Читать книгу Deadly Liaisons - Elle James - Страница 11

Chapter 2

Molly promised a tour of the mansion the following day, offered coffee and turned her ghost-hunting guests loose for the night to settle in with a word of caution about wandering away from the house in the fog. “Don’t tempt fate.”

“Well, we’ll be on our way, too.” Gabe bent to press a kiss to her cheek. “Take care, little sis.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay the night?” She glanced around at Emma, Creed, Gabe and Kayla. “One of the guests canceled and I have a spare bedroom available. Gabe, you and Kayla could sleep there—it’s a king-size—Emma and Creed can have my room and I can claim a couch. For that matter, the one in the lounge is a fold-out double bed.”

“Thanks, anyway,” Kayla said. “Dakota’s babysitting Tonya. I don’t want him to have to watch her all night.”

“How’s that going?” Molly asked.

Kayla smiled. “He loves his little sister and she adores him.”

Molly’s glance shifted to the driveway, where she could barely see the outlines of the cars parked there; the light from the porch bounced off the fog rather than penetrating it. “I hate for you to get out in that.”

“If Kayla has her way, we’ll crawl.” Gabe hugged Kayla close to his side.

“I don’t think so.” Kayla swatted his chest. “But we will go very slowly.”

“What about you two?” Molly asked Creed and Emma, who hadn’t been able to get their hands off each other all evening.

Seeing how happy they were gave Molly that pang of longing she’d been experiencing all evening long. Her family and friends were finding the loves of their lives and she was still mooning over a man she would never see again.

Emma yawned and leaned into Creed’s side. “My dog needs to be let outside before he goes to sleep for the night, otherwise I’d take you up on the offer.”

“I understand he’s doing better since the terrorist threat was...what’s the word you used?” Molly asked.

“Neutralized,” Creed finished.

“Moby’s doing great.” Emma’s lips twisted. “But he still cringes when he hears loud noises.”

“A dog with PTSD.” Creed shook his head.

“Hey, you knew what you were getting into.” Emma leaned back, her brows narrowing. “Love me, love my dog.”

“And I love both.” Creed kissed the end of her nose. “You more than Moby.”

Emma’s frown cleared and she leaned against him. “That’s better.”

Molly forced a laugh past the lump in her throat. Creed and Emma had almost lost their lives in the struggle to capture the terrorists. Emma was one of Molly’s closest friends, like the sister she never had. “You two be careful in the fog.”

Emma hugged her. “You bet we will. And don’t go walking near the edge of the cliff tonight. Can’t have the ghosts of McGregor Manor pushing you over the edge.”

Molly laughed. “Hardly. As thick as the Devil’s Shroud is tonight, I’d miss seeing the edge and fall over sooner than being pushed. I’m not worried about the ghosts.”

Kayla shivered. “Personally, I’m more concerned about the ghosts than the fog.”

“See what you’ve done?” Gabe chucked his sister beneath her chin. “You weave a spooky tale, Molly McGregor. Kayla will be up all night imagining every little sound is the ghost that inhabits the lighthouse.”

Kayla shook her head. “Will not. I’m at peace with them. However, I’ve had an eerie feeling since I walked into the B&B this afternoon. Something feels different.”

A trickle of apprehension slithered down the back of Molly’s neck and she laughed, the sound less than confident. “It’s all hocus-pocus to entertain the guests.”

“Was any of it true?” Emma asked.

“The story is as true as hearsay. Ian and Rose did live here in the mansion. Ian built it for her, but how they died is all speculation. Their bodies were found at the base of the cliff. No one knows what really happened.”

“You mean the accident could have been a murder and the murderer got away?” Kayla hugged Gabe tighter. “Now, that’s something I’d rather I didn’t know.”

“I’d read about the McGregors when I was researching the history of Cape Churn, and you’re right,” Emma said. “Some of the letters written in that time talked about finding the couple at the base of the cliff. Nothing was mentioned about a murder or marital strife.”

“I found Rose’s diary hidden in a secret compartment of an old secretary desk in an upstairs room. She was very unhappy, fancying herself in love with the pirate. Now, whether or not she’d had an affair with him wasn’t mentioned in the diary. But it all makes for a great story.”

“You mean you really haven’t seen any ghosts?” Kayla asked.

Molly shrugged. “I’ve felt pockets of chilled air and thought I saw something once along the cliffs and twice in the house. I don’t know if it was power of suggestion or the real deal. I like to think I have an open mind.”

Kayla’s face paled. “As long as they aren’t malevolent.”

