Waiting For You (7 page)

He wasn’t about to stop her. Funny how other things had prevented her from staying, almost as if the room had read his thoughts. He glanced around the empty space. The room couldn’t have done anything. He grinned. But perhaps his ghost had.

Chapter 5

The only time Nick could work uninterrupted on the Carlisle case was Saturday. With the other offices closed, he had the building to himself.
And Abby, of course.

He hurried to his desk and switched on the computer. In the past few days, he hadn’t had the time to research her family. Now he couldn’t wait to dig deep and find some answers.

“Abby? Are you here?”

The clock on the wall ticked in silence as he waited. When she didn’t show, he growled and returned his focus on the computer screen. He typed in “
Carlisle Empire, 1912, California.”
Several links popped up, and he clicked on the first one. It was an old newspaper article about Edward Carlisle’s death. Nick zoomed in and enhanced the article to read it better. The piece highlighted Edward’s life and how he’d made his money in the newspaper business. There was a picture of the mansion where he and his only child lived, and the place looked vaguely familiar. Nick wouldn’t be surprised if the mansion still stood today. On another page was a photograph of the very building where Nick sat in his office.

Nick exited that site and clicked on another link, hoping to find out where the money had ended up. After searching three more links, he found what he was looking for. It turned out that Alexander and Julie Carlisle had inherited Edward’s millions.

Nick sat back in his chair and linked his fingers over his chest. “Abby?” he called out loudly. “Wake up. It’s time to start working.”

A white mist appeared in the middle of his office. Abby materialized, as beautiful as she was when he’d seen her last. He wished he didn’t notice how pretty she was, and that he didn’t want to stare into her enchanting eyes all day.

She yawned as she walked closer. “I was sleeping.”

“Sorry to wake you, but we have work to do.”

“I know.”

“I found something on the Internet.
Looks like your father’s newspaper was passed to your uncle and his wife.”

Abby’s eyes widened and she rushed to his side to stand behind the chair. He pointed to the web page still displayed.

“Oh my.
That explains a lot.”

He looked at her over his shoulder. “What do you mean by that?”

“My father’s newspaper made a lot of money. His brother thought he could run it better, which was the reason he had not spoken to my father for many years.
Looks like he didn’t run it better at all.”

“You think your uncle ran it to the ground, then?”

She remained silent for a moment then nodded. “That would certainly explain why new people moved into the building and turned it into a jewelry shop.”

“Now you’re thinking.” Nick gave her a wink.

She chuckled. “Come to think of it, my uncle wasn’t known for using the brain God gave him, so I’m certain this was what happened to Father’s business.”

Nick motioned to the chair across from him. “Sit and let’s write some names. I want to hear about everyone who had something to gain or lose from your father’s death—and yours.”

She breathed a deep sigh before moving away. A slight breeze tickled Nick’s neck.
Did I just feel her breath?
Her intoxicating berry scent was also getting stronger. He shook the thought from his mind—after all, she was still a ghost.

She rested her elbows on the desktop. “Let us start with Uncle Alexander.”

Nick took out a pad of paper and a pen and wrote down the name.

“Uncle Alexander was adopted when my father was in his youth. Father told me that although he treated his brother as flesh and blood, his parents always gave my father special treatment over his brother. Uncle Alexander received the last of everything. When they both moved out of the house and married, Uncle Alexander still competed with my father.”

She rested her chin on her clasped hands, a faraway expression clouding her face. “If I remember correctly, Father and his brother started the newspaper together, but after a few months, my father bought out Uncle Alexander. That was when feelings were hurt and relationships broken.”

“What about his wife?” Nick glanced at the computer screen. “Julie Carlisle?”

“She didn’t come from a wealthy home like my mother, so after Uncle Alexander was cut off from the Carlisle money, he and Aunt Julie had to scrape for money.”

“What happened to the money your uncle received from the buyout? Did he squander it away?”

“That is a good question. I wish I knew. My uncle worked a low-paying job. Aunt Julie didn’t work, because she had a son to
raise
.”

Nick looked up from the computer. “You had a cousin, then?”

“Yes. Anthony.”

“What was he like growing up?”

“Anthony was three years younger than me,” Abby said. “He wasn’t too bright, but then neither were his parents.”

Nick chuckled. “Do you remember any more about them?”

“Not really. As I had explained before, our families were not close.”

“So Anthony would’ve been twenty-two when you died?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm…” He nodded as he rocked in his swivel chair. “What could your cousin have gained from the Carlisle millions?”

“Like I had mentioned before, Anthony wasn’t very smart. His father wanted him to go to college. I would assume he didn’t do well in college with his intellect. I would think it relieved him to have a wealthy father so he didn’t have to work for a living like Uncle Alexander had.”

“Yes, I’m thinking the same thing.” Nick wrote some notes beside Anthony’s name. “Any other relatives I should know about?”

“No. Besides my maternal grandmother, they were the only family I had.”

Nick pushed away from his desk and moved to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room. As he opened the door, he was about to ask Abby if she wanted a drink, but he stopped the words before they left his mouth. How would she drink it?

He grabbed a bottle, unscrewed the cap, and gulped down a fair amount of water, then placed the bottle back in the fridge. “Well, this gives us a start. I’ll start checking into your uncle’s past to see if I can find out what he did with his money while he was alive. Unfortunately, if he killed you, there’s no way to prove it, since he’d have died many years ago.”

Abby stood and walked to him, stopping mere inches away. “I understand. I’m just grateful for your help. There has to be something we can find that will make me cross over. I’m weary of living this nonexistent life.”

