Charlaine Harris by Night's Edge

Author:Night's Edge
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fiction, General
ISBN: 9781741168457
Publisher: McPherson's Printing Groug
Published: 2010-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

BY THE TIME THEY FINISHED the chapter it was nearly dawn. The “ghost” or whatever was raising hell in Kiley’s new home had been quiet for the rest of the night, and she was starved.

She closed the cover. “Well, that was helpful.”

“Not.”

She stretched and got to her feet. “Hungry?”

“Don’t tell me you’re offering to cook me breakfast?”

“What are you, insane? You’re taking me to IHOP.”

He glanced at his watch. “They won’t be open for an hour and a half.”

She pouted. “Oh, hell. Well, I can scramble an egg, but the whites might be runny. I never seem to get them quite—”

“How about if I make breakfast?”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, I can cook. Just don’t let it get around.” He got up, pulled on his jeans.

She led the way to the kitchen, showed him where things were, put on a pot of coffee, then sat at the table and watched him work. He knew his way around a kitchen, whisking eggs in a large bowl, adding milk, cinnamon, nutmeg, soaking slices of bread in the concoction, and dropping them onto a sizzling griddle.

“Wow,” she said.

“I’m a man of many talents.” He glanced at her. “As you would have found out last night, had we not been so rudely interrupted.”

She let herself grin back. This was something new, this flirting going on between them. She wasn’t sure how to react to it. Was this going to be the new nature of their relationship, now that she’d vowed to stop trying to discredit him and put him out of business? How odd it would be not to be his worst nightmare. She wasn’t sure how to deal with it, or whether she even liked it. She’d enjoyed tormenting him, hounding him.

So she decided to change the subject. “Let’s nutshell this, shall we?”

“Sure.” He expertly flipped the French toast.

“What do we know about this house that we didn’t know before?” she asked.

“Well, the last couple who lived here moved out within six months, but refused to cite a reason or be interviewed by the book’s author,” Jack said.

“The couple before that claimed that the place was haunted. Talked about lights and things going on and off, items being moved around, footsteps in the middle of the night.”

“Nothing as drastic as what’s been happening to you, though.”

She nodded. “Same as the family who lived here before them. They actually liked the ghost, said it watched out for them. I wonder why. I mean, the ghost has never seemed hostile to anyone else—”

“That we know of,” he said.

She nodded. “But prior to that, there was nothing—not until the suicide.”

“Yeah. You know, I had no idea Phil Miller had ever lived in this house, much less that his first wife had committed suicide.”

“You mean you know him?”

He nodded. “He’s a music teacher in a neighboring school district. Must be close to retirement age by now. But I’ve seen him around.”

“He comes into your shop? Seems interested in the spiritual?”

“Nah. We eat in the same diner a lot.”

“Oh.” She was disappointed.

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