Ghost for Sale

by Sandra Cox

  “Who are you?” My chest heaved and my breath came in short, sharp pants.

  Marcy frowned at me, puzzled. “It’s only a game.”

  I ignored her, my heart pounding and my palms sweating, and screamed. “Who are you?”

  In fits and starts, the planchette started to move. E. I knew what was going to be spelled out. The planchette moved to Z. Intrigued, Marcy began to spell, “E-Z-R-A. Ezra?”

  Goose bumps roughened my skin. The hair on the back of my neck rose. Ezra Ames. It had to be.

  “Ezra, you have to let her go.” I knew it was a mistake as soon as I said it, but there was no calling back the words.

  A lamp flew across the room and missed my head by inches. Next, a lit candle whirled toward me. Liam grabbed it and put it out with his hand. “Leave her alone,” he roared. In a nanosecond, he blew out the rest of the candles before Ezra could start a fire.

  The television came on. Another lamp was hurled through the air.

  “Shut the Ouija board,” Liam yelled as he turned on the lights. They were immediately flicked off. The stereo blared.

  I started to slam it shut.

  “Say good-bye first,” Marcy screamed.

  “What?”

  I ducked as a small ceramic horse flew off the shelf.

  “You have to say good-bye. It’s etiquette. If he doesn’t respond, he might stay here.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure he won’t,” I yelled above the wind that whirled around us and slammed the board shut.

  Everything quieted. The stereo clicked off. The wind died. The horse whirling through the air dropped to the floor.

  Marcy looked at me and said with commendable calm. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

  Chapter 14

  “It’s not like you haven’t tried to tell her before,” Liam grumbled as he toured the room.

  “Maybe I should have tried harder. Is he gone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tried harder? What are you talking about?” Marcy asked confused. “And yes he appears to be gone. Would you please tell me what’s going on?”

  “Perhaps you’d better sit down.”

  “I am sitting down.”

  “So you are.” I put the lamps back on the tables. Surprisingly, except for a dent in one of the shades, they weren’t damaged. I collapsed back on the floor, my back against the couch. “Remember the other day when I told you the ghost’s name was Liam?”

  “Yeah, what a coincidence.”

  “No coincidence.” I rubbed my forehead. I could feel a tension headache forming.

  “What are you saying?”

  “The ghost in the tube that wasn’t damaged was Liam.”

  “So when you said you could see and hear the ghost, you were telling the truth, not studying lines for a play?”

  “I tried to tell you.”

  “But not very hard.”

  “Not very hard,” I admitted.

  “So you are saying my ghost made this mess?” Marcy looked around in amazement.

  “No! And he’s not your ghost. He’s mine,” I snapped.

  Liam studied me, a strange little smile on his features.

  Heat flooded my face. I lifted my chin. He was my ghost. Mine. No matter what happened. No matter where he ended up, he was mine.

  Marcy rubbed her chin with a well-manicured index finger and watched me as well. Finally she said, “This just isn’t like you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s never been any rivalry between us about guys or objects. Even if I’ve had more than you, you’ve never cared.”

  “He’s not an object,” I said hotly. I could feel my eyes spark. I clenched my fists. “He’s a living, breathing entity.” Then, I amended, “Well maybe not the same as you or I live and breathe, but he’s alive on his own plane. And the guys that dumped me to try to make headway with you were jerks. Good riddance to them.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “You can’t have Liam. He’s mine, Marcy.”

  “I am, lass, yours completely. I love you so much it makes my heart hurt.” He had moved till he stood in front of me, his outline sharp and defined, emotion strong on his face.

  My throat burned and my eyes stung. “And I’m yours,” I whispered.

  “We’ll pretend that’s the case for now. But you’ve got to remember it’s temporary. I can’t give you what you want and need.” Misery crossed his strong-boned features.

  “You’re all I want.” To my horror, I began to cry.

  “Here now, lass. Please don’t.” Liam looked stricken and moved as close to me as he dared.

