Death by Chocolate (The Davenports 2)

“It looks good.”

“Why don’t I do some poking around while you go about your nightly routine?”

“Are you concerned, or curious about what my pajamas look like?”

Micah snickered. “Can’t I be both?”

“Smart answer. Please make yourself at home. There’s plenty to eat and drink in the kitchen. I won’t be long.”

“Take your time. I cleared the evening for you.”

The sincerity had her heart beating faster. He had an intensity that left her speechless as his eyes bore into her own.

“Thank you.”

“Mhmm.”

He went back to the living room, and she gathered her things and moved into the full bathroom connected to her room. Stripping down, she tossed her clothing into the wicker basket in the corner and turned on the water. Stepping underneath the warm spray, she grabbed her coconut scented body wash, placed it on her pastel blue scrubbing ball, and lathered it up. Washing away the grime of the day, she felt her muscles relax beneath the heated spray.

Feeling clean, she stuck her head beneath the spray and used the Aragon oil infused shampoo. She had her father’s defined curl, but her hair drank conditioner like her mother’s coarse 4C hair pattern. Massaging her scalp, she rotated her shoulders and moved onto the deep conditioner. After she combed through the curls carefully, she gave them a final rinse.

She stilled. Suddenly she didn’t feel alone in the room. Quickly working the conditioner out of her hair, she jerked back when the shower curtain moved inward. The impression of a hand made her scream. The shower curtain shook violently.

“Daize,” Micah yelled over the sound of the running shower, “I’m here.” He jiggled the door she hadn’t locked, and she fumbled with the shower knob. Her slippery hands were clumsy. It took two tries before she could get it right.

“Leave me alone,” she screamed. The curtain stilled. Not waiting for the ghost to strike again, she stumbled out of the basin, grabbed a large, fluffy towel, and wrapped it around her body.

Micah stumbled through the door, righting himself as he gripped her upper arms. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“I saw a hand pushing up against the curtain. I cried out, and the entire curtain started to shake.”

“Jesus,” Micah whispered.

“What?” She spun around and glimpsed the mirror. Written in the condensation was: We wait below.

“Get dressed and pack a few things. You’re not staying here tonight.”

“Then where should I stay?”

“With me. My brother just moved out with his fiancée, so I have a spare room in my condo.”

“I couldn’t impose.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want you there, Daize.”

She clamped her mouth closed. “Give me ten minutes.”

“Make it five.” He glanced around warily as they backed into the bedroom.

“I’ll wait beside the door. Keep it open.”

“Yeah.” The minute he disappeared through the frame, she swiftly towel-dried, threw on a pair of underwear, a bra, and gray sweats with a white T-shirt and a San Diego hoodie. Pulling on socks, she grabbed enough clean clothes for a week, shoved them into an oversized beach tote, and rushed out.

“I’m ready.” She grabbed her purse, bundled up in her peacoat, and followed him out of the house. Remaining silent until they escaped the building, she let out a sigh of relief. “What just happened?”

“Honestly, I have no clue. Nothing happened in the living room. It’s focused on you, and that worries me. We need to do a cleansing ritual and do a more detailed investigation. You can stay with me as long as you need to. But you aren’t going to stay in that house until we figure this out.”

“I’m not going to?” She placed a hand on her hip.