Ghostly Liaison by Stacy McKitrick

you’re too good for him?”
    “Oh my God. How much have you heard tonight?”
    “I’ve heard everything. What else is there to do?”
    “Will I have no privacy?”
    “Of course you’ll have privacy. I’m not a perv.”
    The ibuprofen was useless. Bridget’s headache remained and her muscles still objected to any kind of exertion. Walking around at the store shopping for curtains had only aggravated her knee. She stood and faced Charlie. “I’m going to take a bath, and then I’m going to bed. I’d prefer to do both without you hanging around. Will that be possible?”
    “I left you alone last night and this morning, didn’t I? But I gotta know. Are you going to ask about Nick?”
    “I’ll see if I can find out where he died without bringing Rob into this. Then you can go find him.”
    “Okay, okay. I can do that. Thank you.”
    Bridget took a step toward the bedroom.
    “Before you go,” Charlie pleaded. “Will you turn on the TV?”
     
     

Chapter 8
     
    Rob parked in front of the office and hopped out of the truck, Barnaby right on his heels. Two more items on his to-do list and then he could head over to Charlie’s. Except, now it would be Bridget’s. At least temporarily.
    When he opened the door, the dog dashed inside, knocking him off balance. He gripped the frame, preventing him from landing on his ass. One of these days Barnaby would break his leg.
    He tossed his paperwork into the in-box. Item one scratched off. On to item two. He went to the receptionist area, but instead of Linda greeting him with her sunny disposition, the part-time bookkeeper, Margo, scowled. She couldn’t be more than five years older than Rob, but with that frown, she looked ancient. Why couldn’t she smile at him like she did at Carl?
    Barnaby trotted around the desk and jumped into her lap. With a yelp, she pushed the dog away and stood, brushing her white skirt, which now contained dusty paw prints that just wouldn’t go away. “Now look what he’s done.”
    Dammit. Okay, so maybe she directed the frown toward the dog. Linda never minded Barnaby’s affection. In fact, she always egged him on. Margo, on the other hand, seemed to hate everything and everyone. Well, everyone except Carl.
    Rob came around the desk and grabbed the dog’s collar. Margo’s designer suit looked great on her curvaceous body, but totally inappropriate for the job.
    “I’m sorry. I’ll take care of the cleaning bill. Like I told you before, you don’t have to dress up. You should consider wearing jeans.” As if he hadn’t told her at least a dozen times. He dragged Barnaby back around the front of the desk and snatched a leash, which hung on a hook by the door. “Where’s Linda?”
    Giving up on her skirt, Margo sat back in the chair with a grunt and straightened some papers. “She had some kind of an emergency. Car—Mr. Anders called and asked if I would sit in for the day. But if I had known you were bringing that monster in here, I would have declined.”
    She’d almost slipped up there. He wouldn’t be surprised if Carl was sleeping with the woman. She was just his type—big breasted, well dressed, and young.
    He secured the leash on Barnaby’s collar and hooked the end around his wrist. The dog may be over anxious, but hardly a monster. At least this visit would be short. “I need the envelope a courier dropped off for me.”
    “I gave that to Mr. Anders.”
    If he’d held a pencil in his hand, he’d have surely snapped it in two. After counting to three, he placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Was it addressed to Mr. Anders?”
    Margo flinched and scooted back into her chair. “No, but it was from the lawyer’s office. I thought Mr. Anders took care of all the legal paperwork.”
    “He does, but if I recall, business documents are addressed to him.” He straightened and headed for the hall. Damn. So much for leaving early.
    Carl’s office was situated on the other end of the small building.