“Yeah, whatever,” he said, but Cat didn’t appear offended by his tone.
“It sucks, I get it,” she said. “So we go home and regroup. I’ll try talking to some more ghosts.”
“Because that worked so well the first time.”
“It’s worth a try. Annalisa Jimenez usually hangs out down by Burro Alley. She might have seen something.”
If he recalled correctly, Annalisa was a girl from around the turn of the last century who’d found herself in love with a priest, and hanged herself in her bedroom out of despair. No wonder she was still roaming around downtown, her spirit forever restless.
Rafe reflected that it must really suck to be a ghost.
“Sure,” he said, not bothering to hide the weariness in his voice. “Why not?”
Cat shot him a sideways glance but apparently elected not to reply. She always
