“Strong, Sophie,” encouraged Marmi as Shane moved even closer. “Be strong.”
My feet felt heavy as ship anchors, unable to move. “I do.” I nodded vigorously. “Excellent job. Wonderful employer. I’m very happy there.”
“How long?”
Should have kept my mouth shut. Now I had to a) answer that question honestly and sound ridiculous since one day was hardly enough time to be boasting of success on the job; b) lie and make myself look good; or c) evade brilliantly. I decided to give brilliance a try. “Long enough.”
“Masterful dodge, my friend!” shouted Marmaduke, clapping. “Bravo.”
The urge to bow was intense, but I resisted. I also suppressed the Cheshire grin that desperately wanted to erupt on my face. “If you’re on duty,” I continued, buoyed by my attack of quick-wittedness, “what’s your business here?” I unstuck my anchor-weighted feet, maneuvered around Shane, onto the sidewalk, to the door, and then slipped the key into the lock. The entire move was made with such finesse that I made James Bond look like a klutz. I was on a dauntless roll and felt pretty darned proud of myself.
When I opened the door and stepped in, however, the security alarm began its warning beep, shattering my bravura. My mind blanked on the security code. It had seemed easy enough to remember the day before when Dr. Callahan gave it to me. So easy, in fact, that I neglected to actually write it down. Was it 4 0 8 8? Or 8 4 8 0? There was definitely a 4 and an 8, I knew that. A zero too. What was I missing? In a fit, I threw my purse to the floor, fully aware of Shane standing next to me, staring me down while I wracked my brain for the correct sequence of numbers.
Marmaduke sensed my memory loss. “Zero, four, two, eight,” he said.
That was it. I’d forgotten the two. “Thank you,” I mumbled while punching in the numbers on the alarm keypad. The unit double beeped, accepting the correct code, and I slammed the cover shut, only to realize Shane was giving me a queer look.
“Are you talking to ghosts again, Soph?”
I picked up my purse, regained my composure and stepped around behind the desk. “I told you, that was just a joke, Shane. Would you let it go?” Many months earlier, in my naiveté, believing Shane to be mature, nurturing, and open-minded, I had confided my secret to him, expecting support. Why I ever thought Shane was any of those things is beyond me, since I met Marmaduke on a night when Shane had stood me up. Forget naiveté, it was just plain stupidity. “By the way,” I said, deciding to fight fire with fire, “How’s Lame-y?”
“That’s not nice. You’re a better person than that.”
“Sorry. I forgot my manners. How’s Cockamamy?”
“Amy is fine.” He scanned his surroundings. “So this guy puts braces on kids’ teeth?”
“Optometrist you idiot. He’s an optometrist, not an orthodontist. Dr. Callahan is an eye doctor.”
“We got a report that someone has been casing your eye doctor’s office. That’s why I’m here.”
That caught my attention. “Really? Who called it in?”
“An accountant upstairs. Says she arrived around seven-forty-five this morning to find a white male, about five-ten, light brown hair, possibly early twenties, trying to break into this unit. When she shouted at him, he ran off.” He watched my reaction for a beat before continuing. “You see anyone around here by that description?”
Technically, I had not seen that kid hanging around the office yesterday, Marmaduke had. Truthfully, I had seen him the night before, possibly following Dr. Callahan, which was really, very creepy. The question was, should I tell Shane? Telling him that I had been with Dr. Callahan after business hours could make him very jealous. Did I want to make him jealous? As much as I hated him, there was something way-too animal that attracted me to him, so the desire to raise the green-eye monster was strong. On the other hand, if I mentioned the evening rendezvous, would the true purpose of our meeting come to light? I sure didn’t need to fuel Shane’s Sophie-sees-ghosts machinery. Finally, I opted for the easy way out.
“No,” I said. “Haven’t seen anyone matching that description around here, but I feel safe knowing Stephens City’s best is watching out for me. I’ll definitely keep my eyes peeled and let you know if I do. Thanks for stopping by. That door is the way out.” My hand motioned him to get a move on. “I need to get to work, please.”
