"Casey Daniels - Pepper Martin 01 - Don of the Dead" - читать интересную книгу автора (Daniels Casey)

Garden View polo shirt.

Gus grinned.

"There. See." I pointed an accusing finger at him. "That proves it. No way you're a ghost. Ghosts don't
look at women's boobs."

"Who says? I may be dead but that doesn't mean I've lost my appreciation for the finer things in life. And
your things, honeyтАж " He gave a long, low whistle. "Those are really fine!"

I scraped my hands through my hair. "No way am I sitting here talking to a ghost."
"You'd rather think you're crazy?"

"I'd rather thinkтАФ"

I never had a chance to finish the sentence. Which was probably just as well because at that point, I
didn't knowwhat I was thinking.

The door popped open and Ella Silverman, the cemetery's community-relations manager and my boss,
poked her head into the room. Ella was round and middle-aged. She must have had a hippie moment
somewhere in her past because she always wore dresses that were loose and flowing and hung down
around her ankles. Her hair was cut short and spiked at the top and she liked jewelry. As usual, she was
decked out in lots of beads and plenty of chunky bracelets.

"Sorry!" she whispered. "I just have to tell you thatтАФ" She looked around my office and her apologetic
smile wilted. She knew she didn't have to whisper anymore. "I just wanted to tell you that we've got a
staff meeting in a half hour. Jim's orders. I thought you were in here with someone. I could have sworn I
heard you talking."

"Phone." I pointed.

Ellasquinched up her nose. "Except that you're not on the phone."

"Speaker phone."

"We don't have speaker phones."

"Just thinking out loud."

"Uh huh." She came into my office and closed the door behind her. That day's choice offlowy dress was
a little teal number with a matching jacket. Like she always did when she was slipping out of
Ella-everybody's-friend mode into Ella-the-boss mode, she tugged on her right earlobe. Her turquoise
and silver earring swayed. "Do we need to talk?" she asked.

"Talk? No." I slid the magazines on the desk together and tapped them into a neat pile. "I was just
pulling your leg. What you heard was me practicing. For that talk I'm scheduled to give to the Junior
League ladies next week. You know, the one at the chapel." For once my less-than-stellar filing system
came in handy. The tour script I had been given two weeks before and hadn't even read yet was lying on
the desk, and just to prove my point, I picked it up and waved it at Ella.