It was one thing for her to readily believe what Sarah told her, because Rosie had seen some bizarre shit, but someone who most likely didn’t believe in the supernatural, even if their house appeared to be haunted, probably wouldn’t be open to a virtual stranger walking up to them and dropping that kind of bomb.
Because it would, in fact, sound like she’d donned her crazy pants.
Groaning, Rosie rolled onto her side and her gaze traveled across the room, to the heavily curtained bedroom window. It was the only window in the room. She was grateful for investing in those blackout curtains, because none of the bright, flashing lights from the French Quarter seeped through that window.
Rosie sighed.
There was no way she could say anything about what happened tonight. She didn’t know the de Vincents well enough to approach them, but she could tell Nikki. Even though her friend believed in the supernatural, she seriously didn’t think Nikki would feel remotely comfortable telling any of the de Vincents what Rosie had heard, because again, it would sound a little insane.
Besides all of that, and all of that was enough for Rosie to keep her mouth shut, Sarah and she couldn’t be sure that it was Lawrence who’d briefly come through. Wasn’t like the spirit had entered with a name tag. Yes, it seemed like it was him. It made sense, after all. Rosie had been at the cemetery and given Devlin peonies. As creepy as it sounded, Lawrence could’ve been hanging around either his son or the cemetery and for some bizarre reason hitched a ride with Rosie.
Shifting onto her back again, she closed her eyes and blew out a ragged breath.
Anything was possible, which meant that spirit could’ve really been Lawrence and it also meant that it could’ve been someone totally unrelated to the de Vincents, and it was just a strange coincidence or it could’ve been another de Vincent other than Lawrence. For decades, that family had been plagued by deaths and all kinds of drama. They were cursed! Lots of their family members had died, many in weird and bizarre manners.
But what . . . what if it had been Lawrence? What if he had come through the reading and wanted it to be known that he hadn’t killed himself? That he’d been murdered ? That was a big deal. Wouldn’t they want to know that?
If the shoes were on her feet, she would want to know. She figured she had a unique perspective on things, but this wasn’t about her.
“Ugh,” she moaned, rolling onto her stomach and planting her face in the pillow.
“The devil is coming.”
Her thoughts kept turning, but finally, after forever, and after kicking half the blankets off her, she fell asleep. She had no idea how many hours passed before she was jarred out of dreams about lemon sorbet by the shrill sound of her phone ringing.
Groaning, she smacked around on her end table, blindly reaching for her phone. Her hand hit an empty plastic glass, knocking it to the floor.
“Damn it,” she muttered, lifting her face from the pillow. Blowing a thick curl out of her face, she stretched over and snatched up her phone. Squinting, she saw Nikki’s smiling face on the screen. It was a god-awful time in the morning; the kind of time that wasn’t even really morning in Rosie’s opinion.
She answered as she let her head fall back to the pillow. “Hello?” she croaked, and then winced. She sounded like she’d inhaled fifty packs of cigarettes.
“Rosie? It’s Nikki. I know . . . it’s early and I’m sorry,” Nikki said, and even half-awake, Rosie thought her voice sounded weird, like her words were mushy. “But I need your help. I’m in the hospital.”
Never in her life had Rosie woken up so quickly. The moment she hung up the phone, she all but flung herself off the bed. Fear had twisted up her stomach as she found a pair of black leggings that looked somewhat clean. She pulled them on, along with her oversized Got Ghosts! shirt. Her hair was way too much of a mess to even begin to do something with it, so she grabbed a scarf, shoving the curls out of her face.
Thank God and every deity she could think of that she kept a stash of those disposal toothbrushes in her Corolla. She brushed her teeth on the way to the hospital and when she got her first look at Nikki’s bruised and battered face while she was waiting for her outside just as sun crested the sky, Rosie heart cracked wide open.
She couldn’t believe what she saw as she ushered Nikki into the car or what she’d learned, and it wasn’t until after she finally got Nikki settled in her bedroom that she sat down and really tried to process what had happened.
No one should have to go through what Nikki Besson had been through.
“God,” she whispered, staring at her mug of untouched coffee. Scrubbing her hands down her face, she exhaled roughly.
Nikki could’ve died—she was almost murdered.
Hands shaking, she lowered them to her knees and looked over her shoulder, to the beaded curtain that separated the bedroom and living room. Last night, while Rosie was doing a ghost tour in the Quarter, one of her closest and nicest friends in the whole wide universe had been fighting for her life.
And in the process of fighting for survival, she had killed the man who attacked her.
Rosie shuddered.
Slowly, her gaze drifted back to the open laptop sitting on the coffee table that had once been a chess table. What had happened was already breaking news on the local news website. Luckily, Nikki’s name hadn’t been mentioned, thank God, but that couldn’t last for long.
“Parker Harrington. . . .” Rosie shook her head in disbelief. She didn’t know Parker personally, but she knew of him. The Harringtons were just like the de Vincents. Extremely wealthy with a long bloodline rooted in New Orleans and Louisiana. The Harringtons were so much like the de Vincents that Parker’s older sister was engaged to Devlin de Vincent.
The man she’d met less than twenty-four hours ago in the cemetery.
The man whose father might’ve possibly come through Sarah and told them he was murdered.
And now his fiancée’s brother had tried to kill Nikki—Nikki, who was possibly the sweetest and kindest person, who spent her weekends volunteering at the local no-kill animal shelter.
Nikki had defended herself with a . . . a wood chisel.
Another shudder rolled through Rosie as she leaned forward and picked up her mug. As far as Nikki knew, she couldn’t return to her apartment for some time. It was a crime scene, and if Rosie knew anything, she knew the police would simply leave. They’d remove the body, but they wouldn’t do any cleanup. Nikki would be left with that. Just like Rosie had been left to deal with that after Ian took his life.
There was no way she would let Nikki handle that. No way.
Guilt churned as she stared down at her light brown coffee. She liked it sweet with lots of sugar and cream. Actually, it was basically sugar with a dash of coffee. But right now, the coffee still tasted bitter. Rosie had been at Nikki’s apartment for hours earlier in the day, and from what she could gather from Nikki, Parker had showed up an hour or so later. If Rosie hadn’t left . . .
Being haunted by all the could’ve, would’ve, should’ve was worse than an honest to goodness ghost.
She took a sip of her coffee and was about to put the mug back down when there was a sharp knock on her door. She drew in a deep breath.
Call it a sixth sense or whatever, but Rosie had a good idea of who stood on the other side.
Gabriel de Vincent.
Nikki had told her he’d been at the hospital and she’d all but snuck out. From that very second, Rosie figured Gabe was going to ferret out where Nikki was and where Rosie lived. Standing, she stepped around the coffee table and crossed the short distance to her door. Throwing the dead bolt, she cracked the door open.
And she was right.
There stood Gabe, in all his hot, long haired de Vincent glory. Her gaze drifted over his shoulder and her heart jumped into her throat at the same time her stomach dropped. Gabe wasn’t alone.
Devlin was with him.
Chapter 4
Oh my God, she’d been expecting Gabe, but not him , not his brother. For a moment, she was so shocked, all she could do was peek out at them. She opened her mouth, but he pulled off a pair of silver aviators, tucked the arm into the collar of his shirt, and then those stunning sea-green eyes met hers.
He was going to have so many questions and how could she answer them? He was definitely going to want to know why she didn’t tell him who she was yesterday when it was now obvious she had some sort of tie to his family. Would he believe she honestly never thought she’d see him again? Because she’d honestly believed that.