“We need to talk to your parents. Maybe they should fire him or make sure he and Nola aren’t scheduled to work at the same time. . . .”
Jack stepped forward and put a finger to my lips. “Before we jump to conclusions, why don’t we have a talk with Beau, see what he has to say?” He dropped his hand and I resisted the impulse to lick my lips. He continued. “Regardless, I doubt you have anything to worry about. You’ve never advertised your psychic abilities. All the spirits you’ve dealt with since I’ve known you have found you and not the other way around. If he wanted to make a podcast episode about you, I’d suspect it would be a very short one.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “Unless he wanted to discuss your methods of organizing your life. That could fill a year’s worth of episodes. Maybe more.”
I stood to face him. “Sure. You can laugh now. But if Beau does want to go that route, I might become the next Marie Kondo and never have to worry about money again for the rest of our lives.”
Jack chuckled. “Well, let’s mention that to Beau when we have our little chat.” He squinted, studying me closely. “You have an eyelash getting ready to drop into your eye. Hang on a sec—don’t move.”
He stepped closer and I could feel his warm breath on my face, heating my entire body. “Look up.” One hand held the back of my head while he gently removed the offending eyelash.
“Got it,” he said, but he didn’t step back, nor did he remove the hand that was cupping my head. “I think you’re good to go.”
I stayed where I was, blinking several times in the hope that another eyelash would shake loose. “Are you sure?” I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation of being so near him again. I leaned closer.
“Mellie?”
My eyes jerked open. “Yes?”
“Is there anything else you needed to tell me? It’s late.”
“Oh, right.” I stepped back. “I wanted to let you know that I made an appointment to see Yvonne Craig tomorrow morning at ten. In case you wanted to come, too.” I tried not to sound too hopeful. “I asked her to find out what she could about the property beside the cistern. I’ll fill you in tomorrow, but we may have found a grave near the cistern.”
Jack didn’t blink. “Because this wouldn’t be our house if there wasn’t at least one skeleton buried somewhere. I can’t even pretend to be surprised.” He looked up at the ceiling. “I do believe that my calendar is completely empty, so I’m available.” He yawned, covering his mouth with his hand because he’d been raised by Amelia Trenholm. “Anything else?”
“Last thing—promise. I received an odd text yesterday. From an 843 area code, so it’s local—but not a number I recognized.”
“What was the message?”
“?‘You will be sorry.’ All shouty caps.”
“?‘Shouty caps’?” Jack failed to suppress a grin. “I don’t think that’s what it’s actually called.”
“Of course it is. If I’d just said ‘all caps,’ that could signify someone forgot to take off the caps lock. But by saying ‘shouty caps,’ you know they were intentional and that the words were meant to be shouted at you. There’s a big difference.”
Jack faked a serious face. “All right, then. Maybe I’ll use that in my next book.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket and opened the screen. “What was the number?”
“I already did a Google search,” I said proudly. “I didn’t get any hits.”
“Good thinking.” His eyes were warm as he spoke, making me more pleased with myself than the simple task of Googling warranted. “But let me have it anyway. Maybe it’s someone I know with an unlisted phone number.”
My spine stiffened. “But why would—”
“I’m just hypothesizing, Mellie. I have a long history of interviewing people for my books who prefer to keep under the public radar. Not that they’d have a reason to text you or have your number. I still have to check. And I promise I’m not having some sordid affair.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You didn’t have to. I seem to have acquired the uncanny ability to follow your thinking as it jumps from conjecture to conclusion without pausing in the middle. I think it might be a self-preservation instinct from my prehistoric ancestors.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Too bad you haven’t moved farther along the evolutionary path. I guess I should be glad that the father of my children can stand upright.”
“And here I was thinking that you actually liked some of my more animallike behavior.”
My face flushed as I recalled exactly how much I liked it; then I reached for my phone to avoid looking at him. I read out the number while Jack typed it into his phone, his mouth definitely wearing a smirk.
He shook his head. “Not someone in my contact list. We should—”
“Tell Detective Riley,” I finished for him. “I already did. He said he’d let me know what he finds.”
Jack sent me his trademark blood-swooshing grin. “Well done, Mellie. Beauty and brains. I knew there was a reason I married you.”
He’d meant his words to be lighthearted, but the unasked question sat heavily in my chest. But not enough reason to stay with me?
I took a step toward the door, as eager to leave as I was to stay. “I guess we should both go to bed.” I frowned, my tired brain replaying what I’d just said out loud. “Separately, I mean. With you here. And me there. In our beds. But not together.” I really needed to stop hanging around Jayne so much.
“Good night, Mellie.”
I backed up toward the door, pausing as my hand touched the doorknob. As tired as I was, I was still reluctant to leave. Being with Jack, even without touching, made me happy. I had the fleeting thought that I should ask him if I could sleep in the chaise longue just so I could know he was near. Instead, I found myself focusing on the ancient porcelain ceiling fixture.
“I’m going to call Greco. He did such a great job redecorating Nola’s bedroom, I’d like him to work on the guest room for one of the twins. At some point they’re not going to want to share a room anymore. Jayne says that if we do it sooner rather than later, it won’t be as stressful on JJ and Sarah.”