Page 64 of The Ghost and the Graveyard (Knight Games 1)
"Yes. I did."
I tucked my hair behind my ear and bit my lip. "I was afraid you might say that. It doesn't feel right to pursue something with you. I'm sorry."
"Is it because I don't have a body?"
"No," I said. "It's not just because you're a ghost. You're a good man, Logan, and I do find you attractive. I'm just not...available."
The expression that rippled through him made his aura glow brighter and the lights blink. "Because of the caretaker." He said caretaker like it was a curse.
"I need to go." I grabbed my purse off the dresser and passed him to get to the door.
"This can't wait. There's something else I need to tell you."
I stopped in the hallway. "What is it?"
"You asked me to talk to Prudence."
"Yes! Will she speak with me?"
He frowned. "Only in the attic. Unfortunately, you'll need a key. The door that opens for me is a metaphysical one. It won't work for you."
"She's come out before. Why can't she talk to me down here?"
"Prudence has different rules. The key is like an, um, pass to speak with her."
"Huh. That's why she was like "find the key" blah-blah-blah."
"Uhuh."
"Crap. I haven't been able to find it. I'll have to look later. I'm really late." I strode toward the staircase.
Logan rippled next to me. His ghostly hands balled into fists. "You need to ask the caretaker to tell you the truth."
I paused in the foyer. "What would Rick know about any of this?"
"Listen, I can't say any more than I have. But there's something I want you to know."
"What?"
"The caretaker has a story about how things are and how things will be. I just want you to know that, as far as I'm concerned, you have a choice about how this story ends. You should choose what's best for you."
"What? What choice? What is Rick going to tell me?"
Logan shook his head, looked at the floor, and dissolved without uttering another word.
"That was childish," I yelled at the ceiling. "If you have something to say, just say it. Enough with these cryptic messages." Arms crossed, I stomped my foot. "See you later, Logan. Much later. Maybe then you'll give me a clue what you're talking about."
I tucked my purse under my arm and headed out the door toward Rick's place. Of all the houses in the world, I had to move into the one with some wicked ghostly mystery. If I didn't get some answers soon, I was going to wig out. I mean, I think I'd been more than patient with the supernatural in my life. What was this big secret? Logan said that Rick would tell me, but as far as I knew, Rick didn't even know about Logan. And how did Prudence play into all of this?
Beyond the bridge, I could hear the wind chimes singing in the evening breeze. I stopped in front of the door to Rick's stone cottage but was distracted by a faint glow moving behind the cemetery gates across the street. It looked like someone walking with a candle in the distance.
"Rick?" I called toward the cemetery.
"I'm here," Rick said from behind me.
I turned around to face a work of art in the frame of the doorway. His white shirt stretched across his chest as if the fabric itself enjoyed the feel of him. The denim of his jeans hugged his narrow hips and hung to his bare feet. The material looked silky, maybe something designed in Europe that you'd see a movie star wear. For someone who worked with his hands, Rick was oddly fashionable.
"I thought I saw someone in the cemetery. I thought it was you."
