Ghost Talker

Ghost Talker by Robin D. Owens

Book: Ghost Talker by Robin D. Owens Read Free Book Online
Authors: Robin D. Owens
them and organize them, let alone cross reference the entries.”
    Enzo crossed over and sat next to Clare.
I wasn’t with my friend Sandra then. Or if I was, I was only a live dog, and didn’t know nothing about ghosts.
    â€œThat’s okay, Enzo. I love you.”
    I love you, too, Clare. And I love you, Zach.
    â€œLikewise,” Zach said, but the discussion with the Other irritated him. “We don’t know enough.”
    â€œNo, and I doubt if I—we—summoned the Other again, he would come, or if he came, he would say anything useful.” Clare stood, took her and Desiree’s cups to the kitchen, and washed them.
    Maybe I can ask around about hurts like yours
, Enzo offered.
Maybe Caden’s new spirit dog in Creede knows more than I do. I haven’t had time to talk to her much.
Enzo pranced around, through furniture.
    â€œHer,” Zach murmured.
    â€œGo ahead.” Clare waved southwest in the general direction of Creede, about a five hours’ drive away.
    Enzo blurred into a gray-and-white streak as he left.
    Clare smiled after him until she noticed that Zach blocked the doorway from the kitchen to the living room. “I don’t like this whole spectral wound business,” he said.
    â€œYou think I do?” She put her hands on his shirt, rubbed up and down once—like she had with Enzo?—and pushed, so he stepped back.
    â€œAll I can do right now about that wound is look through Sandra’s journals. Again. If you recall, her experience with an evil ghost amounted to a half-page story. Not a lot of help last week. There’s no knowing whether whatever she wrote about non-physical wounds inflicted by ghosts will be at all useful either.”
    â€œI get it,” he said, and moved restlessly. “But I don’t like letting an issue like this drop.”
    â€œDesiree and Mrs. Flinton will look into it for me—us.”
    â€œI don’t trust them as much as I do us.”
    â€œI hear you.” She paused. “But we’ve done all we can for now.”
    â€œAnd you’re tired of the topic.”
    â€œThat’s right. It’s a relief that Great-Aunt Sandra once had a wound like mine, too.”
    â€œOkay. So you’re going to look through your aunt’s journals on this. Today.”
    â€œI do have Texas Jack—”
    â€œYou talked to him this morning. If you want to go up this evening for the poltergeist show, let me know and I’ll join you.”
    She stilled. “I see. You want me to ask Desiree for a ride home from here?”
    â€œI could drop you at home before I head for the office. Going to dig into various backgrounds. It’s better I access some databases under Rickman’s supervision, or have him get me in. I texted him earlier.”
    â€œOh. Looking into the background of Maurice Poche?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œKurtus Welliam?”
    He shook his head. “Clare, I know pretty much everything I need to about you.” He certainly knew how great she looked naked, how her skin felt against his palms, how her lips tasted.
    â€œAnd you probably did a background check on me when we first met,” she said in a resigned tone that tugged the truth straight from his gut—or maybe his heart.
    â€œI knew all I needed to know about you, Clare Milena Cermak, from the moment I looked into your eyes.” Her intriguingly shadowed eyes, which had drawn him, made him feel like she could understand him at some deep, instinctual level.
    And that he hadn’t even admitted to himself.
    Clare relaxed her stance, took a step toward him. The fine muscles of her face eased and the corners of her mouth tilted slightly upward. “But you ran my background anyway.”
    Zach raised his hands. “I didn’t have to. Rickman did it for me.”
    Now he saw a full smile. “Of course he did.”

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