  Marcy came over, put her arms around me, and hugged me before she handed me a tissue. I blew my nose, a loud honking sound, definitely not a feminine girlie-girl blow. Her features pasty white, she hurried to the phone and began to dial.

  “Who are you calling,” I blubbered.

  “Your parents.”

  “No, no don’t call my parents,” I gurgled in alarm, trying to talk through the thickness in my throat.

  The phone disappeared out of Marcy’s hands and floated across the room. Marcy bit down on a shriek.

  “It’s okay. It’s only Liam.” I sniffled.

  She took several deep breaths. “I get it. But seeing something float across the room is different than having something jerked out of your hands. Not to mention my fingers are tingling like I’ve had an electric shock.” She shook her hand, her expression accusing.

  Concern for my cousin made me forget about my woes. “I’m sorry. The tingling will disappear soon. Come into the kitchen and I’ll fix you a cup of tea and tell you every single detail,” I coaxed. “And this time I won’t leave anything out.”

  “I’m thinking she needs something stronger,” Liam observed.

  “Since technically we’re underage, nothing alcoholic is allowed in the house.” I brushed at my wet cheeks.

  “What?” Marcy stopped shrieking to look at me suspiciously.

  “Liam thinks you need something stronger than tea.” I guided her into the kitchen.

  “He’s got that right.” She eyed the phone and shuddered.

  I seated her at the table before I put the kettle on, then came back and sat down beside her. I squeezed her hand reassuringly. We sat that way for a moment, calming down as I tried to decide how I’d explain everything. Finally, I settled on starting at the beginning. “Remember the day the package arrived and you popped open the test tube?”

  She nodded just as the teakettle began to sing. I put tea bags into the matching pink and brown polka dot mugs that said Marcy and Cat on one side and had pink sandals on the other.

  I set the mugs on the table and slid into my seat. “I’ll try to explain more fully. The moment you opened the test tube I smelled cinnamon and tart limes—Liam’s signature fragrance—and felt a surge of electricity.”

  “But you never said anything.”

  “I didn’t know if it was anything more than my imagination. That night when I thought there was an intruder…”

  “Liam?”

  “Yes, Liam.”

  “I still don’t understand, why didn’t you tell me? We tell each other everything.” She looked hurt.

  “I should have. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bring myself to share him, even with you.”

  “I see.” A little smile played on her face, her gaze perceptive. She looked around. “Is he here now?”

  Liam had floated into one of the other chairs. His elbows on the table, he swiveled his head back and forth between the two of us, rapt attention on his features.

  I pointed toward him.

  “So all the times you were practicing your lines, you were talking to Liam.”

  “Yeah.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “And the time I got an electric shock from the pool chair?”

  “You sat on him.”

  “My apologies. It wasn’t very gentl
emanly of me.” Liam looked chagrined.

  “He apologizes.”

  “What about the other test tube?” She pulled a delicate white ceramic sugar bowl toward her and put enough sugar in her tea to make a Northerner wince.

  “That gets a bit tricky,” I admitted as she passed me the sugar bowl. I added several heaping teaspoons to my tea and sipped. “The broken test tube held his twin, who escaped en route when the test tube broke.”

  “Really?” she breathed.

  “Yeah.”

  “Was it his sister who threw things around tonight?” She set down the mug and wrapped her hands around it as she kept glancing at the empty chair where Liam sat.

  “No. But there’s a connection. Both Liam and his sister were killed on her wedding day. She loved Wil—”

  “Don’t say it,” Liam shouted, jumping out of the chair and waving his arms.

  “Right.”

  “She loved her fiancé so much she refused to move into the light and leave him, so she’s caught in a vortex looking for him.”

  “Oh, the poor thing.” Marcy’s eyes filled with tears. “And Liam?” She sniffed and wiped her eyes.

  I tipped my cup. The caramel-colored liquid swirled in circles round and around. Finally, I said, “He wouldn’t leave her behind.”

  Her eyes widened. “That’s truly heroic.”