Molly laughed. “I don’t think so. So far, I haven’t experienced anything more dangerous than stubbing my toe on a piece of furniture. I like to think of them as my friendly ghosts.”

“I feel better already,” Kayla said. “Let’s go home, Gabe. I’ve done enough ghost hunting for the evening.”

Molly touched Kayla’s arm. “I’m sorry if the story disturbed you.”

“Oh, no, I just seem to feel things more. I never could watch scary movies or walk through graveyards.”

“And after you were attacked by a serial killer, I can imagine you’re even more sensitive.” Emma hugged Kayla. “You’re safe among friends now.”

Kayla smiled. “It’s nice to have friends. Well, Dakota and Tonya are waiting.” She turned toward the parking area, took one step and screamed.

Shadows moved and forms materialized out of the fog.

Molly’s heart leaped into her throat and she was just short of screaming herself when Casanova and Nicole emerged, rumpled, with their clothes torn and their skin scratched and bruised.

The five people on the porch rushed forward, Emma Jenkins, the nurse among them, pushing to the front. “What happened?” she asked, taking charge of inspecting their injuries.

“Brakes gave out,” Casanova said. “The fog was so thick it was too dangerous to navigate the road at breakneck speed. When we got to even steeper parts of the road, we decided to bail.”

Molly pressed a hand to her chest. “Dear Lord, you could have rolled off a cliff.”

Nova raked a hand through his dark hair. “I’m glad I couldn’t see what was off to the sides of the road. I remember sheer drop-offs along the way out here.” When Emma tried to look at the scrape on his elbow, he shook his head. “Check out Tazer first. She has more scrapes than I do.”

Emma moved on to Nicole. “Molly, do you have a first-aid kit with bandages, alcohol and gauze?”

“I do.” Molly turned and fled into the house in search of the things Emma would need. In the downstairs powder room, she leaned over the sink, staring at herself in the mirror without seeing her own reflection. They could have been killed.

She jerked open the cabinet door beneath the sink and retrieved the kit she kept on hand for emergencies like bug bites, cuts and scrapes, not bailing from vehicles speeding down a curvy road along a foggy cliffside. Her breath caught.

Footsteps behind her forced her to pull herself together. She turned, with a smile plastered to her face. “Here it is—”

Casanova stood in the doorway, an angry road burn on his cheek and chin, making him even more attractive and rugged than before. Almost dangerous. “You okay?” he asked, his voice warm and sexy.

She laughed, the sound more hysterical than she’d intended. “You’re asking me? You and Nicole jumped out of a runaway vehicle and you’re worried that I’m all right?” She shook her head. “I should take you straight to the hospital and have them examine your head.”

“I take that as a yes, you’re okay.” He grinned and took the kit from her shaking fingers. “I’m fine. Just a little bruised.”

“Thank God.” She touched her hand to his arm and jerked it back as the spark of electricity she’d experienced earlier jolted through her arm and down to that place that hadn’t been stirred in three long years.

What was it about Casanova that made her blood run hot and her body ache to touch him? Was it all in his name? He was charming, attractive and a smooth talker. And he probably broke hearts around the world with those dark eyes, big hands and sexy accent.

Her breathing became more labored, her body flushed with warmth, pooling at her core. The bathroom walls seemed to close in around them, making it even more intimate than a bathroom ought to be.

“I should get this out to Emma.” She ducked past him, her hip brushing against his, sending a rush of longing through her.

How long had it been since she’d dated? Since before her fiancé’s sailboat had disappeared in the Devil’s Shroud. His boat had returned to shore in pieces. Bill’s body had never been recovered. Three years had passed since then. Three years in which she’d thrown herself into refurbishing, remodeling and making McGregor B&B into the viable operation it was today.

“Oh, good.” Emma entered the house, leading Nicole. “I need to run water over the wounds to clean out the gravel and asphalt.”

“In here.” Once again, Molly passed Casanova to enter the bathroom. “You can use the sink or the bathtub.”

“I can do this myself,” Nicole protested.

“Yeah, but you have a trained nurse right here,” Molly argued. “Why not let her take care of it for you?” She held out a washcloth to Emma.

Nicole took it. “She’s off duty and I can do it myself.” She stepped into the bathtub and went to work cleaning the wound while Emma ripped open packages of gauze and the medical tape. Emma had Nicole’s wounds cleaned, treated and bandaged in minutes.

Nicole rose. “I’ll call the boss and let them know we won’t make it back in the morning.”

“I can take you both to Portland,” Creed offered.

