Ghostly Liaison (4 page)

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Authors: Stacy McKitrick

Tags: #vampire, #Stacy, #Me, #Yours, #I'm, #McKitrick, #Paranormal, #Bite, #978-1-61650-637-7, #Sunny, #Mystery, #Ghosts, #My, #romance, #Thriller

BOOK: Ghostly Liaison
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“Yes, but it needs to be cleaned.” Rob’s cell phone played Huey Lewis and the News’s “Working for a Living” and he pulled it out of his jeans pocket. “Excuse me. I have to take this call.”

He stayed inside the house so she explored the yard. The neighborhood was quiet, a surprise living close to the main road. The surrounding homes featured at least one tall tree and bushes lined Rob’s privacy fence. She could picture lying out here in the summer, with no one to see her. The pool was a bonus. It was perfect.

Barnaby whined behind the pool.

“Hey, boy. Is that squirrel giving you a hard time?”

Pain exploded behind her eyes and she doubled over, massaging her temples. Great. She wasn’t but a stone’s throw from Rob and already the headache returned. She closed her eyes.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
It wasn’t working. Maybe she should go back inside and sit. She straightened and opened her eyes.

A woman about her age was standing by the pool wearing blue jeans and a dark red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Straight brown hair reached her waist. Familiar brown eyes stared back. Barnaby walked in circles around her, still whining.

“Hello,” Bridget said. “Should you be here?”

The woman’s eyes lit up. “Holy shit! You can see me?”

What a stupid question. She wasn’t exactly hiding anywhere. The sliding door opened. Bridget turned around and found Rob coming her way.

“So, was it a squirrel?” he asked.

“You have a vis…” The words died on her lips. The woman was gone. There wasn’t any way she could have left without being noticed. Bridget rubbed her temples. Oh great. Now she wasn’t only seeing people who weren’t really there, she was hearing them, too.

* * * *

Charlie waved her hand in front of the blonde’s face. “Hello! I’m right here. You just saw me a second ago.”

No reaction. Almost as if the woman couldn’t see her. But that wasn’t right. Was she playing some kind of game? Why wasn’t she flinching or saying anything?

“I have a what?” Robbie asked.

The blonde looked around. Fear etched across her face. “I…uh…nothing. I thought I saw…”

“Me!” Charlie said. “You saw me. You talked to me. What happened?”

“Bridget?” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Bridget backed away. She’d been rubbing her temples, but now she held her stomach. “Can I look at the rest of the house?”

“She saw me, Robbie! She saw a ghost!” Charlie laughed. Oh man, she cracked herself up.

“Sure.” He took Bridget’s elbow and guided her back to the house.

Charlie crouched to Barnaby’s level. “She did see me, right? Well, you can still see me, can’t you, fella? I just wish I could pet you. I sure miss you, baby.”

The dog wagged his tail and licked, but there wasn’t anything to lick. He would find no solid body to match her image and whined as he ambled through her.

“Barnaby, come.” Robbie whistled and patted his leg. The dog took off.

“That’s right. Go to the living. I’m just a stupid ghost.” Charlie willed herself to the living room and appeared, like a magician’s trick. All she lacked was the cape and hat. Too bad no one could see her. Except maybe this Bridget woman.

Charlie arrived as Bridget and Robbie were walking down the hall. At least Barnaby stayed by her side. “So, Robbie, who’s the cutie? I haven’t seen her around before.”

No reaction. He’d never heard her before, but Charlie kind of hoped maybe Bridget would give something away. But no, the chick was closed tighter than a clam shell. Charlie popped into the bedroom.

Since dying, she’d taken a few days to get the hang of moving around and a couple of months before she managed to venture outside of the house. She never wandered far, though. If someone or something came for her, she wanted to be close to the site of her death. How else would they find her? Problem was—she’d been waiting and waiting and…nothing. Maybe no one moved on.

But if that were the case, wouldn’t she see her parents or other dead people roaming around? Or Nick for that matter?

Man, if she could see Nick, she wouldn’t mind being a ghost.

Barnaby rushed into the room ahead of Robbie, who grabbed onto the jamb. “One of these days he’s going to knock me over.”

“He does seem rather hyper.” Bridget stopped and stared at the destroyed wall. “What happened here?”

