooms, four hours of sleep a night. You do thirteen, fourteen hour days sometimes. Longer, as I got handed more responsibility. I thought it was time for something new, and then I saw the position open back here in Ketterbridge. It seemed kismet, like a sign it was time. It seems like it was the exact right time, now, because if I’d left even half an hour later, you guys might not have been there to drag me out of the river!”

Or Aiden would have come crashing into my apartment half an hour later than he did, but Gabby doesn’t need to know that part of the story. She takes a bite of food and leans back in her seat with a happy sound.

“I missed this place. This is the closest thing to my mom’s cooking I’ve found yet.”

“You’re back now, you can have the real thing, right?” I ask. “I go to my mom’s like every weekend. Not just for the food, but you know.”

“My family moved out of town a few months ago,” Gabby says evenly, nibbling on a chip. “That’s part of why I thought it might be a good time for me to come back.” Her phone buzzes, and she flips it over. “Oh, hang on. That’s the guy I’m hoping will sell us the street lights for the forest roads.” She puts it to her ear. “Michael! How are you? Oh, you saw? Of course, it was my pleasure - no, I can make time. When are you free?” A pause. “I have another engagement right now, actually-”

“Don’t miss it on our account,” Aiden says, holding up his hands. “If it’ll get street lights out there faster…”

“Are you sure?” Gabby mouths at him, and he nods. “Alright, you know what, Michael, I’ll be right there. No, no trouble at all.” She hangs up. “Thanks, guys, I appreciate it. I’m trying to get these street lights on the cheap. I may or may not have sent a team to fill a pothole outside of Michael’s business yesterday.”

“You’ve been in town for like, two days,” Aiden says, and Gabby nods, tossing her napkin on the table.

“Yeah, I’m a little behind. It happens. First week on the job.” She gets to her feet. “This is still on me, okay? You guys finish up. I’ll see you soon!”

Aiden turns to me with an amused expression after the door closes behind her.

“She makes me feel like I’ve done nothing with my life,” he says. “Like, more than I normally do.”

“Well, she might not be here without you, so. You’ve definitely done something with your life.”

He smiles, shakes his head, rolls his eyes.

“What are you doing after this?”

“Nothing, I already worked my shift, the shop is Destinee’s problem for the rest of the day.” I pause. “Are you done? It’s only 5:00.”

“Not yet. You want to come back with me? I have something to show you.”

“The last time you said that, I ended up dangling from a second-story window.”

“No pressure.”

“No, of course I’ll come, duh. Let’s eat, though. Is it weird if I take the rest of Gabby’s food?”

~~~~

Aiden dims the lights in his office, and this time I know the drill. I settle the cotton gloves over my hands, and he does the same. We lean over his desk, the special lamp turned on.

“What am I looking at, Callahan?”

“Photos from the timber industry in old Ketterbridge. Keane.”

It’s weird to hear him call me Keane. That’s what he called me in high school, and I almost forgot how it sounds in his voice. I glance up at him, and he gives me a little smile before turning back to the photo.

“William Clarke died in 1822, before the timber industry really took off. The Gold Rush drove a lot of the timber demand, and companies even this far from it got really big as a result. It wouldn’t happen for over twenty years after William died, so most of the photos from the industry come too late to have him in them. But there are exceptions. At least, I think.”

Kasey would love this. I wish she was here. Aiden slides the photo closer to me, and I pick it up carefully with a gloved hand. There are men at work, constructing some large wooden structure over a body of water.

“This is the construction of the log flume that used to be in the river by the Ghost Office.” Aiden points, being careful not to touch his fingers to the photo’s surface. “The flume was destroyed in a storm years later. I’m pretty sure, though, that that’s William Clarke.”

Aiden’s finger is hovering over one of the figures in the background of the image. I squint and lean closer, trying to get a better look. He’s out of focus, leaning on what appears to be an axe, one hand frozen in the act of wiping his forehead. His fingers all but obscure his face. He’s one of the few without a hat, revealing a mop of light hair.

“Aiden, how the hell could you possibly know that’s him? You can’t even see his face. It’s all blurry.”

“It’s taken a lot of work. He only lived here for one year, thankfully. I’ve only been searching for him in photos from the correct year. Then I eliminated people by whether they showed up in photos from before and after. I know his age, so I eliminated people who looked way too old or way too young. Then I dug through a billion boxes to find records from the company he worked for. There was an incident report for William’s death. An extremely vague one, I might add. The company didn’t want too much light cast on any deaths at its mills, flumes, construction sites… But it did list his specific job title at the company, and I was able to eliminate some people based on their uniforms.”

“Seriously?” I stare at him, flabbergasted. “Holy shit, Aiden. That’s… extremely impressive.”

“It has taken me like, the entire time I’ve been back in Ketterbridge to get this far. This guy right here-” Aiden gestures at the blurred figure again. “He’s the only one who fits the part.”

“Damn.” I’m still getting over the fact that Aiden figured all this out by himself, and while trying to hone his magical skills at the same time. No wonder he always looks so tired. “Well, now we’ll know him when we see him.”

“Actually, I don’t think so. William’s spectral energy is too freeform. I’m pretty sure he’s incorporeal.”

“What? What’s that?”

“It means… he won’t look like a see-through version of himself. He doesn’t look like anything. He doesn’t exist in any kind of visible form. Think of him as… a consciousness, more than anything. Like if your mind existed, but not your body. He can’t do anything but think, see, and hear.”

So, not like Kasey, then. My heart plummets. Did I promise her too much? Is it any less lonely to have a - consciousness floating around you? I mean-

“Can he even communicate?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Aiden says, and my heart plummets further. “Step one after we find him is to make him corporeal again.”

The icy feeling of despair that had been creeping over my body stops.

“How do we do that?”

“I’m going to have to figure out how to do it. With energy.” Aiden sighs and takes the photo back. He slips it between two squares of thin paper and settles it back into its plastic sheeting. “It’s going to be hard. I have no idea how to do it.”

“Maybe the glasses will help us figure it out?” I suggest.

“It’s possible. There’s going to be a lot of trial and error. Thankfully we won’t have to fear killing him by accident.”

“Yeah, that already happened. You said he was crushed?”

“The incident report suggested he somehow ended up in the river. So he was sort of - half-crushed, half-drowned.”

“Jesus Christ!”

“I know. It’s bad.”

“Wait, Aiden-” My stomach drops again. “Do all ghosts become inco- insco-?”

“Incorporeal?”

“Yeah, do they all become incorporeal over time, or…?”

“I don’t think so. This is the only ghost I’ve ever interacted with, but there’s no proof of that.” His eyes narrow. “Why?”

“No reason.” Thank god. “Do you have a scan of the photo? We should bring one to the Ghost Office. Make sure we keep our eyes on the target.”

“Way ahead of you.” Aiden pulls it out of his backpack and shows it to me. “Should we go over there now?”

“Yeah! Let’s go explode some stuff.”

“Just want to reiterate one more time that we are not actually trying to explode anything.”

“Speak for yourself.”