The Ghost and Mr. Moore by Ryan Field Read Free Book Online Page A

back and forth.
     
Dexter and Michael weren’t a couple anymore, and Michael could find out about the new
     
reality show just like everybody else—when the announcement was made public.
     
Dexter also wasn't thrilled at the thought of Brighton getting remotely involved in
     
any kind of show business. When he thought about his lost childhood, his heart sank. But
     
she wasn't going to be subjected to the pressures of a long-running TV series, they
     
wouldn't be filming in a studio, and she wouldn't miss any school. Besides, he knew
     
Brighton well. He had a feeling that when she found out about the reality show, she'd fall
     
asleep with a smile on her face for the next six months.
     
Dexter stretched his arms in the air and yawned. He hadn’t slept well the night
     
before and his body was sore from swimming. But while he was yawning he thought he
     
heard something. It sounded like a man clearing his throat. Dexter turned to his left and
     
saw that the door was closed. He’d checked it twice to make sure it was locked, so he
     
knew no one else was in the room.
     
Then he heard it again. It was definitely a man’s deep voice clearing his throat,
     
louder this time. Dexter turned to his right and looked at the fireplace. His eyes opened
     
wide and his jaw dropped. He jumped sideways and pressed his naked back against the
     
headboard. There was a man with a beard sitting in one of the tall-backed leather wing
     
chairs that flanked the fireplace. His legs were crossed at the knees, his elbow was resting
     
on the arm, and his chin was in his palm. He stared and Michael and winked, then stood up from the chair, walked to the foot of the bed, and looked down at Michael’s naked
     
body with a wide, nasty grin.
     
Dexter reached for the phone and said, “Who are you? What are you doing in here?
     
I’m calling the police right now.” He pulled the duvet cover up with his other hand to
     
conceal his private parts. His naked legs and torso were still showing. But at least his
     
genitals were covered.
     
The man laughed and rubbed his beard. “Put down that silly contraption. You
     
know who I am.” The man’s voice was deep and strong. He spoke with an old New
     
England accent that almost sounded British.
     
Dexter lowered the telephone and leaned forward. He shook his head back and
     
forth and his eyes blinked. The man looked exactly like Captain Major Lang from the
     
painting over the parlor fireplace. He was wearing the same sea captain’s uniform and his
     
eyes were the same vivid blue. “I know who you look like ,” Dexter said, “but I want to
     
know who you are . This isn’t funny, man. Did Michael put you up to this so I’d get
     
scared and sell the house? Because it’s not going to work, whoever you are.”
     
The man turned to the right and looked out the window. He laughed and waved
     
his arm. “That loser Michael isn’t creative or smart enough to think of something that
     
clever.” He turned back and looked into Dexter’s eyes. “This isn’t a joke. I’m Captain
     
Major Lang.” Then he laughed and stared at Dexter’s naked legs. He sucked in his
     
bottom lip and said, “Did anyone ever tell you that you are magnificent when you’re
     
naked?”
     
Dexter ignored the compliment and moved toward the middle of the bed. “I don’t
     
believe in ghosts,” he said. “So you’d better tell me who you are, and fast.” “Do you remember your first morning in Keel Cottage?” Captain Lang asked.
     
“Who do you think stopped your daughter from falling to her death? I knew those two
     
buffoons from Boston who sold you the house hadn’t fixed that railing on the widow’s
     
walk. They said you were getting the house cheap enough, and they didn’t want to invest
     
another dime in it. I followed you and your daughter up there that day to make sure
     
nothing catastrophic would happen to either of you.”
     
“You’re