Free Dead People In Love (Haunted Hearts) by Edie Ramer Page B

woman’s. Not Rose’s. Younger and faster, with a tinkling laugh. The kind that the pretty, flirty girls used.
    The reverberations stopped, the air stilled. As if an invisible person held its breath.  
    Silently groaning, Cassie plopped back onto the chair. Apparently she was going to have to talk to live people with an agenda. She’d much rather talk to the dead—though they usually had an agenda, too.  
    A man followed Rose in, towering above her. Curly red-blond hair topped a good looking guy-next-door face. About six foot two, he wore jeans while a short-sleeved shirt covered a set of shoulders that a linebacker would envy.  
    Nice. Very nice. Cassie’s gaze shifted to the slender woman who quickly stepped next to him. The move saying “This man is mine.” She stood only a few inches shorter than the hunky redhead, her golden-brown hair brushing her shoulders. She wore tan slacks, a cream top and a socialite smile, her makeup tastefully muted. If she were a painting, Cassie thought, she’d be called “A Study in Browns and Creams.”
    “You must be the ghost whisperer,” the woman said, her voice gracious.
    Cassie stood and forced a smile. She wasn’t feeling gracious. Just bitchy.  
    Rose introduced her to her grandson Donovan and his fiancée Olivia.
    “It’s so nice to meet you.” Olivia reached for Cassie’s hand.
    Cassie never felt comfortable shaking hands, but it was expected so she put out her hand. Making eye contact, Olivia held on for an extra couple of seconds. As if she really wanted to make a connection. Smiling as if she meant it.
    Cassie didn’t return the smile. The last woman who seemed that happy to meet Cassie had ended up attempting to kill her.
    Olivia finally released her and bestowed her smile on Rose. “I hope you don’t mind us joining you.”
    Rose glared at her grandson. “I’ll get more tea.”
    “I’ll get the tea,” Donovan said.
    “You’ve helped enough. I can carry in the refreshments without any help from you.”
    “Grandma.” He brought up his hands in a pleading gesture. “Don’t be that way.”
    Her voice rose to a querulous edge. “I’m still capable of carrying a pot of tea.”
    She tottered off, though from her stiff back Cassie was certain that she wished she were young enough to stomp like a rebellious teen.
    Cassie often had the same feeling.
    “Oh, honey.” Olivia curved her hand over Donovan’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry she’s taking it this way.”
    He stared at the wall the way men did when they didn’t want to show emotion. “We’ve gotta do what’s best for her, even if she hates it.”
    “I know.” Olivia’s voice dripped with caring and she tugged at him, making him look at her. “It was the same thing with my granny. She was so childlike at the end.”
    Cassie felt as if she were watching a play put on for her benefit. If so, they’d picked the wrong audience.
    Donovan hugged Olivia briefly before turning his attention to Cassie. “Did you see the ghost?”
    “I’ve only been here a few minutes.”  
    “If there isn’t a ghost, we understand,” Olivia said in a voice like butter. “Donovan visits Rose often and he hasn’t once seen a ghost.”
    “That doesn’t mean she’s senile.” Donovan half turned to his fiancée. “She told me about the ghost when I was young and she was as sharp as my crosscut saw. After my grandfather died, she supported herself and my father with her own stock picks.”
    “Honey, didn’t you tell me you thought she was joking about the ghost? But now...” She shook her head. “The things she’s saying about your grandfather and the ghost...”
      Cassie blinked but kept her mouth shut. Finally this was getting interesting. Donovan glanced at her, and she tried to make her expression blank. As if she weren’t committing every word they said to memory.
    He took his arm from Olivia’s shoulder. “She’ll have to know.”
    “Then let your grandmother tell her,” Olivia