Page 14 of Crazy Spooky Love
“My name is Melody Bittersweet, owner of The Girls’ Ghost-Busting Agency. We’re local specialists in this area of work, Mr. Scarborough, and I really think I could help you.”
In days gone by, I’d have felt disloyal about basically going head-to-head with Leo to try to steal the job from under his nose. But then…what goes around comes around. He lost his right to my loyalty when he decided I was expendable in his life. All’s fair in love, war, and ghost busting, as they say. Or as I’ll say if he ever challenges me onit.
“He has all the help he needs,” Leo cuts in smoothly. His eyes flash with fury, quite at odds with his dismissive, throwaway tone of voice.
“I rather think that’s my decision,” Scarborough says, scowling, and I notice a chink in their relationship that Leo doesn’t want me to see.
“We may not be on television,” I begin.
“Or wear stupid capes,” Marina stage-whispers, making Leo’s lip curl.
“But I promise you that I know what I’m doing, and I might be able to speed things up for you here.”
I keep my eyes firmly on Scarborough, even though Leo is clearly hopping mad and dying to interject. He’s a step away from holding his arm up in the air like a kid desperate for the teacher’s attention, and he’s clearly finding it hard to hide all of that beneath his cool, calm Kylo Ren veneer. He settles for laying a proprietorial hand on Scarborough’s arm.
“Donovan. Can I call you Donny?”
“No.”
Leo falters for a nanosecond then recovers himself. “Donovan.”
“Mr. Scarborough.”
“Very well. Mr. Scarborough, rest assured I come with the highest credentials and the backup of a full professional team at your disposal around the clock.”
Scarborough turns to glance behind Leo at the aforementioned team, and his sidestep allows us to see beyond them to two blond women hovering in the hallway just behind them. One holds Leo’s deerstalker, the other his briefcase, and they’re wearing matching black bodycon dresses and patent red stilettos. Their clothes are not the only thing about them that’s similar; they have the same heads. Like,completely identical.
“Fucking hell! Creepy or what,” Marina gasps, and I can only agree. Leo seems to have acquired himself a living, breathing twin-set of Barbie dolls.
“I have a team,” I counter. All four people on the doorstep look at my team, aka Marina, in different ways. Scarborough’s expression is dubious, the twins’ eyes are territorial, and Leo’s are openly scathing.
“Marina Malone is your team?”
I nod, unabashed. “Marina is integral to my team, yes, along with others. Mr. Scarborough,” I turn my attention back to the homeowner, “my family are long-established and well respected in this area, and the service I can offer you is second to none.”
“Are you suggesting you don’t think this guy is capable of the job he’s been hired to do?” He cocks his head toward Leo.
I don’t dare glance in Leo’s direction. “No. But Iamtelling you that I’m better.”
“Bullshit!” Leo rips the Velcro fastenings from the neck of his made-for-TV cape and flings it at one of the creepy twins in the style of an infuriated matador.
“Is it?” I say, jutting my chin in the air. “Only that’s not what Isaac thinks.”
“Isaac?” Scarborough frowns, confused.
I fold my arms over my chest and nod. I fear my expression is dangerously close to smug. “Isaac. Your great-uncle.”
“I don’t have a great-uncle Isaac…” Scarborough trails off, unconvinced.
“Oh yes. Yes, you do. Or should I say, you did. He’s been dead for over sixty years and he’s standing right behind you.”
Finally, the twins become animated, dropping Leo’s belongings on the Minton-tiled floor as they scatter out of fear of being trampled by the undead. Marina raises her eyebrows in a triumphant, “beat that” expression toward Leo, who swallows hard and looks a tiny bit less sure of himself as he darts a glance over Scarborough’s shoulder.
“I knew that. Just didn’t want to startle you.”
Scarborough looks rattled, and shoves both of his hands through his salt-and-pepper highlights.
“I don’t know what’s going on here between you lot, but here’s what will happen. This house is giving everyone who steps inside it the creeps, me included. It always has.” He pauses to glance around the square hallway and shivers. I think Marina was spot-on when she said he was probably a man with an overblown sense of entitlement; he doesn’t seem at all grateful to have inherited Scarborough House. How can he not look at this place and see its potential as a gorgeous family home rather than selling it off to be stripped of its character and turned into a private nursing home?
