He still stood inches away from the entrance to the hallway. If she wanted to get to the bedroom and her suitcase, she had to walk right by him. If he’d been alive, she wouldn’t have done it in a million years: it would have offered him way too good an opportunity to grab her. But in his current state he couldn’t grab anyone—she didn’t think. Remembering his failed attempt with her robe partly steadied her frazzled nerves. Keeping careful watch out of the corner of her eye for any sudden moves he might make, she marched past him with what she considered commendable aplomb, even managing not to speed it up when he turned and followed her.
“About that. You sure there’s no way you could, like, hook me up to life support or something and bring me back?”
The skin between her shoulder blades prickled, and she guessed it was because his eyes were boring into her back. Then the sensation disappeared. Either he’d quit looking, or, more likely, was staring at a body part that was lower down—like her butt.
Charlie’s brows snapped together.
“I’m sure. There’s no way. Sorry to break it to you, but even aside from the injury you sustained, your body is by now past being able to support life.”
“What does that mean?”
Sometimes, Charlie thought, you just had to spell things out. “You ever hear of decomposition?”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah.” There was a certain grim satisfaction in her tone. “You’re going to have to move on, because your life as you knew it is over.”
“Fuck,” Garland said. “That SOB Nash. I hope he rots in the hole.”
Nash, Charlie remembered, was the name of the inmate who had killed him. Allegedly.
“I’m sure he will.”
“Nah, they’ll probably give him a medal. I was a real pain in the ass.”
“Yes,” Charlie agreed before she could stop herself. “You were.”
“I never did one bad thing to you, Doc. You can’t say I did.”
Garland stopped in the bedroom doorway to watch as Charlie grabbed her suitcase and heaved it up onto the bed. In the process she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the dresser. Appalled at what met her gaze, she took instant stock: barefoot, clad only in her white terry robe, she was still damp from the shower. Scrubbed free of every last trace of makeup, her face looked tired and pale. To add insult to injury, the shower cap was still on her head.
Verdict: not hot.
In quick, instinctive reaction, she pulled the shower cap off. Her hair spilled down to her shoulders, its rich chestnut color and heat-and-moisture-induced waves immediately upping her sexy quotient by, she saw with relief, a considerable degree. She was just lifting a hand to brush some wayward strands off her forehead when she met Garland’s eyes in the mirror.
The carnal glint was back. His eyes were very blue now, and his mouth had taken on a sensual curve. He was watching her with what she could only describe as lust. Charlie’s breath suspended. Her pulse quickened. Answering heat flamed through her veins. Then she caught herself. The guy was gorgeous, no doubt about it. Even with everything she knew about him, including the absolutely-should-have-been-chemistry-killing twin facts that he was a psychopath and dead, the sad truth was that she had snatched off her shower cap because she had been concerned with how she looked to him.
That’s some serious sick, girl.
She would have plopped the shower cap back on her head again if doing so wouldn’t have been absolutely ridiculous. Also, a total giveaway.
Not only would letting him know she found him attractive be embarrassing, it might also be dangerous.
She didn’t know exactly what it took to trigger his urge to kill, but she did know she didn’t want to find out.
Whether he still possessed the capacity to follow through or not.
“You lied about what you saw in the inkblots,” she accused to distract him, and dug down deep in her suitcase, feeling around beneath her underwear and workout gear and running shoes, hunting for the only weapons she had.
“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. You’re the expert. You figure it out.” He glanced around. “Where the hell are we anyway? Is this your place?”
“This is an apartment in a beach house just outside of Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina.”
“So how did we get here?”
“I flew. In an airplane. I have no idea how you got here.” Having located what she needed, she scooped the items up in one hand, then with the other picked up and dropped the bottle of Tums on the floor.
“Oops,” she said as it hit. Okay, that had sounded fake even to her. Well, nothing she could do about it, and he didn’t appear to notice. Crouching to pick up the bottle, she used the cover provided by the bed to slip the items she needed into her robe pockets without Garland seeing what she was doing. Then she grabbed the bottle of Tums and straightened to her full height again. Ostentatiously she opened the bottle and shook two tablets into her palm. So far seeing him hadn’t made her feel sick to her stomach—too much commotion surrounding the visitation, probably—but there was no point in taking any chances. Besides, she needed an excuse to go to the kitchen.
“What’s that?”
“Medicine. If you’ll get out of my way, I’m going to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water to wash it down.” The tablets were actually chewable, but she was absolutely willing to lie about needing water to take them if it got her into the kitchen.
“Why do you need medicine?”
“Ghosts make me nauseous.” Closing her fist around the Tums, she walked determinedly toward him as she spoke. She had no way of knowing for sure, but she was gambling on the supposition that the best way to manage a predator like Garland hadn’t changed just because he was no longer alive. Rule one, show no fear.
“Are you telling me I make you want to puke?” He grinned as he moved out of her path, and with a silent sigh of relief Charlie made it past him. “You probably want to work on getting over that.”
“What I want to work on is not seeing ghosts,” she flung over her shoulder. “Present company not excepted.”
He was following her again. This time, though, it was what she had hoped for. Even if the mere thought of how he was likely to react to what she was about to do kinda/sorta scared her to death.
“Believe me, it’s better to see one than be one,” he said.
“Funny.”
“You see all ghosts? Or am I special?”
“I can see the spirits of people who’ve suffered recent, violent deaths. Sometimes.”
“I got to say, you’re a woman of unexpected talents, Doc. Who woulda thought the Ridge’s uptight, no-nonsense, my-way-or-the-highway shrink was some kind of closet psychic?” His tone turned reflective. “Or that you looked that good naked, for that matter.”
“You know what, Garland? I’d drop that line of conversation right now if I were you.”
Charlie walked into the kitchen. The stove, sink, and refrigerator were all lined up against the back wall. Popping the Tums in her mouth, she chewed as she opened a cabinet, pulled out a glass, and turned on the tap.
“You don’t like being told you look hot in your birthday suit, Doc? Now, me, I would’ve thought you’d have been pissed if I hadn’t noticed.”
Filling the glass partway up with water, she took a sip, swallowing like she needed it to at least kill the taste. What she wanted was to keep him off guard until she got everything in place. All she needed now was an open flame and a little resolution, and the thing was done.
“Then you would have thought wrong,” she replied with bite, setting the glass down.
“Come on, Doc, tell the truth. You like having a killer bod. You like me thinking you have a killer bod.”
He had been staring hard at the running water, Charlie saw as she shut off the tap and turned around. As his focus switched back to her, she felt the full impact of his presence. Close enough that she could reach out and touch him if she wanted to, he stood just inside the opening between the kitchen and sitting room, blocking the only way out. With his chiseled face and sculpted body, he oozed sex appeal—and, since she knew what he was, menace. He looked intimidatingly tall and powerful and as solid as the wall. If he were alive, he could have grabbed her in a heartbeat and almost certainly overpowered her despite any resistance she might put up.