Ghost Wanted Read Online Free PDF Page A

death.
    â€œShe was always kind and good.” His deep voice was soft. “She wanted love to flower whenever it could. But during the last few days, peculiar things have happened at the library, and some people—the credulous ones—are saying it must be a ghost, that the Rose Lady has turned mean. I know those with intelligence would not seriously cast blame for odd incidents on a ghost.” From his tone, you would have thought such creatures nonexistent. “But there are those who believe the moon landing was a hoax and unicorns inhabit forests. I didn’t want dark deeds associated with Lorraine. I wanted to restore her good name.” A weary sigh. “But the department has to focus on truly evil acts. That was my mistake.”
    â€œWiggins”—I picked my words carefully—“Heaven teaches us to listen to our hearts. What does your heart tell you?”
    â€œMy heart?”
    I could scarcely hear the words.
    â€œMy heart?” The tone was louder, stronger. “My heart tells me she deserves to be protected. She is the kindest, most beautiful, gentlest creature I’ve ever known. Lorraine was never selfish or cold or heartless. Yet that is how she will now be remembered by some because of those stories in the student newspaper. I hope she will come home to Heaven, but her spirit will be forever forlorn if she is blamed—”
    Running steps sounded in the hallway.
    The whistle of the Rescue Express rose in a mournful wail.
    â€œLet me stay, Wiggins. I will prove Lorraine is innocent.” Brave words, since I had no clue what dastardly deeds were being attributed to her, but I was intent upon avoiding a swift return on the Express.
    â€œCan you? Will you?” His voice was fading.
    The scent of coal smoke lessened, disappeared. The distant clack of wheels indicated I had managed a reprieve.
    A covey of security officers burst into the file room.
    The rumble of the Rescue Express was scarcely audible, and then the sound was gone. I was still here. Saving a ghost’s good name would be a first for me. It seemed odd that Lorraine fled from me. Perhaps I could gain her confidence when she realized I was her champion. Now I must find out what kind of troubles were being blamed on her.
    The security officers had left the lights on in the HR office. As they thudded up and down among rows of filing cabinets in the adjoining room, I flipped through a campus directory, found the location of the student newspaper office, blew the officers an unseen kiss, and departed.

    The Communications Department was housed in an old frame building atop the highest hill on campus. I landed in the newsroom and smiled, remembering the building’s history. Built in the early 1900s, the shabby edifice called Old Ethel had originally been a boarding house, though it was well known that boarders simply came for the night and the owner was a madam named Ethel. After a raid, Ethel left town and the building was unused for years. The college purchased the boarding house and land in the 1930s. The rambling building served as a residence hall until the 1960s, when the Journalism Department took it over. The lower floor housed the
Bugle
. Efforts to change the building’s name met stiff resistance from journalism students who delighted in the ramshackle house’s bawdy history. The newsroom featured a mural of a buxom woman in a low-cut cardinal red gown. Reporters called her Ethel and included her in ribald exchanges.
    Computer monitors glowed eerily in the darkened newsroom. I supposed the terminals required passwords. If need be I could return tomorrow, hover over a reporter’s shoulder, and discover a password, but I wanted information now. I also hoped to learn about Joe Cooper, the
Bugle
editor whose actions disappointed the night watchman. I wandered to the end of the newsroom. Enough light slanted through a nearby window to illuminate worn letters on the door to a