and they glowed. Sparkles of multicolored light shot from the ends of her corkscrew curls and dissipated into the air.
“Oh, my goodness.” She stared at her reflection. “Oh, my goodness.”
Meredith drifted into the bathroom. “You mean it doesn’t always look like this? I thought maybe you screwed a clown or stuck your tongue in a light socket.”
“Very funny.” Sassy tugged on a curl. It straightened and bounced back to its former loopy state. “This is a disaster. This is worse than a disaster. This is hairmageddon.”
“Maybe a bath will help,” Meredith said. “There’s shampoo and stuff in the linen closet. Mama took my things after I—you know. But Trey’s things are still here.”
“All of them?” Sassy was taken aback. “I didn’t . . . I mean, I thought someone would want them.”
“Who? You’re his next of kin. Dab emptied the fridge, and the maid service and the lawn guys come by every few weeks, but that’s about it.”
“Dab?”
“Dab Holt, the real estate agent.”
“Oh, yes, we’ve spoken on the phone.” Sassy sighed. “I guess that’s something else I need to take care of before I leave. I didn’t realize Trey’s belongings were still in the house.”
Things kept getting more and more complicated.
“Good thing.” Meredith indicated a neatly folded bundle on a shelf. “You can wear Trey’s robe while your stuff is in the wash.”
“I can’t wear Trey’s clothes.”
“Why not?”
“Because. It would be weird and creepy.”
“Suit yourself.” Meredith did a lazy spin in the air. “Bet your demon hunter will like you better naked anyway.”
“He’s not my demon hunter.”
“Does he know that?”
“I’m engaged.”
Meredith stopped in mid-loop, her eyes narrowing with avarice. “Engaged? Let’s see the ring.”
“I don’t have it. It belonged to Wes’s grandmother. It was too big, so he’s having it sized.”
“Wes? Spill it, girlfriend. I want the goods. Name, family, assets—the whole portfolio.”
“His name is Wesley Bodiford and his family is in banking. We met at Spring Hill College. I was a Delta Gamma and he was a Lambda Chi.”
“Trey was a Sigma Chi at Alabama.” Meredith’s expression was dreamy. “Those were the days.”
“I’m sure they were.” Sassy shooed the ghost toward the door. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a bath.”
“Okay. We can gossip while you’re in the tub.”
“I’d like to take a bath alone.”
Meredith stuck her lip out. “If you’re going to be that way. See ya later, sweet potato.”
The ghost disappeared with an audible pop.
“Sweet potato?” Sassy closed the door with a shudder. “I think I liked her better the other way.”
She opened the linen closet and found it fully stocked. Setting a washcloth, two big fluffy towels, soap, and shampoo on the shelf beside the tub, Sassy turned on the tap. To her profound relief, there was hot water.
The tub was large and took a long time to fill. Steam curled from the surface and swirled in the cool air, painting misty figures on the window glass. With trembling fingers, Sassy stripped off the boots and muddy clothes and slipped into the tub. She washed her hair and scrubbed her body, then sank into the blissful warmth and soaked, allowing the heat to pull the soreness from her battered muscles.
Too bad she couldn’t soak away the day’s memories.
She stayed submerged to her chin until the water started to cool, then climbed out and dried off. Taking the white terry cloth bundle from the shelf, she hesitated, torn between practicality and reluctance. Practicality won.
She donned Trey’s robe. Meredith was right. It was that or sashay around the house in a towel.
The fabric of the robe smelled faintly of cologne. Sassy lifted one edge of the collar and sniffed, inhaling bergamot, leather, and vanilla. This was her brother’s scent.
Tears stung her eyes. Picking up a comb, she jerked it through her unruly curls. She was pathetic, sniffling over a brother who’d never wanted her. How stupid was that?
She heard a scratching noise and turned, and that’s when she saw the face in the window.
Chapter Eight
Sassy padded into the kitchen wearing Trey’s robe and a pair of spa slippers she’d found in the linen closet with the rest of the supplies. Trey’s robe was too big and dragged on the floor. Out of the corner of one eye, she caught a glimpse of Grim at the stove. The smells of onions, garlic, and beef wafted in a savory cloud. Her stomach rumbled. Hurrying into the laundry room, she threw her grimy lingerie in the washer and started the delicate cycle. She examined the sad remnants of