Ghostly Liaison (39 page)

He slid to the floor and leaned against the wall. “You don’t look very well. How long do you think you’ll last?”

“Tell you what, if I think I’ll pass out, I’ll shoot you first, okay?”

Carl shivered. “Damn her.”

“Charlie making you cold again? I think I know why you killed her, and it had nothing to do with your embezzling Rob’s business, did it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Carl stretched his legs out and clasped his hands in his lap.

He was probably waiting for her to pass out. Not an unlikely scenario. But she’d get a confession out of him first.

“I talked to Nick. He told me what your fight was about.”

“You really are nuts, you know that?”

“You never thought Charlie was good enough for him, did you? I believe you said, ‘Once a druggie, always a druggie,’ isn’t that right?”

He squirmed. “He deserved better than her, but she managed to weasel her way into his life and blind him to the truth. She would have dragged him into the gutter with her.”

“You blame her for his death, don’t you?” Bridget asked. Her hands shook slightly as the gun grew heavier, but if she rested them on her knees, she might get too comfortable.

“Because it was her fault. He never would have—”

“Never would have, what? Accused you of embezzling?”

“She corrupted his mind. He never disrespected me before.”

“Is that why you lost it when he asked if she could work in the office?”

“He was nuts to ask. She wasn’t even qualified.”

She rotated her shoulders. “Oh, but that’s not why you didn’t want her in the office, is it? I think I get it now. Why the audits always came out okay. Margo fudged the numbers for you. Didn’t she? Did you get her to poison Barnaby, too?”

A stony, cold silence greeted her from across the room.

Bridget’s arms burned from the weight of the gun. Holding it was becoming harder and harder and she needed to end this now, even if she didn’t get that confession. What she had should at least give the police enough to go on. “Toss me your phone. Then we can all leave unharmed.”

Carl sat up straighter, placing his hands on either side of him. Was he going to pounce? At this point, she might be able to pull the trigger, but her aim would be a problem. Of course, this gun held six bullets, one was liable to hit. Hopefully, she survived with those odds.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Why don’t you let me go so you can get the help you need? You don’t want to kill anyone, do you? Besides, do you know how to turn off the safety?”

Spots marred her vision and she blinked several times. She would not give up. This stupid concussion would not get the best of her. She raised the gun above Carl’s head and pulled the trigger. Okay, so now she was down to a one in five chance. The deafening sound reverberated in the room and her arms recoiled upward, but she got her point across. Carl jumped.

The jolt also cleared her head. “Guess the safety’s not on after all,” she said. “Now toss me your phone.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. “I don’t think so.” He threw it against the fireplace, where it exploded into several pieces. He grinned as if he had the upper hand. “Now what?”

Damn him! The clearness she’d obtained a second ago faded. Even if someone had called in the shot, they wouldn’t get here fast enough. Her breathing grew ragged and her arm was turning into rubber. If she was going to pass out, she might as well do it outside where someone could see her. Carl might make a break for it, but unless she flat out killed him—and no matter how much he deserved it, she still needed to justify it—she couldn’t hold him back much longer. With her last bit of energy, she grabbed the doorknob, braced her body against the wall and stood. The room tilted. Her stomach churned.

“I’m guessing someone called the police from that gunshot. You can stay here while I go outside and wait.” Simple and easy. That’s all she had to do. With her back to the door, she opened it a crack, but the dizziness took over. Her legs gave out.

He ran toward her. She leveled the gun. He slammed into her, shutting the door, and grabbed her wrist. Pain flared, but she held on.

The blast reverberated as they fell to the floor.

If Rob could jam his leg through the seat in front of him and floor the accelerator, he would have done it. Instead, he sat trapped in the backseat of Sam’s SUV, making fists to keep from ripping anything, unable to will the vehicle faster. While Dean had been correct that Sam would be quicker than a cab, the drive was anything but. They must have caught every fucking red light.

Sam turned right onto Sycamore and Rob straightened. Finally! The car could stall out and he wouldn’t care, her place was within sight now. Sam pulled over to the right and stopped several houses short.

“What are you doing?” Rob asked.

