“In fact, I think I’ll get my driver and see Genevieve home,” Adam said.
Joe stood. “I’ll take her home,” he said in a tone that dared anyone to contradict him.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Genevieve said, and stared at Joe, trying to focus. It would have helped a lot if his head had stayed still. “Don’t you want dinner? And what if I want to stay?”
Joe ignored her and turned to Brent. “Are we still heading out tomorrow?” When Brent nodded, Joe added, “Do you mind an early start?”
“No problem,” Brent said. “How early?”
“Six. We’ll make it on down to Richmond, stay there overnight, then hit Baltimore on the way back.”
“I’ll arrange for a larger car,” Adam said.
“I’ll drive,” Joe said.
“Is your car big enough?” Adam asked.
Joe crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought just Brent, Nikki and I would go.”
“Aren’t you are just full of it?” Genevieve said angrily.
“Genevieve—”
“I do believe I’m your employer,” she said, trying to sound dignified, but she heard her own voice, and knew she just sounded snotty.
“I quit, then,” Joe told her.
“You can’t quit. You…you owe my mother.”
“Genevieve, you need to go home and get some sleep,” Nikki said gently. “In the morning—”
“In the morning Adam and I will be going with you on that trip or I will be doing whatever the hell I want back here in New York,” she said icily, then winced. Oh, God, she really did sound like a bitch.
“I think I’ll take her home now,” Joe said. “Adam, we won’t need a car service. I’d like to drive, so we’ll just rent something.” He inhaled deeply as he clenched his teeth. “Something big enough that the five of us can be comfortable.”
“Thank you,” Genevieve said primly, though she was tempted to cry. “And now I need to go home,” she said, standing and immediately starting to teeter as her head spun.
“I’ve got you,” Joe said, and put his arms around her to steady her.
The world was still spinning, but one thought occurred to her very clearly. Yes, you do have me. Too bad neither one of us can tell if you actually want me or not.
“Good night,” Joe said to the others. “See you at six o’clock at Gen’s, all right?”
“Fine. And I’ll arrange the rental,” Adam said. “Just one thing…”
“Yes?” Joe replied.
“I’ll explain everything tomorrow, but for now, Genevieve can’t be left alone. Not for a minute, do you understand?”
“I understand,” Joe said huskily.
No, he didn’t, Gen thought. Not yet, anyway. How on earth were they going to explain to him that the killer had dressed up as Poe to abduct Lori, even though she herself would have been his preferred victim, and that they knew this because Lori’s ghost had passed the message through Leslie and Matt, who were still hanging around at Hastings House? That was so not going to go over well.
As they walked toward Joe’s car, his arm still around her to keep her upright, he suddenly stopped and stared into the night.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he replied after a long moment.
“They’re out there, you know,” she said solemnly.
“Who?”
Ghosts, she thought, but decided not to say so.
“I heard footsteps. Real footsteps,” he said, when she didn’t answer his question.
She laughed softly. “That’s because there are real people in this city, lots of them.”
He looked down at her, and she could see him decide not to argue with her. It was scary, the way she was able to read his expressions, she thought, sure that if she hadn’t been with him, he would have investigated further.
The sounds from the pub were distant, and the street was quiet. He stood still for a minute longer, then urged her on to his car.
He was quiet as they drove, and she concentrated on not being sick. She felt his eyes touch her now and then, but they reached her building in silence. He signed in so he could get a visitor’s parking pass from Tim, who welcomed them both with a friendly smile.
As soon as Joe parked, she started to get out of the car on her own, certain she could accomplish the feat, but she fell back into the seat as she tried to stand, and the door swung back on her. By then Joe had rounded the car to help her, and he held the door open and helped her out, saying, “I’m not sure whether you’re going to be up to traveling tomorrow morning or not, Miss O’Brien.”
“I’m fine,” she protested. “I’m just a bit…tired. I assure you, I can handle my whiskey. It was Irish whiskey, after all, and I am Irish,” she said proudly.
“All right, Irish, let’s get inside.”