  “One of the most heroic things I’ve ever heard,” I agreed.

  “Cut that stuff out, you’re embarrassing me,” my ghost grumbled. His face glowed bright red.

  “We’re embarrassing him.”

  “Really?” She looked at the empty chair, then back at me. “So you can see and hear him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’d love to see what he looks like.” Marcy rested her chin in her hand, her voice wistful.

  “Be right back.” I hopped up. My heart expanded and warmth flooded me. Finally, something about Liam I could share with Marcy. “Where did I leave my purse…. Oh yeah.” It was at the other end of the table near Liam. Duh.

  “Would you toss me my purse?” I was showing off, but I couldn’t help it.

  He grinned at me and slid it across the table. Maybe he was showing off a bit too.

  Marcy’s jaw dropped. “I’m not sure I can get used to this.”

  “You will. Trust me.” I dug out my phone, punched up the picture of Liam with his horse, and handed it to her. I couldn’t wait to see her reaction.

  “This is Liam?” She blinked, then stared.

  “Yes.”

  “What a hottie.” She glanced at the empty chair. “Liam, you’re worth every penny of the three thousand I paid for you.”

  I burst into laughter and couldn’t stop. My stomach hurt I laughed so much. Leave it to Marcy. Liam’s chair, which he’d balanced on two legs, came down with a thump. After one startled moment, Liam laughed too.

  While I regained control, Marcy reached for her tea and sipped it thoughtfully. “I need chocolate.” Her chair scraped against the floor as she pushed it back. “What happened to Liam’s twin’s fiancé? By the way, what’s her name?” She rummaged in the pantry, pulled out a couple of Swiss chocolate bars, and tossed me one.

  “Her name’s Anna. And her fiancé is like Liam. He won’t cross over without her, either.” I spoke thickly around a mouthful of chocolate.

  “So what’s keeping them apart?”

  “Ezra Ames,” Liam and I said in unison.

  “I never saw that one coming.” Liam leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

  “I did,” I said smugly. “In the church picture, he was looking at Anna the way she was looking at Wil—”

  “Don’t say it,” Liam interrupted.

  “Can’t link their names or Ezra goes on a tear,” I told Marcy, who looked understandably lost. I’d finished the chocolate bar in record time so I yanked a daisy out of the fresh flowers that sat on the kitchen table and began to pluck at the petals.

  Marcy got up, trotted to the cabinet, and threw me another candy bar. “Don’t decapitate the poor flowers.”

  “Sorry.” I ripped open the wrapper and crammed a large piece in my mouth.

  “This is unbelievable. You should write a book.”

  I choked, then swallowed. “Thinking seriously about it.”

  “What happens now?” Marcy’d grabbed another chocolate bar for herself as well. She sat down and began to unwrap it.

  “Now that we know who it is, we’ve got to convince him to let Anna and her fiancé reunite. I’m just not sure how to approach it without him destroying the house.” A chocolate smear was on my blouse. I scraped at it with my nails, but it didn’t come off.

  Marcy chewed on her chocolate and stared into space. “The Ouija Board almost worked. But we need something stronger when trying to contact the spirits. We’ll hold a séance.”

  Chapter 15

  I spent the night and the next day trying to think of a good excuse not to have it. I didn’t want to lose Liam. It was small and selfish of me, but there it was. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter. We had to do this. If I truly loved Liam, I’d let him go. And Anna and her beloved William had been apart too long.

  The doorbell rang as we prepped for the séance.

  “Who could that be?” Marcy asked.

  “I forgot to tell you Patrick picked up a couple movies and a pizza. Why don’t you stick around and join us?”

  “Three’s a crowd.” She waved her hand airily.

  “Then stay and we’ll have a foursome,” I said dryly and headed for the door.

  Marcy giggled. “Okay with you?” she asked the air.

  “The more the merrier,” Liam replied, floating with me to the door.

  “He’d love for you to stay,” I responded. I’d gone from talking to a ghost to acting as interpreter for his and Marcy’s conversations. They were getting along like a house on fire.

