Free Ghoul of My Dreams (Larue Donavan Series Book 4) by Rose Pressey

tossed her hands up. “I don’t know. That’s just what he said.”
    “But he could see you, right?”
    She nodded. “He spoke to me when I addressed him.”
    “I have to find him,” I said continuing toward the boutique.
    This man was odd. How could he see the spirits yet not believe they were real?
    I stepped inside the clothing shop. The place was decorated with turquoise and white with walls painted in stripes and racks of expensive clothing dotted the space. Dressing rooms were on the left middle way down the room and the checkout counter was across from them on the right. Cooper Garrett owned the place, but he was out-of-town on vacation. A few people were shopping around the space, but I didn’t see the man. Where had he gone? He couldn’t have simply disappeared.
    The petite blonde working the shop today approached. “Hi, Larue. Can I help you find something?”
    “Did a man just come in here?” I scanned the space again.
    “No, I didn’t see a man.” She looked around the shop, too.
    “Is there a back door?” I couldn’t remember. Some of the buildings had rear entrances with parking.
    She gestured. “Yes, we do have a back door.”
    “Oh, thanks.” I weaved around racks of clothing and rushed toward the rear.
    She’d probably tell everyone in town how strangely I’d acted. Oh well, nothing new there. When I reached the door, I shoved it open and stepped out into the bright sunshine. I spotted the man again right away.
    “Hey you,” I called out. “I need to speak with you.”
    “Is he a ghost?” Marilyn asked.
    I glanced at her. “I don’t think so.”
    What would make her think that? The man glanced my way, but kept walking. I ran across the parking lot and finally caught up with him.
    “Excuse me,” I said when I was next to him. “I need to speak with you.”
    He stopped and stared right at me. “Yes?”
    My mother would call his dark eyes “bedroom eyes.” His messy black hair seemed as if he hadn’t spent much time styling it this morning. As he stared at me, there was no sign that he would offer the slightest of smiles. His full lips were pressed together into a straight line. He towered above my five foot one height. I guessed him to be about six foot two or three. I’d never seen this guy in town before. Of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t from around here, but I thought I knew just about everyone.
    “I saw you at the coffee shop,” I said.
    “I saw you, too,” he said and then took a sip from his cup.
    Callahan usually wrote the person’s name on the cup. I tried to read what was written, but the man’s hand was covering most of the black marking.
    I glanced over my shoulder. Marilyn and Roger stood behind me taking in the conversation with every ounce of their attention.
    “Am I the only one you saw?” I studied his face for a reaction.
    I didn’t know how else to ask the question. He regarded me for a moment. It was as if we were in a standoff to see who would speak first.
    “Someone say something,” Roger demanded.
    “Yes. I saw other people there,” the man answered.
    It looked as if I was going to have to get right to the point. 
    “I know you saw the dark shadow, as well. I watched you watch it.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest and waited for an answer.
    “I really need to go now.” He gestured over his shoulder and then turned away.
    “Please, be honest with me.” I jumped out in front of him.
    Why was he being secretive?
    He moved a couple steps back as if he was ready to sprint.
    “My name is Larue Donavan. I own the bookstore next to the coffee shop.” I searched his eyes, wondering why he was avoiding answering me.
    He started to walk away. “It was nice meeting you, Ms. Donavan.”
    “You can’t let him get away, Larue,” Marilyn said.
    I rushed to catch up to him. “I know you can see Marilyn Monroe behind me.”
    He stopped and peered back at Marilyn. “Okay, I guess I have to know why you have the ghost of Marilyn