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“Fine, if anything does happen and a ghost comes to axe us to death, I will gladly sacrifice myself so you have enough time to get away. An axe to the skull sounds better at this point than leftover mac and cheese and a lumpy couch. Please trust me.”
“It’s probably fine,” Ronnie said, trying to look supportive. “It’s not like she’s ever hurt anyone else. It’s more like she just tries to get them to leave.”
“Very helpful,” Nick groaned. “Let’s make a deal: if the ghost of Clementine Sullivan wants us to leave, we will. But until then, can we please enjoy some steaks and a decent place to sleep? A real fridge. Cable. They have cable. I checked. More than the seven channels at the hotel. I’d really like to catch the ball game on TV tonight after I grill. Plus we don’t know when the social worker will be here and if we are crashed in the living room, it won’t look great.”
“Well, there is one bright side,” Cleo said, her face still layered with worry. “Tomorrow, when we get in the car to go on the little adventure you’ve very poorly planned, I’ll be glad to leave the ghost murder cabin.”
“You’re going on an adventure?” Ronnie asked, looking hopeful for some good news.
“If we survive the night,” Cleo corrected. “Nick wants to take a couple days while we wait for your results to go on some sojourn. Wherever the wind takes us or something horrible like that.”
Carter smiled. “You two deserve the break. We can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us. It’s been life-changing. You’ve literally saved our lives. Take a couple of days to recharge. We can point you in the right direction to some really beautiful spots. What exactly are you looking for?”
“No direction pointing,” Nick said, waving the idea off. “We’re winging it.”
“Oh,” Ronnie said, shooting Cleo a look. “So it’s been a month of incredibly complex legal work. Followed by an almost flight out of here. Now an extended stay in a haunted cottage and an ill-fated road trip. Fun.”
“Why are we throwing around terms like ill-fated?” Nick asked, making sure they could tell how insulted he was.
“I guess we could go with doomed or hapless,” Ronnie said. “And don’t forget how many languages I speak. I’m happy to translate it too. Maybe in French, it would sound better.”
“Steaks,” Nick said to himself, drawing in a deep breath. “A baseball game. A good night's sleep. Eye on the prize.”
“Please know that if a ghost sucks my soul from my body and I am forced to wander the woods around the Clementine Cottage for all eternity, it was his fault.”
“Got it.” Ronnie laughed as she walked them back to the door. “Good luck. I’ll get this off to the lab first thing in the morning.”
“Use a good picture of me for the newspaper,” Cleo joked as Nick practically dragged her to the car, holding her hand playfully. “Tell them I lit up every room I walked into and people loved me. Feel free to use the word magnetic. And my promising legal career. Mention that too. Hopefully, Clementine makes it quick and painless.”
“I’m not going to make it quick and painless for any of you guys if you keep this up,” Nick said as he sank into the driver's seat.
Cleo was smiling widely as she fell in next to him. “You look like your blood pressure is through the roof.”
“You are definitely not good for my health.”
“Just don’t forget our deal.” She patted his leg, and he felt his body jump with the tingles of pleasure. They’d been together, working hard, for a long time, but were they touching each other more? Was she reaching for him more frequently? Was he reaching for her? It certainly seemed so. However, every time he’d considered what he might do to her if he had the chance, one of two things would happen. Someone would interrupt with a work-related issue, or he and Cleo would start arguing. Now, as they were finally clocking out for a couple days into a holding pattern, he fantasized about what might happen when nothing came up to stop them.
“What deal?” he asked, covering her hand with his until she moved it back to her own lap, her cheeks flushing pink.
“You’re getting your soul sucked out so I can get away.” She made sure to keep her face serious until he opened his mouth to answer and she shot a scolding finger up at him. “Don’t you dare make whatever dirty joke you were about to because I said the word sucked. You know what I meant.”
“We finally won’t have Sammy around listening in on everything we say. I can’t be responsible for what comes out of my mouth”—he shrugged and gave her a mischievous smile—“or what goes in whose mouth.”
Cleo blushed again, but the corners of her mouth rose. “You’re trouble.”
“And you’re along for the ride. Buckle up.”
CHAPTERFOUR
Cleo
It was quaint. Recently remodeled. All the needed amenities. She had to admit if it wasn’t the site of a gruesome family murder, she would find the cottage quite charming.
“I told you it’s all been upgraded,” Nick said, running his hand over the silver-gray granite countertops.
“I’m sure that’s put plenty of bad juju in here for Clementine. She probably likes things the way they used to be.”
“Don’t start with that,” he sighed. “There are no such things as ghosts. And if there were, they’d probably be out doing better things than trying to scare rental visitors.”
