Page 27 of Crazy Spooky Love
“Vikki and Nikki, actually,” a deep voice supplies, and we turn to find Leo Dark standing on the pavement behind us. He’s dressed down in jeans and an old T-shirt, and I’m momentarily and inappropriately reminded of the way he used to be before his superstar-twat gene kicked in, and of the times I dragged that exact T-shirt over his head to get him naked.
“Tell me that’s not their actual names,” I say, ignoring the fact that he looks hot without his cape, in favor of baiting him. It’s a line of defense I’ve settled for since we stopped ripping each other’s clothes off for fun.
“Leo, darling!” my grandmother purrs like a cat in heat, holding her arms out and encasing him in a welcoming hug. I make a mental note to thank her for her loyalty later.
“As glamorous as ever, Dicey.” He tips me a wink over her shoulder and my fingers ache to poke him in the eye. “Shall we?” He disengages from Gran and pushes the door open, ensuring everyone inside knows that we’re there. No escape, then. I sigh heavily and trail after Gran’s jade-green Juicy Couture–clad backside.
“You’re here.” My mother practically cheers, clearly relieved by the arrival of backup.
“You’re back,” Vikki and Nikki sigh into their untouched slices of cake, their wide eyes on Leo as if the messiah just showedup.
“Nipped to the car to grab this.” He produces a bottle of champagne and presses it into Gran’s delighted, heavily jeweled hands. “And these are for you, Silvana.” He gives my mother an artfully tied bunch of roses.
She lays them down on the counter with a smile that’s counteracted by her flared nostrils and the acerbic flash in her eyes.
“Why, thank you, Leo.” She cuts a slice of cake and pushes the plate toward him. “What brings you to Blithe Spirits? I don’t think we’ve seen you since the day you ate Melody’s heart for lunch and spat it back out again.”
I stare, mortified, and the twins gasp in breathy unison and let their forks clatter down onto my mother’s best china plates. I’m not entirely sure if they understand my mother’s sentiment or if they think Leo capable of actual cannibalism and are wildly turnedon.
“I’m sure we’ve all moved past that,” Leo says, his voice like smooth caramel over ruffled feathers. “I came to give you this, Melody.”
He pulls a small, pink tissue–wrapped parcel from his pocket and hands it to me. “To wish you good luck with your new business.”
“A peace offering?” I say, peeling back the layers of tissue to reveal a little silver horseshoe. “Or have you come to tell me that you’ve given up ghost hunting in favor of being a farrier for really tiny ponies?”
“Peace.” He ignores my sarcasm and inclines his head in a way I imagine he considers to be noble. “And a request that you stay away from Scarborough House on Friday. It’s a live broadcast.”
Ah, sothat’swhy he’s really here. He’s terrified I’m going to screw up his career on morning TV. I place the bundle of pink tissue down on the counter and sigh regretfully.
“How are you getting on with the case?” I ask.
“Terrible,” Vikki or Nikki says, at the same time as Nikki or Vikki shakes her head mournfully and whispers, “Awful.”
Leo takes a second to shoot them a long, dark look, and they recollect themselves and seem to remember who they bat for.
“Terribly…well?” Vikki or Nikki tries again, while Nikki or Vikki nods and adds, “Awfully good.”
“Me too.” I nod. “Quite an interesting bunch, really.”
“You think? I find Isaac quite belligerent.”
I know perfectly well that Leo is prying me for information, and I’m willing to give him precisely nothing. He’s no fraudster when it comes to ghosts, he sees them as well as I do. I suspect his problem with the Scarborough brothers is the same one he has with many people these days; he has a tendency to come over as a bit of a cock and they’ve decided to clam up on him.
“Perhaps he prefers my quiet approach,” I murmur. “Rather than all the razzamatazz and jazz hands of live TV cameras.”
Leo flicks his eyes like a bored child. “I doubt if he could care less. He’s a ghost, not a vampire scared we’ll spot his missing reflection.”
“And the others?”
He narrows his eyes, and he can’t rearrange his features quickly enough to fool me. He hasn’t met Douglas or Lloyd; I’m not convinced he’s even met Isaac properly.
“Champagne?” Gran asks, and the twins’ eyes light up until Leo shakes his head.
“We can’t stay, I’m afraid. Just wanted to deliver that.” He nods toward the pink tissue paper.
“You know I sincerely do wish you well,” he says as I see them out onto the pavement. “It doesn’t have to be a battle between us.”
I watch the twins fold their long limbs into the back seat of his car.
