October Ghosts (A Southern Romance Monthly) Read Online Free Page A

just…it doesn't smell right."  
    "Right now, Margo, the only thing I can smell is vanilla." He turned and headed up the stairs to apartment 203.  
    Margo was right behind him. She had the one bedroom across from him. "Why do you smell vanilla?" She sniffed when he stopped at his door and looked for the key on his ring. "Why do you smell like vanilla?"
    "Chloe was burning candles. You know," he said as he shoved the key in the lock and turned it. "Healing and calming stuff."  
    Margo laughed. "Like your mom does."  
    "Uh huh. A lot like mom." Matt opened the door, stuck his hand in and turned the light on before he stepped in. A part of him half expected to find another of those hanging witches in his living area. But no…the only thing greeting him were boxes of shipped equipment, an open suitcase with his clothing piled inside, and the smell of stale Chinese food.  
    Once inside, he tossed his keys on the mantel of the small fireplace and set his bag down. Margo followed him in and shut the door. "You like her."  
    Matt's brain was a bit fuzzy from being tired, but he understood what Margo was getting at. "I think I was judging her on stereo types. I mean, you and I've worked with a shit-load of psychic fakes and flakes for a long time. Why should this one be any different?"  
    Margo moved past him to the fridge and grabbed two Rolling Rock beers from the door. She opened one and handed it to him. When he shook his head, she put the unopened one back and drank half of the open one. "You're saying this one's real because she's nice to look at?"  
    He nodded absently. "Yeah…she is that. And she doesn't feel…" he paused a few seconds before he shrugged. "I don't know. She doesn't feel fake. There's no ego between her and the rest of the world. Which is why I think that effigy scared the hell out of her."  
    "Did it threaten her?"  
    Matt yawned and rubbed at his eyes. "Can't say. Sheriff Harhmon told me to keep things quiet while they investigate. You know, keep things hidden from the press. His deputy took a few pictures and promised to have an article in the local paper in the morning." He checked his watch. It'd stopped. He shook it on his wrist and glared at it. "Or later this morning. My watch stopped."  
    "Maybe it's your psychic." Margo finished the beer and tossed it into a recycle bin. "So did you get her to sign on?"  
    Matt hung his head. "No. I completely forgot about the house. Dammit. I'll…I'll call her later and see if she'll reconsider. Though I'm not sure I really want her too."  
    "Why not?"  
    "Well, part of our whole schtick is to disprove this crap. Prove that ghosts and demons and all that crap doesn't exist. That means making fun of her and making her look like a fool. And given the respect I saw with the Sheriff and Deputy tonight—I'm not sure that's a good way to go. Chloe's a town favorite and if we try and trash her reputation, we might end up on the pointy end of a mob." Not to mention, he didn't want to do it for personal reasons.  
    He really liked her.  
    "You're serious?" Margo folded her muscular arms over her chest. " You ? You're afraid of making a psychic look bad? The guy that destroyed the reputation of the Lauraville Ghost Whisperer?"  
    Matt rubbed at his forehead. He wanted a shower. He wanted a pillow. And he wanted Margo to leave. He'd known her so long, just telling her to get out shouldn't worry him.  
    But now it did. And he didn't know why. "And she sued."  
    "That's not the point I'm trying to make."  
    He ran his fingers through his hair. "Margo, I want to go to bed."  
    She approached him and put her arms around him. He leaned into her embrace and inhaled her perfume. It was always there. Musky and sometimes a turn on.  
    Margo kissed the top of his head. "Go to bed. I'll wake you about ten if you're not already up and maybe you can get Chloe Stohl to agree. We start setting up tomorrow afternoon and the test run is tomorrow night. Then it's