How to Marry a Ghost by Hope McIntyre

Author:Hope McIntyre [MCINTYRE, HOPE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC022000
ISBN: 9780759571495
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2006-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

MIDWAY THROUGH THE MORNING OF YET ANOTHER glorious day, I realized with a certain amount of satisfaction that even though I had been at the cabin for less than a week I had already created a nest just like the one I had in London. I could come in, close the door, and dismiss the world outside. No one bothered me apart from a few squawking seagulls, but if I felt like company, I could pop over to the Old Stone Market and visit with Franny or pick up the phone and speak to Rufus.

And there was another reason why I was suddenly so content in my surroundings, one that I had a little trouble coming to terms with. I was on my own again. To be translated: Tommy wasn’t around. It was a bit of a shock but I had to admit that while I thought about him quite a bit, I didn’t actually miss him as much as I had thought I would.

Of course there was the trivial little detail that two grisly murders had been committed less than half a mile away and I had my very own personal nighttime prowler but you can’t have everything. And in the meantime I had a job to do.

I spent the day setting up my “office” in the desk area of the cabin and making notes on how to structure Shotgun’s story. I drove to East Hampton and bought the reference books without which I could not work—a dictionary, a thesaurus, maps—at BookHampton and I called Staples and ordered a printer, a supply of typing paper, and all the other stationery I needed. I was, as they say, all set.

I had planned to spend the evening preparing a leisurely supper of clams (provided by Rufus) and a tomato salad made with local tomatoes from the farmers market and fresh basil, and then I was going to tackle Tommy’s letter.

So when Martha appeared in the doorway brandishing a bottle of wine, I wasn’t happy.

“I’m not disturbing you, am I?” Whenever people said that, you could bet on it that they knew perfectly well that they were. “It was so good to talk to you the other day, I kind of hoped I’d find you here. And of course I wondered if you’d had a chance to—”

The look on her face was eager and pathetic and it infuriated me but I reminded myself that Martha had known Sean Marriott and I needed to keep her sweet. The one thing that could encourage me to be social was if it had something to do with my work. Yet why did she have to come and ruin my evening?

“I was just about to give the place a good clean,” I said in an attempt to steer her away. A total lie. I was hopeless at cleaning. Vacuum cleaners always saw me coming. I swear the minute I switched one on, it turned its suction off and began to shoot dust balls out all over the place.

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