“Be sure to alert your employer.”
“Will do. Bye-bye now.” I plopped my butt in the rolling chair and focused my attention on the laptop computer on the desk, powering it on.
“Good to see you again, Soph.”
I wouldn’t take my eyes off the still blank monitor. “Can’t say the same.”
When the door clicked shut, I let out a releasing sigh. In times of stress, I hold back my breath—I don’t actually stop breathing, but the shallow, short breaths lead to a lack of oxygen that only adds to my frazzled state of mind. It was good to have Shane out of the office, only now I was plagued with concern for Dr. Callahan.
Marmaduke stood near the door glaring through the glass panes. “If only these fists were made of skin and bone—I’d punch that bloke from here to Kalamazoo.”
“That would be unfair to Kalamazoonians.” I rubbed my temples and then set myself to getting some work done.
Dr. Callahan arrived a few minutes before ten, a tight frown on his face and an even gloomier looking Moonflower floating above him. Either he’d had trouble sleeping as well or Moonflower was giving him trouble. Or possibly the latter causing the former.
His nod was terse. “Morning, Sophie.” With a laptop case flung over his shoulder, he made a beeline for his examining room.
“I made you a pot of coffee,” I said sweetly.
He stopped abruptly and his shoulders relaxed. “Really? You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I was here, so why not. You do drink coffee, right? I saw the pot and the can in the kitchenette.”
He nodded. “Definitely. Did you make yourself a cup?”
I shook my head. “Not a coffee drinker. Caffeine-rich soda, yes, but not coffee.”
“Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”
He disappeared for a few minutes, then reappeared, a little less rigid, holding a cup of my brew by the handle. He hovered around the front desk, sipping. “What does my day look like?” He swatted at Moonflower, who flitted around his head.
“You have an exam at eleven, one at noon, then nothing until three-thirty when you have three back-to-back therapy sessions. And, uh, before I forget...” Ugh. I hated asking about money, but I needed some fast. “I know I just started, and...” Spit it out, I said to myself, just spit it out. “Paycheck. I was wondering when you write paychecks.”
“When do you need one?”
“Friday would be, like, really wonderful.” Ah geez. Nothing better to prove your worth as an employee than to talk like a Valley Girl.
“Sure. No problem. I’ll pay you the end of each week. That’s how I worked it with the others.”
“There’s one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“A, uh, police officer was here this morning when I arrived.” I purposely left out the part about the policeman being the ex-boyfriend I’d mentioned the night before. Way too much information. “He said that the accountant upstairs witnessed someone trying to break into this office early this morning.”
His blue eyes darkened. He’d just been going for a sip from his mug when I laid that whopper on him. “Someone who? Did they trip the alarm?”
“No. Everything is fine. She scared him away. He was a kid—probably nineteen or twenty. Dirty blond hair. Around five foot ten, or five foot eleven.” I watched his face for signs of recognition. “Does any of that sound familiar? Maybe you’ve seen someone like that around here before?”
He shook his head. “No. I’d better call the condo association and make sure they increase security.”
“I don’t want to alarm you, but...”
“Whe
n you start out with the word alarm, it’s very alarming.”
“It may not be anything, but Marmaduke and I saw a kid who looked very much like that last night at the community center. And Marmaduke saw the same guy walking back and forth in front of this office earlier yesterday.”
“That certainly sounds like something to me. I’m definitely calling the condo association now.” He swatted again as Moonflower’s activity grew more and more invasive. Finally, he plunked his cup on the desktop and turned around and looked up at her, his face stern. “Would you please leave me alone! Can’t you see I have work to do?” He shook his fists in the air, as if that would shoo her away. With a distraught look on her filmy face, she went instantly invisible.
“Giving you a little trouble, is she?”
