Spooky Business (The Spectral Files #3) - S.E. Harmon Page 0,31

small and tinny on the speakers, and he turned up the volume. “Did you forget something?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just realized I forgot to ask if you wanted to stay with us. Just until I get the leak patched.”

“Oh, darling, thank you, but I would hate to impose on you.” She faltered, and I heard the moment the us filtered in. “Or Rain.”

There was a question in her voice that he ignored. He went on, his voice just as purposefully casual as before. “It’s no imposition. His parents stayed with us during the storm. We’d love to have you.”

“That’s… an interesting development,” she said, saying everything without saying much of anything at all. “I wasn’t aware.”

“Well, now you are.”

That’s my guy. I glanced over at him with fondness and exasperation. Delicate as a two-by-four across the face.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” she asked.

“We are.”

“I’d just hate for you to get hurt again.”

“Mom, I have you on speak—”

“He has a history of not sticking around—”

“Mom.”

She finally gave up on subtle as she blurted out, “Isn’t he still under psychiatric care?”

“That’s enough,” he said shortly. The tips of his ears were red with anger. I wasn’t surprised. He had a front-row view of all the issues I went through because of the ghosts in my life. He didn’t take too kindly to anyone even insinuating that I was crazy.

“I’m also bringing him along for Sunday dinner,” he said, and even I could hear the unspoken challenge in his tone. If I wasn’t coming, neither was he, and I mentally crossed my fingers that Paula would do the right thing. I didn’t want to be the cause of a rift between Danny and his mother.

She paused. It was a long fucking pause. “Is that so?”

“Yep.”

“I was hoping to invite someone I met at my book club meeting,” she said. “Such a nice young man. Name is Michael, I think.”

At least she stopped trying to set him up with women.

“It's your dinner. You can invite whoever you want. But I'd like to bring Rain as my guest.” At her silence, he plowed on, “If that’s not okay, then I won’t—”

“My home is your home,” she hurried to say. “You know you’re welcome to bring him anytime.”

From the sound of things, my helping of pot roast was going to have some extra seasoning—salt, pepper, a pinch of thyme, and a healthy dash of cyanide.

As I crossed the next intersection, I spotted a three-car accident that made me wince. If the almost translucent figure standing in the middle of the smoking wreckage was an indicator, it was a pretty bad one. The driver’s side of her little Civic was crushed and dented beyond recognition.

She flitted around two EMTs as they worked on the passenger side window, gesturing wildly as she spoke. Her expression was one of utter confusion and despair as they seemingly ignored her. My stomach clenched in sympathy. She didn’t know she was dead, and from the frantic way the EMTs were trying to break the window, neither did they.

I flipped on my lights and made my way to the left lane for a quick U-turn. “We should see if we can help,” I murmured to Danny. “There’s someone over there I need to speak to.”

Comprehension crossed his face even as his mother’s exasperated tone came through the speakers again. “For God’s sake, Daniel. You had me on speaker?”

“Yep. Rain and I don’t keep any secrets from each other.”

There was something pointed in his tone, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t for her. I bit my lip, thinking about the FBI badge in my desk drawer. Perhaps an addendum with the word “many” was needed to make that sentence truthful. Rain and I don’t keep many secrets from each other. Or even I don’t keep any secrets from Rain, but he’s hiding a doozy of one from me.

“Hello again, Rain,” she said.

Her comments pissed me off, but I wasn’t raised by wolves. “Hello, Mrs. McKenna,” I said dutifully.

“I hope you didn’t take offense at what I said.” The guilt in her tone was slightly mollifying—slightly. “I just… I just worry about my boy.”

“No offense taken. I know the feeling.”

“And so the last meeting of the Worried About Danny club is adjourned,” Danny said dryly.

“The WAD club sounds a bit offensive,” I said with a chuckle.

His mother didn’t seem to find either of us funny, although, to be fair, unamused seemed to be her default state. “I'll be seeing you at dinner,”