Oscar nearly choked on his wine. Why did she have to keep calling himdoctorlike that? It sounded so…flirtatious.
“Really?” Trib, who’d been flitting by, halted in an exaggerated comical fashion. Resting a hand on the back of Teddy’s and Diana’s chairs, he leaned forward. “Another ghost in Wicks Hollow? Shocker.”
“Don’t you have customers to see to?” Ethan asked with a grin.
“I do, but this is much more interesting,” Trib replied with a flap of his hand. “And if you don’t spill, Teddy Mack, I’m going to out you to Maxine and Juanita. And then they’ll tell Iva, and you’ll really be in trouble. Ivalovesher ghosts.”
“Who are they?” Oscar asked as Ethan said, “Ouch. That wouldn’t be good.”
Ethan looked at Oscar. “You haven’t had the pleasure, then. Lucky soul. And howdoesone explain Maxine and Juanita—and the rest of the Tuesday Ladies?”
“Never mind that,” Teddy said. “Oscar’s just trying to change the subject again because he doesn’t want to talk about the weird things that have been happening at the lighthouse.”
Damn. Foiled again. Oscar gave her a weak smile and lifted his champagne flute in a white-flag toast.
“Tell us. Can’t be any weirder than what happened last summer when my Aunt Jean was haunting me,” Diana said as blithely as if she’d been ordering a glass of water. She glanced at Oscar. “Don’t worry—I didn’t want to believe it at first myself.”
“But then she really had no choice because ghostly Jean began throwing books around, and she messed up her kitchen once,” Ethan said. “And that’s when Diana called me over to rescue her from the specter.”
Her eyes widened and began to shoot sapphire sparks. “That iscompletelynot true. You never rescued me, you—” She began to laugh. “You did that on purpose.”
“I just like to see you get all stiff and prissy so I can soften you up later.”
“Oh, get a room, you two.” Trib snorted. “Some of us don’t want to live vicariously through your hot and heavy romance.”
“Why are you complaining? Did things go south with Lionel?” Diana touched his hand. “You two seemed to be getting along so well.”
“No—well, I don’t know,” Trib replied, his voice approaching a distraught whine. “He’s just been so—distractedlately. I don’t know. Anyway, forget about me—I want to hear about the ghost at the lighthouse, Teddy. Do you think it could be Stuart Millore?”
“You mean the man who jumped—or fell—off the top?” Teddy replied.
“Or was pushed,” Oscar added, and was rewarded when his housemate gave him a warm smile. His insides, dammit, lurched.
“Or was pushed. Maybe hewaspushed. In fact, Oscar, wait—don’t you remember? That’s exactly what we were talking about when the door blew shut and inexplicably locked. About whether he might have been pushed. Which would make itmurder,” she added unnecessarily.
The sparkle in her eyes should have made him wary—after all, she was excited over someone getting killed?—but Oscar thought he was beginning to understand how her mind worked. A little strange, but logical in its own way.
“And if there’s murder,” Ethan said, “it makes sense for a ghost to be attached to the location.”
“And for said ghost to scream bloody murder at one thirty every night in a reenactment of its dying moments as its corporeal person catapulted from the top of a lighthouse,” Teddy said, her eyes still dancing.
“Every night?” Oscar repeated weakly.
“Yes. Surely you’ve been hearing it too.” She gave him a sharp look.
Well, yes. But he didn’t realizeshehad been hearing it.
“Anyway, I don’t think you can deny it, Oscar. There’s a ghost haunting Stony Cape Lighthouse.”
Nine
“You have some questions,”Teddy said, resting her head back against the seat of Oscar’s Jeep. She was relaxed and happy, had been well fed and well entertained this evening, and best of all: the book was done.
She’d had just enough wine to make her a little loose, but far from sloppy or goofy. And she couldn’t stop thinking about how cute Dr. Oscar London was—and what a fun dinner partner he’d turned out to be.
“Just a few,” he said, his mouth a little grim as he followed the broad sweep of a curve along the wooded road. “Why didn’t you mention hearing the scream every night?”
“I was too busy trying to finish a bloody book,” she said. “I had other more important things on my mind than a ghostly presence. Why didn’tyoumention it?” she countered, enjoying her companion’s adorable sense of unease.
