Ghostly Liaison (15 page)

“Where are my manners? Here, let me help you.”

She picked up the pack and handed it to him. “Thanks.”

With the backpack on correctly, Bridget wheeled her bike out of the garage and closed the door. “See ya later, Henry.”

No sign of Charlie, but then Henry stood in view waving good-bye. She waved back and headed on her way.

* * * *

Charlie willed herself to Bridget’s bike and floated along. Once hidden from public view, she’d materialize for Bridget and then probably get reamed out, but nothing would stop her from seeing Nick.

With the road busy with traffic, Bridget waited several minutes before pulling out into the main highway. She quickly crossed the street and headed south.

The traffic kept Charlie’s presence hidden, which suited her just fine. Why get chewed out if she could avoid it?

The light ahead turned red, but Bridget was too far away to slow. Charlie kept pace with the bike, not exerting herself one bit. She couldn’t say the same for Bridget. Man, the girl was out of—

“What the—” Charlie stared at the ceiling as she floated above her old bed. How’d she get here? What had Bridget done?

She willed herself to the main street. Bridget had pedaled beyond the light. Willing herself to the bike, she remained stationary. Okay, she’d float over. As long as she kept Bridget in sight, all would be good.

She’d only moved a few inches when she arrived back in her room.

What the hell? Why did she keep ending up here? Had Bridget put some kind of hex on her?

This was so unfair. Charlie sat up and swung her fist at the wall, but of course, it sailed through it unscathed. When Bridget returned, they were so going to have one serious powwow.

* * * *

Rob backed the truck into the driveway, still musing over Bridget’s color choice. He’d been sure she would have picked out something in the blue or green range, and even she seemed surprised, which made no sense at all.

He knocked on the door. Barnaby barked, but other than that—nothing. He rattled the knob. Locked.

“She’s not home, Rob.” Murdock meandered his way across the yard.

“Did her parents come by?”

“I don’t know, but she didn’t leave with them. She took off on her bike. Wouldn’t accept a ride from me, either. I guess she just wanted to go riding.”

Bike riding? Maybe she was on a disposal mission. “Did she have a green trash bag with her?”

“No, but she had her backpack. Actually, I thought someone was with her, with the way she was talking, but it was just her. Or maybe she was on her phone and I didn’t notice? You know, one of those ear thingies.” He removed his glasses and wiped the lenses with the tail of his shirt. “Getting old is the pits. Don’t let it happen to you.”

Rob punched in the passcode for the garage. It must be the snake. What other reason would make her take off? She knew he would return. He shivered thinking about that thing being in her backpack. The woman had more guts than he did.

* * * *

Nick sat on the roof and stared out over the buildings. A breeze had kicked up, not that he could feel it. The trees in the distance were doing their little wind dance and the plastic window coverings were flapping in annoyance. Soon the rain would appear, not that the scent warned him. Dark clouds grew on the western horizon and he could hear a rumble in the distance. Sight and sound were all he had left.

Even without smell or touch, he liked the rain. It was quite the thing experiencing a storm without getting wet. Or feeling threatened by lightning.

The door downstairs slammed shut. His roommate must have returned. Pretty bad when the high point of his day was watching someone get piss-assed drunk. Man, what he wouldn’t give for a drink right about now. Or a doughnut. He missed those, too.

He floated down into the building. Wires hung from unfinished ceilings and metal studs stood naked awaiting drywall. Windows above the first floor lacked coverings. There the birds could come and go—the shit on the pressed-wood floors evidence of their existence.

Once he reached the first level, he headed for the elevator shaft. The cables had been secured high enough so no person would climb or accidently hang themselves. Contained in the alcove below sat a ratty old pillow, a stained blanket, and some discarded empties, but no roommate.

Damn, that meant
he’d
arrived. Again. Nick never should have said anything. Then maybe he’d be alive today, spending his life with Charlie.

God, he missed her. Of all the people in his life, she’d meant more to him than anyone and he hurt being apart from her the most. Had she moved on? Was she happy? He never got to tell her good-bye. But then, how could he? Forget the drink. Forget the doughnut. He’d give anything to see his girl one last time. But what were the odds she’d ever show up here?

