Page 47 of The Ghost and the Graveyard (Knight Games 1)
"That must have made for a difficult childhood."
The comment caught me off guard. "Not really. My dad has always been there for me. I mean, there were times I missed having a mom, but it's not the same as missing a person you actually knew. I'd never met her."
"Has your father ever told you the full story of how it happened?"
I considered his question. "I guess not really. I mean, I know now that she bled out. There's a medical term-disseminated intravascular coagulation, or DIC. No one was to blame. I work in the hospital where she died. Every year on my birthday, my dad used to send a card to the nurse who helped with my delivery."
"What was the nurse's name?"
"You know, I don't remember. I just know my dad thought the world of her."
"Ask your father. Ask him for the nurse's name."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because that's the clue I promised you."
"Oh, you can't be serious! What possible connection could there be? You made this up."
"That was our deal. Take it or leave it."
I sighed. "Take it."
He blinked out of sight and the omelet he made me slid across the table in my direction. "Eat."
I tucked the scrapbook in the cabinet under the island and took a seat on the barstool. "Thanks, Logan," I said, forking eggs into my mouth. I was usually a Pop Tarts-for-breakfast kind of girl. I wondered what my body would do with these newfound vitamins and minerals.
"I did a load of laundry too," his disembodied voice said. I couldn't make him out at all.
"Logan, you don't have to do my cooking or my cleaning." A pang of guilt cut through me for treating him like a spectral slave.
"It gives me something to do."
I smiled in the direction I thought he was in. "I appreciate it. I can't cook, and I'm a shitty housekeeper."
"There's a way you can pay me back."
"How?"
"Stay away from the caretaker."
Shaking my head, I said, "You never quit."
"The caretaker is dangerous for you, Grateful."
"So you keep telling me." I dropped my fork and checked the time. "Shit, I've gotta get ready for work." I lifted the plate to clear the table.
"Leave that for me. Go ahead. Get outta here."
"Thanks, Logan." I grabbed my keys and took him up on his offer to clean up.
* * * * *
The hospital where I work is thirty minutes from Red Grove. I hopped into my Jeep and peeled out of the driveway, hoping I could still make my shift on time. The sight of Rick painting the cemetery fence shirtless had me slamming on the brakes before I could say "gonna be late."
"I hoped I would catch you this morning," Rick called, dropping the paintbrush into the pan at his feet and walking toward me. "Would you have dinner with me tonight?"
I was having trouble concentrating. The memory of my dream from that morning was fresh in my mind. My body responded just thinking about it.
