Read Online Ghost Layer (The Ghost Seer Series Book 2) by Robin D. Owens - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Robin D. Owens
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asked.
Hidgepath scowled at Zach as if noticing him for the first time. “Who is he?”
Zach smiled. “The law.”
Too-pointy-to-be-manly chin jutting, Hidgepath said,
You can’t do anything to me.
“Sure I can,” Zach said easily. “I can stop Clare from sending you on, let you stay in this half life forever.” From what the gunfighter ghost they’d dealt with had said, that was not something anyone wanted to stay stuck in.
Clare stiffened. Zach winked at her then stared into the dark and glittery holes that were the apparition’s “eyes.” “And who do you think is investigating your murder?”
The ghost literally brightened, becoming better defined shadows. He wore dark pants and a vest, a nice shirt. His hat had disappeared. Hope shone on his face.
You? You’ll be looking into my death?
The words resonated deeper in Zach’s head.
“That’s what I do.” Just before Zach had left, Rickman had said something about getting more cases from criminal defense attorneys now that Zach was on staff, maybe even hiring more ex-cops, building that side of his business.
J. Dawson Hidgepath bowed.
“Take the bones and go,” Clare said.
The entire body of the ghost slumped as if depressed his offerings hadn’t been accepted, but what did the guy expect?
Clare’s voice softened. “Where do you
want
to be buried, J. Dawson? I can gather and keep your bones and arrange for a burial in a place of your choosing.”
She lied. Zach knew damn well who’d be picking up those bones and storing them for safekeeping. It wasn’t Clare.
Scratching his chin, the wraith projected,
I would like to be buried in the Fairplay Cemetery. It was close to Curly Wolf and is a good name for a town, a good omen for me, and it is still being used so I won’t be lonely. Though, hopefully, you will find out who pushed me off that trail to my death, and
I will
rest easier.
Then the damn ghost winked at Clare.
Or you can find me a pretty little female ghost who is as stuck as I am.
He grinned, cocked a hip.
Everything is better for being shared.
Clare smiled and made pushing motions with her hand. “Go on with you. Know that we’re working to help you. And please, no more bones in my bed. Stick to the consulting room in the carriage house.”
“Does the consulting room have a couch?” Zach asked.
She sent him a repressive look. “A love seat.”
He could hide his bones in the love seat and I could find them! Fun, fun, fun!
Enzo barked and leapt off the bed to land near the ghost, doing one of those long nose-run-up-the-leg deals and inhaling lustily.
The shade of J. Dawson Hidgepath flinched. He tipped his hat—again on his head—to Zach, then a leer and a deeper pull on the brim of his bowler for Clare.
Later, fair lady.
As he began to fade, a last, echoing sentence came.
I’ll see you in South Park.
“Uh-oh,” Clare said. “I think we’re not the only ones who’ll be gifted with bones.” She looked with distaste at the four resting in her bed.
SEVEN
ENZO TILTED HIS head.
I will follow him and see where he goes! He DOES smell soooo good.
“Good idea,” Zach said and watched the Labrador bullet out of the same second-story French doors J. Dawson had entered by.
Clare shifted from foot to foot as if uncertain.
“Go ahead and change the sheets,” Zach said.
With a smile, she flung her arms around him, pressed her body against his briefly as she kissed his cheek, pleasing him with the casual intimacy. “I’ll help you,” he said. He picked up the bones and began to put them on the side table.
“Wait! That’s
my
bedside table.” She hurried away and came back with a large, fancily painted chest of about two feet wide with a domed top that she carried easily. Zach hadn’t begun to take off the sheets, he’d have to move the pillows first, and he knew exactly what would happen if he touched the cases with hands that had held old bones. The pillowcases would have to be stripped and washed,
Hidgepath scowled at Zach as if noticing him for the first time. “Who is he?”
Zach smiled. “The law.”
Too-pointy-to-be-manly chin jutting, Hidgepath said,
You can’t do anything to me.
“Sure I can,” Zach said easily. “I can stop Clare from sending you on, let you stay in this half life forever.” From what the gunfighter ghost they’d dealt with had said, that was not something anyone wanted to stay stuck in.
Clare stiffened. Zach winked at her then stared into the dark and glittery holes that were the apparition’s “eyes.” “And who do you think is investigating your murder?”
The ghost literally brightened, becoming better defined shadows. He wore dark pants and a vest, a nice shirt. His hat had disappeared. Hope shone on his face.
You? You’ll be looking into my death?
The words resonated deeper in Zach’s head.
“That’s what I do.” Just before Zach had left, Rickman had said something about getting more cases from criminal defense attorneys now that Zach was on staff, maybe even hiring more ex-cops, building that side of his business.
J. Dawson Hidgepath bowed.
“Take the bones and go,” Clare said.
The entire body of the ghost slumped as if depressed his offerings hadn’t been accepted, but what did the guy expect?
Clare’s voice softened. “Where do you
want
to be buried, J. Dawson? I can gather and keep your bones and arrange for a burial in a place of your choosing.”
She lied. Zach knew damn well who’d be picking up those bones and storing them for safekeeping. It wasn’t Clare.
Scratching his chin, the wraith projected,
I would like to be buried in the Fairplay Cemetery. It was close to Curly Wolf and is a good name for a town, a good omen for me, and it is still being used so I won’t be lonely. Though, hopefully, you will find out who pushed me off that trail to my death, and
I will
rest easier.
Then the damn ghost winked at Clare.
Or you can find me a pretty little female ghost who is as stuck as I am.
He grinned, cocked a hip.
Everything is better for being shared.
Clare smiled and made pushing motions with her hand. “Go on with you. Know that we’re working to help you. And please, no more bones in my bed. Stick to the consulting room in the carriage house.”
“Does the consulting room have a couch?” Zach asked.
She sent him a repressive look. “A love seat.”
He could hide his bones in the love seat and I could find them! Fun, fun, fun!
Enzo barked and leapt off the bed to land near the ghost, doing one of those long nose-run-up-the-leg deals and inhaling lustily.
The shade of J. Dawson Hidgepath flinched. He tipped his hat—again on his head—to Zach, then a leer and a deeper pull on the brim of his bowler for Clare.
Later, fair lady.
As he began to fade, a last, echoing sentence came.
I’ll see you in South Park.
“Uh-oh,” Clare said. “I think we’re not the only ones who’ll be gifted with bones.” She looked with distaste at the four resting in her bed.
SEVEN
ENZO TILTED HIS head.
I will follow him and see where he goes! He DOES smell soooo good.
“Good idea,” Zach said and watched the Labrador bullet out of the same second-story French doors J. Dawson had entered by.
Clare shifted from foot to foot as if uncertain.
“Go ahead and change the sheets,” Zach said.
With a smile, she flung her arms around him, pressed her body against his briefly as she kissed his cheek, pleasing him with the casual intimacy. “I’ll help you,” he said. He picked up the bones and began to put them on the side table.
“Wait! That’s
my
bedside table.” She hurried away and came back with a large, fancily painted chest of about two feet wide with a domed top that she carried easily. Zach hadn’t begun to take off the sheets, he’d have to move the pillows first, and he knew exactly what would happen if he touched the cases with hands that had held old bones. The pillowcases would have to be stripped and washed,
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