Her father stared at her from by the window. She hung up the phone.
"Well done." He said, his arms folded in front of him. "Especially for someone who doesn't want to be a 'hero'."
She shrugged.
"TV news is calling you a 'vigilante'."
She sighed. "Why can't they just call me a 'helper' or 'police assistant'?"
He laughed.
"'Vigilante' makes me think of Punisher or those guys in Kick-Ass."
"Same thing." He said.
She shrugged and got up to answer the door, took her tray from the bellhop, handed him a buck and kicked the door shut.
"You're doing a good job 'assisting' the police." Her father commented.
She sipped her coffee, dipped a bite of beignet into it. She smiled.

Her father found them a ghost tour. It was a few blocks from the hotel so they walked.
She listened to some music so as to ignore her ghost of a father. He was like a kid in a candy store though. She could hear his comments over the music. "Do you think they'll be able to see me? I bet it won't be scary."
She just walked on in silence.
They arrived, she paid for her ticket. The crowd contained 7 other tourists of various sizes. She mostly ignored them and pulled her sweater tighter. "Should have worn a disguise." Her father suggested.
She stuck out her tongue.
"Welcome to the ghost tour, ladies and gents!" The orator gave a bow, he had long dreadlocks. She noted that various beads, bones and trinkets were interwoven within them. He wore a flowing cape with glow in the dark stars.
He started the group along. "Now if the 9 of you will follow me."
She looked around, "9?"
Her father shrugged.
They stopped at a cemetery and waved, "behold, our first ghost your stop, a spooky graveyard, known to be inhabited by countless ghosts, including the world renowned Marie Laveau! You can see her resting place there, if you listen you can hear her!" He held his hand to his ear and leaned.
The crowd heard a "woo!" and a rattle of chains. This was followed by the sound of someone tripping and a "ghost" landing near them on the path.
"Oh my gosh! A ghooooost!" Their guide said, helping his partner up. "Now let's continue on."
The group followed him. His partner had wandered away after dusting himself off.
They walked past several buildings which he pointed out were home to a number of other spirits.
They came to a building with a balcony. "Oh lady in white, show yourself to my guests!" He called to the balcony.
Just then a white dog on a leash barked and made everyone jump.
Her father laughed aloud. "There she is!" He yelled from the back.
The guide turned their direction. He laughed, "well not exactly the lady in white I was looking for." He waved to the woman walking the little white dog and they proceeded on his partner out of breath by the corner of the building in a white dress.
The group laughed and kept going.
They had one more stop before returning to their starting point. It was in Jackson Square.
The guide pointed to Muriel's and proclaimed it to be home to one Pierre Antoine Lepardi Jourdan. "They leave a table set for the old boy so he can continue to have his meals." His partner sprinted up, still in the white dress, curtsied to the crowd.
"He needs to shave his legs." Her father whispered.
The ghost Jourdan took a seat at a table that was set up with a white cloth and proceeded to make the table "float" with his knees. The group laughed and clapped.
Her father leapt to the top of the table for a quick Russian dance then leapt down.
The guide's jaw was on the ground, the rest of the group was oblivious.
He regrouped, thanked the assembled tourists and sent them on their way with a line about "enjoy the gator!"
He turned to her and her father.
"Au chanté" he said, "so you came."
She nodded. "Got lucky this was your ghost tour."
"Come, we have much to discuss." He gave a wave with his hand walking to the other end of the square. "You too, papa ghost."