Read Online Blood Moon: A Rowan Gant Investigation by M. R. Sellars - Free Book Online Page A

queasiness that plagued
me earlier had subsided a bit, which was at least some small
consolation. Of course, my appetite certainly hadn’t made haste to
return, so the still untouched breakfast was in a Styrofoam to-go
box resting in the passenger seat of my truck.
    I had no doubt that I was dealing with the
earthly manifestations of someone else’s ethereal torment. That
much was a given in my mind. In fact, despite my initial
objections, I was also more than willing to believe the victim in
Ben’s current investigation was the one assaulting me across the
veil between the worlds of the living and dead. Nonetheless, I was
clinging to my resolve and remained set on ignoring her no matter
how much it hurt. There was just one small problem. Everything my
friend had said about me earlier at the diner rang truer than I
cared to admit. Whenever the dead came to me for help, I always
ended up in trouble. Always . While I couldn’t really blame
him for pointing it out, just thinking about it made my mood as
sour as my stomach.
    After parking my vehicle in the garage next
to Felicity’s Jeep, I let myself in the back door of the house. As
I came into the kitchen from the sunroom, both of our dogs met me
and began snuffling about before finally sitting and looking at me
expectantly. They immediately jumped up and followed along as I
skirted around the island then pulled open the refrigerator door
and started to make room on one of the shelves for the takeout
container I was carrying. After a moment our English setter snorted
a low sigh followed by something that wasn’t quite a bark but was
definitely meant to convey a message. I looked over and found both
of the canines sitting a few feet away, staring at me with
imploring eyes as they quivered in excited expectation.
    “You ate this morning,” I told them. “It
isn’t dinnertime yet.”
    The Australian cattle dog perked his ears and
let out a short yip. The English setter followed with a repeat of
his non-barking dog speak. I stared back at them and sighed.
    All I really wanted to do at the moment was
put the carton away then down a couple of painkillers and relax for
a bit. But, I knew if I was going to insist on ignoring the
ethereal pokes and prods, then I was going to need to learn to
function around them as well. That meant, very simply, I couldn’t
use unexplainable aches and pains as an excuse to eschew my
responsibilities, even though I may want to do exactly that.
    “Yeah, okay…” I mumbled in a tired drone,
abandoning my task and swinging the refrigerator door shut.
    A minute or so later I had the canine’s
dishes up on the island and was still in the middle of dividing the
contents of the container between them when I was verbally
admonished from behind. This time, however, there was no need to
interpret because the scolding was spoken in perfectly
understandable English.
    “You’re spoiling them, you know,” Felicity
said.
    “And you don’t?” I replied without looking up
from my task.
    “That’s not my point,” she returned, a smile
in her voice.
    “Of course it isn’t,” I returned, trying not
to let my foul mood creep into my tone, which was no easy task
since physically I seemed to be entering a steep, downward spiral.
“Besides, Hon, they’re getting old. They’ve earned a few between
meal snacks.”
    She was next to me now and inspecting the
contents of the bowls. “Snack? That looks more like a whole meal to
me.”
    “It kind of is…” I replied. “I wasn’t
hungry.”
    “You aren’t coming down with something, are
you?”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “Are you feeling all right?”
    “Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied with a weak
sigh.
    The blatant lie might have worked had it not
been for the fact that I winced as I said it—not to mention the
fact that my free hand automatically went up to my neck.
    “You sure aren’t acting like it, then,” she
said. “What’s wrong with your neck?”
    “Nothing,” I told her. “I