Page 22 of Deadly Blooms (Psychic Unraveled #1)

Maggie

Back home, I spent most of the day holed up in the sunroom, wrapped in a blanked, scrolling through every article I could find about how to contact the dead. Chester curled up at my feet, purring like he knew I needed grounding.

My phone buzzed. Katie said that she and Derek were outside. Stuck. Because Graham was interrogating them about why they were here so late.

Outside, Graham sat in his SUV like a gargoyle, exactly where he’d been the night before. You’d think the man would need a stretch or piss or something. But no—he was on duty. I admired the commitment… even if it was borderline obsessive.

I fired off a text and tossed my blanket aside.

I’ll be right out. Tell him the truth.

Thunder rumbled overhead, the sky threatening a tantrum. A few fat raindrops smacked my skin as I jogged toward the gate.

Graham had his arms crossed, and his face set in that infuriating cop-mode mask as he grilled Katie and Derek.

I march to the gate. “You know them, jackass . Let ‘em in!”

Graham didn’t even flinch. “Just getting the itinerary, Maggie—so I know what to expect.”

Translation: I was being reckless, and he needed to keep me in check.

My frustration boiled over. “What is this? Are you trying to turn into the captain now? Need to know every time I take a piss, too?” I threw my hands up, completely done with his overbearing bullshit. “About half an hour ago… for your report… officer .”

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said with a smirk I wanted to knock off with a brick.

Derek chuckled.

That pissed Graham off.

Derek was smaller than Graham, but not by much.

Leaner, but still had a nice set of muscles hiding under his gamer t-shirt.

He was good-looking—my age, or a little younger, maybe—with fair skin, a dusting of scruff edging his chiseled square jaw, and a pouty lower lip that looked like it could ruin a woman on a Sunday morning.

Dark sideburns framed his high cheekbones, and his mousy brown hair was not overly styled, but still gave the vibe that he woke up that way.

“No need to apologize” Derek cut in, his whiskey brown eyes locking with Graham’s as he adjusted his thin rimmed glasses. “We can’t all be The Dark Knight .” He said amused, cocky, and just shy of provoking.

The way his glasses perched on his nose gave him a slightly hot-brainy vibe that I didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with right now.

A chunky pair of headphones hung around his neck, and he carried a bag that looked like it had eaten the last RadioShack.

EMF meters, thermometers, weird blinking gadgets—I stopped trying to identify them when I realized just how much testosterone was pumping between these two.

Graham’s voice sliced back, “Careful, any louder and you won’t hear your meters over the sound of your own ego.”

I blinked at their back-and-forth, my face twisting in confusion. “Do you two know each other, or am I just watching the foreplay?”

The crease between Graham’s brows deepened.

“Derek has a habit of showing up whenever shit gets weird. He’s like a flea.

” He crossed his arms, and I watched the sinew flex as he settled in.

“Just annoying enough to make you scratch somewhere inappropriate. But yeah, the department’s called him a few times. ”

“And what happens every time I arrive?” Derek asked with a smug confidence ringing in his voice.

Graham grunted in response, his upper lip twitching like Derek had just said something unbelievable.

“Shockingly, he’s helped us catch a couple suspects. But it always ends with me drowning in paperwork over things I don’t know how to explain. So yeah, we know each other.”

“Oh, don’t be so shy, man,” Derek elbowed him. “We’re old buddies. I was with him on his first case in Port Grey, eight years ago.”

“Buddies, might be an overexaggeration. I think we’re still working on the report from the mess you got us into.”

Derek gasped and placed his hand on his chest with feigned indignation. “Graham, I’m hurt.”

“”Uh… Hi.. Hello— I’m Maggie,” I butted in, shooting a wave in Derek’s direction. Someone had to break up whatever this was before one of them whipped out a tape measure to see who’s dick was bigger. “You’re here to uh… hunt my ghosts?”

“I’m not really a hunter, more of an investigator that specializes in spectral rehoming.” He gave a tight-lipped smile.

I blinked.

Graham scoffed, “Big words for a man who waves a wand around while he waits for the house to speak.”

Derek ignored Graham, and turned square to face me, “Oh, you should know, your belongings are right on schedule.”

“What? How did you—?” I looked to Katie for an answer.

“Derek has a way of forgetting a little thing called privacy,” she said.

He shrugged. “What? I looked her up… big deal. It’s not like I’m sharing the tales of her adventurous sex life, right, Maggie?”

I choked on air.

“ What?! ”

Graham smirked like it was the best thing in the world.