Nick lifted his hand to her face. Although he knew he’d feel nothing, he yearned to comfort her somehow. She closed her eyes as his fingers breezed by her cheek. Coolness penetrated his skin, but nothing solid. How he wanted to touch her and have her feel him!

Abby sucked in a breath and jumped back, her eyes widening.
“Oh my.
I think I felt…something.”

“What? You felt me?”

“I think so. My cheek became warm for just a moment.”

His heartbeat kicked up a notch. “Would you like me to touch you to see if it happens again?”

Her face reddened.
“If that is all right with you.”

“Sure. I’m here to help, remember?” He winked.

Once again she closed her eyes. He swallowed hard and slowly moved his hands to her face. Although he didn’t feel anything but cool air, he cupped her head and ran his thumbs along her cheek, down toward her parted lips. Her deep breaths brushed his neck. Unbelievable, but he could feel her in a strange sort of way, too.

Her eyes were closed, but soon the lines around them relaxed and a smile touched her face. A soft sigh released from her throat. “Tell me what you feel,” he whispered deeply, stepping closer.

“Warmth.
And tingles.
It feels like my face is waking up after a deep sleep.”

He slid his hands down her face to her slender neck. She tilted her head back as if she knew what he was doing. Could she feel him? The pleased expression on her face was so real it made his heart leap.

Suddenly, her eyes popped open and a blush reddened her face. She stepped back and folded her arms.

He cleared his throat and stepped behind his desk. “Well, Abby. That was a great breakthrough, don’t you think?”

She nodded, and her body trembled. He groaned inwardly. The more he was with this
woman,
the more he wanted her to be real.

* * * *

Abigail’s chest ached, and she feared she would explode if she couldn’t control her heartbeat. Warm tingles continued to spread throughout her body, especially where Nick’s fingers had touched her.

She hadn’t really felt him, not like she could feel someone’s touch before she died, but the sensations that cascaded over her were definitely real. It was those very sensations that put her mind in a dither. His gaze also distracted her. Those green eyes nearly hypnotized her, and now they were a smoky green, darker than they’d been before. He was having a hard time meeting her stare, but when he did there was so much tenderness in his expression that she nearly crumbled to the floor with happiness.

Abigail shook herself out of the trance his eyes had put her under and walked to the chair on wobbly legs. Lately she’d noticed other things about him besides his eyes. She enjoyed his sense of humor—he’d made her laugh more times than she could count. She also witnessed firsthand the kind way he treated people—even Vanessa, whom he didn’t want to be around. And for a man to give his extra time to a woman—a ghost, no less—who would never be able to pay him for his services, that was the dearest form of compassion he could have shown. Along with being a generous man, he was also very intelligent.

“That was indeed quite a breakthrough,” she said. “It almost gives me hope that I am getting closer to passing over.”

After she’d said it, she realized if Nick made her feel this way all the time, she didn’t want to pass into the next world. She wanted to stay right here with him for as long as she could,
letting
his smile melt her heart.

She sighed gloomily. Why couldn’t she have met someone like him when she was alive?

He sat in his chair and ran his fingers across the computer keyboard as he stared at the bright screen. “Another thing I’ll have to check into is the history of this building. That too might help us with this case.” His voice still sounded deeper than before.

“That is a wise decision. What would you like me to do?”

His gaze moved from the screen to her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Your memory is all I need right now. You’d mentioned earlier that not too long after your funeral different people moved into the building.”

“Yes.”

“Did you recognize any of them?”

“No.” Abigail paused as she thought back. “If my uncle had taken over the newspaper, would I not have seen him here on many occasions?”

“I’d think so.”

“I don’t remember seeing him at all.”

Nick shrugged. “He could have hired others to run the newspaper.”

“Possibly.
But why would he do that? He had been anxious to run it the way he wanted for many years.”

“Very true.”
Nick nodded as he reached for his pen and jotted down more notes on the paper.

“Then again,” she rubbed her forehead, “sometimes when I fall asleep, I don’t awake for several weeks or even months.
Sometimes years.
Perhaps this is why I never saw him.”

“Because several months had passed and he was gone by then?”

“Yes.”

He winked and pointed his pen at her. “That’s using your head, Abby. Good girl.”

Never in her life had a man complimented her in such a way. Most men she’d courted—whenever her father finally allowed it—treated her as if she didn’t have a brain, or didn’t know how to use it. Even her father and his partner at the newspaper had treated her this way. Hearing Nick’s praise delighted her, more than she was prepared for.

Abigail’s heart fluttered with the new feelings and the urge to be close to Nick—to hold him and kiss him—nearly overpowered her. Why was she torturing herself like this? Nothing could happen, not in her ghostly state, and maybe not ever. She rose from the chair and walked to his side. He looked at her, his expression filled with warmth. She tore her gaze away to stare at the screen. “Do you think you could find something about my uncle’s life on this thing?”

He nodded. “I’m sure I can. Do you want to watch?”

“Yes.”

He stood so quickly he would have bumped into her if she’d been real. His face only inches away from hers, Nick stared at her for a few long seconds before confusion darkened his eyes and he turned away. He pulled a chair around the desk and placed it next to his.

She sat first, and he followed. His fingers flew across the keys and a different screen popped up. Even as fascinating as the computer was to Abigail, she still couldn’t keep from gazing at Nick’s face. His jaw was square, his nose straight. Dark brown eyebrows framed his eyes, and his lashes were quite thick for a man’s.

Nick didn’t say a word. No sound emanated from the room except for the soft clicking of the keyboard, much quieter than the clanking of a typewriter in Abigail’s day. She hoped he couldn’t hear her uneven heartbeat over his rapid tapping on the keys.