“Yes.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know what to think yet,” Dillon told her truthfully. “I’m trying to find out more about the man. There are a lot of rumors, but if you go through public documents and legal records, you can get a feel for someone. He’s rich. He owns a casino. Whether he’s really played it rough and created a few financial corpses along the way, or gotten in with the wrong connections, who knows? He doesn’t trust anyone.”

“It doesn’t sound as if you like him much.”

“Do you?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “I don’t know him. I’ve seen him on the news, but I’ve never actually seen him in person. It’s unlikely I would have any cause to meet him, unless he suddenly decided to bring in a pack of little kids.”

He sipped his tea, not wanting her to see him smile at the thought of how well she dealt with children. It was nice. Although, admittedly, he found himself so entranced by her that she might have said that lap dances were her thing and he would have found a way to find that nice, too.

Mai returned to the table, and to Dillon’s pleased surprise, Jessy looked at him hesitantly and asked if it would be all right if she and Mai decided on their order. He grinned and told her to go right ahead.

Jessy seemed to be relaxing. She was at least sitting all the way back in the booth now.

“It must be difficult for you,” she mused, sipping her tea after Mai had left again. “Emil Landon certainly has a past, maybe a lot of enemies. And Tanner Green—from what I saw on the news, he had a past, as well. It does seem strange that a man as big as he was went down without a fight. You have to get close to use a knife.”

She looked thoughtful as she spoke. Dillon wondered if she was disturbed or just stating facts.

“It suggests that he was with someone he trusted,” Dillon said. “Also, in a place as densely populated as a casino, it’s easy to get close to someone without them noticing. But he might have been stabbed before he even got to the casino. Not enough evidence yet to be certain of much.”

She gave a little shudder and offered him a rueful smile. “I feel guilty saying this, but it’s reassuring to think that someone wanted Tanner Green dead. It’s better than thinking there’s a killer out there, seeking victims at random.”

“It’s more comforting, yes,” Dillon agreed.

The meal arrived, and Dillon thought he had passed muster, because Jessy introduced him to Mai as a friend. Jessy had ordered two dishes, one chicken and one beef dish, one Cantonese and one Mandarin, and both were delicious. There were a few precious moments when the food first arrived that felt almost like being on a regular date. But she hadn’t agreed to go on a date with him; she’d agreed—reluctantly—to see him because he needed to talk to her. She didn’t dislike him, he was pretty sure, but she seemed determined to create a wall between them, and she apparently hoped that he would stopped banging on the gate.

But they couldn’t talk about food forever, and finally he brought the subject back to Green’s death.

“I don’t know what you think I can tell you,” she said, staring at him while he chewed a piece of beef.

“I think that there’s something. Maybe in your subconscious. Something you don’t think is important or even realize you know, but it might just be the clue that changes everything.”

She set down her fork and leaned toward him. “I can’t help you. A man I had never seen before stumbled through the crowd, fell on me and died on top of a craps table. You know I didn’t know him, that it happened just the way I’ve described it, and just that quickly.”

“He spoke to you,” Dillon said quietly.

Her instant frown of surprise and confusion was definitely real. Had she forgotten? Was the information he needed actually buried in her subconscious? She sat back, thinking. “We didn’t carry on a conversation,” she told him.

“I saw the security tapes. His lips moved.”

“He might have whispered something,” she said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. He was dying. He could have said anything. I don’t remember. All I remember is the feeling of being trapped, the horror of realizing that he was bleeding to death on top of me. And those are images I would just as soon forget.”

He couldn’t let it go at that, even though he sensed that this wasn’t the time to push her. She knew what Tanner Green had said, either consciously or subconsciously, but for now, he had lost her. Time to change the subject.

“How was your grandfather last night? Everything okay?”

“Yes, thank you very much.” She stared at him. “Timothy is…slipping,” she said, as if she thought the idea might frighten him away.

“I’m sorry. Is it Alzheimer’s?”

