“Why?” I rose and reached across the table to touch her forehead. “I can’t feel a temperature or anything, so you’re not sick.”
She laughed and knocked my hand away. “I really do like him, but I just don’t want to be jumping into anything feet first. This time around, I want to be friends first, bedmates later.”
Suggesting that despite her protestations, her split with Zak had affected her more than she’d let on. “I still can’t remember seeing him in the café.”
“Think six-five, dark hair, neat beard, and the most amazing green eyes you’ve ever seen.”
I clicked my fingers. “The French-sounding guy with the sexy voice.”
“The very one.” She grinned. “I think that man could make me come just by reading the newspaper out loud.”
“Experience talking there, I take it?”
She grinned again but didn't elaborate. “I’ll probably see him at the gym again tomorrow night, so I’ll ask him then.”
“Good.” I pushed away my plate and picked up my coffee. “Of course, the other major problem is the two damn spirits.”
“Yes.” Belle wrinkled her nose. “There must be some way to stop them outside ensnaring and banishing them with a spell.”
“If there is, there’s apparently no damn record of it.”
“That anyone has uncovered thus far. Doesn’t mean it’s not there, just that it’s kept in some obscure manual or note.”
“Very obscure.” I drank some coffee and shuddered a little at the taste. I’d forgotten to put sugar in it. “You know, Ashworth suggested we store the soucouyant’s skin in brine to counter any attempt by her to regain it, which makes me wonder if it would also be a good weapon against her.”
“Possibly,” Belle said. “Salt’s been used to both purify and sanctify places—and ward off evil—for eons.”
“And if we combine it with holy water, we might just have a workable weapon.”
“One that will at least weaken them even if it doesn’t kill them.” She clicked her coffee cup against mine. “Good thinking there, Sherlock.”
“I think Sherlock would be highly offended by your gifting his name to an investigator as amateurish and haphazard as me.” I stirred sugar into my coffee and took another sip. “We’ll need a quick and easy means of applying the brine—”
“Water pistols,” Belle said. “Easy to get and easy to use.”
“I’m not sure a water pistol will hold enough water to damage a fire spirit.”
“A Super Soaker, then.” She paused. “Of course, there’s also the problem of acquiring enough holy water to fill it.”
“It might be worth talking to the local priest—if we explain the situation, he might be willing to bless a large amount.”
“Worth a shot.” She glanced at her watch and then downed the rest of her coffee. “If I go out early, I can be back before the brigade gets here.”
“You might as well go talk to the priest while you’re out. Penny and I will be able to handle things even if there is a rush.” Belle had certainly held the fort down often enough—time for me to carry some of the load for a change.
“Great.” She bounced up. “I’ll go get ready.”
I nodded and finished my coffee, then cleared the plates and got everything ready for the day’s trade.
We were busy from the get-go, but Belle was back by the time the brigade came in. Mrs. Potts tried a number of times to question me not only about the murder of her neighbor but how my relationship with Aiden was going. I didn’t give her much on either, but couldn’t get angry at her nosiness. Not when she actually had my best interests at heart—at least when it came to my relationship with the ranger.
Aiden came in just as we’d finished cleaning up for the day. He tugged me into his arms and kissed me with all the hunger and desire a woman could want, then pulled back and licked his lips. “You’ve been eating brownie.”
“I was just taste-testing the latest batch.”
“Meaning I’ve timed my arrival just right?”
“It would appear so.” Belle came out of the kitchen carrying a plate of brownie slices. “Would you like a coffee to go with it?”