Ghost for Sale (13 page)

“Are you comfortable with me picking you up?”

Second date, but the third evening I’d spent time with him. “Yes, I am.” I rattled off the address.

“I’ll see you at six.”

I hung up and glanced at Liam, then pulled back onto the road, wondering what had brought that pensive expression to his face.

“Are you going to tell him about me?”

The question hung in the air between us.

“No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“You told him you were writing a paper and that you’d tell him all about it tonight.” His voice held a strained quality. He stared straight ahead.

“Liam, my dad always says if you have to lie, stick as close to the truth as possible. You’ll be less likely to get tripped up.”

“I like your father. He’s a good man. He reminds me a bit of my da.” Like a kid, he stuck his arm out the window to catch the wind.

“If I ever did write a piece on you, would you care?” I hadn’t thought of it as a possibility till now.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s one thing for your family and friends to know your history. It’s another to be splashed across the front pages of a newspaper.”

“Well I don’t think getting on the front page need be a worry, but I get your drift.” I swallowed my disappointment. Depending on the ending, it could have made a lovely story. And I was determined this story would have a happy ending.

“If it’s important to you, girl, you know I’d never stand in your way. Why should it matter to me anyhow? It’s not as if I’ll be around to read it.”

Not be around? My gut knotted. My hands clenched the steering wheel. The link between us was intensifying. How else did he know I now wanted to publish his story? I must not have done a good job of hiding my disappointment.

His expression was pensive, his eyes sad. As soon as he saw me watching him, he smiled. I swear the sun could take lessons from him on brightening a landscape. “So, we’re going on a picnic. It will be nice being outdoors.”

“Yes, it will.” Grin
.
If Patrick only knew.

The phone rang again, and Liam moved it hastily out of my reach. “I’ll see who it is.” A young boy, riding on the passenger side of a sedan next to me in the passing lane, bobbed up and down in his seat as he pointed at the floating phone. The car sped by, the driver paying no attention. I gave a commiserating grin at the youngster twisting around in his seat, still pointing.

“That kid will be talking about the floating phone for weeks.” A giggle erupted from my throat.

Liam didn’t respond. The corners of his mouth drooped. Sadness permeated the car. “What’s wrong?”

“I would have liked a family of my own, a son like that little boy, and a daughter.”

“Oh, Liam.” My heart tightened. “You’d have made a wonderful father. I trust when you reach the other side, you’ll be so happy that you won’t think about what you missed.”

“I’m sure that will be the case.” He glanced at the phone. “Your caller was Clayton. That one I won’t miss. But I will miss you, lass.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I’ll miss you too.” I shook off my depression and tried for perky. It was harder than it should have been. “There’s no need to worry about that yet, we still have plenty of time together. We’ve just started investigating.”

“Right.” He reached over and turned up the volume of the radio. Tunes blasted as we rode down the highway. We smiled at each other in perfect accord. Once the initial shock had worn off, Liam had developed a fondness for today’s music. He had a good ear and a natural sense of rhythm. I deduced this by the way he stuck his head and shoulders through the top of the car and danced on the seat. And he thought my cell phone was a distraction when I drove.

By tacit agreement, neither of us talked anymore about Anna, William, or moving to the light. We both just wanted to pretend we were two young people enjoying each other’s company. Who knew how much time we had left?

As we pulled in the drive, my cell rang again. I stifled a groan. “Hello, Clayton.”

“Hi, Cat, how are you?”

“Fine, and you?” I turned off the motor and reached for the door handle. The car door swung open. With a flourish, Liam bowed and motioned me out. I lifted my hand as if I were royalty.

“Your highness.” He bowed lower.

My nose in the air, I swept by him. As he caught up with me, laughter pushed up my throat and burbled over.

“What’s so funny?”

I’d forgotten about Clayton. “Nothing.”

“Do you always giggle about nothing?”

“What do you want?” Impatience had seeped into my voice.

“I thought I’d come over tonight.”

“Sorry, I’ve got plans.”

“What sort of plans?”

“That’s really none of your business.”

“Do you have a date?”

