Haunted by Irene Preston & Liv Rancourt

Author:Irene Preston & Liv Rancourt [Preston, Irene & Rancourt, Liv]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780996809986
Publisher: Prescourt Books
Published: 2018-02-19T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Noel

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, this dude really thinks that magic baggie means something. Noel stopped at the top of the steps outside the apartment, flexing his fingers, trying to shake off the burn in his palm. He needed to leave, vamoose, get the hell out of Rio.

And do what?

He’d wrapped up his report on the Mandeville explosion, or come as close as he could until the cops or the FBI or whoever came up with an actual suspect. It might be worth talking to Sarasija Mishra, if he could get through the smokescreen put up by his lawyer. The First Street house fire hadn’t been assigned to an investigator yet, but since there was every indication the hospitalized man had started it, no one at Hughes Wallace seemed too interested in running down the cause. His boss hadn’t actually discouraged him, but…

The only reason Noel didn’t push was that in the two visits he’d made to the site of the Mandeville explosion, he’d never so much as had indigestion, let alone the kind of godawful weirdness he’d felt here.

Time for a drink.

Except, gin would only get him drunk, which wouldn’t truly solve anything. Noel dug his fingertips into his temples. Shit. There’d been a moment, when Adam had him trapped against the door, when it had taken all of Noel’s self-discipline not to spill everything. The man had…something. The word strength kept coming to mind, except that implied Noel himself was weak.

Well, damn. A weak man would empty his flask on the way to the bar. Noel shook his head, half wondering why he wasn’t safely in his Lexus already.

And half-sorry he’d left the apartment in the first place.

Because more than anything else, he was really fucking tired of being alone.

What was he going to do? Call Bergeron and…what? Hang out in a titty bar? Go back to the office and get handed another lame investigation he could do in his sleep…or dead drunk? Noel kicked at a clump of camellia blossoms, their white petals creased and bruised. Adam may be crazy and suspicious and untrustworthy, but at least he’d tried to meet Noel partway.

And shit. Who better to disprove the stuff he’d seen and heard and felt than a professional ghost hunter? Besides, Adam could still be lying, and unless Noel wanted to end up on some stupid show, he should stick around and protect his own interests.

He still didn’t move off the top stair. So many reasons, and not one had to do with that moment when Adam slammed his hand against the door. Noel had been trapped, but instead of anger, he’d felt heat. Gut-churning need.

Yeah, he wasn’t going anywhere. Probably another sign of weakness. All he had to do was come up with a reasonable excuse to get himself back inside the apartment.

The best he could come up with was a firm knock. Adam opened the door an inch or two, his eyes widened, and he swung it open the rest of the way.

“Um, hi.”

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