Page 11 of Ghostly
That made sense. Even young people died of disease a lot in those days.
“And you’ve been here ever since?”
She nodded. “Only no one had been able to see or hear me until now.”
Gabriel tried to sort out a myriad of thoughts rushing through his head. He’d never bothered with the supernatural, but piecing facts together and making sense of them—that was his thing. And the facts were: an injury to his head, moved statues, a fallen book, and a woman whose touch felt like a gush of icy air and whose dress seemed too intricate and era-appropriate for his mind to conjure up.Ergo,he was presently chatting with a 130-year-old ghost. Ahundred andthirtyyears. She’d been here all this time—the things she must’ve witnessed, all the different eras, the changes—and not being able to interact with anyone…
The last thought sent a chill down his spine. He couldn’t imagine being cut off from the life around him.
Actually, he could start to. Only six months to go. How would he feel, if he’d been subjected to this kind of isolation for a century?
“Fine.” He looked at the floor. “I’ll stay.” It was only logical. He wouldn’t have to bother with finding another house and the mess thatwould come from him trying to cancel this contract not even a week into his rental. The last thing he needed was to bring more attention to himself.
“Really?” She whizzed past him and twirled around the room. A vase on the shelf nearly overturned. “Whoops!” Ida stopped, and the vase settled back on its base.
“But no knocking, scraping, and other strange noises.”
“Okay.” She gave him a wide smile.
“And you won’t bother me.”
“No bothering.” She nodded vigorously. “I promise, you'll barely know I’m here.”
Chapter 4
“And besides bunny pajamas, he was obsessed with spy books. James Bond and the like.” Ida leaned on the back of the couch and watched Gabriel’s fingers move swiftly over the keyboard. The man could type like thunder. “I haunted all of them. Too bad they always pack up the books when they leave.”
“Haunted them?” Gabriel looked over his shoulder. “You said you don’t haunt.”
“People. I can haunt objects, though. They don’t mind.” She considered going through the couch, but figured it would be better to appear normal, and went around. She even moved her feet, so it looked like she was walking. “If I haunt an object that contains certain information, I gain that information. So haunting a book is like reading it, only faster.”
Gabriel paused with his fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Fascinating.”
“Anyway, Larry didn’t like to stack them by any order. Not alphabetical, not chronological. He’d let them lie in utter chaos. So one day I tried to rearrange the shelf and—are you listening?”
Gabriel had switched his attention back to the laptop and the massive document he had open. “Uh-huh.”
“And while doing that, I mistakenly killed Larry…”
No reaction.
“You aren’t listening, are you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Gabriel!” She passed a hand through his shoulder.
“Ouch!” He swatted at the spot.
“Sorry. But you weren’t listening.”
“Look. You said you wouldn’t bother me. I understand you spent many decades not having anybody to talk to, and you want me as a communication partner—”
“But you’re like any other man who’ll buy me flowers and put me on a pedestal on our first date, and after you get what you want, won’t care for me anymore? Even listen to me?”
Gabriel looked up, nose scrunched. “What?”
“Larry’s wife, Rhonda, was obsessed with musicals and lifestyle magazines. I may have haunted them.” She bowed her head. “Sadly, it means I can never forget all the dating column advice.”
