Page 70 of In Her Eyes

I sit up on the couch. “Yes, I’m fine. No fever. Just tired.”

“I thought you’d be napping by now. Did I wake you?”

“No. I was half-asleep, but . . .”

She sits on the couch arm. “But what?”

I shake my head. I don’t want to scare her.

“Come on, tell me. If you don’t, I’ll assume there are ghosts everywhere in here and will start to pack to go back home.”

I try to smile but fail. “No ghosts.” None that I can see, at least. “But I think he’s dumping another body.”

She slides onto the couch and crosses her legs. “How do you know that?”

I squeeze the remote control and accidentally start a show. I stop it. “I heard a voice. Someone told me he’s dumping another body.”

She jumps out of the couch so fast that pillows go flying. She’s halfway across the room before they hit the floor. “You said there were no ghosts!”

“There aren’t. I heard a voice. In my head and that’s it.” Well, technically, I heard with my ears. But that will only freak her out more. “It could have been just a random thought. From all the stress, you know.”

She points at me. Index finger-wagging. Goes into the kitchenette and comes back with a saltshaker.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m doing an exorcism.” She shakes salt all over the room.

And she’s serious about it, too. My shoulders shake with the effort not to laugh. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

She walks a circle around me, saltshaker half empty now. “I’ve watchedSupernatural, and it works. I'm buying some sage, too.”

“Lynn.” I stop her in her second circle around me. Take the shaker from her hand. “Sit down. Relax. Let’s watch a movie. Something light and funny. There are no ghosts here. I swear.”

She gives me the side eye. Then relents and sits down. Grabs the pillows from the floor and arranges them around her like a fort. Then she takes the remote control and turns on the TV.

I stand up and slide my phone into my pocket. “Find something for us to watch. I’ll be right back.”

I walk to the bathroom and close the door. Step into the shower, close the curtains, and text Jake.

Me:I need to talk to you.

I don’t expect an immediate response, but floating dots appear on my screen.

Jake:Is everything OK?

Me:Yes. Let me know when you can talk freely. Maybe we can FaceTime.

Jake:I’ll FaceTime you now.

The phone rings a second later, and I answer it before the sound can alert Lynn.

His face fills the screen. His hair’s in disarray, as if he’s been running his hands through it. “Hey. How’s . . . everything?” I keep my voice low.

He sighs. “It’s a clusterfuck.” His voice is as low as mine.

“What? Why?”

He leans back in his chair. “Someone tipped the press. There were journalists with cameras at the station when I got back. They knew about the body.”

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