“She’s worse than usual. She kept me awake all night crying and moaning. And she clings to me like saran wrap. Maybe you could have a talk with her?”
I cringed. “Not sure that’s a good idea. I might be the problem.”
“You think so?”
“She seems to have a jealous streak. Or at least she doesn’t like me.”
“Jealous?”
“Some women are like that. You know, jealous of other women in general.”
“Great. Not only do I attract a ghost, but I have to attract a troubled one during one of the worst times of my life.”
“What’s wrong with your life?”
“Never mind. That’s a little overdramatic. You know, opening this new office on my own. And now, someone trying to break in.”
“Well, that’s why I’m here, Dr. Callahan. To make all of that easier for you. I’ll call the condo association for you. Their number is in the rolodex.”
He rolled his eyes. “I hate that.”
“What?”
“Dr. Callahan. You can’t call me Cal?”
“I thought we agreed I should call you Dr. Callahan around the office.”
“In front of patients. Do you see any patients?”
“I thought doctors liked that—to be called Doctor. Isn’t that why you became one?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry, that was just meant to be a joke. It came out wrong.”
“That’s okay. No offense taken.”
“Why did you?”
“What?”
“Become an eye doctor?”
“My sister. Emily.”
“She wanted you to be an eye doctor?”
“Not just any kind of eye doctor—a developmental optometrist. She thought I should do vision therapy.”
“Why?”
“She had a tough time growing up. Learning was always easy for me. Not her. Just the opposite. Reading was a problem. It came slow for her, and then, even when she learned to read, she’d get headaches. She’d throw up. My parents sent her to a bunch of different doctors the school recommended, but nothing worked. They just wanted to label her as a basket case and give her drugs. None of which helped her learn, by the way, and actually made matters worse because of the side effects.” He broke for a sip from his cup. “So finally,” he continued, “our eye doctor at the time sent her to a specialist—a developmental optometrist. She did vision therapy with him, and after a year, was reading without headaches or nausea, and after another year was finally catching up to grade level with her friends. I was in college at the time and trying to decide on a career path to follow and she told me that if I really wanted to make a difference in the world for even one person, I should do vision therapy. I liked that idea.” He sipped from his cup. “And here I am. Many years and many college loans later.”
I leaned back in my chair, very impressed. A lot of people talk about choosing a career that will make a difference, but not everyone does it. “I feel awful that I even tried to make a joke about that. What a great story.” The warmth in his voice when he told the story spoke volumes about his love for his sister, too. I threw him a teasing grin. “Does she like to take credit for the man you’ve become?”
His jaw clenched and from the lag in his response, I knew his answer wouldn’t be equally quippy. “She’s, um...” He cleared his throat. “She’s not with us anymore. She was killed in a car crash seven years ago.”
I lowered my eyes, feeling horrible for my flippancy.
“My many condolences, lad,” said Marmaduke, appearing next to him. “I lost a sister. It’s a terrible, terrible loss to bear.”
I had no words and a sticky, awkward silence hung in the air while I scrambled to say something of substance. Saying ‘I’m sorry,’ to a person who has lost a loved one never felt like enough to me. Yet, it was all I could come up with. “I am really, really so sorry.”
He slapped his hands on the counter and pasted a semi-smile on his face. “Thank you, but I’m the one who should be sorry for putting a downer on the morning. We’ve got work to do, right? Patients to see. Those two patients this morning—do you have their files for me to review before they arrive?”
I nodded and reached for a file to hand him. “One. The other is a new patient.”
“Good. We like new patients, don’t we?” He took the one file, his cup of coffee, and retreated to his exam room.
“He really is a good bloke, that doctor,” said Marmaduke, shaking his head in sympathy.
“I know. And how sad is that about his sister?”
“Sad, as you say. Sad,” agreed Marmi.
