Perfectly Matched (15 page)

“I don’t know. Usually, I can only feel spirits leaving a body and when departed loved ones visit those close to death.”

“Usually?”

“Lately, I’ve been able to feel spirits around all the time. But I haven’t yet learned how to communicate with them.”

I was curious. “How do you feel them?”

“A cold wind, a chill right to the bone.”

“Is one with me?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, but...”

“What?”

“Your boyfriend...”

“Sean?”

“There’s a strong presence with him. It pulses. You can’t feel it?”

I thought about the tombstone I’d just seen and wondered if the spirit was Sean’s mother. “Not at all.”

“Strange how our abilities are so different. I suppose that’s why there can be so many charlatans. It’s not as though being psychic comes with a set of rules.”

I nodded. “Rules would be nice. Page forty-two,” I intoned. “How to speak to the dead. Step one.”

He laughed. “That would be useful.”

“
Preston
thinks you’re the Grim Reaper.”

“I know. I’ve been having fun with her all day.”

I was beginning to like Dr. Paul. First Graham, now Dr. Paul. Next thing I knew I was going to be BFFs with Boobalicious Annie.

“Did you get her to have blood work done?” he asked.

“Not yet. I’m working on it. I have to tell you, though, that she’s probably not going to do it. She’s stubborn.”

“I don’t like seeing symptoms and not having a diagnosis. Keep an eye on her.” He glanced toward my foot, then looked around. “Where’s the tech?”

“Paperwork problems. I don’t have my insurance card with me. Or a credit card.”

He mumbled under his breath about red tape and said, “I’ll take care of it.”

In an adjacent glass room, he picked up a phone and made a call. A second later, he was back at my side. “The tech will be here in a second.”

“Thanks,” I said. I picked at a loose thread on my tote bag. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you really collect tiny skulls?”

“One for every patient who dies.”

I felt my eyes grow wide.

He laughed. “I’m joking! I used to have a collection of cat figurines, but my partner thought I needed to beef up my image a bit. He started the skull collection. It caught on. Now my patients give them to me as gifts.”

“Your partner?”

“Martin. He works in the Medical Examiner’s office.”

“You can’t get away from death, can you?”

“Like they say, Lucy. You can run, but you can’t hide.”

***

My foot was broken.

Not my ankle, thankfully, which would have caused me to be in a cast for at least six weeks. As it was, I had to use crutches and an orthopedic boot.

Dr. Paul made sure I had the best orthopedic doctor in the hospital look at my foot, prescribed me some painkillers, and kept me laughing with death jokes.

Maybe it was the medication, but by the time he left for the night, I thought of him as a friend.

It had been hours since my diagnosis, and I was ready to go home. While I was in x-ray,
Preston
hitched a ride home with Andrew, without even saying goodbye. In retaliation, I’d sicced Dovie on her. In no time flat Dovie had driven to Preston’s place, made her pack a bag, and brought
Preston
home with her.

Home—to the halfway house for the wayward.

Dovie had a full house.

Sean had called Em to fill her in, but insisted she didn’t have to come to the hospital since I was just about ready to head home.

As Sean listened to a nurse go on and on about my discharge orders, I fought back a yawn. It had been an incredibly long day.

It was another twenty minutes before I was finally settled in Sean’s car, my crutches stowed in the back seat.

He put his hand on my knee. “I just need to stop at the penthouse for a few things before I take you home. I’ll stay the night at your place, if that’s okay with you.”

I glanced at him through sleepy eyes. “Actually, you don’t have to stop at the penthouse.”

“Why?”

“Because earlier this afternoon, you moved in with me. Surprise!”

His face remained blank, but his fingers drummed the steering wheel. “I’m guessing there’s a good explanation?”

Yawning, I nodded.

“Well, I can’t wait to hear it, Ms. Valentine. But first, close your eyes and sleep. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

Oh, of that I had no doubt.

Chapter Fifteen

I slept all the way home, only waking when the tires of the car crunched over the crushed seashell lane that led to my cottage.

The sun had set hours ago, and the moon peeked out from behind thin, wispy clouds. Moonbeams streaked across the ocean, and the roar of waves crashing echoed in the night.

A warm welcoming glow filled the windows of my cottage, and I caught sight of Grendel sitting on a sill, peering out. Waiting for me.

I was glad Raphael had been by earlier—Grendel had anxiety issues and being home alone all day would likely mean a disaster for me to clean up.

Sean said, “Stay right there. I’ll come around.”

I yawned and stretched and glanced toward Dovie’s house, set slightly uphill from mine. Her house, nicknamed Aerie, was a glorious sprawling
New England
manor. Weathered wood and stone, it fit perfectly on the coastline, its many windows glowing like beacons.

Sean opened my door and gently grabbed hold of my forearms to help me out. I adjusted my tote bag on my shoulder and balanced on one foot while he extricated my crutches from the back seat. I was allowed to put only minimal weight on my foot for the next six weeks.

It was going to be a long six weeks.

“Easy now,” Sean said, navigating me along the stone path leading to the porch. Beautiful annuals bloomed, their color lit by small garden lights. The wind was blowing just enough for me to feel the spray of the ocean’s breakers, a gentle mist that would coat the many windows of my cottage—a former artist’s retreat—with salt.

The air was rich with the heady scent of lilacs. There were several varieties planted alongside my cottage to ensure blooms well into June. I treasured those shrubs, which had come from cuttings from my mother’s garden.

I loved this cottage. It was home.

Especially now that Sean would be living here, too.

