Free Ghostly Liaison by Stacy McKitrick Page A

covered rod from her mother. “Fine. Yes, I think he’s very good-looking. There. Satisfied?”
    Charlie smiled. She liked Bridget and she loved her brother. The two of them would easily make a terrific couple. Maybe then Rob wouldn’t look so sad all the time.
    Mona picked up another curtain rod. “Are you interested in him?”
    “Am I interested? Yes. Will I act on it? No.”
    “What?” Charlie said. “Why not? What’s wrong with my brother?”
    “So what I saw on the driveway—”
    “Wasn’t started by me. I know better than to get involved.” Bridget stood on the stool and snapped the curtain rod in place.
    “What did you see? What did you see?” Charlie asked Mona, as if the woman could hear her. She’d been over at Mr. Murdock’s watching the Reds game when Robbie and Bridget returned from dinner and hadn’t thought her brother would make any kind of move. Not yet, anyway. “Dammit. I miss all the good stuff.”
    “But, honey, if you like him…”
    “It doesn’t matter.”
    Like hell it didn’t matter. Charlie floated back and forth. Bridget didn’t know a good thing when she saw it. There was no one better than Robbie.
    “Sweetie. Are you going to push away every young man that shows interest?”
    “You tell her, Mom.” Someone needed to talk some sense into Bridget.
    “Weren’t you just telling me not to get involved with my landlord?”
    Bridget stepped down and Mona stood, placing a hand on Bridget’s shoulder. “That was your mother talking. Your friend is trying to understand you.”
    Bridget fluffed out the hung curtain. “Can we talk about something else?”
    Mona scooped the trash into a bag. “Okay. I’ll butt out for now. It’s getting late anyway. I should probably go home.”
    Charlie had meandered to the hallway when both women walked through her.
    Mona rubbed her arms. “Did you feel that?”
    “Feel what?”
    “That blast of cold air? Do you have the AC on?”
    “No. I don’t think so.” Bridget went to the thermostat in the hallway. “It’s all turned off.”
    “Maybe you have a leak somewhere. You might want to have Rob check it out.”
    “Did you really feel the cold air, or are you giving me an excuse to get him back here?”
    “Why would you need an excuse? Isn’t he coming back to fix up the place anyway?”
    “Good point. I’ll have him check into it.”
    Charlie floated into the living room. How was it Mona felt her, but not Bridget? Bridget had also walked through her. What was up with that?
    Mona grabbed her purse and kissed Bridget good night. As soon as her mother left the house, Bridget grabbed her temples and doubled over.
    Charlie popped over to her. “Are you okay?”
    Bridget jumped and bumped into the door. “Shit!” She looked up. “Oh great. You’re back.”
    “I was never gone. You just can’t see me when someone else is around. What’s the matter with your head?”
    “I think you are.” Bridget stumbled into the kitchen, opened a cupboard, and pulled out a small bottle. “I get these bursts of pain whenever you appear.” She took two pills and washed them down with water.
    “My little calling card, huh?” When that didn’t elicit a laugh, Charlie forged ahead. “Do you believe I’m real?”
    “I believe you’re the ghost of Charlene Gentry.”
    “Hot damn!” Charlie rushed to Bridget and hugged her. Ahh, warmth. She could get used to this.
    Bridget squirmed free and went into the living room. “I want you to leave me alone. The last thing I need is the depressed ghost of someone who committed suicide.”
    Coldness enveloped her once again. “I am not depressed. And I did not kill myself. Carl did.”
    “Yeah, really? Then why did you leave a note?”
    “What are you talking about? I can’t leave any notes. I’m a ghost, remember?”
    “I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about your suicide .”
    “I didn’t commit suicide, and I didn’t leave a note. I swear to you, I didn’t.”
    Bridget paced