Page 26 of Ghost Town Boogie

Nicole had to speak up. “Why do you look like that when you say her name, but I was off limits because you see ghosts?”

“She was the last one to see the victim, other than a couple of tourists no one else saw,” Mac said. “That we’ve found, so far.”

“Last to see Nicole other than whoever killed her,” Colt added, wondering how he could tell Mac about the man who wanted the duck. How could he ask if that picture was missing? By the way, is there a framed picture of a duck near the body? Nope. There was no logical way to explain away that inquiry.

Mac looked at Colt in a different way. They went out for a drink at a bar downtown now and then, watched football, shared the occasional pizza and six pack. Colt didn’t have many friends, these days. His old buds from high school remembered the old Colt, the boy he’d been. Mac only knew Colt as he was today. The chief didn’t seem to mind having a friend with a few quirks.

This look was new. It was… suspicious.

“She had a thing for you,” Mac said.

“Anna?”

“The victim.”

“My name is Nicole!” she shouted. “Jerk,” she added in a lowered voice. “The victim.”

“I don’t think so,” Colt said, even though he’d just learned differently.

“I’m not known for my subtlety, Hart,” Nicole hissed.

“According to Anna Miller, she asked about you a short time before she died.”

“He makes it sound like I just dropped over dead for no reason. I was murdered, asshole.” Nicole moved closer to Mac. She leaned in and sniffed at his jaw. “An asshole, but a cute one. I should’ve gotten into trouble a time or two so I could’ve made the chief’s acquaintance. Since you wouldn’t give me the time of day, I could’ve tried to make you jealous by banging this one’s brains out.”

She kissed Mac on the cheek. He reached up and wiped at his cheek as if a bug were buzzing there, actually looked for an insect as his hand fluttered.

Good luck waving Nicole away…

Her mother had been asleep for hours, but Anna couldn’t even think about closing her eyes. Nicole. Colt. That very suspicious and oddly yummy police chief. Her mind would not be still! Her boring job in Nashville took on an unusual appeal, at the moment.

She was still mortified about this afternoon’s miserably failed attempt at seduction. The logical explanation was that Colt didn’t want her, but she knew that wasn’t true the same way she knew that tomorrow morning the sun would rise. The tides would ebb and flow. She’d seen the truth in the way he looked at her, in the way he reached for her hand. The kiss had been fantastic. That couldn’t have been one-sided.

Since she was already mortified, why be shy now? She grabbed her phone to type a text. He hadn’t responded to her last one, but this time… maybe, maybe not. Colt could be sound asleep. Asleep or awake, he might ignore her. If he continued to ignore her, she’d know she didn’t have a chance.

Nicole had been bold, much bolder than Anna had ever been. Now the redhead was dead and everything in her life that was undone would remain undone forever. Nicole’s unrealized dreams would remain unrealized; tomorrow would never come.

Life is short. Eat dessert first. If you want something go for it, even if you have to try, try again.

She started simply. Awake?

The answer came in quickly. Yes.

She could make small talk, ask how he was, text about the fine weather, but why bother? Want company?

She waited without so much as taking a breath. The pause was a few seconds longer than she thought it should be before the answer came. I’m at the Pine Street house. I’ll come get you.

The wind in her lungs left in a rush. She didn’t need to be collected, but she got it. It was late and a woman they both knew had just been murdered. Either of those things would be enough to make a man of proper upbringing insist on offering an escort. She could hope he simply couldn’t wait to see her, that he had to see her now. Wishful thinking…

Anna popped out of bed, turned on the light, and stripped off her pajamas. She grabbed a sundress out of the closet and pulled it on, then stepped into a pair of flip flops. Yes, it was a late September night, but this was also the gulf coast and the days, and nights, were still pleasant. If she was lucky she wouldn’t be wearing anything for very long.

She grabbed her small purse, since she’d need the keys to sneak back into the house before her mother woke, and stopped before her small mirror just long enough to apply a swipe of pink lipstick.

“Here I come, Coltrane Hart.” If at first you don’t succeed…

The floor beneath her feet seemed to shudder; the curtains fluttered. Anna dismissed both as the tremors her mother occasionally complained about. She really needed to get someone in to check that out. She doubted it was earthquakes, but there could be a problem with faulty plumbing, or a wonky heat and air system. Something else to handle before they sold the house.

But not tonight.