Footsteps echoed on the stairwell and Nick headed in that direction. Something must have happened in the past few days to bring the traitor back to this building. But he’d have the last laugh because his father was searching for something he would never find. There was some entertainment in watching his old man go over the edge. After every visit he became more agitated.

Nick might have been able to forgive dear old Dad if he had only shown remorse for what he’d done instead of covering it up and making it look like an accident. Only a sick father could leave his son’s dead body to the birds and rodents until discovered in the morning. If Nick could, he’d haunt his father’s house. But for some reason, every time he ventured beyond a certain point, he’d return to the spot he’d perished.

So, no haunting his father and no visiting his girl. Just a small diameter of space, a space devoid of homes. Days weren’t horrible, but the nights were long. Long and quiet.

Dad stood on the second of five levels. Eventually he would run out of floors and rooms to inspect. Then what would he do? Start over?

Nick smiled. Maybe Karma was on his side.

* * * *

Charlie couldn’t believe her peepers once Rob opened the garage. On the floor lay Bridget’s folded map. It must have popped out of her pocket after she struggled with that backpack. Charlie smiled. Maybe her problem had to do with her mode of transportation. If she hitched a ride with Rob, could she make it to Nick? Or did she just need to know the address?

Of course, she couldn’t get the address unless Rob picked up the paper and opened it. And he wouldn’t pick it up unless she drew his attention to it. She stood behind the paper and swooshed her arms out.

The map might as well have been glued to the floor for all the movement it made. Seemed to be her lucky day—not!

Barnaby whined at the door. Hmm. Barnaby could help.

“What are you painting?” Mr. Murdock asked.

“The bathroom.”

She stood beside Rob. Man, what she wouldn’t give to wrap her arms around her brother one last time. She missed those big bear hugs he used to give her. The wrestling, not so much. Even if she was the one who’d always started it.

The old man stared at the paint can. “Peach Sundae? Sounds more like a food than a color.”

Rob laughed. He opened the back of his truck and pulled out paint supplies. “Bridget picked it out, not me.”

“No, I picked it out, you doofus.” Charlie popped back into the house. “Come on Barnaby, bark. Scratch on the door. Like this.” She demonstrated, hoping that would help. “Let Robbie know you want out.”

She popped back into the garage and the dog barked. That was her boy.

Rob sighed and opened the door. “What is your problem?”

Barnaby dashed through the door, nearly knocking Rob over. Charlie laughed at his surprised expression.

He grabbed at the door, steadying himself. “I think the dog’s gone bonkers.”

“He does seem rather anxious. Is he licking the air?”

Barnaby licked a face that wasn’t there and she’d kiss him back if she could, but first she needed him to do his thing. “Follow me, baby. Follow me.”

She led her faithful friend to the paper and made scratching motions. Barnaby got the gist and copied her.

“Need any help?” Mr. Murdock asked.

“Sure.” Rob opened a box and pulled out some plastic sheeting and placed it in a roller pan, along with a roller. He told Mr. Murdock where to go and followed him into the house carrying the ladder. Both men ignored the dog.

Charlie grumbled. “What are you? Blind? Geez, what’s a girl gotta do to get some attention?”

“What do you have there?” Rob asked.

He picked up the paper. Her heart soared. Finally, something had gone right.

“What is it?” Mr. Murdock asked.

Rob unfolded the map. Charlie hovered over her brother and got what she desperately needed. Hot dog! Yeah, that’s right. Time to go. Time to hit the street. Nick was waiting. He just didn’t know it yet. She willed herself to the address.

Nothing. She remained in the garage.

Mr. Murdock pointed at the paper. “Oh, that’s the directions she printed out the other day. Maybe that’s where she went.”

“She printed this? When?”

“Thursday night. She came over to borrow my computer. Do you recognize the address?”

Of course Robbie did—Nick had died there. But why couldn’t she pop on over? She had the address now. That should have been enough, but nooo. Robbie better damn well be curious because she had a date and her brother was her last hope.