  I opened the door. Patrick balanced a large pizza box in one hand and held movies in the other. He wore jeans with a hole in the knee and a faded gray T-shirt.

  “Come in.”

  As he entered, the smell of sauce and herbs mingled with soap and clean cotton.

  “Hi there.” He looked me over and smiled appreciatively. “You look great. But then you always do.”

  “Thanks.” I wore a pair of jean shorts, a plain white silk tee with a scooped neck, and black thong sandals with white bows.

  “He’s right, lass, you look…”

  “A fair treat,” I mouthed under my breath.

  “I was going to say fair beautiful, but fair treat works.”

  We smiled at each other.

  Patrick gave me a puzzled look. I came back to reality with a thump and headed for the living room. Marcy came out of the kitchen carrying a tray loaded with cans of soda, mauve and white striped paper plates, and matching napkins and cups filled with ice, the paper the same color as Marcy’s mauve tee.

  “Nice accessorizing.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Marcy’s joining us,” I told Patrick as I placed the warm cardboard box on the coffee table.

  “Perfect, I’ll get to spend the evening with two lovely ladies.” He smiled at Marcy, a friendly smile that held no intimacy, before he turned and looked at me. His eyes lit up and guilt seized me. Patrick was a good man. I didn’t want to hurt him. And right now the only man I wanted in my life was my ghost. I had a sinking feeling that wasn’t going to change, even when he left me.

  “Hey, Cat, you okay?” Patrick tapped my elbow.

  “Oh, yeah.” I shifted toward him.

  “Sometimes you just go away. You’re with me one minute and the next, it’s like you’re someplace else.”

  That brought me back. “Just spacing. Underneath the black is pure blonde.” I pointed at my head and laughed.

  “No. You’re a very intelligent woman. I’m not sure why you’d want to hide it.” He didn’t smile, just studied
me. Frown lines wrinkled his brow.

  Marce glanced at Patrick, then me. “Let’s eat this while it’s hot.” Steam rose in a warm, sensuous tide of mouthwatering scents.

  Thank you, Marcy.

  “Patrick, plug in a movie,” she ordered.

  “I brought a chick flick and a comedy. Which do you want to see first?”

  “You brought a chick flick?” Marce and I asked in unison.

  “Trying to score points.” He grinned.

  “Chick flick?” Liam asked, puzzled.

  I cleared my throat. “Picking up a movie aimed for a female audience definitely gets you points.”

  “Oh, I see.” Liam nodded. “Smart move.”

  I did a mental eye roll. Guys.

  As the previews rolled, we settled on the couch. Liam stretched out about a foot above the back of it, his legs crossed, his chin resting in his palm. He’d tossed his jacket over the chair.

  The background music of the movie nearly drowned out the doorbell.

  Marcy and I looked at each other. I shook my head and hunched my shoulders.

  “I’ll get it.” Pizza in hand, she pushed up from the couch.

  Liam floated after her. In a few moments, he drifted back, a scowl on his face. “You really need to get rid of that one,” he said, clueing me in to our visitor’s identity.

  “Look who dropped by,” Marcy said in a cheery voice, a bright smile plastered on her face.

  “Hello, Clayton,” I said with a notable lack of enthusiasm.

  Clayton’s gaze swept our cozy little tableau. “Caitlin,” he said, his manner stiff.

  I stood up, Patrick rose, and I made the introductions. The men clasped hands and studied each other. Clayton grimaced and flexed his fingers as he pulled his hand back. “Caitlin, can I talk to you a moment?”

  “Sure.” I headed for the kitchen.

  “Is that the boyfriend?” Patrick asked. I didn’t hear Marcy’s reply.

  When we got to the kitchen, Clayton snapped out, “Who is that?”

  I hadn’t noticed that Liam had come with us. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He circled Clayton. “I don’t like his tone.”

  “I don’t either.” My back straightened and my body stiffened.

  “Excuse me?” Clayton arched an eyebrow.