Read An Uninvited Ghost for Free Online Page B

it’s easy to beat me,” I answered.
    They laughed, and Jim said, “I think I’ll beat Warren, and then just beat him again.”
    “Your choice,” I reminded him. Good to see the guys were enjoying themselves.
    I’d barely made it out of the game room when I found myself face-to-neck with Dolores Santiago, the last-minute addition. Dolores, who appeared to be in her sixties, had inch-thick glasses and wore her long gray hair tied in a mammoth ponytail in the back. She stood about six feet tall and had not once so much as cracked a smile in my presence, but she had been very, very interested in everything ghost-related that went on in the house. Dolores was definite in wanting to observe what she called an “ongoing paranormal incident” going on in my guesthouse. She’d signed on to the tour only two days before the group arrived, and her payment had been directly deposited into my business account only the day before.
    “Mrs. Kerby,” she said, although I have never used Mrs. in my name and Kerby is the name I was born with, “I’m wondering if you might direct me toward the paranormal presences in your home. I would like the opportunity to commune with them outside of the group. Other people only complicate my impressions.”
    I had thought of getting a Dolores-to-English dictionary, since she seemed to talk like this all the time, but instead, knowing how hard it was to convince Maxie to do even the few appearances she made during each day, I told Dolores once again about the séance planned for the following night, during which she’d be free to ask the two “paranormal presences” anything she’d like.
    “It’s not verbal communication I’m discussing,” she said. “I have a few devices in my room that can measure the vibratory presences in your home, and their efficiency is hindered by other living beings.”
    Devices that could measure vibratory presences, hmm? I bet. But best not to comment on that, especially since Paul chose that moment to materialize right behind Dolores. Even though Dolores was quite tall, I was baffled by how short Paul appeared until I realized that he was about calf-deep in floor, and therefore a bit less imposing than normal.
    “What is she talking about?” he asked, but I ignored the question. If Dolores saw me talking to him now, Paul—or more significantly, I—would get not a moment of peace until Dolores was safely on the way back to wherever it was she had come from.
    “I don’t really have that much control over the ghosts,” I told her instead. “They come and go as they please. Feel free to talk to them if you believe you feel a presence nearby, however.”
    “There’s nothing you can arrange?” she said. Uh-oh. The customer is always right, Alison.
    “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see what I can do,” I told her.
    Dolores actually curled her lips in a somewhat upward direction. It wasn’t exactly a smile, but it turned her perpetual frown into something resembling a straight horizontal line. “Thank you,” she said. “I will look forward to it.” I considered asking what it was exactly she was looking forward to, but decided not to press my luck. I walked down the hallway, saw Dolores head into the game room of all places, and maneuvered into a corner where I could quietly talk to Paul.
    “It’s a lot harder to talk now that we have guests,” I more or less hissed at him. “You can’t just pop up and expect to have a conversation.”
    “I don’t see why not, since the fact that Maxie and I are here is the reason you’ve been able to rent the rooms out.” So he wanted to play hardball, eh?
    “If you’re trying to persuade me of something, your salesmanship skills are coming up way short,” I told Paul.
    Paul retreated. “You’re right; that was a cheap shot.” He really is a softie behind all the transparent muscles and the private-detective attitude. Canadians don’t like it when it’s implied they’re being rude.