twinkle in her eyes. She licked her lips and shifted on her chair.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I… well, I fear if you hire an assistant, they will not be able to see me.”
The sadness in her expression made him stand and move around the desk toward her. He sat on the empty chair beside her. “Don’t worry. If I hire an assistant, they’ll see me talking to ghosts and have me locked away in a psycho ward.”
Color bloomed on Abigail’s cheeks again and she laughed. “Very true. That wouldn’t be good for a man in your line of work.”
“You can say that again, Abby.”
At her sharp inhale, Nick realized she probably wasn’t used to being called by her first name. After all, she came from the early 1900s and grew up in high society, and no doubt everyone around her had followed the rules of etiquette.
“Forgive me, Miss Carlisle. I suppose I should ask your permission first to call you Abby.”
She lowered her gaze and nodded. “Yes, you may, but my name is Abigail. I have not been called Abby since I was a child.”
“Is it all right if I do?”
“Yes, Mr. Marshal.”
“No more Mr. Marshal from you. My name is Nick.”
She met his gaze with a wide smile. “All right. Nick.”
Was he hearing things or did it sound like she sighed his name?
Abigail cleared her throat and stood, moving away from him. He exhaled a deep breath, not aware he’d been holding it.
“I had a purpose coming to you tonight,” she said.
He leaned back in the chair and ran his fingers through his hair. “And what would that be?”
“I think your lady friend looks familiar.”
Nick sat up straight. “My lady friend ? I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“The one who was here a moment ago.”
“Oh, Vanessa.”
“Yes, the one who was with you the first day of our meeting. ”
He nodded. “Vanessa Westland.”
She tapped her finger on her chin. “That name isn’t familiar, but I know I have seen her before.”
He shrugged. “Her father owns the building. Perhaps you saw her before I moved in.”
“No, I don’t think so. In my mind, I can see her dressed as I am.”
Nick stood and walked toward her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She met his gaze. “Wearing a hat similar to mine with a big bow and everything.”
He stopped in front of her. “And this woman looks like Vanessa?”
“Remarkably so, yes.” Abby chuckled. “And she even has the same kind of attitude.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Like a spoiled brat?”
“Yes, as if the world should fall at her feet and do her bidding.”
Nick threw back his head and laughed. Scary to think there could be two women like Vanessa in the world within a century of each other.
He sat on the edge of his desk. “Well, I suppose I could ask her about how her family came to own Capitol One Associates.” He tilted his head and scratched his chin. “Do you think it might link to your murderer?”
“I couldn’t say, but since this building used to be mine and now it’s in her family, there is a remote chance we might find something that connects the two.”
The sound of footsteps in the hall warned Nick of Vanessa’s return. He stood and glanced toward the door.
Abigail must have heard because she gasped and stepped back. “I must go now.”
He reached to stop her, but she faded into a white mist. He slumped on the corner of his desk. She hadn’t given him any time to remind her that Vanessa couldn’t see her anyway.
Vanessa opened the door and walked in, carrying two bags. She looked as if she’d never left angrier than a disturbed hornet. He inhaled the delicious aroma of Chinese food, and his stomach rumbled.
“Vanessa, you’re a lifesaver. I’m so hungry I could eat a bear.”
She set the bags of food on his desk and leaned into him. “Bear wasn’t on the menu, but sweet and sour chicken was.”
He gripped her shoulders to move her away, but suddenly Vanessa yelped and jumped back. Sweet and sour sauce covered her hand and ran down
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I… well, I fear if you hire an assistant, they will not be able to see me.”
The sadness in her expression made him stand and move around the desk toward her. He sat on the empty chair beside her. “Don’t worry. If I hire an assistant, they’ll see me talking to ghosts and have me locked away in a psycho ward.”
Color bloomed on Abigail’s cheeks again and she laughed. “Very true. That wouldn’t be good for a man in your line of work.”
“You can say that again, Abby.”
At her sharp inhale, Nick realized she probably wasn’t used to being called by her first name. After all, she came from the early 1900s and grew up in high society, and no doubt everyone around her had followed the rules of etiquette.
“Forgive me, Miss Carlisle. I suppose I should ask your permission first to call you Abby.”
She lowered her gaze and nodded. “Yes, you may, but my name is Abigail. I have not been called Abby since I was a child.”
“Is it all right if I do?”
“Yes, Mr. Marshal.”
“No more Mr. Marshal from you. My name is Nick.”
She met his gaze with a wide smile. “All right. Nick.”
Was he hearing things or did it sound like she sighed his name?
Abigail cleared her throat and stood, moving away from him. He exhaled a deep breath, not aware he’d been holding it.
“I had a purpose coming to you tonight,” she said.
He leaned back in the chair and ran his fingers through his hair. “And what would that be?”
“I think your lady friend looks familiar.”
Nick sat up straight. “My lady friend ? I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“The one who was here a moment ago.”
“Oh, Vanessa.”
“Yes, the one who was with you the first day of our meeting. ”
He nodded. “Vanessa Westland.”
She tapped her finger on her chin. “That name isn’t familiar, but I know I have seen her before.”
He shrugged. “Her father owns the building. Perhaps you saw her before I moved in.”
“No, I don’t think so. In my mind, I can see her dressed as I am.”
Nick stood and walked toward her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She met his gaze. “Wearing a hat similar to mine with a big bow and everything.”
He stopped in front of her. “And this woman looks like Vanessa?”
“Remarkably so, yes.” Abby chuckled. “And she even has the same kind of attitude.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Like a spoiled brat?”
“Yes, as if the world should fall at her feet and do her bidding.”
Nick threw back his head and laughed. Scary to think there could be two women like Vanessa in the world within a century of each other.
He sat on the edge of his desk. “Well, I suppose I could ask her about how her family came to own Capitol One Associates.” He tilted his head and scratched his chin. “Do you think it might link to your murderer?”
“I couldn’t say, but since this building used to be mine and now it’s in her family, there is a remote chance we might find something that connects the two.”
The sound of footsteps in the hall warned Nick of Vanessa’s return. He stood and glanced toward the door.
Abigail must have heard because she gasped and stepped back. “I must go now.”
He reached to stop her, but she faded into a white mist. He slumped on the corner of his desk. She hadn’t given him any time to remind her that Vanessa couldn’t see her anyway.
Vanessa opened the door and walked in, carrying two bags. She looked as if she’d never left angrier than a disturbed hornet. He inhaled the delicious aroma of Chinese food, and his stomach rumbled.
“Vanessa, you’re a lifesaver. I’m so hungry I could eat a bear.”
She set the bags of food on his desk and leaned into him. “Bear wasn’t on the menu, but sweet and sour chicken was.”
He gripped her shoulders to move her away, but suddenly Vanessa yelped and jumped back. Sweet and sour sauce covered her hand and ran down
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