Free Ghostly Liaison by Stacy McKitrick Page B

the living room with a limp and her arms akimbo. “Then explain how Rob received an e-mail from you saying you couldn’t live without Nick.”
    “Robbie got an e-mail? From me? No wonder he thinks I offed myself. I swear, it wasn’t me. It had to be Carl.”
    “And how would Carl do that?”
    “From my laptop.” Crap. How many times had Nick told her to password protect that thing? “Maybe Robbie could get my computer dusted for prints? Wouldn’t that prove Carl used it?”
    Bridget stopped her pacing. “Had Carl ever used your computer before?”
    “Sure. All the time. Whenever I needed help, he’d be the one….” She stopped when Bridget had raised one eyebrow. “Okay, so I’m not thinking straight.”
    “You’re right. You aren’t. Neither am I. I was crazy to think I could help.”
    “What? No! You have to help. How else will my death be avenged? How else will I be able to leave?”
    “What good will I be when they put me in the loony bin?” Bridget made a circling motion around her ear. “Because that’s what will happen if I tell people you were murdered because you told me.”
    “So you don’t tell anyone how you know.”
    “Then what proof do I have to even suspect a murder?” Bridget collapsed onto the couch. “Listen, I want to help you. I can’t imagine what your life is like. But I need something concrete. And preferably easy. Do you understand?”
    Charlie understood all too well. There must be something. She gazed at the fireplace and then the damaged walls.
    “I think Nick might have hidden something here,” she said. “Would that help?”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “Why else would Carl tear this place apart? Can’t you find Nick and ask him? If you can see me, you have to be able to see him, too.”
    “Carl made this mess? Rob said they were tenants.”
    “Technically, they were. But they worked for Carl.”
    “You have proof? Did he come over?”
    “No. They talked on the phone. I know it was Carl.”
    Bridget nodded, but more like a sarcastic, yeah-sure kind of nod. “So why the hole in the bathroom? That doesn’t make any sense.”
    “Oh…well…that was me. Pretty impressive, huh? Scared the shit out of them!”
    Bridget’s eyes rounded. “You did that? You can actually move things?”
    “Yeah, but don’t ask me how, ’cause I still don’t know. I’ve tried to do it again, but only got small stuff to move. I guess I have to be superangry or something. It sure freaked me out, but at least I got rid of them.”
    Bridget leaned over. “You have nothing.”
    “Don’t give up. Please. You’re the first bit of hope I’ve had since I died. I’m certain once you bring Carl to justice I’ll be on my way. You just have to find Nick. He’s got to be the key to this whole thing.”
    “Then why don’t you go looking for him? What’s stopping you?”
    How could she tell Bridget she’d been no farther than Mr. Murdock’s without sounding pathetic? Even if she did venture farther out, it wouldn’t have mattered. “I don’t know where he died.”
    * * * *
    Bridget stared at her houseguest and shook her head. This was probably the most bizarre conversation she’d ever had. “What do you mean you don’t know where he died?”
    “I was kind of out of it at the time and Robbie refused to give me the address. But it was at one of his constructions sites. I just don’t know which one exactly.”
    “So, you don’t know where Nick died and you expect me to find him? If his spirit is still around, how come he hasn’t contacted you?”
    Charlie stared at the floor. “I don’t know. I don’t have all the answers. But maybe Nick does. Just ask Robbie for the address.”
    Bridget closed her eyes. No, not Rob again. Would every conversation she had end with him? She wouldn’t be surprised if he starred in her dreams tonight. Actually, that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
    “Why don’t you want to go out with him?” Charlie asked. “Do you think