Ghost Gone Wild (A Bailey Ruth Ghost Novel) by Carolyn Hart Read Free Book Online Page A

moved Nick to ferocious resistance. So that was out for now. The attack still must be reported to the police, and I was in no position to answer official questions.
    I gave a decisive nod. I caught the movement in the mirror. Wiggins would be proud. I appeared as determined, and I hoped as appealing, as Myrna Loy in the paint scene in
Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House
.
    Nick stiffened.
    I reached out to pat his shoulder reassuringly, and he shied like a spooked horse. “Emulate your favorite spider. Be cool. Here’s what we need to do.”
    His rigid face was all angles, mostly jutting cheekbones. He seemed to have an aversion to the plural if it included me.
    I was pleasant, but firm. “You must report the shooting. After the investigation is complete, you can join me. I’ll . . .” I paused, squeezed my face in thought. Where could I go? “It’s such a bother, not being able to be here and there whenever I wish. You must stay here for the moment and I must leave. . . .” Inspiration struck. “I’ll take that little yellow scooter outside. Meet me at Main and Calhoun at midnight. Surely it won’t take any longer than that to see about the shooting. Until we figure out what’s going on, you shouldn’t stay by yourself. We can book a double room somewhere.”
    He looked as horrified as if I’d suggested sharing space with an adder. “Not a chance.”
    “Your virtue is not at risk. I am a happily married woman. You can sleep in your shorts and I suppose you have a T-shirt I can borrow. After all, there are not only coed dorms but coed rooms these days. So what’s the problem?” I smothered a yawn. “On the way, we’ll stop for a hamburger somewhere.”
    Now his face not only jutted, his body locked in a decent imitation of an iron sculpture. “No way.”
    I moved behind the wet bar, opened cupboards. A can of cashews.
    “Come on, Nick, you must call the police. But first, call a motel and make a reservation.”
    “You want me to use my credit card and have a redheaded babe show up and check in? This is a little town. Word would get back to Jan—” He stopped. “Jan. Hey, that’s where I can put you. Jan’s mom has a B and B. I grew up next door.” He looked a trifle defensive. “Arlene—her mom—is kind of frosted at me right now, but I doubt if she’s full, and a body in a bed pays better than a bed without a body. Anyway, Arlene can use the money. Adelaide’s booming because of the Chickasaw Nation, but even so, Jan said the B and B visitors are down this year. The economy keeps a lot of people home. I’ll call and explain I have an employee who needs a place to stay. Jan will think everything’s on the up-and-up if I send you there. Won’t she?” The beseeching tone in his voice was pitiful.
    “Of course that’s what she’ll think.”
    His momentary elation fled. He gazed at me from head to foot. “What could I hire you for?”
    His emphasis on the third-person pronoun was not pleasing. Possibly, I thought, I should add to his reading list a self-help book extolling the value of tact. However, a seriously rich twenty-four-year-old probably felt tact was as unnecessary as a landline. But this wasn’t the moment to try to improve Nick’s attitudes.
    He shook his head in disgust. “Who’s going to believe I need a redheaded babe to do anything? I’ve never had a secretary. I’m thinking about a new game, but I’ll bet you don’t know a thing about vampires. That’s what’s hot.” His face brightened. “I’ve got this great idea about vampires who vaporize giant squid invading from Saturn.”
    Great idea. . . .
    I clapped my hands together. I don’t know if it was the cashews or the prospect of finding sanctuary or the light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel relief that finally the police would be contacted, but suddenly I knew exactly what to do.

Chapter 4
    I shared my plan in a few short sentences.
    Nick looked even more disagreeable.
    I was adamant. “It’s a brilliant ploy.