Then we sat, not speaking, while I quietly considered Dr. Callahan’s cause. He’d chosen a profession that gave him a purpose. That, I thought, was not only cool, it was smart.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I DID AS I PROMISED AND called the condo association. The manager said she hadn’t had any other reports of a young white male casing the office park, but she would put in a call to the security company and ask them to do extra rounds and be on alert.
Later, after he’d finished up with his second patient of the day, Dr. Callahan took off, car keys in his hands. “I’m heading out to grab my lunch and some light bulbs from the store. Can I get you anything?”
“No thanks, I brought my lunch.”
I pulled my measly little egg salad sandwich out of my purse, filled a coffee cup with water, and sat back down at the computer with a project in mind. Obviously, Dr. Callahan needed more patients, and it seemed, based on what research I’d done on vision therapy and learning problems, that there were a great many patients that needed him. Figuring I could do some good and help secure my new job, I began the work on a plan to bring them together.
Four bites into my sandwich and three minutes of work on my project, the door opened. Looking up from my computer, I was surprised to see Dory Ellison burdened by a cellophane wrapped gift basket so large it overflowed her arms and concealed most of her upper body. In fact, I only knew it was Dory because of the flaming red manicured nails and an oddly meek Ronald Ellison who stood beside her.
“My, my,” said Marmaduke, “what do we have here?”
My thought exactly.
Dory tottered toward me and set the mammoth offering onto the desk. She let out a sigh of relief and peeked around the package. “Hello again! Is Dr. Callahan in?”
“He stepped out.”
“For long?”
“I’m not sure. He said he was getting lunch and light bulbs. Can I help you?”
“I—” she stopped short and corrected herself. “We were just stopping by to say thank you for saving my dear Ronald’s life.”
Dear Ronald bobbed his head a couple of times. “We brought a gift basket.”
“Yes, I see,” I said, standing to push it to the far side of the desk so I could see them better. “It’s . . . big.” I smiled at Mr. Ellison, noticing how healthy he appeared for someone who had just died the day before. Timid, but healthy. He hadn’t seemed nearly as mousy as a ghost. “How are you feeling?” I asked hesitantly, surprised he was up and walking around.
Ronald opened his mouth to speak, but Dory bowled him over with her own response. “No
t a thing wrong with him. Can you believe it? The doctors at the hospital were speechless. Speechless.”
“What happened? I mean, do they know what caused you to...”
“Die?” asked Ronald, completing my thought. He shook his head. “No.”
“They think he had some sort of cardiac episode, but so far he shows no signs of heart distress or blockages.” She patted him on the back like she was patting a dog on the head. “He sees his cardiologist next week and they’ll run some more tests to be sure, but I am just so grateful to Dr. Callahan. If he hadn’t performed that CPR, I don’t think I’d have my Ronny with me today.”
Dory’s Ronny didn’t seem as joyous, but he did offer his own thanks. “Yes. So grateful.”
I was curious if he had any memory of being outside of his body. I just had to inquire. “Do you remember anything about yesterday? You know, a pain, or anything?” I couldn’t exactly ask him directly if he remembered being a ghost for thirty minutes, so I had to take a more circuitous route.
“No pain.” He shook his head. “Don’t even remember going into that room you found me in. The last thing I remember was packing up some paperwork to take with me. I had a house to show.”
“And then... nothing?” I pressed.
I swear I saw Ronald glance in Marmaduke’s direction while he spent a few seconds working up an answer. “Eh. Don’t think so.” He shook his head again. “Nope.”
Dory patted his hand. “We were really hoping to give this to Dr. Callahan with our personal message of gratitude, but at least tell him we stopped by and we’ll come around again.”
“Okay, I will.”
They looked ready to leave when Marmaduke nudged me. Figuratively. “Ask them about the girl.”
For a minute I didn’t understand his meaning.
“The girl who died in this office.”
Right. Moonflower. Possibly. I stopped them before they’d turned their backs to me. “I was wondering if you could tell me a little about the previous owner of this unit?”
Keep Me Ghosted (Sophie Rhodes Romantic Comedy #1) Page 6