Ghost Aria Read Online Free PDF Page A

finally dropped her off at her hotel at 2 a.m. She’d invited him in, but he’d settled for a very long kiss at the door, leaving her full of dreamy heat and a promise to call her soon.
    Thus she woke up later than she’d planned for her apartment-hunting expedition, barely making it to her first appointment. By the end of the day, she had several choices to run past Hally, who’d promised to give her a final vetting.
    They spent Sunday revisiting them and hitting the shops Hally pronounced the very best for deals. Sure enough, Christy returned to her hotel room Sunday evening with several new outfits she thought Roman would like. She also had a signed rental agreement for an apartment she could move into the following weekend, once the landlord cleaned the kiva fireplace and de-moused the place—both on Hally’s advice.
    She talked to her mom. No surprise there, but she wasn’t nearly as concerned about the murder as Christy’s dad had implied. Once she’d established her daughter was fine and in no danger—Christy might have stretched that part a bit—Laura Moon let the topic go and instead asked how Christy liked the new job.
    â€œI like it.” Christy paced the length of her little hotel room. “This one woman seems to have it in for me.”
    Her mom laughed, her generous, amused-by-life laugh. “There’s always gotta be at least one.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œReally. Fact of life, It’s not whether someone will give you shit at a new job—it’s which person will it be.”
    â€œSo what do I do?”
    â€œHeh.” Her mom shrugged verbally. “You do the job to the best of your ability. That’s what you’re there for. Is she someone you answer to?”
    â€œSometimes.”
    â€œThen make her look good. She’s only a real problem for you if she gets in the way of you doing a good job. Make sense?”
    â€œSort of.”
    â€œTry it out for a few days and call me. Some people are all about the battle. If you don’t fight back, they lose interest.”
    â€œOkay. I will.” She heard a shout in the background, and her mom yelled something back in another language. “Do you have to go?”
    â€œI have a couple more minutes to dispense motherly advice.” Her mom’s smile came through the phone clearly. “What else? Men? Clothes? Picking out a couch for the new apartment? Ask me anything.”
    â€œAre you—when you go to dangerous places for your stories, are you ever scared?”
    â€œOften,” her mom replied promptly. “Sometimes more than others. But fear is a tool. Our early warning system—only a fool doesn’t listen to that.”
    â€œBut you go anyway.”
    â€œNot always. Not if the alarm bells are really going off. But yeah—going anyway is part of my job. Getting the story so terrible events will be revealed. That’s important to me.”
    â€œSo how do you know? When it’s big alarm bells or just . . . being paranoid.”
    Her mom sighed. “This is where being a mother is the hardest. I’m guessing you’re asking because of the murder, and you want to know how much is being hyped up by all the gossip and what is legitimate concern for your safety.”
    â€œPretty much.” Oh, and a ghost that’s taking a strange and possibly obsessive interest in me. Never mind that part.
    â€œThe mother in me wants to tell you to stay home safe, but I lived that life and it nearly killed me.” Her mother’s voice reflected the exhaustion and depression of her married years. Unlike her ex-husband, she was careful never to criticize Christy’s father, except in oblique references. “So my best advice is this: Listen to your instincts. Trust your gut. Trust yourself.”
    â€œOkay.” She paused, feeling like she should be honest. “I ran into Roman Sanclaro.”
    Her mother’s end