Mistletoe and Spirits (Southern Ghost Wranglers #5) - Amy Boyles
Chapter 1
“Should the little ghosts be hung on the top or the bottom?”
They were probably the stupidest words ever to have come out of my mouth, and I regretted saying them as soon as they slipped off my tongue.
Roan smirked. “Is that a real question, Blissful?”
I lifted the strand of lightbulbs shaped like ghosts and pointed to the live Douglas fir that Roan Storm, my fiancé, had just stood up in one corner of the inn that he owned and operated.
“You’re the one with the Christmas lights shaped like Casper,” I told him. “They’re your decorations. I’m just putting them on the tree.”
“That sounds an awful lot like you’re saying I’m not the person in charge.” He took the strand from my hand. His fingers slid over my flesh, making my skin pop and sizzle. “I thought this was a group effort.”
I stared at him blankly. “It’s just a Christmas tree. I’m pretty sure no one is in charge.”
Alice Cassidy, a short, squat woman who wore glasses and liked to bake, entered the room with a string of white lights wrapped around her chest. “Help! Somebody help!”
Ruth Biggs, my tall geriatric friend with a bun on top of her head, sailed in behind Alice. “What in the world happened to you?”
“I found a box of lights. They were right where Roan said they would be, in the hall closet. I went to get them out and fell in.” Alice glanced at us sheepishly. “I don’t know how it happened. I just lost my balance.”
Ruth shook her head. “It’s that blood pressure medicine you’re taking. I told you that you need to talk to the doctor about it.”
Alice wiggled her shoulders, but she was stuck fast. “Help! I fell in a box of lights and can’t get them off.”
“Calm down,” Ruth said. “This isn’t a commercial for an emergency alert bracelet.”
Alice’s face brightened. “Should we call the system? I have my alert necklace on.”
Ruth reached out and tugged on a cord that was indeed wrapped around Alice’s neck. “Alice Cassidy, when did you go and buy such a contraption?”
Ruth said it in such a way that Alice’s bright expression dimmed. “Why, the salesman came around last week, and that’s when I signed up.”
“You’ve never fallen a day in your life,” Ruth said. “Except for now, that is, and that’s only because you’re on too high a dose of medicine.”
“You’re not a doctor,” Alice shot out.
“I’m close enough,” Ruth snapped.
Alice had no argument for that except to return to her original conversation about falling. “But what if I do topple over and break my hip? What do I do then?”
“Then you’ll call me, and I’ll come over with a shovel and scrape you off the floor.”
Alice did not look convinced. “You aren’t strong enough. Besides, what if I can’t reach my phone? How will I contact you?”
“Need I remind you that we work together? If you don’t show up or call, I’ll know something’s wrong immediately.”
Alice considered this but opened her mouth to argue. “What if it happens on a weekend? We don’t work Saturday and Sunday.”
Ruth pointed a thin finger at her. “I see you every Saturday. That’s when we play Bingo at the Elk’s, and every Sunday we go to First Baptist together. I see you every day, Alice. If something happened to you, I would know. You don’t need some GPS tracker around your neck. That’s what the government wants, to keep tabs on us day and night.”
I rolled my eyes as Roan handed me another strand of ghost lights.
He leaned over and whispered, “May I remind you that this was your idea, to invite Ruth and Alice?”
“At the time I thought it was a good one.”
Mischief sparkled in his eyes. “Do you know what was a good idea?”
I couldn’t help but grin at the dopey expression on his face. “What’s that?”
He lifted my hand so that the diamond engagement ring on my finger sparkled. “Getting engaged. That was a good idea.”
I scoffed. “Sir, it wasn’t a good idea.”
His face darkened with worry. “It wasn’t?”
“No. It wasn’t a good idea at all. It was a great idea.”
Roan’s lips curled into a grin. “You almost had me, killer.”
I clicked my tongue. “Gotcha.”
As Ruth started unwinding Alice, Roan helped me put the ghost lights up on the tree. “Any leads to investigate?” he asked. “Or do you think this will be a quiet Christmas?”
I laughed. “At Christmas, a lot of ghosts like to gear up. Activity levels increase. You know, because spirits