Dean turned around in his seat. “If Carl is there, do you really want to—”

“Hell, yes.” Rob opened the door and jumped out of the SUV. He ran toward the house and was easily beat by Dean, who grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Rob, use your head. If he’s there, he could react badly. He could hurt her just to spite you.”

The door opened and slammed shut. The
crack
of gunfire ripped from the house and tore at Rob’s heart.

“No!” He shoved Dean out of the way and with a blast of energy he hadn’t thought possible, rushed to the house. She had to be all right. She just had to. He burst inside and froze.

Carl, sprawled on top of Bridget, had a knife in his back. Rob felt his heart fall into his stomach. Before he took a step toward them, Carl slid off her and landed on his side. Blood covered half the front of her shirt.

Fear propelled him to her side. “Dean! Call 9-1-1. She’s been shot!”

“What?” She blinked. He pulled up her shirt to investigate the wound, but she covered his hand. “Not shot.”

“Oh, thank God!” Tears of relief spilled from his eyes as he pulled her into his arms, but the fear returned as he held her. Blood matted the back of her head.

Dean appeared in the doorway. “I called 9-1-1. Is she okay?”

“No. She’s hurt.”

“I’m fine,” she said.

Again with the “I’m fines.” Was it the only phrase she knew with a head wound? Her speech was slurred and she could barely control her movements. “She’s not fine,” Rob said to Dean and then spoke to Bridget. “You’re bleeding.”

She looked down at her shirt in a slow, lazy way. “Not mine.”

“Not your shirt, your head.”

“Okay, you two argue about it. Help is on the way, regardless.” Dean crouched beside Carl and placed two fingers along his neck. “He’s still alive. How did you stab him in the back?”

“That would be me, you idiots! The baddest ass ghost who ever lived! Whoo hoo!”

Dean turned around. “Well, hello there.”

“Charlie?” Being told his sister had become a ghost, and getting proof when he’d heard her voice, had surprised him, to say the least. But seeing her—imitating Rocky Balboa at that—shocked the crap out of him.

Charlie’s eyes widened and she froze with her arms above her head. “Holy shit! You all can see me?” When everyone had nodded, she lowered her arms and offered them her guilty smile. “Sorry about that idiot remark. But to answer your question, I have this awesome power and once I recharged a little, bam! I let him have it.”

“Good thing. I was a goner.” Bridget pointed to her backpack, her arm shaking in the process. “Front pocket. Recorder. Hope it got everything.”

“You recorded it?” Charlie asked.

“Of course. How else you moving on?”

“Will it be enough?”

Dean pulled out the recorder and turned it off. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

Rob couldn’t believe Bridget had taken such a risk, but at least she was alive and in his arms. He may never let her go.

* * * *

Bridget smiled while something warm and scratchy caressed her cheek. Only one person could make her feel alive with his touch. She opened her eyes to the man she would spend the rest of her life with. Rob.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re back.”

Lying on her side, she looked around the hospital room. “Wasn’t this situation reversed just yesterday?”

He laughed. “Guess it was.”

“So, I guess you’ve been checked out now? What are your plans for the day?” She couldn’t imagine he’d want to spend all day in the hospital. Not after being a patient.

“Umm, the day is almost over, Bridget. I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“Almost over?” She sat up. Pain flared and she stopped.

Rob grabbed her shoulders and lowered her back to the bed. “Take it easy. Doctor says you have a concussion.”

“Did the doctor say when I can go home?”

“He told your parents they could take you home tomorrow, provided you became lucid before then. You’ve been in and out of it all day.”

No, no, not her parents. “That’s not the home I meant.”

“No?” He smiled. “You consider Charlie’s house your home?”

She shook her head slowly. “Not really.”

He frowned in puzzlement. “Then where?”

She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in close. “Wherever you are. If you still want me.”

He freed his shirt and kissed the knuckles on her hand. “I’ll always want you, Bridget. I love you.”

“Then you’ll marry me?”

“I think maybe you’re still out of it. Why don’t we wait—”

She placed two fingers across his lips. “I was stupid, okay? And maybe a little scared. But I don’t want to wait. I nearly lost you and I nearly died. I don’t want to waste another second. I love you. You’re who I want.”

