Spooky Business (The Spectral Files #3) - S.E. Harmon Page 0,23

the faint clicking of the mouse as she probably navigated her computer screen. “He was twenty-eight when he was killed.”

Carr. That was one hell of a coincidence. “I don’t suppose his mother’s name was Valerie,” I said slowly.

“Let me check.” After a moment, she made a satisfied sound. “Yes, it is. How did you know?”

“Just a hunch,” I murmured. “Was there any mention of an Alex in Joseph’s history?”

“Alexander Gilroy was Joseph’s ex-boyfriend and the main suspect in his death. Gilroy was cleared when his alibi checked out. Hold on, I’ll just send you the entire case file.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“Hon, you owe me a million by now.”

No point in denying the obvious. I hung up and checked the text she’d sent me with directions to the Zappa Fair. I pulled up Google maps, entered the address, and got a thirty-minute estimate.

“Who was that?” Danny asked from somewhere behind me.

“Chevy,” I said, pocketing my phone as I turned. “She sent me an address of a place I saw in a dream.”

I thought about cleaning that up and making it less weird, but I suppressed the urge. If Danny wasn’t used to my weirdness by now, he never would be.

His expression darkened. “The same dream that had you talking to yourself like a crazy person in the middle of a storm?”

“That would be the one.” I pointed at the trash bag and grabber in his hand. “What are you doing, anyway?”

“Picking up shingles that flew off the roof.” He clicked the grabber a couple of times, making the ends move like pincers. “Maybe it’s time you told me exactly what happened in this dream.”

I sighed. “Let’s walk and talk.”

I filled him in as he scoured the yard, picking up shingles. By the time I finished, he was rubbing his neck absently, just as I’d known he would. His neck was the place tension gathered first, especially when he was worried about something but determined to downplay it.

“I want to go check out this fair,” I said. “I’m going to need the car.”

“My car?”

I rolled my eyes. “Stop being precious about the Charger, Daniel. Yes, your car.”

“Well, you’ll have to forgive me for being cautious. The last time someone let you drive his car, you started a high-speed car chase through Miami.”

“I did not start that car chase,” I reminded him. “And, may I remind you, there was no damage to Kevin’s beloved Camaro?”

He dug the key fob out of his pocket with a huff, and I took it before he could change his mind. “Maybe I should just come with you.”

“If I need backup, I know where to find you,” I said lightly. I wasn’t sure Joseph would show if Danny was there. “Besides, I’m just going to be looking around.”

“Famous last words.” He sighed. “Should I even bother to tell you to be careful?”

“I will.” I handed him the cordless drill and leaned up to kiss him briefly. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Despite his displeasure, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “I love you, too.”

“How much?”

“Enough.”

“Enough is a little too fucking relative for my tastes, Irish.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh that was equal parts amused and exasperated, his cheeks a little pink. “Fine. What we have is truly, madly, deeply kind of shit.”

“And you’d better know it.” I tilted my face up for a kiss, and he obliged. It was a little too short. Almost a peck. “Did I mention my days as a sexless monk are over? Feel free to put some tongue in the next one.”

“I’m not going to French you on my mother’s lawn.” Flustered on Danny was a good look. Despite his knee-jerk refusal, he couldn’t stop looking at my mouth. “What will the neighbors think?”

“They’ll think their sex lives suck… which they probably do if they have their noses pressed to the window, watching two guys kiss.” I waited patiently, rocking back on my heels, thumbs in my belt loops. At his growl, I just smiled. “Any day now would be good, Irish.”

Even though I was fully expecting him to capitulate, his hand snaking around my neck took me by surprise. He hauled me in closer and kissed the living daylights out of me. He was so thorough, I could only put my hands at his waist and hold on for dear life. When things threatened to get less PG-13, we both pulled away, a little breathless.

His cheeks went even pinker, but he looked extremely satisfied with himself. And amused as