But Alice wasn’t giving up. She pointed one squat finger at me. “You saw the ghost. If you demand we come in, Xavier will have to let us.”
Oh, now she was trying to make a deal with me? Yeah, right, as if I bought into amateurs making equipment. The pack on her back would probably explode if she farted the wrong way.
“Um, I don’t think—”
But a voice interrupted me. “Ruth Biggs, Alice Cassidy, meet Blissful Breneaux.” Xavier said it nice enough, but then he scowled. “Ladies, what are you doing here?”
For the first time I noticed the slight Southern tinge to Xavier’s speech. I don’t know why I never realized it—oh, I know why, because the guy was a fraud, selling television drama instead of real life.
Ruth stepped forward. “We’re here to help y’all. Our equipment’s ready. Just think, Xavier, you could be the first person to ever capture a real life spirit—well, not really alive.”
“He knows what you mean,” Alice said sourly.
Xavier placed a hand on each woman’s shoulder. “Ladies, I appreciate your help. I appreciate the fact that you want to capture ghosts, but that’s not what this show is about. We investigate. Not capture. Besides, you know what happened the last time you tried to capture a ghost.”
“That wasn’t anyone’s fault,” Alice said. “The pack fell apart because it wasn’t screwed in right.”
Ruth laid the flat of her hand on her head. “We were just beginning to learn, then. Our technology has gotten much better. They get hot now. I even baked a chess pie on one.”
“Don’t tell him that,” Alice said. “He’ll think the equipment will melt.”
“Like it did that one time,” Xavier said.
Alice shot Ruth a dirty look. “See? I told you not to say anything.”
Xavier corralled the women away. “Ladies, let’s move on. We have a serious investigation to perform. If you want to help, go home and stop meddling with equipment that could kill you.”
Ruth waved him off. “Bah. I’m old. Lived a long time. It won’t bother me if the equipment kills me.”
“Yeah,” snipped Alice, “because you’ll probably come back and haunt me.”
Ruth smiled. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
I couldn’t help but smile as they ambled off, fussing at each other as they walked.
“Sorry about that,” Xavier said. “Everything is ready for us inside.” He did that weird shoulder squeeze again. I think he thought it was comforting, but I just thought it was weird, like he was faking his intensity. Boy, was Xavier intense.
“I’m ready,” I said. Was I ever. I just hoped that Susan was, too. Whatever she had planned, it needed to be spectacular.
Xavier glanced at Truck and Slick. “Is the equipment ready?”
Lines of ropes and cords wound from the back of their van, trailing all the way inside the restaurant.
“When is it not?” Slick said under his breath.
Truck nodded. “It’s ready. We’ve got everything all set.”
Xavier turned back to me. “Do you think you can do this?”
I bit back a laugh. “Yes. I know I can.”
His gaze narrowed. Xavier wagged his finger at me. “Your name. It’s been bugging me all day—Blissful Breneaux. You wouldn’t happen to be related to Vince Breneaux, would you?”
The bottom fell out of stomach. How would a cheesy television show host from a B-rated TV channel know anything about my dad?
I gulped a knot in my throat. “Yes. He was…he was my father.”
That fake concern filled Xavier’s eyes again. Okay, maybe it wasn’t fake, but it was seriously over the top.
