“No,” I answered.
Ruth rolled her eyes. “You’ll be lucky to see her. We were late last night.”
Alice frowned. “Now Birda’s spouting off about how our business is no good.”
Smoke practically streamed from Ruth’s ears. With Ruth looking like she was ready to wage World War III, I drove away and headed to Roan's bed-and-breakfast.
“Have you tracked down this supposed fiancé?”
I sat in Roan’s kitchen snacking on a plate of cheese and crackers. I don’t know what it was, but there was something about talking to spirits that made me hungry. Or maybe it was just the fact that every time I entered Roan’s kitchen, it smelled like food and made me ravenous.
Yep, that was probably more accurate.
“No, but I’m thinking I’ll pounce on him at the visitation, if they have one.”
A smile quirked Roan’s luscious lips. “Have you seen the paper this morning?”
My shoulders tightened. “Yes, I’ve seen it. Ruth almost had a heart attack when we told her. Devlin Monk and Birda must be pretty tight for him to write an entire story quoting Birda and dismissing Southern Ghost Wranglers.”
Roan set a plate of fruit in front of me. “There was a contest, if you remember.” He wiped his hands on a towel and leaned back, resting his hips on the counter.
I rolled my eyes. “There wasn’t a winner. Oh wait. I guess there was. Cora.”
“Yep.” He plucked an apple from a bowl and polished it on his shirt before taking a bite. After chewing for a moment, he said, “That’s the scream we heard.”
“But that’s not why she was screaming, was it? I mean, that’s what we thought—that she’d seen the banshee—but then she wound up murdered. Did Cora see her killer?”
“That,” Roan took another bite of apple, “is a lot of questions.”
I sighed. “I know and I don’t have any answers.”
Roan spoke between bites. “I don’t understand why you’re so worried about it. Kency Blount let Ruth go.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. It felt good to scratch at my scalp and feel my nails dig into the skin. It relieved some of my stress.
“Someone tried to frame Ruth, and that ticks me off. She’s my friend. If someone would do that to her, what else are they capable of?”
Roan finished his apple and extended his hand. I took it, and he threaded his fingers through mine. “That’s a good point, and you’re a great friend.”
I cocked a brow at him skeptically. “Is that a compliment you’re giving me?”
He grinned. “Try not to get too used to it, killer. Remember I’ve got a whole can of whoop butt tucked inside my other jeans.”
I laughed. Tension eased from my shoulders, and I tipped my head back as Roan’s lips covered mine. When we came up for air, he wrapped his arms around me.
“Blissful Breneaux, you have captured my heart.”
“Oh, and I was hoping for your soul.”
“So that you could eat it?”
I laughed. “How’d you know?”
We stared at each other until the intensity became too much. I fidgeted with my fingers. Roan’s shoulders sank.
“No rush, Blissful, no rush.”
I shook my head. What was I doing? My feelings for Roan were huge, weighing on my heart.