How the hell did Derek know about my love life? I didn’t post about it online. Annie would never . There shouldn’t have been a record?—

Unless…

Maybe Derek was just one of those guys that mastered the art of bullshitery? He didn’t seem the type, but I’d been wrong before. If that was the case, he and Graham were perfect for each other.

Just play along, Maggie. Don’t give yourself away.

“Right.” I said, pointing both index fingers at him like I was trying to be Mr. Coolguy.

He blinked twice at me, then gave another tight lipped smile.

Way to make it awkward, Maggie. Nice going.

The sky darkened fast, and the air turned heavy like it knew something we didn’t.

Katie edged between us, eyeing the porch. “Can we go in now? I’d rather not get struck by lightning tonight.”

I shot Graham a look, “Well, officer ? Are they allowed entry, or should I draw up permission slips for their parents to sign?”

Graham’s tone shifted, softer now. “Yeah. It’s fine, Maggie.” He rubbed the back of his neck as Derek and Katie slipped past us. “I’m just doing my job.” He nodded and turned back toward the SUV, the soft patter of the rain against the hood was the only thing that broke the silence between us.

He reached for the door, and my shoulders dropped.

Quit being such a bitch, Maggie. The man’s trying to help.

“Maybe… you could come in?” I called after him, but my voice sounded small. “I’m sorry I’ve been… prickly. This whole thing has me feeling out of control and… honestly… scared. Since no one has answers, I thought—maybe I’d try something different.”

Graham’s expression softened. He gave me that lopsided smile—the one that showed just enough tooth to make my chest ache.

“It’s alright. Go inside. Enjoy your evening with your friends. I’ll be out here if anything happens.” His gaze held mine.

The radio in his cruiser crackled as he put a foot in.

It was weirdly comforting knowing he’d be right there. Watching if something bad happened—I knew he wouldn’t hesitate.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Hey—Batman!” Derek’s voice echoed from the porch.” Heads up, my sister Laila and her boyfriend Chad might show up too.” Then, he disappeared into the house.

“Batman? Do I even ask?”

“It’s a weird thing he does,” Graham held up a hand and pointed to the tiny bat tattooed on his middle finger. “That’s for Derek.”

His gaze flicked to the sky then met mine, “Storm’s here. Go on.”

The gentle patter turned violent in seconds, rain pounding my shoulders and sliding down my spine. I shivered. He gave a slight nod—a silent go.

“Ya know, buddies isn’t an exaggeration if you mark your body with something that reminds you of them.” I said, then ran inside.

Inside, Katie and Derek’s footsteps echoed through the house. Derek had already slipped into full paranormal mode, waving his EMF reader like a divining rod. Beeps and static and squeals snapped in each room.

He barely glanced at us.

I touched Katie’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming.”

She gave me a warm, almost solemn look, “Anytime. Not many people in this town would come running if you screamed ‘ghost.’ But I’d hope you’d do the same for me. Plus..” She winked and jingled her pentacle charm in my face, “…I need more friends like you.”

She turned toward the kitchen. “Let’s make some tea while Derek finds his spooky hotspot.”

I hesitated. “We could… if I had literally anything. My stuff doesn’t get here until Tuesday. No pots. No mugs. Not even a damn table.”

Katie grinned like she had a secret. From her bottomless bag of witchy nonsense, she pulled an electric kettle and a tin of tea. “You’ve got water, right?”

I gave a relieved little laugh. “Yeah.”

I twisted the faucet.

Decades of neglect caused the pipes to groan; then, without warning, they violently sprayed brown water across the sink and my shirt.

“Shit!”

I stumbled backward, colliding with Katie. The tea tin went flying. Leaves sprayed across the tile like confetti.

“Shit, Katie, I’m sorry—I’m still a little jumpy.”

I knelt to gather the scattered tea leaves, but froze.

“MAGGIE LEAVE,” the words stared back at me—etched clear as day in the mess of herbs. A chill licked down my spine.

Katie leaned over my shoulder. “Derek!”

He padded over, his device whining with static and creaking like old bones. The closer he got, the louder it shrieked—until it sounded like the floor itself might snap in half.

He hovered the thing above the message. “It’s spiking. Off the damn scale.”

Katie’s eyes locked with mine, wide in shock… and then mischief.

“You wanna hear something crazy?” She whispered, grinning like a cat about to drop a mouse at your feet.

I didn’t blink. “Always.”

She giggled. “I’ve always wanted to sleep with a ghost.”

I raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

She shrugged, not missing a beat. “Don’t you ever wonder what it’d be like?”

My mouth dropped open, a laugh slipping out. “Literally never.”