“Aye, aye, captain.” With a salute, Annie strode around the car, pausing next to the open door. “But if you think you’re going in alone, start rethinking. It’s time for you to realize you don’t have to wade through this crap alone anymore. See you there.”
Claire watched her drive away, her usual departing squeal exchanged for a more sedate pace. Sighing, she ran one hand through her hair, still surprised when she met the ends just below her shoulders. It was growing, slower than she was used to, and she hadn’t made up her mind about whether or not to let it keep on.
She hadn’t made up her mind about several issues. And she was about to face one of them.
Ducking inside, she traded her cloak for a jacket, grabbed her purse, and locked the back door. If she timed it right, Simon wouldn’t have a chance to ask the question he asked every time he saw her now: who was she? A question she had no idea how to answer.
*
“Simon?” Claire poked her head in the open doorway, let out her breath when she didn’t see him. Relief had her moving quickly; she grabbed the duffle out of the hall closet and headed back to the door.
“Am I missing an adventure?”
The deep voice halted her midstep. Turning, she found Simon Asher standing in the hall, arms crossed, a smile on that sinfully handsome face. “Just another alleged haunting. I wanted to be armed—in case this one played out differently.”
“Did anyone ever tell you lying is not your best talent?”
“Not until now.”
Laughing, he moved to her, looking more like the cop he used to be, with his short, sun-tipped hair, tight black t-shirt and jeans, and less like the priest he was now. “What and where?”
“It’s nothing—”
“Not leaving until you tell me.”
With a sigh she looked up at him. At nearly six foot two, he had a foot on her, and he used it to his advantage—more often than she liked. “A customer thinks her house is haunted. I don’t need your help to check out a house.”
Simon shook his head. “You really are a lousy liar.”
“Damn it—she thinks her daughter is haunted, and I believe her. Satisfied?”
“For now.” Her stomach clenched as she waited for the inevitable question. Instead, he strode across the room and picked up his cell. Relief left her lightheaded. “I know one person who can help, if it’s true.”
“Theresa.” The young woman she had left in Huntsville, grieving for the father she lost to a vengeful ghost. “I don’t want to—”
“She offered her assistance, anytime, when we said goodbye. She feels like she owes you, for what she did.”
Claire rubbed the bridge of her nose. “She owes me nothing. But you can call her. If anyone can peg ghost possession, it would be her.”
She headed for the door—and froze on the threshold when Simon spoke. “Next time, Claire, we talk. No excuses.”
Afraid to look at him, she nodded. And made her escape.
THREE
Annie waited outside the gorgeous, sprawling Victorian, keeping her eye on her passengers in the rearview mirror.
The girl clung to her mother, still crying in that silent, gut-wrenching way. It made Annie want to skewer whatever scared her.
With a sigh, she pulled her cell out of her oversized bag and speed dialed Eric, smiling when he answered. God, she loved his voice—low and quiet, with a hint of sexy as it slid over her name.
“Annie—where are you?”
“Hey, handsome.” She got out of the car and shut the door, leaning so she could still see Regina and her daughter in her peripheral vision. “We have another ghost sighting, so there’s a good chance I’m going to be late for lunch.”
“Need any help?”
Just like that, he accepted without question. Was it any wonder she loved him? “Claire and I have it covered. I’ll call you when we’re done—she closed the store for the day, so a late lunch can stretch into some afternoon nookie.”
His laughter warmed her. “You are always a surprise, blondie, and a delight. Go slay your dragon. I’ll keep the home fires burning.”
“I wouldn’t object to seeing you stretched out naked in front of that fire when I walk in the door.”
He choked. “God help me—get here as fast as you can.”
“Your wish is my—here comes Claire. You can finish that sentence when I get home. Think of a few creative endings. Love you.”
“Love you back.”
She ended the call, smiling at the edge in his voice. She’d smooth it out when she saw him again. And happily take the rest of the day to do it.
Claire’s sporty little two-door eased to a stop behind her car, made it look stodgy in comparison. She replaced the hatchback that her cousin Natasha sent into the San Francisco Bay with a car that couldn’t have been more opposite from that sensible four door. Annie figured it helped her forget the horror, and the woman who died there, just a little.