Charlie bent over and peered through the hole into the bathroom. She was still shocked over how she’d managed that. Those last tenants had pissed her off with their destruction and the next thing she knew, a chair had flown through the room and embedded in the wall. Certainly scared those guys away. Hell, it had scared her, too.

“I have no idea, but I plan on fixing it first,” he said. “Unless you think having a peephole would be a good rental feature.”

Bridget laughed with him. “I guess it depends on who you rent the house to, but if it’s me, then no.”

Charlie’s chest ached. Robbie hadn’t laughed in this house since before her death. It sounded good. Was he interested in Bridget? Were they dating? They did look cute together. God, she hated not knowing anything anymore.

But if they were dating, why the tour? Maybe she was some kind of real estate
mongrel
, as her father had been known to call them. Damn it. Charlie would have kicked something if she could. More strangers in her house. What gives?

“Why didn’t you just sell it?” she asked. “Is that why I’m still stuck here? Because you can’t let go?”

She followed them back to the living room.

“When can I move in?” Bridget asked.

Charlie’s chest lightened. Wait a minute. Bridget was the renter?

Robbie smiled and stepped in close to Bridget. “Tonight if you want.” He pulled a key out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Do you need any help moving?”

Bridget took the key and stepped back. “Thanks, but no. I’ll have my parents drive me over later with my stuff. My mother will insist on seeing the place. But she won’t talk me out of this. Consider me your house sitter.”

House sitter, huh? Bridget would certainly be an improvement over the other renters Robbie had found. Not that he was totally to blame. Those idiots had been there for one purpose. But Bridget was different. Charlie pumped her fist in the air. Finally. Someone to help put Carl away.

Life, death,
undeath
, whatever—it was starting to look brighter.

* * * *

Rob drowned in the depths of Bridget’s eyes. The more he stared at her, the more beautiful she became. And now he’d be seeing her on a regular basis and his heart soared.

But was he scaring her away? Every time he got close, she backed off. Was that why Kate told him to stay away? Guess he would just have to bide his time. He didn’t need to fix the house that quickly. It was paid for and money wasn’t an issue. No, this summer project would be more than fixing an old house. If he came by all the time, she’d eventually become comfortable in his presence, then maybe they could get to know each other better.

“Want to grab a bite before I take you home?”

She smiled. “As tempting as that sounds, I better not anger my mother any more than necessary. I’m sure she has dinner ready.”

A twinge of disappointment settled over him. Oh well, it’d been worth a shot. There were other nights.

“Maybe another time.” He held the door open for her and Barnaby and then locked up once they were all outside.

“Hey, Rob! You here to give me the tour?”

Crap. The tour had slipped his mind and Bridget had filled the gap and then some. Rob smiled and waved at Murdock as the old man ambled his way across the yard, walking in a slow determined pace. His wiry gray hair bristled in the breeze.

“I’m sorry,” Rob whispered to Bridget. “I’ll try and make it brief.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Guess it won’t hurt to meet the neighbors.”

When Murdock reached the porch, Barnaby gave him a royal sniffing of a greeting. “Hey there, boy. Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

“Mr. Murdock, this is Bridget Quigley. She’ll be staying here while I fix up the place.”

Murdock held out his hand. “Well how do you do? Aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

Bridget took the offered hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Murdock.”

“Call me Henry, please. I’m tired of feeling like an old man.”

She laughed. “Okay, Henry.”

Henry?
Murdock had never suggested Rob call him Henry. And what was with the lingering hand holding? She was young enough to be his granddaughter. Jealousy pricked at Rob.

“Were you a friend of Charlie’s?”

She glanced at Rob. “Who’s Charlie?”

Of course she wouldn’t know who Charlie was. Kate had never mentioned his sister’s name. But before he could explain, Murdock saved him the breath.

“Charlene Gentry, Rob’s sister.”

“Oh. No, I never had the pleasure.”

The old man continued holding Bridget’s hand, even brought the other to join it. Rob gritted his teeth. Why did he get this urge to pull the old man off her? Murdock was only being Murdock.

“She was something. I think you would have liked her. Rob, did you know she used to stop by every day just to check up on me?”

Staring at their linked hands, Rob forced himself to look up once Murdock included him in the conversation. “She did?”

