Page 22 of Speak of the Devil

They went back to the office so Delia could put together the paperwork. On the drive over, she’d suggested an offer of $475,000, which sounded fine to Caleb. If the current owners were desperate enough, they’d take it. Otherwise, he was fine with some back and forth.

“And now we wait,” she said after the files had been sent off to the listing agent. “It’s late on a Friday afternoon, though, so we might not hear back for a bit.”

He was okay with that. After all, he’d mostly manufactured this quest to buy an income property to get closer to Delia Dunne and learn a little bit more about what made her tick, so waiting to hear whether the offer had been accepted was no big deal. True, he’d had to step in to protect her during the banishing, but he had no doubt that if they’d been dealing with an ordinary spirit and not a sex-crazed serial killer, then she could have managed on her own just fine.

“That’s all right,” he replied, then paused. This was the time when he should thank her for her help, say goodbye, and head home.

But it was Friday night, and he didn’t want to sit in his house by himself yet again. Sure, he could have headed to the casinos, but he thought a much more interesting challenge stood in front of him now.

“How about I take you to dinner to celebrate?” he asked.

A flicker of doubt showed in her eyes. Then she smiled and said, “Don’t you think we should hold off on the celebrating until we know whether the sellers have accepted your offer?”

Caleb only shrugged. “Let’s just say I have a good feeling.”

Delia’s lips parted — possibly to tell him it was a little early to have a good feeling about anything — but then her phone, which was sitting on her desk, let out a softbingto let her know she had a new text message.

She scooped it up, looked down at the screen, and offered him a smile of her own. “You must be psychic. That was the listing agent letting me know the sellers have accepted our offer. Their only stipulation is that it has to be an as-is sale with no inspections, but I assume you’re all right with that?”

More than all right. Honestly, Caleb didn’t see how a home inspector could have even done much with the place, considering its current condition.

“That’s fine,” he said, and she gave him a nod before sending off a quick text. A moment later, her phonebingedagain.

“They’ll sign off on the offer tomorrow morning,” she told him. “On Monday, you’ll need to get proof of funds from your bank, but I assume that won’t be a problem?”

“None at all,” he assured her. Probably the biggest issue would be deciding which accounts he wanted to empty, but he had the weekend to figure that out.

And to collect some more winnings at the casinos to replace what he was spending on the house, although he wasn’t about to mention that particular detail to her.

“So I guess we have something to celebrate after all,” he added, and Delia’s expression turned almost too neutral.

“That’s very kind of you, Caleb, but — ”

“But what?” he broke in. “It’s getting toward dinnertime, and we should eat. Unless you have plans, of course,” he added.

He didn’t think she did, but he figured he should offer her that way to decline his invitation, just in case.

For a second or two, she didn’t reply. Then she shook her head.

“No plans. Well, unless you count hanging out with the fish and nuking leftovers.”

“‘Fish’?” he repeated, and this time she smiled — an expression that looked completely genuine.

“With the hours I work, having a dog or a cat didn’t seem like a very good idea. But the fish don’t seem to mind that I’m gone most of the day, and when I’m home, at least it feels as if I have someone there to keep me company.”

Her existence sounded almost as lonely as his. But no, she was on her home turf here, and presumably had family and friends she could spend time with when she wanted to. After a long day, though, she probably just wanted to head home and put her feet up most of the time.

“And the fish won’t mind that you didn’t go straight home after work?”

Now she grinned. “I think they’ll survive.”

Chapter Eight

He tookher to Battista’s Hole in the Wall, an Italian restaurant that Delia and her family had often visited when she was growing up but which she hadn’t been to for a while. She was a little surprised that Caleb knew about the place, since it was kind of off the beaten track.

Then again, internet searches pretty much ensured that anyone could find even the most obscure dining spots.

Because it was still early — they arrived at Battista’s at about a quarter after six — they were given a nice booth off in a corner. If this had been a date, Delia would have been glad of the privacy.

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