Casanova shook his head. “I don’t think we should risk it. You haven’t been out on that highway.”

Kayla shot a glance at Gabe. “Should we stay?”

Gabe shook his head. “I have to get back. If something happens—and it always does on nights like this—I’m on call with the police department. We’ll take it slow.” He looked across at Nicole and Casanova. “I could drop you off in town at the hotel, or one of you could sleep on my couch and the other on the floor in my living room. It’s a little closer to town.”

“I’d offer to let you stay with us,” Emma said, “but I’m having the cottage remodeled, the bed in the guest room was dismantled and I got rid of my old couch.”

“Don’t be silly.” Molly waved her hand. “I can accommodate Casanova, Nicole, Emma and Creed. And I’ll provide breakfast.”

“We don’t want to add to your burden,” Casanova insisted.

“Then you can help cook breakfast.” Molly smiled brightly. “Gabe and Kayla, call me when you get to your place so that I know you’re okay.”

“We will.” Gabe kissed Molly, and the couple departed, leaving the remaining folks standing on the porch.

Molly led Emma and Creed to the guest room and then stopped in the hallway to gather sheets and blankets from the linen closet. As she carried them to the first floor, her heart beat faster with each step that brought her closer to him.

Nicole came in from the front porch. “Could I use your landline? I’m not getting any reception on my cell phone.”

“Sure, it’s in the dining room.” Molly pointed the way. “I’m making a bed for you in the old servant’s quarters if you don’t mind. It’s only a single.”

“I’m not picky,” Nicole said. “Thank you for putting us up.”

“It’s the least I can do after your near-death experience.”

Nicole ducked into the dining room, leaving Molly alone with Casanova. Her voice murmured through the open doorway, the sound muffled by distance.

Molly’s pulse hammered through her veins as she pulled the cushions off the couch and reached for the handle to unfold the hidden bed beneath. A bed Casanova would soon be sleeping on. Did he sleep naked? Her stomach fluttered.

“Let me.” Casanova’s hand closed over hers and all her good intentions flew to the four winds.

She stepped back so quickly she nearly tripped on the cushion she’d tossed to the floor behind her.

Casanova grabbed her arm and yanked her against his chest to keep her from falling.

With her breasts smashed against him, she couldn’t breathe. Or was it just because he stole her breath away?

“What is it about you that makes me want to kiss you?” he whispered, his head dipping toward her.

“I don’t know.” Molly’s eyelids swooped low and her chin tipped upward, her lips tingling even before his touched hers.

“The boss is okay with our delay,” Nicole said, the words louder as she stepped through the doorway. “Nothing urgent on the docket...”

Molly leaped over the cushion and scrubbed her palms over her jeans, her face heating as if she stood too close to a raging fire.

And wasn’t that what she’d done? Stood too close to Casanova, a man who flirted and left a woman at every stop? If she kept it up, she’d get burned.

“Uh, did I interrupt something?” Nicole’s lips turned up on one corner. “I’m sure I can go back into the dining room and call someone else or make a snack or something, if you’d like to be alone.”

Pressing her damp palms against her cheeks, Molly shook her head. “No, no. I can show you to your room now, if you’d like.”

“Are you sure?” Nicole turned to go back into the kitchen.

“Yes.” Molly grabbed the twin-size sheets and hurried past Nicole. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the room. It’s not much.”

“Honey, don’t let my Jimmy Choo shoes fool you. I’ve slept on the ground in the cold rain before. Nothing can be as bad as that.”

As she left the room, Molly could hear a soft chuckle from one hot agent who’d managed to turn her inside out in a matter of minutes. What was she thinking? The man was temporary, at best.

So? What was wrong with a temporary fling?

Molly flipped the switch on the old maid’s quarters she’d converted into an office. She’d left the twin-size bed in there on the off chance she had to rent out her own room should the B&B fill to overflowing. “You could have my bedroom, if you want.”

“No, this is great. A mattress and pillow are all I need. And I presume I can use the shower in the bathroom we were just in?”

“You certainly may. The towels are in a cupboard beside the sink.”

“Thanks.”

When Molly turned to leave, Nicole caught her arm. “And, Molly...”

“Yes?”

“Be careful with Nova.”

Molly’s brows narrowed. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You two were in a clinch, and it wasn’t about wrestling.” She loosened her grip Molly’s arm. “I’m just saying, he’s a flirt, but there’s something more beneath that bravado. I suspect he got hurt once.”

Molly laughed. “And here I thought you were worried about me having my heart broken.”

