Читать книгу Ghost for Sale - Sandra Cox - Страница 10

Chairs scraped and plates clattered as we raced to the kitchen. Her back pressed against the wall, Vel stared at a gravy boat that sat in solitary splendor on the glistening granite countertop.

“Vel, what’s wrong?” Aunt Janet, barely five-two in her stocking feet, reached Vel first and put her arm around her.

“The gravy boat floated through the air.” Vel’s finger trembled as she pointed at the delicate china.

“Vel, have you been drinking again?” Uncle Leon ran a hand through graying chestnut hair, still thick and wavy.

Liam leaned up against the refrigerator with his arms crossed. “Reflex. She started to drop the gravy boat. I caught it.” He lifted his hands in an “it wasn’t my fault” gesture.

Sure enough, gravy had sloshed over the side and dripped on the counter. “What are you doing here?”

Dad, who stood closest to me, frowned. “What did you say, Cat?”

Liam glanced at Dad, then back at me. “I was snapped like a puppet on a string. One minute, I’m watching the news.” His features relaxed in a sweet smile. “I love your picture box. The next, poof, I’m pulled here. Seems we can’t be too far apart.”

“Cat, what did you say, and why are you staring at the refrigerator?” Dad asked again. His gaze narrowed as he studied me. Dad was an independent reporter, a very good one. He hadn’t won Pulitzers for nothing. When it came to news, he had the nose of a bloodhound. The last thing I needed was my father scenting a story.

My shoulders twitched. Nerves jumped under my skin. “Must be because I’m hungry. What’s the gravy boat doing here instead of at the table?”

“Caitlin Lee, that’s rude.” Mom looked disapproving.

“Sorry, I was just making a joke.” I brushed at a small potato lump on my skirt that had bounced from a spoon when we all made a dash for the kitchen.

“Maybe it was the ghost,” Marcy joked before she clapped a hand over her mouth.

My jaw dropped. Liam and I stared at each other. He recovered first and had the audacity to wink at me. I frowned a warning. Though warning against what was a good question. No one could see him except me, unless he decided to pick up another gravy boat.

Uncle Leon turned to Marcy and sighed. “What are you talking about, darling?”

“Don’t worry, Daddy. I’m getting a full refund,” she rushed to explain.

“Refund?” Uncle Leon’s voice sounded hollow. He tucked his hands in his pants and rocked on his heels.

At least my father had turned his attention from me to Marcy. The twitch between my shoulders eased.

“They had ghosts for sale on eBay, and I was the top bidder,” she explained proudly. Marcy was such a riot.

“And what price did you get them for?” Uncle Leon asked, his eyebrows raised, his lips pursed.

“It doesn’t matter. I sent them back. They were empty test tubes, and one of them was broken.” She looked aggrieved. “The money should be back in my account next week.”

“How much?” Though still calm, he’d developed a tic in his left cheek. Oh, dear.

“Only six.” Marcy smiled brightly and brushed at her skirt.

“Six what, Marcia?” Uncle Leon only called her Marcia when he was on the verge of a meltdown.

Marcy cleared her throat. “Six thousand.”

“You spent six thousand dollars on broken test tubes?” His low voice carried more weight than a bellow.

Marcy and I looked at each other. She swallowed and shifted on her stilettos. Before she could open her mouth, I jumped, figuratively, into the fray. “You can’t put too high a price on a soul.” I plastered a pious expression on my face, or at least tried to.

Uncle Leon gave me a pained look. “I understand this from my daughter. But I expected better from you.”

“Why?” My mother shot me a withering glance. “You know these two have been partners in crime since they could toddle. If one was doing mischief, you could be sure the other was as well.”

Partners in crime.

Guilt assailed me. I really should tell Marcy about Liam. At least I’d diverted some of Uncle Leon’s wrath from her; I consoled myself.

My uncle turned to his only child and pointed his finger. “For sheer stupidity, you’ve outdone yourself. I expect your credit cards on my desk after lunch. I’ll return them at the end of the month.”

Uh-oh.

Marcy’s azure eyes widened till they filled her face. “But that’s over two weeks away, and there’s a sale at…” Her voice trailed off as she took note of the alarming shade of red on her father’s handsome features. “Of course, Daddy.”

Her father swiveled in my direction. “And you, young lady, are not to pick up the slack.”

I nodded. The word slack could be loosely interpreted.

