Marlie's Mystery Man. Doris Rangel
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from the moment she’d picked up his hat.
“You’re…you’re hungry?”
“Haven’t eaten a bite all day. When I tried to order a meal, no one would listen to me.”
“Here, take it,” Marlie said immediately. But with no hand to give it to, she placed the chocolate bar on the far side of the bedside table. It immediately disappeared.
“I also have a couple of packages of crackers, and a granola bar,” she added, placing them, too, on the nightstand.
She heard the rustle of paper wrappings and a crumbly, “Thanks,” as if Caid was talking with his mouth full. In seconds, the crackers and granola bar vanished. Discarded wrappers appeared in the trash basket under the night table.
It was all very disconcerting, but not nearly as disconcerting as seeing the water carafe disappear and water slowly fill one of the glasses left for guests at their bedside. When the carafe reappeared and the glass disappeared, Marlie hurriedly placed two pain relievers within reach. Poof. They, too, were gone.
“Um, Caid,” Marlie said slowly, “I don’t suppose you’d consider haunting another room?”
“Not on your life. I reserved for two nights, I’m staying two nights. It’s thanks to me that you have the room at all.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” Marlie sighed, and switched off the lamp.
“And I’m not dead.”
She let him have the last word, mainly because she was too startled to speak. Just as she plunged the room into darkness, she thought she’d seen the blurry outline of a dark head on the pillow of the other bed.
Turning over, she closed her eyes.
Nah, couldn’t be.
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