He folded the paper and slipped it in his back pocket. “Nah. If you don’t mind, I’m going to get to work. Thanks for your help. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Work? No, not work. You need to go to Bridget.” Charlie swatted at her brother for all the good it did her.

“Yeah, I guess the room is a little cramped for two people to paint. See ya later, Rob.”

Rob watched Mr. Murdock shuffle back to his house. Once he meandered out of sight, Rob pulled the paper out of his back pocket.

Holy shit! Had he been only trying to get rid of the old man? Would he make her dreams come true?

He knelt beside the dog. “I wish you could talk. I’m sure you know what she’s up to. I guess my curiosity has gotten the better of me. Wanna go for a car ride?”

“Yes, finally.” She popped inside the truck and waited.

The passenger door opened and the beast jumped inside. By the time Rob climbed in, Barnaby hung over the back of the front seat, reaching for Charlie. He shot his tongue out several times.

“You keep that up and I’m taking you home,” Rob said.

No, not home! “Barnaby! Sit!” The dog settled and planted his butt on the seat.

“That’s more like it,” Rob said. “Now, let’s go see what Bridget is up to.”

He started the truck and pulled into the street. It took some maneuvering on Charlie’s part, but she managed to somehow link herself with the vehicle and even though she basically floated, she stayed within the confines of the cab.

Barnaby stared at her.

Rob stopped at the stop sign and glanced back. “Whatcha looking at?”

“He’s looking at the best owner he’s ever had, that’s who.”

The dog squirmed in his seat, his body twitching as if he wanted to stand or jump over the seat rest. Rob kept looking between Barnaby and the back seat.

“Charlie?”

She patted her chest. “What? Can you hear me? Can you see me?”

He shook his head and turned around. He wasn’t answering her questions. Most likely he wondered about his sanity. Still, to even suspect. Could it be Bridget might have cracked that wall he called a brain?

He turned left onto the street, going in the same direction Bridget had earlier. Charlie was ready. Would she be able to touch Nick? Maybe kiss him, even? Could they have a life together as ghosts? She dreamed of all the possibilities.

A red signal loomed ahead. No, no, no. Green lights. Green lights all the way. The sooner she got there—

“Son of a….”

She was back in her old room.

Bridget braked at the construction site. The ride had been better than anticipated—the flat terrain a big help—but she still had a long way to go before being considered fit. Breathing hard, she pulled the backpack around and retrieved her water. If she had prepared better, she would have brought her aspirin. As she sucked down the semiwarm refreshment, her heart rate slowed to a fast gallop.

The wind picked up and cooled her heated face, but the rest of her smoldered. Her long-sleeve shirt stuck to her back and her jeans chafed. She swiped her arm across her drippy brow and then put the bottle back into the pack. Clouds formed on the western horizon. Rain or plain ol’ clouds? She prayed for the latter.

The unfinished building—a five-story stand-alone—stood among other finished ones in a business area. It didn’t appear anyone was currently working on it, either. Brickwork stopped halfway up the front, leaving the Tyvek-covered boards exposed on top and the sides. The upper windows were open to the elements, but plastic covered the lower ones, which currently flapped in the breeze, making the place a bit creepy. Had the project shut down due to the accident or just the economy?

She slipped her backpack on and rode around to the back. If Rob’s construction crew was still working, there would be some sign—a trailer or trucks or something. It looked deserted. She climbed off her bike and leaned it against the building. She looped her helmet over the handlebars. The stench of urine burned her nose, even in the breeze.

Someone must be watching from one of the many windows overlooking the parking lot, even on this three-day weekend, else, she’d see Charlie. Unless… Shit. Would she go inside without her? Of course she would. That girl waited for no one.

Bridget walked to the door and found it unlocked. Not that locking it would keep people out. It wouldn’t take a tall person to crawl through one of the windows. Was it still considered breaking and entering if the place lacked a no trespassing sign? She stepped through and the door slammed behind her, causing her to jump. Little tremors formed in her chest and radiated to her hands. She shouldn’t have come. What if Nick hurt her?

Stop it! Charlie wouldn’t have gotten involved with someone like that. And Rob never indicated Nick had been a bad person. She was letting her imagination go wild.