“Well, she wouldn’t admit to checking up on me. She always had some flimsy reason. ‘Mr. Murdock, did you know your hose is out?’ or ‘Mr. Murdock, did you know your garage was open?’” he said with a feminine twang. “I saw through her, though.” He released Bridget and lowered his head. “I should have known something was wrong that day. She never came by. I sure do miss her.”

Damn. Guilt came crashing down on Rob. Murdock wasn’t acting crazy to get attention. He just missed Charlie and their friendship.

* * * *

Bridget stared at Henry and her heart went out to him. He was lonely. Maybe she could make a habit of visiting him. It certainly couldn’t do her any harm, and she might get a new friend out of the deal.

“So what kind of tour was Rob going to give you?” she asked.

Henry dismissed her with a hand gesture. “It doesn’t matter, I suppose, seeing as how you’ll be living here now. But if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to stop by.” He held his hand out to Rob. “I’ll let you kids go on. Good night.”

Rob took the offered hand. “Good night, Mr. Murdock. Thanks for all your help.”

Henry waved and left. Intent on the old gentleman, Bridget hadn’t realized how close she stood beside Rob. His mere presence not only made her head pain-free, but it made her heart rattle. He made no effort to back away. Was he hoping to get in her pants? She probably wouldn’t have hesitated before… Ah, hell. Now she sounded like her mother. Still, she might look fine covered up, but no way would he want the real her. She would hate herself for blowing this great opportunity, but she couldn’t lead him on.

She walked to the truck and opened the door before he had a chance. Barnaby hopped inside. Rob circled the front of the vehicle and climbed in behind the steering wheel.

“So, where am I taking you? I assume your parents live someplace close to where I found you this morning?” Rob turned the ignition and the truck roared to life.

She buckled the seat belt, tugged the latch, and took a deep breath. Here went nothing. “Before we go, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, shoot.” He flashed that perfect smile her way. Damn, if she didn’t watch herself, she’d give him anything and that wouldn’t turn out well.

“What are you expecting to get out of this relationship?”
Relationship? Shit!
That hadn’t come out right.

“Relationship?” His brow furrowed in confusion.

Shit, shit, and double shit. She was wrong, wrong, wrong. Her fragile ego deflated. He wasn’t interested in her. Why had she thought otherwise? “I mean, you have Mr. Murdock watching your place. Why do you need a house sitter?”

“Oh. Well… If you must know, I hadn’t even thought of one until today.”

“It was Kate’s idea, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but—”

“I’m not a charity case. If you don’t really need a house sitter—”

“But I do. She did me a favor in suggesting it. Mr. Murdock has been driving me crazy. I don’t think his eyesight is what it used to be, and he’s been calling me every day. With you living here, maybe he won’t be looking for things to be wrong. If you don’t move in, I might be forced to get an actual house sitter, because I’m not quite ready to sell the place.” His voice cracked at the end and he turned his head away.

“You were close to her, weren’t you?”

“Not close enough, apparently.” He rubbed Barnaby’s head.

She wasn’t going to pry. Everyone had their own demons to slay. “Well, as long as you really need a house sitter…”

“I do.”

Feeling confident that he’d probably get one anyway if she didn’t agree, Bridget gave him her address. So what if the attraction went only one-way. It was what she wanted, wasn’t it?

 

 

Chapter 4

 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay here by yourself?” Bridget’s mother peeked into the bathroom, avoiding the walls, as if her white blouse and peach slacks would become contaminated. Her eyes widened.

“Now, Mona. Bridget’s a big girl.” Bridget’s dad placed an arm around Bridget’s shoulders and gave her a reassuring shake. “It’s not like she’s in another state.”

Standing tall and straight in his green shirt and beige Dockers, he appeared to have stepped off the golf course. He had the body of a younger man—thanks to his daily morning run—and if not for the shock of white hair, no one would guess he had ten years on her mother. Bridget loved her father dearly and not because he usually took her side. If she misbehaved, he would be the first one on her case. But Mom loved to worry for worry’s sake and he did his best to balance the scales.

“Owen, there’s a hole in the bathroom wall.”

“Rob said he would fix that first,” Bridget said.

“What does it matter anyway?” he said. “She’s living here by herself. Who’s going to see?”

Mom trudged into the living room, shoulders down in defeat. Damn her, but she was good. Her actions always managed to cause Bridget’s chest to constrict with guilt. And who was to blame? Bridget, of course. One of these days she would grow a backbone.

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