“I’m sorry. I should have let the silly thing fall,” Liam apologized. He had his jacket back on. His paisley cream vest fit his rangy body to perfection. The high-notched collar didn’t look comfortable, but it did add a touch of elegance.

I nodded. At least this time I had the presence of mind to keep my mouth shut. My shoulders prickled again. Stiff as the proverbial board, I turned my head toward my father. Eyes narrow, he studied me as if I were a bug in a science project.

This was so not good.

Dad’s gaze swung to the stainless steel refrigerator where mine had been moments before. Liam met his glance and straightened.

“I tell you that gravy boat floated through the air.” Vel’s ample bosom heaved. She stepped in front of Uncle Leon. “And if you don’t believe me, you can accept my resignation here and now.”

Liam looked alarmed. No doubt concerned about his gentlemanly gesture backfiring even further. The rest of us watched, amused. Even Dad’s sharp gaze relaxed as he turned it on Uncle Leon and Vel.

The cook had worked for them since I was five. Not a month went by without some altercation between Vel and Uncle Leon. I think they both enjoyed it and, by my dad’s twitching lips, he felt the same. He stepped into the breach. “Now, Vel. If you say the gravy boat floated through the air, I for one believe you.”

In two strides, he stood beside her and put his arm around her. “You know that no one in the family could do without you. I’d be devastated without your Sunday fried chicken.”

That snapped her back. Clever, Dad, clever. She straightened. “Oh my, your brunch will be cold. Go on in and get to eating. I’ll reheat the gravy and bring it right in.”

Uncle Leon rolled his eyes but trooped out with everyone else. As Dad walked through the door, he turned and stared at the refrigerator before he swung back and strode into the dining room.

I was the last one out. As I started for the door, Liam appeared in front of it. He raised his arm to open it for me before he caught himself. Either that or my look of abject terror clued him in. His arm dropped. “This is very frustrating for me. I’m a gentleman, not a churl. Gentlemen open doors for ladies.”

Churl. I’d have to remember that one. The boy was fascinating.

“Go on, girl, before your father gets any more ideas. I’m right behind you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I muttered.

Once at the table, I heaped my plate. My mom broke off her conversation with Aunt Janet, looked at me, and frowned. “Good gracious, Caitlin, you’ll be sick if you eat all that. Are you nervous? You always overeat when you’re nervous.”

“Nervous? What’s there to be nervous about? Floating gravy boats and ghosts?” Hysterical laughter burst from my throat.

Everyone at the table stopped speaking and stared. Marcy, bless her, changed the subject. “Momma, did you know Black’s is having a shoe sale? Even though I can’t take advantage of it, there’s no reason for you not to pick up a pair of those darling espadrilles.” She shot her father a martyred look that he ignored, and the conversation resumed.

After a huge piece of coconut pie, I rose groaning from the table.

“Cat, why don’t you stop over this week? We haven’t had a chance to chat in all the flurry of graduation and you settling in with Marcy,” Daddy said.

Uh-oh, fishing expedition. “Sure, Dad. I’ll bring Marcy along.” Check and check mate.

I gave everyone the prerequisite hug before I hustled out the door, Marcy on my heels bemoaning her lost credit cards.

“Nice family.” Liam floated beside me, his hands in his pockets.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Not much gets past your father.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I just was. Weren’t you listening?” Marcy stopped to pull a tiny pebble out of her strappies.

“Of course. It’s going to be a long two weeks,” I commiserated.

“An eternity.” She sighed. “Just wait till I get a job. Then if he pulls my charge cards, it won’t matter.”

“Mm-hmm.” I patted her arm.

“What’s a charge card?” Liam’s frock coat snapped in the wind, his thick tawny hair danced in the breeze. A lock fell on his forehead. He looked yummier than the coconut pie we’d had for desert.

My knees went weak. I raised my hand to push back that errant lock of hair before I caught myself. Finally, his question about credit cards registered. Pitiful. How had anyone survived in the 1800s without credit cards?

“You can tell me later,” he decided.

Thank you, your highness, I thought, grinning.

Marcy glanced over at me. “It’s not funny.”

“Of course it’s not,” I soothed. Trying to distract her from her grievances, I asked, “You want to go for a swim?”

“On top of that dinner?” She groaned. “I’d never fit into my bikini. I think I’ll veg out in front of the flat screen and watch a movie.”

“Let me do a few laps to work off the potatoes and gravy.” I managed not to look at Liam at the word “gravy”…but only just. “And then I’ll join you.”

“Sure.”

