Or, for goodness sakes. “I got all of the ashes and bone fragments washed off, Pierce.” Although my skin was still crawling a little bit. Then I looked over my shoulder at Clark, who still slumped against the wall. “Why do you think Krissy is being nice?”
Pierce coughed. “I wouldn’t say she’s being nice.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and held it up to show me the screen while still remaining feet away. “Her first call was to one Jolene O’Sullivan at the paper, and the online article has already gone live. You really did take a long shower.”
The picture of Clark and me in the closet covered in ashes covered the entire screen. “Oh, crap,” I murmured.
Pierce nodded. “The print version will come out tomorrow morning, and you know Friday morning is often the biggest news of the week here in our little county.” He looked down and scrolled through. “There are several pictures in the online version, anyway. What were you doing at that sink, Bunne?”
Clark groaned.
I tried to drum up righteous anger. Or irritation. Or anything. Nope. Just mortification. “Krissy isn’t trying to stay too far under the radar if she sent the story to the press.” So why did she let us off the hook?
Pierce unlocked the door and swung it open. “While I’m of a mind to let you two spend the rest of the night in here, there are no charges and I don’t have the energy right now. Get out.”
I hurried out with Clark on my heels.
Pierce stepped away. “Bud is waiting to escort you back to your vehicle, and he’s in a really bad mood.” Pierce seemed to brighten a little. “Have fun with that.”
I grimaced but followed him down the hallway, noting that he stayed a safe distance from us. It wasn’t like we were infected with ghosts now. “Thanks, Pierce.” At his grunt, a much more irritated one than Clark had issued earlier, I fetched my belongings at the front desk and hurried into the warm night. Or morning. Whatever.
Bud made us sit in the back of the patrol car and didn’t chat on the way out to my partially hidden car by the funeral home. Clark rested his head back on the seat and didn’t talk, either.
My phone rang, and I cringed before answering. “Hello.”
“Hey, sweetheart. I was up early talking to a friend on the East Coast and saw the article. That Jolene O’Sullivan is such a rotten person. Terrible. I’m so sorry,” Nana O’Shea said cheerily.
My body relaxed, and a tear might’ve poked the back of my eye. “Thanks, Nana. It was a misunderstanding.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that, sweetling.” Her Irish brogue was soft in the early hour. “You’ll need to drive over in the morning for a smudging. Don’t argue with me.”
Clark perked up. “Smudging?” Apparently my partner in crime had a good sense of hearing because my grandma wasn’t that loud on the phone.
I put her on speaker. “Clark is here, Nana. He wants to know about smudging.”
“Oh, good. I was going to get your number from Anna, Clark. You must come to Silverville in the morning for a sage smudging and then some energy work. After what you’ve been through, we’re going to want to make sure nothing…clung after being spilled. The sage will cleanse you. It even has anti-bacterial properties, if you need a science based reason to visit me. What do you say?”
“Yes. Definitely. We’ll come and get smudged,” Clark burst out, the words tumbling over each other. “I have the day off and am supposed to golf with Sean in the afternoon but can be smudged all morning.”
I looked at him, unable to keep the surprise off my face.
He didn’t even look at me, his attention solely on my phone.
“Good. See you then.” Nana knew when to hang up when she was ahead.
Bud pulled next to my car and stepped out to open the door and release us. “Try to stay out of trouble.”
I edged away. “Are you going to call Donna or what?”
He didn’t answer.
I frowned. “She’s not like me. Don’t let my life interfere with your love life.”
Bud blushed deep enough I could see it in the moonlight. He turned, sat in his vehicle, and then drove quickly away without saying a word.
Clark shook his head and settled into the seat of my Fiat. “What time are you picking me up tomorrow morning?”
I sighed. “How about eight? That way we could get a little sleep.”
“Oh, I’m never sleeping again,” Clark muttered.
