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bedrooms upstairs. I couldn’t imagine who or what it could be since I knew no one could have come in the house without my seeing them.”
    “Are you sure about that?”
    “I’m not blind.”
    “A back door perhaps?”
    “Are you doubting me?”
    “Lady, it’s my job. I have to ask.”
    How had I gone from being addressed as Miss Sugarbaker to Lady? I let it pass… this time.
    “Well, anyway, I ran upstairs and looked all around, but, of course, no one was there. Then, just as I started down the steps, I felt…”
    “Yes,” his deep voice said. “You felt what?”
    “I felt someone—” I uttered a tiny nervous giggle. “Touch me.”
    “Touch you? You mean an icy feeling on the arm or was it more like a tug on the back of your clothing?”
    “No, it wasn’t like that at all.” Several seconds passed as he waited for me to elaborate. I didn’t oblige.
    “Well, what was it like?” He moved to the edge of the couch cushion, his gaze intent on mine. “I’m a professional, Miss Sugarbaker. I assure you, what you share with me is strictly confidential.”
    “I’m sorry, Mister Valentine,” I said between clenched teeth. “It’s very difficult to talk about.”
    His mood changed when he noticed my distress. “I’m the one who is sorry. I know that this can’t be an easy thing to talk about, particularly with someone you barely know.”
    I blushed as a brief image of waking up in his bed flashed across my mind.
    Still poised on the edge of the cushion, he patted the back of my hand. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. My only defense is that’s it’s been a long day and I’m anxious to do the preliminary walk through so I can get a feel for what we are dealing with. Please, let’s just start over, shall we?”
    He seemed to be a big fan of starting again. This was the second time since he’d arrived that he asked for a do-over. If I had my choice of do-over, I would have begun by not sleeping with him the night before. I gave him a glance. Okay, maybe my do-over would have actually been to have drunk less so I could have remembered sleeping with him. He was pretty hot.
    Nonetheless, I nodded in agreement. Then continuing, I took a deep breath as he sat back against the cushions. “It was similar to…” My voice dropped down to a whisper. “To someone touching me inappropriately on the subway.”
    His voice hushed, matching mine. “How inappropriate?”
    My gaze fell to my left breast and then to my right breast before lifting to meet his. “Extremely inappropriate.”
    “Ah, I see.” His face blazed bright red. I had to believe he did indeed see.

Seven

    Twenty minutes later Sam Valentine slid the case folder with my name on it back into his briefcase, closing the brown leather valise with a snap.
    “So, you’ll be getting rid of my problem tonight?”
    “Your problem?”
    “The ghost.”
    “Ah, the ghost. I must tell you, Miss Sugarbaker, not everyone sees a ghost as a problem. You do realize ghosts aren’t like cockroaches. We don’t come in your house, spray some chemical along the baseboards and voila —like magic all of your paranormal activity is gone. It just doesn’t work like that.”
    Drat. Not being the most patient person, quick and easy was just what I’d been hoping for. I should have known better.
    I pushed my bottom lip out in what I hoped was a sexy pout. “Why not? As far as I’m concerned, my ghost is a pest so wouldn’t that fall under the category of pest control? Can’t you spray a little holy water in the cracks and crevices and bam—no more ghost?” I curved my lips into a hopeful smile, stopping just short of batting my eyelashes.
    “Not quite. First we need to determine what type of paranormal entity we are dealing with and then—”
    I cut him off mid-sentence. “Have you been listening to a single word I’ve been saying? I already know what kind of paranormal thingy it is that I’ve got. I told you, he’s a ghost. You know, Casper with