The House on Prytania (Royal Street #2)(60)
Author: Karen White
“And you’re sure it’s the same?”
I nodded. “It would be pure coincidence that an identical yellow ribbon would be found in my yard.”
“Except there’s no such thing as coincidence,” we said in unison. Despite the confusion with which my brain was grappling, a half smile formed on my lips as I recalled the times Cooper and I had heard my dad say that as we stood in the kitchen or sat at our dining table at the house on Tradd Street, trying to work through the clues of a mystery. He’d been the Ned to my Nancy Drew, and the memory swept through me, wrapping me in its comforting warmth.
Beau stepped out onto the porch. “Do you want the good news first or the bad news?”
“Does it matter?” I was too mentally exhausted at this point to care one way or the other.
“Fine. I’ll give you the good news first. The house is clear. Nothing is broken, and there’s no blood or any other substance in the upstairs hallway, or anywhere else that I can see. Whatever visitors were here are gone. Or, more likely, are taking a rest. Which brings me to the bad news.”
“Can you wait to tell me tomorrow? I’d like to get some sleep tonight.”
“I could. But knowing you, you won’t be able to sleep because I didn’t tell you, and then you’ll end up texting me and waking me up to find out and then we’re both not sleeping. So let me tell you now.”
I was freezing, but I wasn’t about to suggest going inside to talk. As if reading my mind, Cooper settled his jacket over my shoulders. It still carried his body heat and I snuggled into it, enjoying the warmth and the faint yet familiar smell of him.
“Fine. Go ahead, then.”
“So, the bad news is that it takes a lot of energy to make something move—much more for multiple objects simultaneously. It takes even more to manifest the image of something leaking from a window or dripping down a wall. The only reason why it stopped is that the entity simply ran out of energy.”
“Why is that bad news?” Cooper asked, his Citadel education dictating his need for a clear and concise answer to a situation that was neither.
“Because,” Beau said, his gaze moving to me, “that means that this is a very powerful spirit. Stronger than anything I’ve ever personally encountered.”
“Great,” I said. “So how am I supposed to get rid of it?”
Beau scratched the back of his head. “Good question. First off, we have to make sure we know who it is, which I think we do, but I’m not going to say his name out loud because I’m not interested in conjuring him right now, regardless of how weak he might be feeling. And then we need to figure out why he’s suddenly here, which may or may not be related to why my grandfather’s back. Otherwise . . .”
“Otherwise?” Cooper prompted.
“Otherwise, I’ll have to figure out a way to confront it directly.”
“You could ask your mother,” I said softly, watching my breath rise in a puff of steam. “She wants to help.”
As if I hadn’t said anything, he moved back toward the front door. “I’ll turn off all the lights and check the windows. You wait here so you can lock the door behind me.”
“I’m coming, too,” Cooper said. “I’ll do the upstairs.”
They both went inside and I stood in the yard, watching as the windows went dark one by one, tracing their progress through the house. When they finally emerged, I locked the door and we moved to the street.
I realized I still clutched the yellow ribbon, and I held it up to show Beau. “Cooper found this behind the oleander bush.”
Beau took it, his eyes widening with recognition. “Where did it come from and how did it get there?”
“Good questions. I think it might be the one I found in the hatbox and that I thought was safely hidden in my apartment. Your mother handed it to Sarah last night.”
His eyes flicked to mine as he gave the ribbon back to me. “You should hide it with the other stuff from the hatbox. Not that hiding anything seems to matter.”
I smoothed the fabric between my fingers. “More important than how it got here is why.”
Beau rubbed his face with both hands. “We’re too tired to think about any of it now.”
He glanced behind us, toward the two vehicles at the curb. “Are you on your way home?”
“Yeah. Cooper said he’d drive me.”
“Why don’t I drive you, since Cooper’s hotel is so close? Your apartment is a lot closer for me.”
“I’m happy to do it,” Cooper said, his voice neutral.
I could feel them both watching me, waiting for an answer that felt a lot weightier than it should have. And a decision that I shouldn’t be so conflicted about.
Avoiding looking at Beau, I said, “If Cooper doesn’t mind, I’ll ride with him. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. And I’m sure Sam’s waiting for you.”
Beau sent me an odd look, then headed toward his truck. “We’ll talk tomorrow. We need to discuss plans for the Esplanade house.” He indicated my cottage. “And what that was all about. Hopefully you can dig up some stuff next weekend.”
After saying our good-byes, Cooper opened the passenger-side door of his car and I slid inside, the leather seats cold beneath me.
“Next weekend?” Cooper asked after he’d sat behind the wheel and started the engine.
“Yeah. About that. Drive slow. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
“Can’t wait,” he said, with no sarcasm and with the enthusiasm for problem-solving I remembered. And had loved.
As Cooper began to drive, I nestled into the seat, not looking back at the house that had chosen me, afraid of what I might see.
CHAPTER 22
Can’t we take the streetcar?” Sarah asked for the third time since we’d pulled out of the driveway. The first time had been after Jolene had shot across the streetcar tracks on St. Charles Avenue, and the second was when evasive action had had to be taken at the appearance of a giant pothole that could possibly be access to Australia.
“Would you prefer that I drive?”
“No, thanks. I think Mom and Dad would prefer me to return home in one piece. But I am supposed to be playing tourist, and it’s hard to see anything when I’m too afraid to open my eyes.”