Irritated, I tightened my grip on the phone. “And if I do?” The soles of my sandals clipped against the sidewalk as I paced toward the door, and the spicy scent of azaleas that lined the sidewalk filled the air. A Monarch butterfly fluttered in front of me before it landed on a bush.

“Well, do you?”

If I said yes, maybe he’d stop calling. “Yes.” I held my breath.

“Oh. Anyone I know?”

“That’s none of your business,” I repeated. “You know we’re both free to see other people.” The door opened of its own accord. I didn’t know what I’d do when Liam moved on. I was so used to him opening doors for me I’d probably walk into them.

“Well that’s right,” he sputtered. “But I didn’t realize you’d started seeing anyone since we began dating.”

“Is this a problem for you?” I headed for the kitchen and a cold soda.

“You know I’d be perfectly happy for us to be exclusive if only you’d…”

“Put out,” I suggested helpfully as I grabbed a soda.

“Well, I wouldn’t have put it quite that bluntly, but yes. A man has needs.”

Especially a young, horny one.

“I’ve got no problems with you seeing other women. You know that.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “I’ve got to go.”

“Bye,” I said into the dead phone. I popped the tab and took a deep gulp.

“Why are you still seeing him?” Liam had appeared at my elbow.

I thumped the can on the gleaming counter. “You’ve got to be going with someone to break up with them. Clayton and I aren’t an item. We just occasionally keep each other company. But enough about Clayton. While I get ready for my—er, our—date, I have a job for you.” I headed for the bedroom, soda in hand.

He pulled out a pocket watch and snapped it open with his thumb. “It’s only three o’clock.”

“I need to decide what I’m going to wear, take a shower, fix my hair, put on fresh makeup, and a fresh coat of polish.”

He shook his head.

“Never mind. Only another woman would understand.” I splayed my fingers in front of my face. “I don’t even know what color I want. Or what shoes to wear. Or…”

“What do you want me to do?” Liam interrupted, clutching his hair. “It’s only a picnic,” he muttered.

“Make a list of every guy you can think of who was interested in Anna.” I pretended I hadn’t heard the last comment.

He snorted. “That would be half the men in town.”

“Then the sooner you get started, the better.” I walked into the living room. “Marceee.”

Silence answered. I backtracked to the dining room and found a note on the table that said not to expect her home till late.

The remote floated through the air. “I’ll think better with the television on.” We returned to the living room where he began surfing channels.

I stopped in my tracks and slapped my forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

“When we were at the hotel, I should have asked to see the guest registry.”

“I’m sure that’s a great idea, but why in particular?” His gaze on the television, he sank into the couch and stretched out his legs.

Our link was such I was surprised he didn’t figure it out immediately. “You said you got sucked up with some kind of Ghost Buster paraphernalia.”

“Ghost Buster paraphernalia?” The look he sent me was less than complimentary.

“I should have checked the registry to see if Jonas Bromwell stayed in your room or Anna’s.” Back and forth. Back and forth. I strode in front of the sofa. Liam pulled in his legs so I wouldn’t step on them. “I bet we’ll find he stayed in one room, then made up some story to get in the other, like he’d forgotten his key. It may or may not help us figure out who your visiting spirit is, but it’s another piece of the puzzle.”

“Very clever deduction, but that comes as no surprise. You’re an amazing woman, Caitlin.” His glance lost its censure and his smile warmed me all the way to my toes. One minute he’d been sitting on the couch, the next he stood a breath away from me.

“And you’re an amazing man-ghost.” He was too. Even though he was nineteen and technically still a teenager, the term boy didn’t apply to him. His features were rugged and his eyes held knowledge much older than any nineteen-year-old I knew.

We stared at each other while seconds ticked away. The physical tension between us felt like warm thick butter, and I forgot to breath. Desire stabbed me sharp and strong.

Liam cleared his throat and took a step back, clear across the room. “Well, I guess I better get on that list.”

“Right. And I better polish my nails.” I backed into the couch and sat down abruptly. He swept forward, reached out a hand to help me up, and then dropped it to his side. In his eyes burned the same longing that consumed me. He hurtled backward as I pushed off the couch and hurried to the bedroom. Once there, I shut the door and leaned against it, eyes closed, breathing heavy.