“He’s just slipping…that’s all. He’s fine, he takes care of himself, he just…he just needs to be watched. He has his moments. He’s functioning. He knows me, and he knows the people who care for him.” She hesitated. “He actually lives in a home, but he loves it because he has a wonderful doctor, and the people there are terrific.” Once again she hesitated, as if saying more than she wanted, but spilling it out anyway. Maybe it was still an involuntary attempt to scare him away. “My folks died when I was young. Timothy raised me. I love him to death, but I can’t work and keep him at home. He forgets things on the stove, and he talks to friends in the walls and in the sky.”

“As long as they’re friends, it sounds as if it’s all right to me,” Dillon said lightly.

“I have friends who can help me out when he’s home,” she said, toying with the food on her plate.

“You were gambling last night to pay for his home, weren’t you?”

Her gaze shot over to him, and she shrugged. “It’s extremely expensive to get old in this country, you know.”

“I do know. I’ve seen it many times. I’m glad the numbers came in for you. I didn’t get the impression that you gamble that often.”

She laughed. “I pretty much never do. I grew up here, went to school here, and now I work here. Timothy is the only family I have left. I have friends, of course, and I love working with kids. There you have it. My life. Let’s hear about yours. Rumor has it you’re a secret agent of some sort. So what’s the truth?”

“Hardly a secret agent,” he said, hiding his surprise that she’d been talking to someone about him. “It’s certainly no secret that I’ve been hired by Emil Landon.”

“But that’s not what you usually do,” she said flatly.

“I’m basically a free agent—licensed, of course,” he said. “These days I work for a business called Harrison Investigations, headed by a man named Adam Harrison who hires people from around the country—around the world, actually. My roots are here, though. My folks are gone, but I have family who live not too far away. The case came up, Adam suggested I take it, so here I am.”

“Why?”

Dillon hesitated. Why? Because the ghost who hangs around with me wanted me to take it, and Adam thinks if a ghost has a feeling about something, it needs to be looked into.

“I’m not exactly sure,” he said. That much, at least, was honest.

“Does your family live on reservation land?”

“Some of them, and some on private.”

“Why is your employer so secretive, and what are all the jobs he supposedly does for the government?” she asked.

“Adam’s been called in over the years to investigate various crimes, some of them federal, and he’s cultivated a lot of contacts in the various law enforcement agencies around the country. I don’t know everything about him, or even about my fellow agents or the cases they’ve worked. Sometimes a few of us work a case together, and sometimes things are handled on a smaller and more personal scale, and they’re settled. There’s nothing undercover about us, though Adam doesn’t seek publicity. And he chooses our cases carefully, or sometimes a particular investigator chooses a case, that’s all.”

“But Adam Harrison suggested you take Emil Landon’s case. And I think that’s interesting,” she said. “Why do you suppose he chose the case of a powerful man who has lots of money but, from what I hear, few scruples?” The question was a challenge, he thought. She sounded as if she wanted to find out that there was something not quite legit about him.

“I don’t know yet. Hopefully, by the time I get to the bottom of things, I will. So far, I’ve met Emil Landon and his retinue, and now one of his bodyguards is dead—a death you were involved in through no fault of your own. That’s why I can use all the help I can get.” He watched her eyes, her face, hoping for a sign of trust. The slightest possibility that she might admit to seeing a ghost.

Nothing.

Instead, she stood suddenly. “Forgive me, but I’m exhausted right now. I’ll think about it. I’ll try to remember if he said anything, but as I said…I never saw the man before. Technically I work for Emil Landon, too, but I’ve never met him, either. I’m sorry.”

She started to walk away, then returned, blushing. “I forgot. The check—”

“Please. I asked you to meet me.” She blushed harder, as if she didn’t want him to get the impression they were on a date. “Consider it a business expense. Our mutual boss will pay it.”

He watched her go, torn. He wanted to follow her through to the garage and make sure she got into her car okay. Whether she knew it or not, she was being followed by Tanner Green, and though Dillon was certain the specter had no intention of doing her harm, someone had murdered the man, she had been there when he died, and that meant she could be in danger, too.

“I’m on it, sagebrush,” Ringo said.

Dillon had actually forgotten about the ghost’s presence. But now Ringo followed Jessy Sparhawk from the restaurant, the barely perceptible jingle of his spurs and the slight breeze of his passing causing frowns of confusion as he passed.