snorted and then said in unison, “The ghost.”
“For real,” Ingrid said. “That dove is way beyond feeling me up like your creepy uncle. And way beyond the stuff dickhead used to pull.” Neither of them had any additional experience with ghosts beyond those two ghosts. Dickhead was Emily’s ex who had haunted the bookstore and been gotten rid of by a teenager with a spell-book. And, Emily’s uncle who had haunted the car Em had inherited. He’d felt up Ingrid one too many times and been driven off the edge of a cliff on Sage Island. Which was, apparently, bad for the environment as well as irresponsible.
Ingrid had not once rolled her eyes at Gabe when he’d lectured her.
Well…she had. But they hadn’t been back together when he’d been lecturing her. He could have been telling her about a great new restaurant, and she’d have rolled her eyes at him. That had been when he’d been looking into her husband’s death and assuming that just because she’d blown up a body, buried it, and then pretended she hadn’t that she had somehow been the murderer.
The thought brought a twinkle to her eye, and she sent another text to Gabe:
PICK ONE: GHOST, WIFE, VAMPIRE. ALSO, REMEMBER WHEN I BURIED THAT BODY? GOOD TIMES…
He replied in moments again.
THOSE ARE YOUR SUSPECTS?!?! I MISS YOU—BUT I’M GLAD I’M NOT INVESTIGATING THAT CRIME. STATISTICALLY THE WIFE. BUT…WHEN YOU ADD VAMPIRE AND GHOST? WHO KNOWS?
“O.M.Gah,” Emily said as she read over Ingrid’s shoulder. “Your cuteness is making me want to jab out my eyes with a fork.”
“I’d say text Dean and tell him to get the Presidium doves to let us go. But that evil man-dove took some secret assignment.”
“Shut up,” Emily said and crossed over to Cathy and Carol and said baldly, “Why didn’t you drink the coffee?”
Cathy tilted her head and asked, “Does it matter?”
“We put truth serum in it to find the killer, so we can go have snacks and wine,” Ingrid said, sitting down next to Cathy.
“Truth serum?” Carol asked.
“Everyone here is some type of magic user except you,” Emily said. “How did you find this tour?”
“Um, magic user?” Cathy asked. She glanced over at Carol and then back at the two friends. Her look seemed to say, can you even believe this? But then another expression came over her face. The realization that they’d seen that ghost.
Her sister seemed to be reading her mind as she said, “There was the ghost.”
“Yes.”
The two of them stared at each other in the same sort of silent conversation that Emily and Ingrid had experienced many times.
“We don’t drink coffee,” Cathy told the friends. “If you’d like to give us the truth serum directly, we’ll answer your questions. But will you answer mine?”
“Yes,” Ingrid said. She just liked Cathy. She was the type of woman that was so motherly. She was the type of woman that Ingrid wished her own mother was. Ingrid suspected that Cathy would have been the type of woman who would have accepted Harrison as a son-in-law. And Cathy would not have been a little bit happy when her daughter was widowed. Ingrid suspected that someone like Cathy wouldn’t mind Gabe at all—magic user or not. Gods, Ingrid realized. I have so much baggage and a need to confront my mother.
Maybe, she thought, maybe I shouldn’t have run when I realized Mom was coming.
Maybe, Ingrid then thought, maybe these crazy ideas I am having are spawning from being in love with a man like Gabe. Because he was a man. The type of man who wouldn’t run from her mom’s bullcrap even if Ingrid did. The type of man who owned his life.
Goodness you weak dove, she thought, you need to grow up.
“What kind of magic user,” Cathy asked. Her eyes said she was willing to, at least, humor them.
“Technically we’re witches,” Emily said.
“Technically?” Carol stood and stretched, she was examining people in the room with a new light. Rather like everyone else who
“For real,” Ingrid said. “That dove is way beyond feeling me up like your creepy uncle. And way beyond the stuff dickhead used to pull.” Neither of them had any additional experience with ghosts beyond those two ghosts. Dickhead was Emily’s ex who had haunted the bookstore and been gotten rid of by a teenager with a spell-book. And, Emily’s uncle who had haunted the car Em had inherited. He’d felt up Ingrid one too many times and been driven off the edge of a cliff on Sage Island. Which was, apparently, bad for the environment as well as irresponsible.
Ingrid had not once rolled her eyes at Gabe when he’d lectured her.
Well…she had. But they hadn’t been back together when he’d been lecturing her. He could have been telling her about a great new restaurant, and she’d have rolled her eyes at him. That had been when he’d been looking into her husband’s death and assuming that just because she’d blown up a body, buried it, and then pretended she hadn’t that she had somehow been the murderer.
The thought brought a twinkle to her eye, and she sent another text to Gabe:
PICK ONE: GHOST, WIFE, VAMPIRE. ALSO, REMEMBER WHEN I BURIED THAT BODY? GOOD TIMES…
He replied in moments again.
THOSE ARE YOUR SUSPECTS?!?! I MISS YOU—BUT I’M GLAD I’M NOT INVESTIGATING THAT CRIME. STATISTICALLY THE WIFE. BUT…WHEN YOU ADD VAMPIRE AND GHOST? WHO KNOWS?
“O.M.Gah,” Emily said as she read over Ingrid’s shoulder. “Your cuteness is making me want to jab out my eyes with a fork.”
“I’d say text Dean and tell him to get the Presidium doves to let us go. But that evil man-dove took some secret assignment.”
“Shut up,” Emily said and crossed over to Cathy and Carol and said baldly, “Why didn’t you drink the coffee?”
Cathy tilted her head and asked, “Does it matter?”
“We put truth serum in it to find the killer, so we can go have snacks and wine,” Ingrid said, sitting down next to Cathy.
“Truth serum?” Carol asked.
“Everyone here is some type of magic user except you,” Emily said. “How did you find this tour?”
“Um, magic user?” Cathy asked. She glanced over at Carol and then back at the two friends. Her look seemed to say, can you even believe this? But then another expression came over her face. The realization that they’d seen that ghost.
Her sister seemed to be reading her mind as she said, “There was the ghost.”
“Yes.”
The two of them stared at each other in the same sort of silent conversation that Emily and Ingrid had experienced many times.
“We don’t drink coffee,” Cathy told the friends. “If you’d like to give us the truth serum directly, we’ll answer your questions. But will you answer mine?”
“Yes,” Ingrid said. She just liked Cathy. She was the type of woman that was so motherly. She was the type of woman that Ingrid wished her own mother was. Ingrid suspected that Cathy would have been the type of woman who would have accepted Harrison as a son-in-law. And Cathy would not have been a little bit happy when her daughter was widowed. Ingrid suspected that someone like Cathy wouldn’t mind Gabe at all—magic user or not. Gods, Ingrid realized. I have so much baggage and a need to confront my mother.
Maybe, she thought, maybe I shouldn’t have run when I realized Mom was coming.
Maybe, Ingrid then thought, maybe these crazy ideas I am having are spawning from being in love with a man like Gabe. Because he was a man. The type of man who wouldn’t run from her mom’s bullcrap even if Ingrid did. The type of man who owned his life.
Goodness you weak dove, she thought, you need to grow up.
“What kind of magic user,” Cathy asked. Her eyes said she was willing to, at least, humor them.
“Technically we’re witches,” Emily said.
“Technically?” Carol stood and stretched, she was examining people in the room with a new light. Rather like everyone else who
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