Read Online Linda Welch - A conspiracy of Demons by A Conspiracy of Demons - Free Book Online Page A

could put someone in there , an unseen interloper, a listening ear, a hidden eye .
    Could I? Should I? No, I should not. Definitely not. No, no, NO, Tiff.
    I pulled in a shallow breath and faced Royal . “About that.”
    His eyeb rows drew together. “You a re about to tell me something I will not like.”
    I moved away and sat on the edge of the unmade bed. “Do you remember Carrie?”
    “Carrie? No. Should I?”
    “Carrie in England?” I plucked at my rumpled duvet. “The Hart and Garter Carrie who followed us everywhere ?”
    His eyebrows almost met above his nose now. “Ah, that Carrie.” He pushed his hands in his hip pockets. “ What about her?”
    “She’s here.”
    “Here?”
    “Downstairs.”
    He pulled his hands free and sat on the desk chair. “How?”
    I began to lose patience. “S he can go where she wants , remember? She decided to come to the States .”
    Definitely a scowl on his face . “How long has she been here?”
    “I found her outside this morning.”
    “And she will follow us wherever we go.” He looked a t the room . “Is she in here?”
    Shoulders tight , I flipped my hands palm out. “ She won’t. She’s behaving herself , giving me space .”
    His gaze swooped around as if he thought he’d spot her . “So you have three of them now.”
    “She’s visiting, said she’ll leave tomorrow. ” I twin ed my fingers together. “But if she agrees to stay a little longer, we could maybe use her.”
    “ Use her how?”
    My mouth twisted. “ We can plant her at Provo PD.”
    “You asked her t o help while we were in England, ” h e retorted obstinately. He pushed back in the chair. “As I recall, she gave us nothing worthwhile.”
    “ My fault . I didn’t brief her properly on what we wanted.” I leaned over my knees. “If I give her specific instructions, we can take her to Provo tomorrow on the pretext of bugging them for information, leave her there and pick her up the next day.”
    “You cannot trust this to a ghost.”
    My breath burst out as a tiny puh ! “ Yeah ? How many shades have we trusted to solv e an investigation? Tell me , because I’ve lost count.”
    He stared at me for a moment, then his shoulders set in hard lines . “What time do you want to leave tomorrow?”
    “I thought eight , if she agrees to do it .”
    He rose up. “Do you want to drive, or shall I?”
    “ Whatever .” I stood.
    “I have things to do.” He went to the door. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
    And off he went .
    Deflated, I sat on the bed again. Why did he act like this? T he shades who helped us provided an invaluable service and he knew it, yet at the same time he hated my relationship with them, especially with Jack and Mel. And now Carrie.
     
    I decided to eat before talking to Carrie. Having spent years in the Hart and Garter Inn, their kitchen and restaurant, and eating establishments in other parts of the world, I didn’t think my cooking supper would entertain Carrie. But she stood with Jack and Mel as I got a frozen chicken pot pie from the freezer, slit the top crust with a sharp knife and put it in the microwave.
    “How long does it take?” Carrie asked. “Is it any good?”
    Head ti l t ed up hopefully, Mac sat by my ankles.
    “About eight minutes. Yeah, it’s good.”
    She bent over the carton. “Chicken Pot Pie. Why is it called a pot pie? It’s not in a pot , unless you call the little foil thing a pot . ”
    “ They p ossibly were originally in iron pots , ” Mel said. “But some food historians think the pastry wasn’t meant to be eaten. It was a very thick container for the filling, meant to preserve it for quite a long time.”
    My, she sounded pompous. “Really?” I said.
    “Yes. Or people lined po ts or skillets with pastry so food didn’t taste metallic.” She averted her face . “I’m not as stupid as you think.”
    “I don’t think you’re stupid, ” I protested. Scatterbrained, yes.
    “She heard it on T he History