Feast of Fools by Rachel Caine Read Free Book Online Page B

her in flannel footies? Bunny slippers?’’
    Michael sank into the chair Amelie had vacated, and stared at the chessboard. He slowly reset it, but Claire could tell he wasn’t really thinking about the game. ‘‘Shane,’’ he said. ‘‘Go make sure we’re locked up, would you?’’
    Shane nodded and left, heading straight for the kitchen first. Claire sat across from Michael, in the chair Oliver had occupied. ‘‘You’re worried,’’ she said.
    â€˜â€˜No,’’ Michael said, and picked up the white knight, to turn it over and over in his pale fingers. ‘‘I’m scared. If this guy’s got Amelie and Oliver nervous, we’re way out of our league. Morganville is way out of its league.’’
    He looked up at Eve, who didn’t respond except to press her lips tighter together. Claire heard Shane’s footsteps as he went toward the front door, checked the lock and dead bolt, and then went on to test the windows.
    â€˜â€˜We should get some rest,’’ Michael said. ‘‘Could be a long day tomorrow.’’
    As he got up, Eve’s hand grazed his, just a very light caress, and the two of them locked stares for about a half second.
    â€˜â€˜Yeah,’’ Eve agreed. ‘‘I should rest, too.’’
    Claire threw a stray magazine at her. ‘‘Get a room.’’
    â€˜â€˜Paying for one already,’’ Eve shot back. ‘‘And I’m going to get my money’s worth, too.’’
    She jogged up the stairs, pausing near the top to throw a glance back down toward Michael, who had the most luminous smile on his face. He shook his head, like he couldn’t believe what was going through his mind, and cleared his throat when he saw Claire watching him.
    â€˜â€˜Discreet,’’ Claire said. ‘‘You guys ought to hang a towel on the doorknob or something.’’
    â€˜â€˜Quiet.’’ But Michael was smiling, and when he smiled, her heart just soared. She loved seeing him happy. He was usually so . . . focused. ‘‘If you need anything, you know where to find me.’’
    â€˜â€˜Yeah, you think?’’
    He waved and followed Eve upstairs.
    Shane came back from checking all the ground-floor entry points, and dropped into the chair Michael had vacated. ‘‘Where’d they go?’’
    She pointed straight up.
    â€˜â€˜Oh.’’ He knew, all too well. ‘‘So. Want to play a game?’’
    â€˜â€˜I want to call my parents,’’ Claire said. ‘‘Do you seriously think Amelie let Mr. Bishop stay in their house?’’
    â€˜â€˜I don’t know,’’ he said. ‘‘Call if you think it’ll help.’’
    She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed information; her parents had a new listing, since they’d just arrived in Morganville. While she waited for an answer, Shane reached across the table and took her free hand in his, and the warm touch of his skin made her feel a little less nervous.
    Until her mom answered the phone, at least. ‘‘Claire! I didn’t expect you to call so soon. Are you ready to come home?’’
    She froze for a second, then said, as calmly as possible, ‘‘No, Mom. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Everything all right?’’
    â€˜â€˜Of course everything’s all right. Why wouldn’t it be?’’
    Claire squeezed her eyes shut. ‘‘No reason,’’ she said. ‘‘I just wanted to check in and see how you were settling in. How’s the house?’’
    â€˜â€˜Well, it’s a fixer-upper, you know. Needs some wiring, and an absolute mountain of decorating, but I’m looking forward to that.’’
    â€˜â€˜That’s great. And—so, you don’t have any guests or