Fear Thy Neighbor (44)

“Maybe she knows more than she’s telling you,” Valentina suggested.

“Is this just a thought, or something else?” Ali asked her.

Laughing, Valentina said, “A thought. I’m not always on, if you know what I mean.”

“What does that mean? Am I missing something?” Kit asked.

No one spoke. Ali waved her hand in the air and the waitress returned to the table. “Can we get a refill?” Ali asked.

“Absolutely, sugar,” she said.

She chewed on her lip, something she did when she was nervous. “You’re the reporter—you tell me,” Ali said.

Valentina sighed, then directed her attention to Kit. “You know about me, right?”

“I know lots of things about many people. Is there something in particular I should know about you?” Kit asked.

She let out the breath she’d been holding. “I give readings.”

“You mean the psychic stuff?”

Valentina nodded.

“I’m a reporter, not a mind reader,” he said, grinning. Ali noticed his smile reached his eyes, the corners crinkled from smiling. Or maybe he spent too much time in the sun, searching for bones that didn’t exist. She found him very attractive in a preppy sort of way. She guessed he was a few years older than her, closer to Valentina’s age, though she didn’t know exactly how old her new friend was. It didn’t matter.

“Good thing, because I’m not, either. Just because I’m intuitive, doesn’t mean I know what people are thinking,” said Valentina. “I don’t speak to dead people; I don’t have a crystal ball. All the clichés one associates with a psychic. I connect with most, though not all the time.”

“So, what vibes are you getting from me right now?” Kit asked.

Valentina laughed. “You’re serious?”

Ali watched the two of them. Was there an attraction between them? Her stomach knotted at the thought. Valentina was acting different. Almost defiant, as though she had to defend her abilities.

“I am very serious,” Kit said.

“I’m not getting any ‘vibes,’ or whatever you’d like to call them, coming from you. I assume if you want a reading, you’ll find me and make an appointment like everyone does,” she explained none too nicely.

“Sorry, but I had to ask. Back to the bones. You don’t remember anything about an investigation then? Five or six years isn’t that long ago.”

“Just that bones were found, supposedly of a young girl. I did my best to keep Renée away from any news and folks that like to gossip. She was so young that I didn’t want her knowing these things had happened. But she knew something was up. She’s always been nosy.”

The waitress brought them fresh glasses of iced tea and removed the empty ones. “Y’all want to order somethin’ now? We’ve got baby back ribs on special this evening. Early bird starts at three.”

“Give us a minute,” Kit said, giving the waitress a smile.

“Sure thing, sweetie,” she said, then winked at him before departing.

“Would you all like an early dinner? My treat,” Kit offered.

“Maybe another time,” Valentina told him. “I have plans.”

“Ali, would you have dinner with me sometime in the future? Tonight? Not a business dinner,” he added, his green eyes sparkling like emeralds.

Taken aback by his unexpected invitation, it took her a few seconds to form a sentence. “Maybe another time. I want to spend tonight prepping a few things at the cottage.” She was tempted to ask if he wanted to help them out tonight and then come to dinner with her, Valentina, and Renée, but thought better of it.

“Sure, the new place and all, I get that. Maybe when you have it all fixed up, you’ll invite me over.”

Kit’s words caused her heart to hammer so fast she was sure he could see the veins in her neck pulsing.

“Maybe.” It was all she could commit to at this point. Reporter or not, she really didn’t know him. He could be lying. Anyone could print out a business card these days. Maybe she would call the paper in Miami. Would a Pulitzer Prize–winning reporter be driving an ugly gray sedan?

“I’m staying in Naples with my brother. Do you think I could have a look around your property sometime? Maybe tomorrow? I promise not to get in the way.”

“If the sheriff’s deputies have finished up, I don’t see why not,” she told him, knowing as soon as she was out of his sight, she would be calling Miami. After what she’d learned in the past forty-eight hours about “the yellow cottage,” she was not going to allow her home to become known as the place where bones were found and have onlookers gawking around. She’d made the decision to stay in Palmetto Island because the beach was quiet.

She planned to keep it that way.





Chapter Ten


“I think Mr. Moore has a crush on you,” Valentina said to Ali as they headed to the dollar store.

Ali laughed. “He isn’t too hard on the eyes, that’s for sure.” Maybe she liked him a little more than she should, given the fact they’d just met. It would be her luck to find out he really was a stalker. Telling her he was a reporter could be a ruse just so she would let her guard down.