Ghost for Sale by Sandra Cox

long, lean fingers on each side of his head and pushed his hair back. The moment his hands dropped, it sprang back. “One moment, I’m floating in darkness. In the old general store, I think.” He wrinkled his forehead. “It’s all very strange. It’s like my room above the general store superimposed on a more modern room where people I don’t know go in and out. I could smell the sweat and cologne of strangers, and the scent of my mother’s laundry soap all at the same time. I was there and yet I wasn’t. Not like I am now. It’s like they were on the periphery of my consciousness.
    “Anyway, the next thing I know some maniac, with hair standing all over his head and wearing glasses that are taped together, is clicking a little box that looks like a miniature camera. Every time he clicked, a green light shot out of the camera. Next, he turned on an apparatus with a hose that made a rumbling noise and, poof , I’m sucked down that hose into a cylinder bottle.” He shook his head. “It was stranger than being dead.”
    “Fascinating.”
    “No doubt.” He grimaced.
    “I’m sorry. I’m sure it wasn’t fun. But wow!” I remembered the second test tube. “There were two test tubes.”
    “That’s right.” His face lost all expression.
    “Do you know who was in the second?”
    He rose from the chair and drifted away. For several moments, he stared at the glistening water in the pool. Finally, he faced me. “Anna.”
     
     

Chapter 5
     
    “Your twin?” Poor Liam.
    “What in the world are you doing talking to an empty chair?” Marcy had changed into white short-shorts and a fitted navy top. She looked both fresh and sexy. By the glazed look in Liam’s eyes, he thought so too.
    Inspiration hit me like a bolt from the sky or divine intervention—not to mention my increased ability to lie. “I’m trying out for a part in the local theater.” B.S.-ing was an art form I’d always highly admired but never been able to master.
    “Really? I didn’t think you had any interest in the theater.” She sank down on Liam’s lounge chair. I opened my mouth to warn her but had no idea what to say. Don’t sit on the ghost? Before I could formulate a plan, she sprang up. Liam had better not have pinched her!
    He had a very satisfied male smirk on his face. When he caught my look of disapproval, his gaze turned pious.
    “What happened?” I asked cautiously.
    “I just got an electric shock. Have those cushions shocked you?” She rubbed her bum.
    “Yes, now that you mention it,” I lied again. Invention was the mother of necessity. Or necessity was the mother of invention. Whatever.
    “I’m going to have Lulu spray those cushions with an antistatic.”
    “Good idea. Did you want something?”
    “Oh, yeah.” She snapped her fingers. “Patrick’s on the phone.”
    “Patrick?” For a moment, my mind went blank.
    “You know, the hunky biology major you met last night. At least that’s what I thought you said.”
    “Oh, yeah, average face, good body. Yup, that’s what I said.” I pushed off the lounge chair and headed for the cottage. Marcy walked back with me.
    Liam stood by the pool, his thumbs hooked in his waistband, as he stared into the water.
    “Marcy, I’m going to grab my tea. I’ll be right there.” I trotted back, my sandals clopping against the pavement.
    When I reached Liam, I leaned forward and whispered, my gaze traveling superstitiously around the pool. “Is she here?”
    “Anna?”
    “Yes.”
    “Unfortunately not. She escaped somewhere between here and Florida.”
    My heart gave a ka-thump of surprise.
    “Cat, are you coming?” Marcy called out.
    “Listen, I’ve got to take this phone call, but I’ll be back.”
    “The guy from Jimmy’s?” He rocked back on his heels, his face expressionless.
    “Yes.” I tried to gauge his mood.
    He waved me off. “Go on, girl. Take your phone call.”
    I hurried into the hall and picked up the phone.