If You're Haunted Flaunt It by Sharon Saracino

Author:Sharon Saracino [Saracino, Sharon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Suspense, Paranormal, Fantasy, Ghosts, Psychic
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2016-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The ground rules remained in effect for all of one hour and ten minutes. Darla disappeared for parts unknown as I tidied up the kitchen and stuck my head through the half open door to check on Gran, who was already snoring peacefully. I blew a kiss to Grandpoppy floating in the corner of her room. Then I gathered up my PJs and headed for the shower. I lathered, scrubbed, exfoliated, and shaved, then simply stood there and allowed the hot water to sluice over my head and down my body in sheets. I could have been content to remain in that position, enjoying the peace and soothing warmth indefinitely. I could have, but the appearance of Darla’s grinning face and upper body dissecting the center of my shower curtain shattered my Zen.

“Sacred space! Sacred space!” I sputtered, hunching forward with an arm thrown across my breasts and a hand strategically, if ineffectually, covering my lady parts.

“Oh, did you mean the entire room?” Darla’s brows flew into her hairline, and her teeth worried at her lower lip. “I assumed you meant when you were, you know, taking care of business. It’s not as if I’d care to be present for that anyway. I mean, eww.”

“And you do care to be present for my naked hygiene?”

“I hadn’t actually thought of it that way, however as long as I’m here, I feel compelled to mention a bikini wax might be in order.”

“Out!” I reached around the shower curtain, groping for the towel, and quickly yanked it around myself.

“But I remembered something.”

“I don’t care. Out!” I yanked open the plastic curtain with enough force to send Darla’s unsuspecting spirit into a backflip across the room and stepped out onto the bathmat with as much dignity as I could muster. Which, at this point, was zero.

“I know why the woman with Harlan seemed so familiar. I remember her now, Lucy. She was there when I died.”

“At the hospital?” I frowned, shoving my arms into my robe and gathering it around me over the towel, before letting the sopping fabric fall to the floor beneath. Though my skin remained uncomfortably damp, and water dripped from the ends of my snarled hair, no way would I open myself up to further inspection and unsolicited grooming suggestions.

“No, at the doctor’s office. She must be a medical office assistant or something. She prepared the medication and handed the syringes to the doctor. What if it wasn’t Botox in those syringes, at all?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” My tone clearly communicated my opinion of her amateur sleuthing, but a tiny coil of unease unwound in my stomach. Harlan gave his wife a gift certificate for the injections. Now he appeared to be involved with the woman who worked at that particular office, a woman who’d been assisting when Darla died. Had they been involved before Darla’s death? If so, were Darla’s outlandish suspicions really so outlandish? And if they did have some basis in fact, what in the hell was

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