Love Your Entity(17)

“He and Damon started unloading my U-Haul without even asking me if I needed their help.”

Zoe frowned. “Didn’t you need their help?”

“Yes, but—”

“They’re not the type to wait for permission to do something.”

“Yeah, I got that impression.”

“I suspect Ronan is the same way,” Zoe said.

“I agree.”

“Let’s get back to you. Can you tell me what you’re working on now?” Zoe asked.

Sierra took a sip of her latte before replying, “I’m writing another Nicki Champion book. This one involves Chicago history during Prohibition.”

“In that case, you should speak to Pat Heller. He owns Pat’s Tats a few doors down. Oh look, there he is now.” She tapped the front window and waved at a man with a gray ponytail wearing a gray sweatshirt that said GOT BRAINS?

The man came inside.

“Pull up a chair,” Zoe invited.

As he did so, Sierra noticed that he had tattooed symbols on the back of his fingers.

“This is Sierra Brennan. She’s a published author and she just told me that her work in progress involves Chicago history during Prohibition. I said you were the guy to talk to about that.”

“Are you interested in that time period?” Sierra asked.

“I’m interested in all periods of history,” Pat said.

“She’s moved into the house next door to me,” Zoe said. “I told her it’s rumored to be haunted.”

“Do you know its history?” Sierra asked Pat.

“I believe the story is that a member of Al Capone’s gang lived there,” he said.

“I heard a rumor that the upstairs may have been used for prostitution,” Sierra said.

“A house of ill repute?” Pat paused. “Well, Capone was certainly into prostitution as a means of income, along with bootlegging illegal liquor among other things.”

“Do you happen to know the name of the alleged Capone gang member?”

“Hal something or other. Hal … Bergerstock.”

Great. At least she now had a surname. Sierra made a mental note.

“Al Capone may be famous but he isn’t the only historical figure in Chicago. I’m not a big fan of his but I am a fan of Bertha Palmer,” Pat said. “She lived around the turn of the century. The turn of the twentieth century not the twenty-first. Her husband built the Palmer House Hotel for her. It burned down two weeks later in the Chicago Fire.”

“I did consider having a ghost from that time period,” Sierra said. “I still might for another book.”

“Much of the city was burned to the ground. But it’s one of the reasons Chicago is now famous for its architecture. Those buildings had to be rebuilt, and they used new technology to do so. New to that time period anyway. Steel and concrete. The Palmer Hotel was rebuilt and promoted as the first fireproof hotel. The gala balls put on there were really something.”

“You make it seem like you were there at the time. That’s a real talent. I’m guessing your family has lived in this area for a long time?”

“A very long time,” Pat said.

“That must be nice,” Sierra said somewhat wistfully. “We never stayed in one place very long. It meant I got to see a lot of the country but I’ve always tried to imagine what it must be like to have deep roots to one place.”

“One of the ghosts in your first book has very deep roots to one place,” Zoe said. “A funeral home, wasn’t it?”

Sierra noticed a flash of suspicion cross Pat’s face before it was gone. Instead he sounded calm as he asked, “What made you choose that location?”

Sierra shrugged. “I heard him say that’s where he was. I write a character-driven book. They’re real to me. I’ve often said if I could teach them how to type I’d be in great shape.”

“Your characters are real?” Pat said.

“Obviously they aren’t really real,” Sierra said. “I write fiction.”

“Why ghosts?” Pat asked.

“Why not?” Sierra said. She’d heard this question before.

“How do you do your research?” he asked.

Another common question, but something about the way he asked it was new.

“The same way other writers do. Research books and the Internet,” Sierra replied.

“Do you have any paranormal skills yourself?” he added.

Again, not a new question.

For some reason she didn’t give her standard reply of no. Instead she said, “Maybe.”

“Really? Do tell,” Pat said.

Sierra vehemently shook her head. “I was just kidding.” What was wrong with her? Why had she said that? Granted, she hadn’t confessed she spoke to dead people but she’d left the door open.