Page 27 of Grave Curse

Aww. No matter how surly she got, her true marshmallow-y self always came out in the end. That more than anything convinced me that deep down, Ginger wanted to be a good girl.

Mygood girl.

She didn’t move, watching the screen and clearly waiting until she felt safe enough to haul open the sliding door. I thoroughly approved of her caution. When she was calm, she was smart and reasonable and as rock-steady as a combat veteran. It was only when she got freaked out that she seemed to lose all damn sense and suddenly thought she was fucking invincible.

She retrieved the box, locked the door and lost the bat, then moved deeper into the loft. I switched camera angles as she settled at the granite-topped kitchen island, chuckled again at her wince when she turned on the overhead light, and opened the box.

“What the…” Her expression was a masterpiece of bewilderment when she pulled out a dark pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses.

Then a bottle of Tylenol.

A box of Alka Seltzer.

A small bottle of the blue Gatorade.

A large bottle of Fiji water, her favorite.

Breath mints.

Saltine crackers.

Vanilla pudding cups.

A couple bananas.

Once all the items were laid out on the counter, she stared at them for nearly a minute, and I could almost see the smoke coming out of her ears as she tried to figure it all out. Unsurprisingly she grabbed the box and turned it over and over, clearly in search of the sender’s name. When she came up empty, she went to her forgotten purse from the night before, dug out her phone, let out a heartfelt, “Fuck!” before grabbing up a charger, plugged it in at the island, then plugged in her phone. Then she put it to her ear and waited.

“Hey, girlie.”

Roxie. Had to be.

“Yeah, I know it’s early and I know you’re probably feeling as rough as I am right now, but I need to know something. You didn’t happen to send me a… well, a kind of hangover care package, did you?” She frowned as she listened to her friend, then pulled the phone away from her ear to give it a baffled look, making me chuckle again. Roxie had to be reading her the riot act. “Okay, but before you hang up on me, two things. One, it was your idea we hit Lush in the middle of the week, so it’s not my fault you’re this hungover, and two, that Red Flag guy you introduced me to last night… you didn’t happen to give him my physical address so that he could send me a hangover care package, did you?”

Red Flag.

Road name, or someone who triggered internal red flags in her?

It didn’t matter. I’d know everything about him soon enough.

“Wait, what do you mean, he could be a psycho ax murderer? I thought you said he was Olive’s brother. Okay, okay,” she went on in a placating tone while rubbing her brow with her free hand. Then she plucked up the Ray-Bans and slid them on. Not only did she look instantly fucking hot, but her sigh of reliefwas straight-up adorable. “You’re right, just because he’s Olive’s brother doesn’t mean he can’t also be a psycho ax murderer. For sure, he could be a multitasker, so thank you very much for not sharing my address with him. Tell you what, why don’t you go back to sleep and don’t come into the shop until after lunch? I’m not even sure I’m going to be in until after lunch myself. Right. Okay, bye.”

She set the phone aside, stared at the contents of the box spread out over the counter, then snagged the phone up again. A second later my phone rang, and the image on my screen fuzzed out as a name popped up under the number.

Ginger.

My smile felt downright evil as I hit the right button. “Isn’t this a little early for you?”

“I don’t even know what time it is.”

Heh. “Eight-ish. Did you want something from me, Snap, or did you need to hear the sound of my voice first thing in the morning, just so you could get your day started off right?”

I would have given my Harley to see her face as she sputtered. “I… what? No! Just, I… no, don’t be ridiculous. Geez. Why is it we can never have a normal conversation?”

“What’s your idea of a normal conversation?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a hi-how-are-you kind of thing. But that’s beside the point. The reason I called is because I have a question, and it’s probably going to sound a little strange.”

Oh, this was too fucking delicious for words. “So in other words, not a normal conversation?”

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