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Buku Trace of a Ghost by Cherie Claire

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Trace of a Ghost by Cherie Claire

Author:Cherie Claire [Claire, Cherie]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Cherie Claire

Published: 2018-02-10T16:00:00+00:00

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Trace of a Ghost by Cherie Claire

“Vi!”

It’s TB shoving me awake.

“Shelby came by, said dinner’s in ten. I didn’t know if you want to shower or anything.”

 

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Trace of a Ghost by Cherie Claire

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Trace of a Ghost by Cherie Claire

 

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Trace of a Ghost by Cherie Claire

Author:Cherie Claire [Claire, Cherie] , Date: June 11, 2019

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Author:Cherie Claire [Claire, Cherie]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Cherie Claire

Published: 2018-02-10T16:00:00+00:00
“Vi!”

It’s TB shoving me awake.

“Shelby came by, said dinner’s in ten. I didn’t know if you want to shower or anything.”

I sit up, knowing I’ve been sleeping for there’s a dollop of spit on the side of my mouth. I wipe it off with my hand, trying to pull out of the haze. The room’s dark so I know the sun’s gone down.

“You okay?”

Am I? I feel lost. Even though I must have been napping for at least an hour, these visions of ghosts demanding entrance into my sleep interferes with my ability to rest. Many times, when I’ve dealt with these mysteries I’ve gone days without a good night’s sleep because the ghost tales invade my dreams until I find them peace. Am I closer to solving Cora’s murder? With Reynald and McDaniels in the picture, I have at least two prime subjects. I wouldn’t recuse Menasha either. Something about that passive-aggressive countenance makes me suspicious.

“Did you see Cora again?”

I nod, recalling that last scene, but I don’t feel like discussing it. I’m still pissed at him. I look up and my husband’s showered and changed, looking smart in a royal blue shirt and string tie over Levis. He’s rarely out of jeans but the top half of him prefers flannel shirts in winter and T-shirts in summer.

“Is this dressy?” I ask.

“No, just thought I’d wear something different for a change.”

I reluctantly slip into a nice shirt and slacks with a cardigan sweater. I’m doubly tired and irritable from the day’s event and lack of a restful nap and keep grumbling about having to dress up for a rural property dating back to the early 1800s.

“We’re probably going to have barbecue over a pit anyway,” I spit out as we leave our warm cabin and emerge into what has become a frigid night. Now, I really wish I were still in my LSU sweatshirt and jeans, topped by my warm winter coat.

“I never said you had to dress up,” TB counters.

We join the rest of the group in the Council House Cafe where staff members are ready to serve up items that smell heavenly and no, it’s not barbecue. Carmine’s back from the police station, huddled in a corner with Winnie and the Pennington couple. All three give me a stare, which adds to my discontent. Pepper, too, eyes me suspiciously, turning her back when she catches my eye. Naturally, Dwayne’s charming Shelby who’s laughing heartedly — until she notices me enter and then her smile fades.

“Great,” I tell TB. “Everyone’s happy to see me.”

TB heads toward Carmine and touches him on the back. “Everything okay?”

I follow along but I’d rather get a plate of whatever smells so good and head back to my cabin. If vibes were knives in this place, I’d be the one in the hospital, not Kelly.

Thankfully, Winnie saunters up and whispers in my ear. “Dang it, girl. You only broke her leg.”

I want to laugh. So badly. But the last thing I need is people thinking not only did I push that woman over a cliff, but I’m relishing it.

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