We’d reached the cottage. She headed for her room and I headed for mine. As I stepped into the bedroom, Liam disappeared. “I hope you’re keeping your word about no peeping,” I whispered.

I tossed my dress on the bed, toed off my shoes, and slipped into my pink polka dot bikini, then swore. As bikinis went, it was pretty demure. It rode a sedate inch below my belly button and very little cleavage showed. The problem was my distended belly.

Marcy called that one. I thought about wearing my black one-piece, then decided against it, going on the assumption I’d swim it off.

I grabbed a short pink beach robe, took a detour to the fridge, poured myself some tea, and hauled butt out to the pool.

The scent of chlorine assailed me, and I dove into the cool clear water. Ten laps later, I dragged myself into a lounge chair and slipped on sunglasses.

The scent of cinnamon and limes tickled my senses. There he was. My heart gave a small jump and my stomach fluttered. How was it possible to have a physical reaction to a ghost, a mass of ectoplasm?

“You have a good, strong stroke.” By the way his gaze traveled over me and the gleam in his eye, it appeared it wasn’t just my stroke he liked.

He slid into the chair beside me, removed his jacket, and turned his face to the sun. His eyes drifted shut. A look of pure contentment played across his features. I had no doubt it was reflected on mine. I stretched out and wiggled my toes, admiring my Purple Sunset polish.

“What does your father do for a living?”

“Well there’s a mood breaker.” I picked up my iced tea. “He’s a reporter.”

“That accounts for it.” He nodded his head.

“Accounts for what?”

“The sharp interest he took in me and in your response. Do you think he saw me? He kept staring in my direction.”

“Good God, I hope not.” I nearly dropped my tea. As it sloshed over the sides, I shook the liquid off my hand. A shower of tiny droplets spattered on the smooth white stones my chair rested on and splotched them with dark spots. “Enough about my father. Where are you from, Liam O’Reilly, and what are you doing here?” I leaned forward and sipped my tea.

“I’m from another time.”

“Got that part, but where was your geographical location when you were alive? You mentioned Ruby Falls, Virginia. I don’t think I’m familiar with it.”

“It’s a small town not too far from the Maryland border.” He paused and raised his eyebrows. “At least I assume it’s still there. My family ran a general store.” He shifted a bit in his chair and smiled, as if at pleasant memories, and his eyes lit with mischief. “The sweets in the store were a nice benefit.”

“So you were the kid with his hand in the candy jar?”

He threw back his head and laughed, a full, sensual sound.

“Did you have a happy childhood?” Sunlight and shadow played over his high cheekbones and chiseled features. He looked both ethereal and real.

“The best.” He grinned.

Why did talking to Liam feel so normal? Feel so right? “Don’t you find it odd that we are chatting like old acquaintances when we barely know each other and I’m flesh and blood, and you’re ectoplasm?” How had it happened so quickly? The immediate connection. Nothing made sense.

He winced.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude with the ectoplasm crack.” I reached over to touch him. His gray eyes glowed, and his features grew grave. His outline grew sharper, more defined, and the wonderful scent of him became tangier with an almost sexual flavor.

“Right.” I drew my hand back. Stupid, stupid, stupid. My heart galloped. What would have happened if I’d touched him? I rolled my shoulders and leaned back in the chaise. “So how did you end up in a test tube?”

“I have no idea.” He put long, lean fingers on each side of his head and pushed his hair back. The moment his hands dropped, it sprang back. “One moment, I’m floating in darkness. In the old general store, I think.” He wrinkled his forehead. “It’s all very strange. It’s like my room above the general store superimposed on a more modern room where people I don’t know go in and out. I could smell the sweat and cologne of strangers, and the scent of my mother’s laundry soap all at the same time. I was there and yet I wasn’t. Not like I am now. It’s like they were on the periphery of my consciousness.

“Anyway, the next thing I know some maniac, with hair standing all over his head and wearing glasses that are taped together, is clicking a little box that looks like a miniature camera. Every time he clicked, a green light shot out of the camera. Next, he turned on an apparatus with a hose that made a rumbling noise and, poof, I’m sucked down that hose into a cylinder bottle.” He shook his head. “It was stranger than being dead.”

“Fascinating.”

“No doubt.” He grimaced.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure it wasn’t fun. But wow!” I remembered the second test tube. “There were two test tubes.”

“That’s right.” His face lost all expression.

“Do you know who was in the second?”

He rose from the chair and drifted away. For several moments, he stared at the glistening water in the pool. Finally, he faced me. “Anna.”