C.F. Fowler - Marion Rogers 01 - A Ghost's Vengeance Read Free

— the more the hunted person is wearing, the more clothes that are holding the scent.” She knew he wouldn’t understand but she found it to be a fact. The spirit could not find the haunted person easily and one night in a hotel would provide only a brief respite to Mr. Jergins.
    Josh paused as he was considering how to present the client with the proposal. “OK, give me a few minutes to call him back. When can you get back up there? Give me a few options so we can try to match up with his availability.”
    Marion mentally ran through her plans for the day. Oh yeah , she thought, I don’t have any . “I’m available all day, just set a time that’s good for him.”
    After hanging up she went to the kitchen for a glass of water and three aspirin. Then showered, dressed and wondered what was taking Josh so long to get back to her. Tying her hair back she realized how anorexic she looked. Oh well , she thought, leave it down. I don’t need little old ladies telling me to eat something. Her phone buzzed, indicating a text message. “Three o’clock at the client’s home” was the message from Josh. Wonderful , she thought, let me get some coffee .
      Marion grabbed some cash, her keys, put on her Dodger cap and headed out on foot to a coffee house a couple of blocks away. The day was beautiful and the walk would invigorate her. Living in Southern California had its advantages. Springtime in Los Angeles brought sunshine and 70-degree weather. The short walk took her down tree-lined streets with a quick walk through a tunnel beneath the Ventura Freeway. In no time she was walking along Ventura Boulevard. Since she had slept late, rush hour had passed and traffic was moderate. Approaching the counter of the coffee house, the young man behind the counter greeted her.
      “Hey Marion! How’s it goin’?”
      “Good Mark, how’s it with you?”
      “Can’t complain, want your usual?”
      “Yes, please, and how about a banana nut muffin?”
      “Right away.”
      She paid and took her coffee and muffin to a patio table. After a sip of her coffee she heard a male voice say, “Small world isn’t it?” She looked across the patio and saw Detective Baxter sitting at a table with coffee and an empty plate in front of him.
      “It is a small world, or am I under surveillance too?” she responded.
      He smiled, picked up his coffee cup, and approached her table. “No, no surveillance. I live a couple of blocks away. May I?” he gestured toward the empty chair at her table.
      “Of course, sit,” she responded, “You can understand how I might think otherwise considering our conversation yesterday.”
      He smiled, “Sure can. I can’t believe I never noticed you here before. I’m here a few mornings a week.”
      “I’m not normally here this late. I’m enjoying some down time.” She was unsure how to talk with the detective – or what motives he might have to run into her. Great , she thought, now I’m getting paranoid . “And you are not keeping an eye on my client today?”
      The detective said, “Have the morning off. I’ll be taking over around three today.” He took a sip of his coffee and she tried to read his face. Did he know? Was he able to intercept her text messages? “I’m glad I ran into you today. We have a friend in common.”
      “Really,” she responded, “and who would that be?”
      “Sandy Moore. She says she took classes with you at UCLA.”
      “Yes, we did more than take classes. But I hope she didn’t tell you that! How do you know Sandy?”
      The detective smiled and said, “Sandy dated my roommate at UCLA. By the look on your face I’m thinking you didn’t think cops went to college.”
      “No! Not at all! Just amazed at that small world you mentioned.” Sandy knew about her gift, curse, whatever it was. Would she have mentioned that to him? “How did my name come up, detective?”
      “Please, call me Gordon. It’s that small world