“What in God’s name are you making?” Scott stared in horror at Coulter’s creation.
He had crammed ham, pastrami, tomatoes, pickles, jalapeños, cheddar cheese, onions, mustard, mayo, and several juicy slices of mango between two slabs of sourdough bread.
“Remember that mango chutney Angel’s sister brought over? I realized that mango tastes good on everything. Makes it tangy.” He took an enormous bite, managing not to spill a single drop. “Want some?”
“Not on your life.” Scott didn’t know what was going on between Coulter and Anjali’s sister. The guy made out with one sister and was being fed by the other.
Scott was staying out of it.
When the doorbell rang, he very thankfully left the kitchen, crossed the hall into the foyer, and opened the door.
Eddie Mirza stood there, a big grin on his face. “You’re about to owe me big time.”
“Spill it,” Scott said.
The three men were seated in the kitchen. Coulter was on his second sandwich, having fixed an identical one for Eddie.
“Well,” Eddie began and took a bite. “Hey, this is delicious!”
“I like a man with a sophisticated palate,” Coulter said.
Eddie grinned. “Well, you know Vivica and I have never seen eye to eye. So when this project came across my desk I didn’t pass it on to her even if she is my colleague.”
“Pass on what?” Scott asked.
“The thing is, I’m already committed to a case in Killarney—numerous sightings of free-floating orbs at Dunluce Castle. I’ve never been to the Emerald Isle. Have you?”
“What’s the damn project?” Scott demanded.
Eddie’s grin widened. “I’ll give you a hint. Pacific Grove.”
“The Booth House,” Scott said in a stunned voice.
Coulter popped the last bite in his mouth. “What the hell’s the Booth House?”
“Supposedly one of the most haunted historical homes in America,” Eddie answered.
“Haunted historical home?” Coulter said. “Say that three times fast.”
Eddie did.
Coulter shrugged. “Guess it’s not that tricky.”
Scott cleared his throat. “Back to the Booth House. We use the term supposedly because no one in our field has ever been allowed inside to investigate.”
“It gets even better,” Eddie said. “Dr. Madison from the NASPR will be on hand as a consultant.”
“The NASPR?” Coulter asked.
“The North American Society for Psychical Research,” Scott clarified. “Virginia Madison is one of the few parapsychologists respected by other branches of academia.” He smiled at Eddie. “Present company included. Dr. Madison has a Ph.D. in American history as well.”
“Well la-di-da.” Coulter got up and went to the fridge.
Eddie rubbed his hands. “This is gonna really knock your socks off, Scott. Now, if my Dunluce Castle contact wasn’t such a pretty Irish lass I’d—”
Scott groaned. “Honestly, Eddie, you take more commercial breaks than must-see TV. Get on with it!”
“Well, it’s funny you should mention TV because…the Sci Fi Channel will be filming the entire Booth House project! They’re sending in a camera crew.”
Coulter shut the refrigerator door and slowly turned around. “Did you say the Sci Fi Channel? We’re going to be on TV?”
Eddie glanced at Coulter. “You’re not camera shy, are you?”
“Is the pope Mormon?” Scott said dryly.
Wearing a big smile, Coulter sat back down. “Well la-di-da, boys.”