She continues to stare at me, dumbfounded. “That…none of this makes any sense.”
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t get the impression he was lying or trying to fuck us over. I don’t know, I’m sure you can get a better read on him and find out the truth, but I have to say, I think he’s damn serious.”
“It’s a trap.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know. Why would anyone have that much money to give?”
“I don’t think it really matters.”
“Well, what does he do?”
“He’s an accountant.”
She laughs in disbelief. “An accountant? What does he do, launder money for a drug cartel? This isn’t Ozark.”
“Maybe he does. Either way, it’s a hundred fucking grand. This would change our whole life, Perry.”
Her jaw tenses and she straightens up, leaning on the counter. “You’re seriously considering this?”
“You’re seriously not?” I throw my hands out. “Do you not realize what that money can do for us?”
“Do you not realize that this could destroy us?!” Her voice is high, shrill, and there’s fear washing over her, radiating outward like a tidal wave.
Fuck.
“Baby,” I say to her quietly, feeling every cell inside me soften. I go over around the island and grab her hands, holding them up and pressing them against my chest. “Talk to me. Talk me through this. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Why do you even have to ask?” she says softly.
“Because that’s how we communicate. Please don’t expect me to read your mind, because I can’t.”
“You’re asking me to step into that world again.”
“I’m not asking anything of you yet, just to listen, just to consider it.”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
Her words slice me. Usually Perry is pretty even keeled, except when she’s PMSing (and I know better than to ever admit that out loud to her), but for the past few weeks she’s been on edge. I’ve been waiting for her to tell me and talk to me about it, but I suppose that’s a conversation for another time.
“Explain,” I say patiently.
She shakes her head and I know she’s about to pull away, but I press her hands against me tighter. She’s not going anywhere, and she knows it.
“Things have been pretty good, haven’t they?” she asks, her eyes searching mine. “It’s been three years and six months since I lost my mother, and every day is a new step forward, walking out of those ashes. I’m married to my best friend, whom I am still deeply in love with, we have a successful company. We have good friends in a city that’s been good to us. My father finally seems to be…moving on. Or he’s at least trying to. My sister…” she trails off and shakes her head, blinking. “Well, that just proves my point doesn’t it? We’re doing okay only because we left the fucked-up paranormal world behind.”
“This isn’t EIT,” I tell her. “This is something else entirely. You told me that you’d one day want to talk to ghosts instead of screaming and running from them.”
“No,” she says, taking her hands away and putting them on her hips, her saucy Italian side coming out. “You said that we could become paranormal investigators like the Warrens. That was never my idea. And I believe I said I’d file it as a to-do in five years. It’s been three.”
“But what’s the harm in doing it once?”
Her eyes nearly bug-out. “What’s the harm? Dex, what did I just say? Things have been good because we’re not dealing with the dead. We’re not seeking shit out. Ada’s life is all over the place now that she’s got Jay and can see demons and whatever the fuck. That’s bad enough as it is, do you really want that for us?”
“This would be different. This man is asking us to talk to his dead wife. Don’t you feel for him? Don’t you want to help? You have a gift Perry, why can’t you use it for good?”
“Nice, Dex, you’re trying to guilt me now. Why are you so insistent on this?”
“I’m not, I just want you to look at our options. This is a good opportunity.”
Her eyes narrow at me for a moment. “You know who you sound like right now?”
I stare at her. “Who?”
“You. The Dex from day one, when I ran into you in that lighthouse. That’s who you sound like. Opportunistic, not giving a shit why I’m putting my foot down, forever forcing me to do something I don’t want to do, something I know is a bad idea.”
I cock my head as I stare at her, my pulse picking up in my throat. “Are we fighting here?”
“Maybe,” she says with a sigh, running her hand down her face. “Look, I get that it’s a lot of money, but there’s just too much risk.”
“You won’t even think about it?”
She turns and walks over to the window, passing by our Frenchie, Fat Rabbit, who is sleeping on the couch. The fat pooch sleeps through everything, and since our personalities have always been combative, the dog is used to this kind of shit with us. Okay, maybe it’s not fair to say we’re both combative. I’m usually the problem and I’ve gotten pretty good at pushing her buttons…in more ways than one.
Perry exhales and leans against the windowsill, staring out at the Seattle skyline as it grows darker and darker with the coming evening.
I follow her. I know I should give her a lot of space, especially when she’s been so prickly and emotional lately, but, like I said, button-pusher.
“Baby,” I tell her softly, placing my hands on her shoulders. “We could do so much. We could sell this place, buy a house. A real proper house where there isn’t a monorail chugging past us all day long, where there’s a yard for Fat Rabbit. We can finally get another dog, the fat gray pit bull you want to adopt. Remember? You want to call it Lil Hippo. Lil Hippo and Fatty Rab can run around the yard. We can have peace and space and…” I want to tell her we could have space for a baby, but that’s a topic we don’t discuss anymore. “We could have enough for a house on the Sound. We could revitalize the business.”
I could film my documentary…
I feel her relaxing under my palms. “It really would fix a lot of problems, wouldn’t it?”
“I just want you to think about it,” I tell her softly, kissing the back of her head, breathing in the tropical-scent of her shampoo, a smell that feels like home to me. “I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’m not that guy anymore.”
She lets out a light snort. “That guy is still in you, Dex. Maybe a little older now, a little more subdued. And, really, you never forced me to do anything. It’s just that you’re extremely persuasive.”
“I’d say my dick drives a hard bargain, but that was before I was screwing you.”
She leans back against my hands, sighing. “That it does.” She turns her head to glance up at me over her shoulder. “I’ll think about it. But no promises.”
Chapter 2