“Hmm.”
I guess she wasn’t about that ghost life.
“I saw you’ll be attending the gala as well,” she said.
I had no idea how she knew that but I didn’t really care. The guest list wasn’t exactly a secret, especially now that I was a member of the Society.
“I have full access, which Evelyn approved personally." She finally dropped the camera from her face and looked at me with the brisk energy of someone who had seventeen things to do after this.
Clearly none of which would be doing a photo shoot of my skunk.
In spite of that, I put Vivienne in Room Five, which had the best afternoon light. I figured she would appreciate it.
With all four guests checked in and the house humming with the particular energy of occupied rooms—the sound of rolling bags and running water and someone opening and closing a window—I retreated to the kitchen and poured myself a very justified second cup of coffee.
Teddy plopped down on his usual spot next to the kitchen table.
“Maybe not as stodgy as I thought,” I told him. “More eclectic than stodgy.”
It was either talk to Teddy or talk to myself and while that was usually sufficient, it wasn’t cutting it today. I knew Hollis was home because his car was in his driveway so I texted him.
Coffee?
He gave me a thumbs up emoji in return.
Sometimes he surprised me. In all the time I’d known him I would have never taken him for a thumbs up emoji guy. But then again, he wasn’t a big texter in general. He preferred face-to-face.
Through the kitchen window, I could see the magnolia in the side yard, its blossoms fat and white and almost aggressively lovely in the April sun. And somewhere across the next yard, through the gap in the hedge, I caught the brief movement of a blue jacket.
A moment later, my back door opened.
"No one got killed today?” I asked.
Hollis Broussard came in, helped himself to a coffee mug, poured himself a full cup, and leaned against the counter. He crossed his feet at the ankles in what was his favorite kitchen stance.
“What makes you say that?”
“You still have your tie on. If you were just getting home you’d be more rumpled. You look positively fresh as a daisy,” I told him, shooting him a smile that teetered on a smirk.
He grunted. “That’s what it says on my dating profile.”
That made me cackle out loud. “Whoa. You just told a joke. You must be on a homicide-free streak right now.”
As a homicide detective in a city that had its fair share of them, Hollis worked long hours and was underpaid. He saw the worst of the worst and more often than not, he was a little cranky, with good reason.
“I slept for twelve hours straight after we made an arrest yesterday. I feel amazing.” He took a huge sip of his coffee and made a loud, “Ah,” sound of approval.
He gave me an affectionate smile that both unnerved me and made me feel a little warm from the inside out.
“Glad to hear it,” I said, and I meant it. “Sleep is one of life’s greatest pleasures.”
His eyebrows rose up and down. The corner of his mouth turned up.
It made me so flustered I raised my mug too fast and knocked my tooth with the edge. “Ow.”
"Full house?" Hollis said. “The street’s been busy this afternoon.”
"Four bookings."
