Free Weekend Warriors by Fern Michaels Page A

well as her clothes and her skis. She looked over at the rocker that was moving slowly back and forth.
    Nikki walked over to the old rocker and placed her hand on the armrest to stop the chair from moving. It continued to rock.
    “What’s your problem. Nik?”
    Nikki yelped and ran back to the bed. “Barb?”
    “Yes.”
    “Is it really you?”
    “In spirit. Do you want to give me a quiz?”
    Nikki shook her head. Was she dreaming? “I’m glad you’re here. At least I think I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you about Jack. I need to talk to you about a lot of things. You know what’s going on, don’t you?”
    “Every single thing. I have one kick-ass mother, don’t I? If you’re asking me if I approve, I do. Get them all, Nik. Make them pay for what they did to those women. I hope you can continue to do it forever. It’s about time someone took matters into their own hands. I wish I was there to help you. Just promise me you won’t get caught.”
    Nikki laughed. I’ll do my best not to get caught. Can you just picture me in the slammer?”
    “No, I can’t picture that at all. Promise me you’ll be careful. I wish I was there to help you and Mom and all those women.”
    “God, I wish that so much, Barb. I miss you. It’s always worse here in this room. It’s like you’re still here. I can smell your perfume. I can see your skis leaning up in the corner and your mom gave me your sweatpants tonight. I started to cry when I saw the red X on the bottom of the pants leg. Jack had dinner with some good-looking redhead. My paralegal saw them.”
    “They look good on you. Let’s get back to Jack. He’s just trying to tick you off, Nik. Guys do that, as you and I both found out along the way. He knew your paralegal would tell you she saw him with some good-looking chick. You aren’t going to fall for that, are you, Nik?”
    “It doesn’t matter. It still hurts. So, how . . . how is it on the . . . other side?”
    “Peaceful. Quiet. Beautiful. We were talking about Jack . . .”
    “He’s so competitive. I can’t win the case with Marie Lewellen. We all knew that going in. You know the drill, open mouth, insert foot. He took me on. My name is going to be mud when Marie disappears. I’m not calling him, so don’t even suggest it.”
    “I wasn’t going to suggest any such thing. Why don’t you call up Mike Deverone and ask him out to dinner. He always had the hots for you. And he has a brain, plus he’s an excellent lawyer as you well know.”
    “That’s a thought.”
    “How come I always have to do your thinking for you. Where’s Willie? Toss him over here, okay. I miss the little guy.
    Nikki walked over to the twin bed Barbara had always slept in. She pulled down the spread and raised the pillow. She hugged the little bear before she tossed it in the direction of the rocking chair. She almost fainted when she saw the little bear swirl in mid-air and then stop as though someone had reached for it. She plopped down on the edge of her own bed, her emotions running wild as she stared across the room at the rocking chair.
    “Listen, are you going to . . . you know, hang around or do you have to . . . go . . . back. I’m dead on my . . . sorry, I’m out on my feet and I have to get up early.”
    “I thought I would sit here and rock with Willie for a while. You don’t mind, do you? I’ll watch over you while you sleep, Nik.”
    “No, I don’t mind. Barb, do you come here . . . often? If I need you, what should I do?”
    “Just call my name. Hey, isn’t there a song by that name?”
    “Probably. There’s a song for everything, just like there’s a book for everything in the world. There’s even a song for pantyhose. You should hear that one. Someone with red hair named Corinda Carford sings it. You’d get a kick out of it, Barb, because you always hated pantyhose. I have the CD in my apartment if you ever want to hear it.”
    “Okay. Good night, Nik. Sweet dreams. Don’t