“No!” But an image formed in her mind. Her face heated and she remembered being in that closet and fondling his butt.

“I was up working on the case until almost four.” He paused. “And maybe thinking about you.” She heard him roll over again.

She closed her eyes and didn’t know what to say to that. So she didn’t say anything.

“What did she say?” he asked.

“What did who say?” she countered, her mind racing, her face still warm.

“The ghost?” he asked.

Good, she needed a change of subject. “That’s the problem, she didn’t say anything. Just made it snow.”

“Snow?”

“Yes and in my bedroom!”

He paused. “Do you know who she is?”

“I’m not completely sure,” she answered.

“Who do you think she is?” he asked.

Maybe this subject wasn’t any better than the last. “What time is it?” she asked, hoping to derail the conversation.

“Eight thirty.”

“If I hurry, I can still make my first class. I should go.”

“So you don’t want to know what I found out about our guy Damian Bond?”

Oh, hell, she was slipping. Of course she wanted to know. “What did you find?” She sat up.

Chapter Twenty-nine

“Who do you think the ghost is?” Chase asked, as if only willing to share if she would.

“I’m not a hundred percent sure.” Della spoke the truth.

“So, who do you think it is?” he asked for the second time.

“Aren’t you the one who said she was my ghost?” she countered and sat up on the side of her bed.

“Aren’t you the one who said we had joint custody?” he shot back as if frustrated. “If it will help us find—”

“If it would help us, I’d tell you, but right now I’m just confused. So cut the crap and tell me what you have on Damian Bond.”

He let her suffer for a few seconds before he started talking. “The most important thing is that he’s in California right now, and has been for the last three days. So it wasn’t him you got a trace of last night.”

“How … how do you know this?”

“The FRU aren’t the only ones who have databases. I had the Vampire Council do a rundown on him. When I was heading home last night, they got back with me. We’ve got him on a watch list. At one time, he belonged to a gang that targeted vampires. Supposedly, he’s dropped out, but we have an address on him. I paid a visit to his home. His girlfriend told me he was in L.A. He does some stunt work for a few movies. But he’s flying home on Friday night. I think we should meet him at baggage claim, don’t you?”

Della’s mind spun. “Yeah.” But she couldn’t deny feeling disappointed that Damian wasn’t the one at Uck’s Burgers whose trace she’d picked up. Especially when that was the trace the ghost had given her when she’d been watching the interview. How did this all fit together?

Exhaling, she stared down at her bare toes. “Have you told Burnett this yet?”

“Not yet. I thought I’d tell my partner first.”

Something in how he said “partner” made her stomach flutter. And it was a good flutter—as if she was part of something … or someone … that mattered.

She brushed her hair from her face and looked back at her bedroom door when she heard footsteps running up her cabin’s front porch. One deep breath and she recognized the witch’s scent.

“Here comes Miranda,” Della said into the phone. “I gotta go. Call Burnett and fill him in. If you don’t, he’s going to be pissed.”

“Isn’t that his regular state of being?”

“Just do it.” She hung up as her bedroom door swung open and Miranda rushed in.

“What’s wrong?” Della asked.

The witch took a deep breath as if she’d been running. “Kylie told me Shawn was stabbed,” she said, sounding a bit panicked. “Is he okay?” She still had her fork in her hand as if she’d gotten the news during breakfast and forgot to leave it behind.

Della made a rash and quick decision to manipulate the truth a little. Hey … if Kylie could play matchmaker, maybe Della could pull it off. “I don’t know. He was hurt pretty badly. I have his number. You should call and check on him.”

Shawn had actually been fine. A few stitches and he was as good as ever. He’d given his number to her and Chase when they left, just in case they got anything else on the werewolf. Supposedly, he was going to continue helping them with the case.

Miranda frowned. “Why would I call him?”

“Hmm, let’s see. Maybe because you’re worried enough about him that you ran all the way from the dining hall, with a fork in your hand, to ask me about him,” Della said.

“But … I’m not … we’re not … friends.”

“You could be.”

Miranda rolled her eyes. “I remember what you said about him putting out pheromones and all, but he’s older than I am.”

“By what? Two years? Call him.”

“But I’m not … I just…”

Della could read the witch’s mind. “Has Perry called you?”

A sad and pathetic look filled the witch’s eyes. “No.”

“Let me see if I understand. Perry tells you he wants to take a break from your so-called relationship. He leaves. You give him a magical phone that can call you anytime, anywhere, and he hasn’t bothered to use it. Right?”