The Dead Guy Next Door, page 44
“The Knight of Wands,” Riley said to Nick.
“Mmm. Uh-huh,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulder.
“It means action and adventure and lots of fearlessness,” Blossom supplied. “Now, let’s take a peek at your present. Oooh. The Six of Cups. That’s very nice.”
“Happiness, healing, and familiarity,” Riley explained.
His thumb was distracting her nicely with its little circles on her shoulder. She couldn’t wait to go back upstairs and try out that new bed.
“Now for the future,” Blossom said.
“If she draws the dead guy stabbed full of swords, I’m out,” he joked in a whisper.
“Don’t be silly, Nick. I see nothing but happiness and adventure in your fut—fuck.”
“Mom!”
But Blossom was staring down at the card she’d just flipped. “It’s the Tower. The major arcana card known as chaos.”
“Eh, better than the dead guy, right?” Nick said, peering at the card.
It was a card of upheaval and destruction, as illustrated by the stone tower collapsing in a shower of fire and sparks into a dark river.
Riley did not have a good feeling about this.
Roger hit a two-handed cacophony of sharps and flats on the organ, and not one second later, the doorbell rang.
“Uh-oh.” Riley and Blossom stared wide-eyed at each other.
“Oh no. She wouldn’t have come without calling first,” Blossom said, shaking her head back and forth.
“She can’t be here,” Riley hissed.
“Didn’t you sense her coming?” Blossom asked.
“Nick made me shut up my spirit guides so he could surprise me!”
“Well, that was a stupid thing to do,” her mother complained.
“What? Who?” Roger asked.
“What’s going on?” Nick asked, standing up to face the unknown threat.
The front door swung open on its own, and a tall woman with ramrod posture and a pinched frown swirled into the foyer. She was dressed in head-to-toe black in flowing layers. Her lipstick was a dark purple on a tight mouth bookended with deep lines. She had bird feathers tucked into her short silver hair.
Everyone in the room came to their feet.
“One would think that one’s family would have prepared a proper greeting,” she announced coolly.
Blossom picked up her tumbler and knocked back four fingers of bourbon in one gulp.
“Who the hell is that?” Nick whispered out of the side of his mouth.
“Trouble,” Riley whispered back.
“Mom!” Blossom said, gasping out bourbon fumes. “I’m so happy to see you.”
“No, you’re not,” Riley’s grandmother snapped.
Riley heard a gasp. “Elanora!” Gabe dropped his bowl of ice cream at the woman’s feet. Burt galloped over and started hoovering up the dairy.
“Great. He’ll be farting for days,” Nick groaned.
“I see you’ve managed to corrupt my star student, Riley,” Elanora announced with derision.
“Hi, Grandma,” Riley said, giving the woman a little wave and feeling like she was eight years old all over again.
“What are you doing here, Mom?” Blossom asked.
“I’m here on behalf of the guild to fix the recent unfortunate publicity surrounding Riley’s…” She trailed off, gaze skimming over Nick. “Gifts.”
“Oh boy,” Riley breathed.
“Not good?” Nick asked.
“Very not good.”
“You staying at a hotel, Elanora?” Roger asked hopefully from the organ stool.
Apparently that was a preposterous suggestion. “I am not,” she scoffed. “I will be staying with my daughter.”
“Oh. Good,” Roger said with zero enthusiasm.
“Yay,” Blossom said weakly.
“Gabriel, now that I am here, I will expect you to resume your commitment to your holistic studies,” Elanora announced.
“Yes, of course, Elanora,” Gabe said with his head bowed. “I would be honored.”
“I think that Tower card just made its play,” Nick whispered to Riley.
“Yeah, I guess things couldn’t get much worse.”
It was such a stupid thing to say.
The universe must have agreed, because the doorbell rang again.
No one moved.
“This is the last time I ever give my spirit guides the day off,” Riley muttered.
“I’ll never surprise you again,” Nick promised.
“I’ll get it,” Fred sang. He danced down the hallway, avoiding spilled ice cream and lapping dog and disapproving grandmother.
