Dear Roomie (Rookie Rebels #5) - Kate Meader Page 0,83
believe in ghosts.”
Edie gave him some serious side eye. “That’s a very limited viewpoint.”
“I’m a very limited person.”
For the fifteen minutes prior to bingo, Reid had listened to Edie’s theories on who was stealing her chocolate bars. He wouldn’t put it past the staff to get light-fingered but it seemed more likely to be another resident. Instead Edie was offering the ghost option.
“What would a ghost want with a Milky Way?”
“To be mischievous. That’s what they are, or some of them are. Like leprechauns.”
“You believe in leprechauns as well?”
“Who knows their Abba? It’s dancing queen. Only seventeen!”
“Leprechauns are not mythical creatures,” Edie muttered, her eyes never leaving her card. “They’re documented.”
“But there are none here. Unless it’s a ghost of one.” Ghost leprechaun? Now that gave him chills.
“I know there are spirits. I see them.”
“Who do you see?”
Maybe it was her husband, Kennedy’s grandfather, or perhaps residents of this place long gone. Edie assessed him for worthiness, decided he didn’t pass, and returned to her card.
“Man alive. Number five!”
He marked that one off. “Let’s assume for a moment that the thief is part of this earthly plane and hasn’t yet passed to the other side …”
“That’s why they’re ghosts. Because they’re stuck in the in-between.”
Munching on candy? “Okay. Assume they’re alive and well and capable of enjoying chocolate—” At her raised eyebrow, he added, “as only real, live, flesh-on-their-bones, non-spirits can.” He suspected she was being difficult on purpose but she was old and had a right to be. When he reached that age, he planned to terrorize the staff of whichever home he ended up in.
“All the threes. Thirty-three!”
“So if we make that assumption, then what are we looking at? Who has access to your room? Do you really think the staff would risk their job for a Three Musketeers?”
“That leaves one of this lot.” She gave a shifty glance right, then left. “Kennedy thinks I’m making up crimes so I can strike solving a mystery off my bucket list.”
He had heard all about the famed bucket list. “Whatever works, Miss Marple.”
“You laugh, but I’ll figure it out.”
“Of course you will. What else do you have to do around here?”
She sighed, so resigned. “Passes the time until the end.”
“Good to have a hobby during your final days.”
She burst out laughing. “Why are you such an asshole during those press conferences? That’s not you at all.”
“Knock at the door. Number four!”
He marked that one, giving him three out of five on one row. “That’s exactly me. I’m just unusually polite to you out of respect for your age.”
She snorted. “You’re nothing of the sort. You just put on a front with the press. And other players. And the world.” She patted his hand. “But here with the elderly and with my Kennedy, you can be yourself.”
“Because inside this pro-athlete lives a cranky octogenarian who wishes he could spend his days eating Jell-o, playing bingo, and taking naps. I’ve found my lane.”
“No wonder she likes you.”
He perked up like Bucky when he heard the jangle of the leash. “You think so?”
“You made her day when you turned up here for bingo last week.”
He hadn’t dared hope. “You’d like if she spent more time here, I think. Stuck around for a bit.”
“I don’t want to hold her back but I wouldn’t object to a regular delivery of smoothies. And you two suit each other.”
He would never say he had a type when it came to women. Yet Kennedy defied type. She was so full of life and made him want more than was probably good for him. “Kennedy suits everybody. And she doesn’t want anything more than a fling. She’s made it clear.”
“Kennedy doesn’t know what she wants. She’s been doing the same thing for so long she thinks it’s all there is. Stuck in a rut of traveling, moving, working, every waking moment spent on thinking about others—their errands, their dogs—so she doesn’t think too hard about herself. She’s relaxed around you.”
“Down on your knees. Forty-three!”
That sounded filthy. Someone actually took the trouble to come up with these rhymes.
“I don’t know about that.” He decided to take a leap. “Do you think she might stay in Chicago?”
Edie looked up. “Are you giving her good orgasms?”
That he didn’t redden or freeze up was a testament to the fact he and Edie existed on the same wavelength. “You think that might be the key?”
That made Edie chuckle. “If you’re good enough. I just want her to have something for herself. Some little spark