Gypsy Magic - J.R. Rain Page 0,66
along.”
“I’m fine,” I said and waved away his concern. “And I’m sure you guys haven’t given up on cleansing the Clemmons House yet?”
He shook his head. “Bailey wants to try to channel Danny again tonight. But, you need to stay away. We can handle it.”
“No.” I surprised even myself with the firm conviction in my voice. “I’m not sitting this one out. You need me.”
“Poppy, do I need to remind you that you’re sitting in a hospital bed?”
“I’m fine. At least, that’s what the doctors said.”
“Yeah, fine to get released to go home and go to bed!” he responded. “I’m sure they’d crap a brick if they knew you were planning on going back to the haunted house where this happened in the first place!”
I frowned. “Well, then you’d better not tell them.”
It was his turn to frown. “Poppy, I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” I inhaled deeply. “I’m not done with this case, yet. I want to find a way to banish that poltergeist. Now it’s personal.”
Marty shook his head. “Poppy…”
“The lives of two little girls could be in jeopardy, not to mention… your life. And Bailey’s.”
“Poppy, I promised Finn you wouldn’t come back with us.”
That gave me cause for pause. I hated breaking promises to my son, and I wouldn’t live this one down for a long time. “I need to talk to Finn, to explain you need me.”
“Poppy…”
“It’s too dangerous for you and Bailey to take on by yourselves. You must see that, Marty?”
“McFly.”
“McFly.”
He shook his head, ever the stubborn ass. “We have RJ and Henner.”
I shook my head. “It’s still not enough. You know that as well as I do.”
He grew quiet because he couldn’t argue. He knew he needed me as much as I knew he needed me. “What about Finn? He’ll hate me if I put you in danger again.”
“He won’t hate you. Finn doesn’t hate anyone. I just need to explain to him that many people could get hurt unless I help. He’ll understand.”
He had to understand… hopefully.
Marty’s scowl was deep. “I’m not talking you out of it, am I?”
“No.”
Then he sighed. “Fine, but rest first and if the doctor decides to keep you in the hospital, we’re proceeding without you.”
“Deal.”
He still didn’t look happy about it, but I trusted him to keep his word.
Chapter Nineteen
“Why is there a casket in the back of your hearse?” I asked Marty as we pulled into town.
“Oh, it’s courtesy of Lorcan and his strange sense of humor. He said I could have the hearse as long as I didn’t remove the coffin.”
Finn was home with a somber RJ standing vigil. After a very lengthy conversation with my son, in which I spelled out how important it was for me to help Marty, Henner and Bailey, he finally agreed to let me go, though he wasn’t happy about it.
RJ seemed fine with the idea of babysitting (aka watching WWE) on my sofa. Little did he know that Darla was delighted, owing to the fact that she could continue to rub all over him like a cat in heat.
As to the inside of Marty’s hearse, I hadn’t been expecting an actual casket! I looked back at the thing in question. “Lorcan’s weird sense of humor or not, that thing is expensive!”
“It is?” Marty asked with a shrug.
“Yeah, it’s a ‘Regent’ copper casket. One of my loaded uncles was buried in one. Adjusted for inflation, that thing is probably worth upwards of four thousand dollars! And it’s just sitting in the back of your hearse…”
Marty blinked, nonplussed, and almost missed his turnoff. He hastily flicked his signal on, even though there was no one in the vicinity. After the sun set, Haven Hollow was in a sleepy, near silent state.
“Four thousand?” he repeated.
“Or thereabouts. Point is, it’s an obscene amount of money to leave laying around in the back of a hearse… as a joke.”
“Yeah, it is. I’ll ask him about it next time I see him, not that Lorcan’s hurting for money. He’s probably the wealthiest person in Haven Hollow.”
Marty turned onto the Clemmons’ street, a blinking street lamp strobing over the nearby houses in an almost eerie fashion. I swore I saw something large and horned moving in the shadows parallel to us, but when I craned my neck to check, all I received was a burst of potent nausea and the vague impression of a mastiff disappearing around a corner.
“Maybe I really am going crazy,” I muttered, clutching my stomach tight.
“Crazy?” Marty asked, looking over at me.
I’d