What am I doing? I can’t be falling in love with a ghost.

Shaken, I took a deep breath and decided a bubble bath would be good Zen. I lit candles and sank into water with bubbles to my chin. The tension in my shoulders and neck eased. I had a date with a charming young man. I would help Anna and Liam cross over to the other side. If my heart cracked a little in the process, it would heal. I was almost certain of it.

I soaked till my skin turned pruny and the water cooled. By the time I polished my nails with a coat of Fairy Wing Lilac and figured out what to wear, it was almost six. I’d changed a dozen times, finally deciding on a lavender and white striped shirt and jeans. I grabbed chunky amethyst earrings and headed for the living room just as the doorbell rang.

Before Liam could open it, I hurried to the door.

“You look sweeter than sugar, lass.” He popped up at my elbow. I barely jumped. I was getting used to his appearing-disappearing act. “I like the little lavender straps on your feet. Sandals,” he corrected himself.

“Thank you. Shoot, I don’t have time to change to my lavender shoulder bag. Oh well, my tan canvas will have to do.” Liam wisely said nothing, just shook his head.

I opened the door to find Patrick wearing a Duke T-shirt that had seen better days and scruffy jeans, frayed at the edges, with holes in the knees. One comprehensive look told me they hadn’t come that way from the manufacturer. Why had I spent so long on my appearance? But the smile that lit up his face when he saw me made me decide maybe his clothes weren’t so important after all.

“I know you hear this all the time but you are beautiful.” He placed his hands on the doorjamb and just looked at me, his expression warm and appreciative.

“I feel overdressed,” Liam commented, perusing Patrick much the same as I had a moment ago.

I bit my lips to keep from giggling. Would I be able to maintain a normal conversation with another person when there wasn’t a running commentary from a ghost?

“If it looks like I didn’t make an effort for you, I’m sorry. I had to work on a friend’s car today and by the time I got it up and running, there wasn’t time to throw my clothes in the laundry. This is all I had clean,” Patrick explained.

“We’re just going to the park anyway.”

“Yeah, just pretend I’ve got on a better pair of jeans and a T-shirt without paint stains.” He gave me his endearing quirky smile.

“Done.” I walked out the door, relaxed and at ease with Patrick. “You’re easy to be around and you’re genuine.”

“I try to be.”

“A lot of my crowd isn’t.”

“Huh.” He let the subject drop.

Of course, Patrick wasn’t the only one who’d given me a different perspective on my values and that of my friends. Liam glided along on my other side, a look of disdain on his face. He was looking at Patrick’s car, an older model compact. While not sexy, it was clean and looked to be in good condition. The ghost was becoming a car snob.

“I’d rather take your cousin’s car,” Liam sulked.

“You can’t,” I mumbled.

“Pardon me?” Patrick asked as he and Liam reached for my door.

“You can’t imagine how I’m looking forward to the bands.”

“Oof.” Patrick apparently wasn’t prepared for the ease with which his door swung open. I pretended not to notice as I slid inside the little car.

“It’s got plenty of leg room,” I pointed out to Liam as Patrick walked around to the other side.

“I’d still rather take Marcy’s.” He sat in the back, his arms crossed, his lips turned down.

“I just bet you would.” Whether the male of the species was from the nineteenth or twenty-first century, when it came to boy toys, their response was the same.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Patrick folded his long frame into the car.

“I was just commenting on the leg room in your car.”

“It has to have that.” He laughed. “She’s not pretty, but she’s dependable, low maintenance, and high on fuel efficiency. If she were a woman, she’d be a cheap date.”

Patrick dropped his hand from the key. He twisted in his seat to face me. “If that sounds like I’m a self-serving penny-pincher, I’m sorry. I try not to be self-serving. I do pinch pennies. I plan to go to medical school someday. It’s not cheap.” He quirked his lips and shrugged.

“Can your parents help you?” Paying for my education was a nonissue for me. To think about the kids who had to put themselves through school was humbling, especially when you were talking about years of education.

“They try, but my dad had a bout with cancer recently. They had to get into my college fund to pay the bills.”