High Spirits [Spirits 03] by Alice Duncan Read Free Book Online

Lifting my hands (which still trembled, by the way) from my ears and sitting up straighter, I frowned at Sam. “Stop shouting, both of you.” I turned to Harold. “I appreciate the support, Harold, but Sam knows darned good and well that I have to work for a living. He just doesn’t like how I do it.”
           “No more does your husband,” Sam said, shoving the words through his clenched teeth. I’d seen Sam angry lots of times, but boy, I’d never seen him that mad. Unfortunately for my humble self, I couldn’t fault him for his ire that night.
           Harold tried to help again. “Honestly, you’re making a mountain out of a molehill, Detective Rotondo. Daisy was merely performing a séance. Neither of us took a drop of alcohol.”
           If I hadn’t been so upset, I might have found the sight of Sam going through the various stages of fury interesting. I’d noticed before that his olive skin, which wrinkled up as when he pursed his mouth when he got mad at me, made yellowish lines, as opposed to the white lines my own fair skin made when likewise engaged. That night I was too miserable to increase my knowledge of which colors olive-skinned Italians turn when infuriated.
           Sam included both Harold and me in his next glower. “And you think that because you weren’t drinking, that makes visiting an illegal gin joint right?”
           “Oh, stop it! Harold didn’t mean that, and you know it. He meant that the only reason we went there was because of the séance. Harold only went because I was too scared to go alone.”
           The full heat of Sam’s continuing fierce glare focused on me. It would. “And why do you suppose that was?”
           Crumb, it felt as if a boulder had lodged in my throat. I knew I was going to cry pretty soon, and I just hated to show Sam how upset I was. I managed to swallow my lump for the nonce. “Stop being so darned sarcastic. I’m not an idiot, you know. I didn’t want anything to do with those awful people.”
           I was beginning to remind myself of Mrs. Kincaid. That was bad because I knew Mrs. Kincaid to be a fluffy-headed nitwit. If there was anything on earth that could have made me feel lower than I already did, it was that.
           But you did it anyway, Sam said flatly. “How much sense does that show, do you think? Did you give a rap about your family while you were fulfilling Mrs. Kincaid’s wishes?”
           That was it. The tears came spilling out. I felt so stupid. “Yes!” I blubbered. “I knew Billy would hate it! That’s why I didn’t tell him.”
           Harold, bless him for a saint, handed me a clean white handkerchief, and I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. I looked at Sam, wishing I was one of those women whom people feel sorry for when they cry—you know, the fairy-tale princesses of the world who look even more gorgeous than usual when teary-eyed. I’m not. My eyes get red, my complexion gets blotchy, and my nose runs. Not a pretty sight.
           “I never wanted to hurt Billy, Sam Rotondo, and if you don’t know that by this time, you’re an idiot yourself.”
           My pathetic aspect didn’t affect Sam noticeably. He frowned at me for another couple of seconds, then turned to Harold. “Would you mind leaving us alone for a few moments, Mr. Kincaid? I need to talk with Mrs. Majesty.”
           Harold squinted at Sam and then at me. “Daisy?”
           What the heck. Maybe Sam was going to shoot me and put me out of my misery, although I didn’t expect such a happy ending to that awful day. “It’s all right, Harold.”
           Still, Harold hesitated. “Are you sure?” He cast a glance at Sam that I would have resented had it been directed at me. Sam’s hide was tough as an elephant’s, and he didn’t even seem to notice it. His attention was centered on me—and not in a kindly way, either.
           I heaved a