Get a Clue

she nearly fell over. 'How do you do that?' she demanded.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. 'I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.'

He was just kidding. Probably.

'Bad joke,' he said.

'Really bad.' She put a hand to her chest, wondering if the butler had a side career going-murdering obnoxious managers and equally obnoxious guests.

Shelly came up behind Dante and smiled. 'Hey. You okay?'

Breanne nodded at her new friend. And Shelly had become a friend. She wouldn't fall for a man who could-who would-

No. No, she wouldn't.

But how to explain the bloody gloves beneath Dante's bed? Or the bloody towel in Shelly's kitchen? 'I just thought I'd try to get something to eat.'

'No problem,' Shelly said. 'I'll bring you something to the great room? Or maybe the library? Where will you be?'

Breanne didn't feel comfortable going anywhere alone- she was afraid of what else she'd find. Before she could work up a good panic over that thought, Cooper came down the stairs and stood at her side, settling a big, warm hand on the small of her spine.

Such a small gesture, really, and yet… yet it meant so much.

'What's the snow situation?' Cooper asked Dante.

'We're about halfway. We could be out in a few more hours.'

'Just in time for nightfall,' Cooper said, sounding resigned.

Dante nodded.

'Could you find your way to town in the dark?' Cooper asked him.

'It'd be a suicide run. Frigid temps, bears…'

'Bears?' Breanne didn't like the sound of this. 'I don't want anyone to be out there with the bears.'

'And believe me, no one wants to be,' Dante told her, the big, tough guy letting out a shiver.

'If we kept moving-' Coopet started.

'I'd rather walk the streets of my gang-infested childhood than snowmobile through the woods tonight.'

Cooper sighed. 'So we all stay another night.'

'Another night,' Dante agreed.

Shelly bit her lower lip, and Dante set his hand on her shoulder. 'It's going to be okay,' he said.

Cooper nodded.

Breanne only hoped they were right.

***

Everyone met in the great room and snacked on whatever Shelly was able to drum up. Stranded as they were, the lines between staff and guest and wrongly booked guest had blurred.

Or maybe that was because of the unintentional bonding that had occurred when they'd all found themselves staring at a dead body.

Breanne didn't know, but she liked having everyone in the same place, where she knew that no one was off getting… well, offed.

Despite the relaxation of duties, in some ways, their positions here in the house still very much defined them. Shelly rushed to serve everyone. Dante handled the fire. Lariana kept straightening things up in the already perfectly straightened room. Patrick didn't do much, but he kept his tool belt on and creaked when he walked.

'We really need a new generator,' he said to no one in particular.

'Maybe it's operator error,' Dante suggested.

'Bugger off.'

Dante laughed. 'Come on. We all know you hate being the fix-it guy. The wicked witch is dead, dude. Do something else now.'

'Like…?'

'Like what really gets you going,' Dante said, as if this was the easiest thing in the world to decide. 'How about your painting stuff?'

Patrick looked over at Lariana, who smiled. 'Told ya,' she said softly. 'Do it, Patrick. Go for your dreams. Show your paintings.'

'It was you,' Cooper said to Patrick. 'You painted that saw blade. The one that went up the day we found Edward.'

'I hung it,' Lariana said. 'Patrick didn't want me to, but I think the guests that come here would love to see what he can do. Sunshine doesn't have any galleries because it's not a touristy type of place, but just a little bit south of here, closer to Lake Tahoe, there are tons of shops all around the lake where he could show his work. Should show it.'

Patrick lifted a shoulder. 'Maybe.'

'You're good, Patrick,' Shelly told him. 'And your idea of painting on antique tools is unique. You really should go for it.'

Patrick clinked his way to the fire, hunkering before it to jam the poker into the red-hot coals, stirring up the fire with a bit more strength than necessary.

'He's dead, Patrick,' Lariana said to his ramrod-straight spine. 'No more worrying.'

'Worrying about what?' Cooper asked.

No one answered.

'Come on.' Cooper looked at them. 'You're going to hold back now?'

Shelly and Lariana gave each other a long look.

Patrick stabbed at the fire again, making sparks leap and jump.

Dante remained broodingly silent.

Cooper shook his head in disgust.

'You know what?' Shelly surged to her feet. 'It's late. And I'm really tired.' She didn't look at any of them as she moved to the door. ''Night.'

Lariana shot Dante a worried look, then started to follow, but Dante stopped her. 'I'll go,' he murmured.

Lariana nodded, then pulled him in for a hug. When he was gone, she said, 'It is late, and we're all overtired. Patrick?'

Seeming surprised to be so publicly summoned, he jerked to his feet and moved to the door with her, looking for all the world like an eager puppy.

'Call if you need anything,' Lariana said to Breanne and Cooper.

When it was just the two of them, Cooper looked at the empty doorway. 'That was fun.' He stood up and held out a hand to Breanne. 'Come on. There's even more fun to be had.'

Her heart stopped. Parts tingled. 'What kind of fun?'

'Everyone's going to sleep. Everyone but us.'

The thought of 'us' made her stomach sort of tremble, but not in a bad way. Oh God, she was getting used to the word us.

When had that happened?

Everything had been so simple a week ago. Sure, she'd been in an engagement that had been just a joke, but she'd had no major losses. No big disappointment-Well, maybe a few.

But she could have lived with them, because she'd never seen a dead body, she'd never lived in a haunted house, she'd never feared for her very life.

Now she knew what all those things felt like, as well as true, gut-wrenching fear for another person she truly cared about. Maybe staying one more night wasn't the end of the world. She could use it to show him how much she cared.