He opened the door with a flourish that had his toupee billowing up off his scalp before settling back down.
“Uh-oh,” Riley said.
Detective Kellen Weber walked into the parlor. “I hope this isn’t a bad time,” he said, eyes locking on Riley.
“Define bad,” Nick said.
Riley elbowed him in the gut. “What can we do for you, Detective?”
“I need your help on a case.”
Ready for more adventures with Riley, Nick, and the gang?
Get ready to laugh your way through Riley Thorn & the Corpse in the Closet.
AUTHOR’S NOTE TO THE READER
Dear Reader,
This story has been with me since before I wrote Pretend You’re Mine, so quite the long-ass time. I don’t know when I decided to make Riley psychic, but I do remember when I had the idea for the book.
When Mr. Lucy and I first started dating, he was working as an investigator for a PI and took me along to a junkyard to retrieve personal possessions from a wrecked car. He sure knows how to show a lady a good time!
So thanks, Mr. Lucy, for that romantic trip to the junkyard, because without you, Riley Thorn would never have existed. I hope you loved Riley and Nick and Gabe and Mrs. Penny because there is more to come!
In the meantime, feel free to shower me with accolades in a review or tell thirty of your closest reader buddies that you have the book for them! And then tell them that book is this book…in case I was being too subtle. Which usually never happens. Thanks for reading! You look lovely today!
Xoxo,
Lucy
WONDERING WHAT TO READ NEXT?:
Want more small-town romantic comedy?
Check out my Blue Moon series and fall for laughs, steam, and hilarious hippies.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lucy Score is a #1 New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author. She grew up in a literary family who insisted that the dinner table was for reading and earned a degree in journalism. She writes full-time from the Pennsylvania home she and Mr. Lucy share with their obnoxious cat, Cleo. When not spending hours crafting heartbreaker heroes and kick-ass heroines, Lucy can be found on the couch, in the kitchen, or at the gym. She hopes to someday write from a sailboat, oceanfront condo, or tropical island with reliable Wi-Fi.
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Website: Lucyscore.com
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always to Mr. Lucy for maintaining the proper ratio of tacos, hugs, and “stop whining and go write.”
To Joyce and Tammy for always keeping me on track with work and showering.
To my Street Team and ARC Team. I don’t deserve you and I hope you never figure that out.
To Kari March Designs for once again delivering a fantastic cover and graphics.
To the editing dream team of Jessica, Amanda, and Dawn.
To the rest of #TeamLucy including Audio Dan, Heather, Rachel, and Marketing Guy Rick. You guys are the best!
To BRAs, you are my happy place.
To you, dearest reader, for picking this book.
To the essential workers and frontline medical staff who kept us alive, fed, and in business during the COVID-19 pandemic.
To rainbows and hot sauce, Peloton rides (@thebigscore) and ice cream sandwiches, to missing out on London and Edinburgh and staying home to write books instead.
To my author friends for reminding me that all good things are hard.
LUCY’S TITLES
Standalone Titles
Undercover Love
Mr. Fixer Upper
The Christmas Fix
Heart of Hope
The Worst Best Man
Rock Bottom Girl
The Price of Scandal
By a Thread
Forever Never
Knockemout Series
Things We Never Got Over
Things We Hide from the Light
Things We Left Behind
Benevolence Series
Pretend You’re Mine
Finally Mine
Protecting What’s Mine
Riley Thorn Series
The Dead Guy Next Door
The Corpse in the Closet
The Blast from the Past
The Body in the Backyard
The Blue Moon Small Town Romance Series
No More Secrets
Fall into Temptation
The Last Second Chance
Not Part of the Plan
Holding on to Chaos
The Fine Art of Faking It
Where It All Began
The Mistletoe Kisser
Bootleg Springs Series
Whiskey Chaser
Sidecar Crush
Moonshine Kiss
Bourbon Bliss
Gin Fling
Highball Rush
Sinner and Saint
Crossing the Line
Breaking the Rules
Lucy Score, The Dead Guy Next Door