A grin grew across his face. “Bridget, honey, you’ve certainly turned this day around. Gimme a kiss.”

He bent down and she held him back by his shoulders. “Is that a yes?”

“Hell, yeah, that’s a yes.”

“Okay, then.” She released him and his lips covered hers, in a tender, consuming kind of way. She could kiss him forever, and now that was possible.

“Hmm, should I come back later?” Dean leaned against the doorjamb, his arms folded across his chest.

Rob lingered for a moment longer and then smiled. He stood and held out his hand. “If I forgot to thank you, well, thank you.”

Dean took his hand. “All in a day’s work. You’re looking better, Bridget. I’m glad everything turned out okay. Which brings me to my visit.”

“Any word about Margo?” Rob asked as he sat back down.

“No. I guess she ran off after news hit about Carl’s incarceration. They’ll find her though. But I came to talk to Bridget.”

“Me?”

“Rob told me how you didn’t care for your current job and I thought you might want a change. How’d you like to work for me?”

“What?” Rob shot out of his chair. His yo-yo action made her dizzy. “Dean, she’s still recovering. And she has a concussion.”

“And you’re very protective, I get it.”

“Hey! Don’t I get a say in this?” She took Rob’s hand and pulled him to the edge of the bed. “You’re not going to control my life, are you?”

He squeezed her hand and solemnly looked at her. “No, of course not. It’s your life. I know that.”

“And my life includes you now. I wouldn’t make this kind of decision without discussing it with you. But first, I’d like to know what kind of job we’ll be discussing.”

Dean said, “It’s not dangerous work, well, usually. I could use someone to help research and analyze what they find, not to mention talking to ghosts. That’s a great ability.”

An ability, not a disability. She liked the sound of that. “And here I thought you needed someone to file.”

“Well, there is that, too.” Dean shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled.

“You want to do it, don’t you?” Rob asked.

“I think I do. Kate doesn’t need me. She only hired me because I’m family.”

“And nursing?”

She shook her head.

“Rob, your case has been the most dangerous I’ve ever taken on. And Bridget did most of the work. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Rob ran his fingers down her cheek. “You wouldn’t risk your life, would you?”

“Trust me, I won’t be doing anything like that again. Not unless your life is in danger. I plan on being married to you for a good long time.”

“Married?” Dean slapped Rob’s back. “Well, congratulations you two. And no rush on a decision. I’m not going anywhere. Take it easy, Bridget. I think Rob will rest easier then.” He wished them both well and left.

“If you’re uncomfortable with me taking this job…”

“I’m concerned about you going back to
any
job too early. I just want you healthy first. And I want to be the one who takes care of you. Then there’s the matter of our honeymoon. I think two weeks anywhere sounds good.”

She hugged him. “Two weeks and a lifetime.”

Charlie hovered over the house. When her brother’s truck turned down the street, she smiled. They hadn’t been by in like, forever. Not since the paramedics had carted Bridget off to the hospital. Robbie had come by for her things Monday night, smiling as if he had a secret, and the only thing he shared was that Bridget would be fine and they would stop by later in the week.

Well, now it was later. Four days later. Way later than she’d anticipated. If not for Mr. Murdock and Mrs. Johnson, she’d have lost her mind. But watching those two lovebirds had been sweet and enjoyable. Much better than any television show.

Robbie pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. Both doors opened. Barnaby jumped out through the passenger door, with Bridget following behind. Robbie jogged around to help her, not that she seemed to have any problems standing. Charlie willed herself into the living room and waited.

The front door opened and Barnaby burst through first.

“Hey, baby!” Charlie looked up after Bridget and Robbie entered. “It’s about time you guys showed. I’ve been going nuts.”

He grinned like he had when he’d been a little boy and hit a home run. “Charlie, I’d like to introduce you to my wife.”

“Wife? You two got married?”

Bridget held up her left hand and flashed the gold band. “I followed your advice and listened to my heart.” She gazed at Robbie. “And my heart couldn’t wait.”