I managed the few porch stairs, paused at the front door, then looked back at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I don’t have a key.”

His dark eyebrows drew downward. “Where is it? In the car?”

I shook my head. “No, not in the car. I have no idea where they are. Well, other than maybe in a kitchen somewhere.”

Confusion slashed across his face.

“Long story,” I said.

“You have a lot of those today.”

“Tell me about it.”

He pulled his keychain out of his pocket. “Well, I have mine.”

“It’s not going to work,” I said. “Raphael changed the locks earlier. I forgot to ask him what he did with the new set of keys, though.”

A voice rang out. “Yoo-hoo! LucyD!”

Dovie.

Sean’s lip quirked. “I think I have a good idea what he did with them.”

We turned and saw Dovie bustling down the hill, along the worn path that led from my house to hers.

It was a well-traveled path.

But Dovie’s intrusion into my everyday life was a small price to pay for living here. Besides, I happened to adore her—even when she was pestering me about having babies.

She jangled a set of keys as she came up the steps. “LucyD, my God, girl. What did you do to yourself? Em said something about your foot?”

“I broke it.”

Dovie smiled and waggled her eyebrows. “Bed rest?” She elbowed Sean in the ribs.

I rolled my eyes. “No, no bed rest. I can get around on the crutches just fine.”

“More
’s
the pity.” She
tsk
ed. “Well, come on then, let’s get you inside and get that foot propped up. I’m no stranger to broken feet, broken ankles, broken toes and what’s best is time, plain and simple. Time in bed is even better.”

Dovie had once been a burlesque dancer and then became a choreographer. She still worked at the local community theater and had the best moves in her Zumba class. Tall, lean, and lithe, she kept up her looks by eating right, staying active, and visiting her plastic surgeon regularly. “Let it go, Dovie.”

Above her head, Sean gave me a smile. He used to find Dovie’s attempts to get us to have a baby horrifying, but now he was amused by it.

I was still horrified.

“Party pooper. How long are you in that dreadful boot? Six weeks? Eight?” she asked.

“Six,” I said as Sean took the key from her and slid it into the lock.

The alarm system beeped until Sean punched in the code. Grendel let out a huge meow and sprinted over to me, only to start hissing at the boot.

He looked at me like I had betrayed him.

Just wait till he met Ebbie.

Speaking of... I glanced at Sean. “You should probably go up and get Thoreau and Ebbie.”

Dovie said, “No, no. I’ll get them. You stay right here with Lucy, Sean. I’ve made some chili, too. I’ll bring it down.”

“Chili?” I said. “On the hottest day of the year?”

“Fight fire with fire, LucyD.” She hurried out the door and scurried up the path.

I plopped onto the couch and Grendel immediately hopped up on me. I guess he’d forgiven me for bringing the boot in the house.

He was a creamy orange and white colored Maine Coon with expressive golden eyes and a weight problem. Maine Coons were normally extremely large, but Grendel tipped the scale. Marisol had put him on a diet, for which he’d yet to forgive her.

Bumping his head under my chin, he purred as I stroked his fur. Sean walked over to the mantel. Raphael had unpacked Sean’s things and had mixed Sean’s pictures in with mine. He stood there staring at the assortment of photos.

Finally, he turned around. Solemnly, he said. “They look good there.”

I nodded. “You look good here.”

He gave me a saucy smile. “Are you flirting with me?”

I lifted my foot and placed it on my coffee table. “I’m under the influence of Dovie.”

Laughing, he kissed the top of my head as he passed by on his way into the kitchen. My small cottage had an open layout. The living and dining room blended into the kitchen. The one and only bedroom was at the back of the cottage. I could hear my hamster, Odysseus, whose cage sat on my dresser, running on his wheel. He was up early tonight—it was only a little past nine.

Sean brought me a glass of ice water. I stared at it. “What? No wine?”

“Wine doesn’t mix with your painkillers. Doctor’s orders.” He took my tote bag and started emptying its contents. Discharge papers; my phone; the pink bear. He carefully set that in the bassinet that Dovie had gifted. I still hadn’t figured out what to do with it.

I’d told Sean all about my experience in the radiology room—except for the part where Dr. Paul mentioned that Sean had strong spirit vibes around him.

He normally took all my psychic baggage in stride, but he’d already had a tough day and knowing that he had spirits around him might send him over the edge.

“To think I’d actually started liking Dr. Paul.” I leaned over Grendel and picked up the pile of mail on the coffee table that Raphael must have brought in.

“He seems nice enough. A little strange, but nice.”

“A lot strange, but nice.” I pulled a magazine from the bottom of the pile and groaned.

“What is it?”

I held it up as he plugged my phone into the wall to charge. “
Parents
magazine. Apparently Sean and Lucy Donahue are new subscribers.”

This magazine subscription was probably what my mother had warned me about. Or, at least I hoped so.

He laughed. I loved the way it sounded, deep and raspy. For now, he was content. Knowing him, it wouldn’t last long. The arsonist was still at large. Sam was still in danger. And I hadn’t yet told him about Graham’s vision. It was bound to be a long night—Sean never slept well when he had a lot on his mind.

“She’s tenacious,” he said.

“Delusional is more like it. I don’t know how to get her to stop.”

He rummaged around in the kitchen. “The only way might be to have a baby.”

I whipped around so fast, I nearly knocked Grendel off my lap. Which was saying something.

Sean blinked at me innocently as he pulled a beer from the fridge. He twisted off its top and took a huge swallow. “It’s true.”