Black-Eyed Moon (A Guinan Jones Paranormal Mystery #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

company?"
    I realized I was gripping the phone. I cleared my throat. "Um...sure. Where are you?"
    "At home. Zeke just dropped me off."
    While I waited for Dean, I went inside, washed my face, changed my shirt, brushed my hair, and brought two cold bottles of iced tea outside. I sat on the swing-bench, batted away flies, and thought about the best friends. Zeke and Dean were an odd pair. A few inches shorter than Zeke, Dean was more personable and tended to put me at ease. His laid-back style contrasted with Zeke's rigidity.
    Tamzen used to have a crush on Dean, but when she found out I was crushing on Zeke, she decided she liked Zeke. I was convinced he went out with her to spite me. Or maybe that's what I wanted to believe.
    I watched Dean pull up in his father's blue sedan, climb out, and take lanky strides up the walkway. He smiled, eased himself down on the swing beside me, and opened one of the bottles.
    "I heard that reporter shouting at you," he said, taking a long swig of the tea. " We followed you to the station, thought about coming in, for support."
    "That's sweet, but Granddad wasn't letting anybody see me."
    He wiped his mouth with his thumb. "So, do the dead speak to you?"
    Startled by the question, I picked up my tea and squeezed the cool bottle between my hands. "Zek e hasn't filled in the details?"
    "I don't really ask him questions about you."
    He turned his head so I could look at his eyes. I sensed the honesty and determination behind them.
    "I don't communicate wi th the dead, not the way I think you mean."
    He chuckled. "In a way, you do. It's like they're speaking to you."
    I hadn't thought about it that way.
    "What about the living," he said. "Have you tried to read minds?"
    " No," I said quickly. "And I don't want to. Being able to tell when someone is deceptive is bad enough. I mean, could you handle knowing what somebody really thinks about your new haircut or your favorite outfit? Or maybe they think your head's shaped funny, and you hear things that hurt your feelings."
    I was rambling. Dean was smiling. We sat si lently for a while, drinking tea and rocking on the swing-bench.
    "What about your mother?" he said. "Is she psy...I mean, like you?"
    I shook my head.
    "You shouldn't be embarrassed about what you can do. I know Zeke can be a jerk, but it's just fear based on ignorance."
    "I guess." As long as people didn't call me a witch, I believed I could help people.
    Dean chugged the rest of his tea. "I've heard stories about how the government has these secret paranormal programs. Have you ever heard of the Ranch?"
    I snorted. "I've heard rumors. A place where they train and 'protect' people with psychic powers."
    "You don't believe it exists?"
    I shook my head. Truthfully, I hadn't given it much thought. It certainly didn't sound like somewhere I'd want to be.
    Dean cleared his throat. "Listen, I wanted to ask you—"
    We both looked toward the street. A news van and two cars pulled up at the curb in front of the house. The van had barely stopped when a woman with dark-red hair got out. She wore a light-blue sleeveless blouse, brown slacks, and matching sandals.
    "Guinan Jones?" she called out. "Sara Sparks from Inside Edge. Do you have a minute to answer some questions? You knew the victim, Kate Mansfield, didn't you? Young man, you knew her as well?"
    Dean groaned. "Get lost."
    The woman gave a tittering laugh and flipped her hair. She snapped her fingers at the cameraman emerging from the van, a short guy who wore his Carolina Panthers baseball cap backward. He hoisted a camera on his shoulder and pointed it at us.
    "Ready for your close-up?" Dean said, chuckling.
    Actually, I was ready to throw up.
    "No comment," I said loud enough for her to hear.
    "The rumor is you can communicate with the dead," she said, ignoring my remark and inching up the walkway. "Is that what you claim?"
    "I don't claim anything. And you're trespassing."
    She stopped short, took a few steps back to the sidewalk, and