Nicole frowned. “That, too. He hasn’t taken an interest in anyone in a long time.”

“And you think I have the ability to hurt him again?” Molly shook her head. “I barely know the guy.”

“Love doesn’t take years to grow.”

“And lust shouldn’t be confused with love.” Molly glanced down at the hand on her arm. “If there’s nothing else I can get you...”

“Just so you know—” Nicole’s hand tightened on Molly’s arm before she finally let go “—I look out for my team.”

“Casanova is a big boy.” Boy hardly described the hulk of a man. “He can look out for himself.”

Nicole smiled, her face as lovely as any model’s. “Men can be fools when it comes to women. Casanova may be a crack agent, but he’s a little soft when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Unlike you?”

Nicole dipped her head. “Unlike me.”

“Don’t worry,” Molly said. “I’m not out to prove he’s a fool.” She backed through the doorway, spun on her heels and ran.

She couldn’t believe Nicole had warned her off Casanova. As if Molly could be a threat to Nicole. She was stunningly attractive and could no doubt hold her own in any catfight. Then why warn Molly to back off?

Unless she had a stake in the handsome agent. Was Nicole in love with him? If so, why hadn’t she owned up to it or shown any sign?

Molly pressed a hand to her flushed cheek. As she blew through the kitchen, she checked the settings on the stove to make sure it had been turned off properly. Passing through the dining room and into the front lounge where Casanova would be sleeping, she paused.

He wasn’t there.

The bathroom door was open, the light off inside. She checked the study; the door was open, the light was off and nothing stirred inside.

Which left the front porch.

Molly lifted the flashlight from the charger by the door and gripped the handle, shivering. Butterflies crowded her belly as she stepped out. The porch light had been turned off and the only light to see by was shining through the window of the front lounge from a small lamp. It barely diffused through the thick fog creeping in at the corner of the long, wide porch.

Molly looked right then left and saw no sign of Casanova. A soft sound penetrated the cloak of mist surrounding the house.

Molly strained to make it out. It sounded like someone sobbing.

“Help me.”

More sobbing. The sound, like that of a child or young woman, came from toward the rocky cliffs, more a faint whisper, almost nonexistent. At first she thought she might be imagining it, after all the talk about ghosts. Or that the sea splashing against the rocky shore below had somehow created its own echoing call. Molly’s heartbeat kicked into high gear.

“Help me.”

There it was again. Molly stepped down the porch steps, breaking every rule she’d ever given her guests. If someone was in danger, she couldn’t just leave that person alone out there.

When her feet touched the ground, she switched on the flashlight, the beam bouncing back at her against the wall of pea-soup fog.

If she were smart, she’d march her butt right back into the house and get someone else to help her.

Then again, everyone was settling in for the night. What if she were wrong and the sound was just her overactive imagination?

Maybe, if she walked to the end of the house, keeping the porch and walls within sight, she’d hear the sound more clearly and determine if it was out by the cliffs or close to the house. Or not there at all.

She inched her way alongside the railing, her flashlight pointed at the ground in front of her. She knew the yard was safe, but once a person stepped outside the glow of light, she’d be lost in a fog. Had one of her guests gone on her own personal ghost hunt alone and wandered too far away from the house?

Sheesh, maybe telling the story of seeing Rose by the cliff had been too tempting to one of the members of the tour group.

“Help me.”

The cool, damp night air pushed through the threads of her cardigan, chilling Molly. “Who’s out there?” she called out, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat and moved to the end of the house, toward the sea. “Hello?”

Molly took another step, taking her away from the safety of the structure. She turned and shone her light at the porch. The fog swirled between her and the porch, but it was still within sight.

She took another step and another. On the third, she turned back and shone her light at the wall of fog.

Her heart leaped to her throat and she stepped back in what she hoped was the direction she’d come. For a moment she didn’t see the deck; when it came into sight, she wanted to throw her arms around the railing. Instead, she stood for a moment gathering her wits. “I’m going to get some help,” she called out to the fog.

“Please. Hurry.”

The plaintive cry made her turn away from the house, torn between going for help and leaving the lost soul alone for a few moments.

As if led by her own feet, she walked back out into the fog. “Where are you?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew how stupid they were. If the lost person knew where she was, she wouldn’t be calling out for help. “Keep talking so I can find you.”

“Here. I am here. Hurry.”

Molly stepped out, following the sound of the voice. “Who are you?”

“Here.”

“I’m coming.”

This time when she turned back to shine her light at the porch, all she saw was exactly what had been in front of her—more fog. Her head spun as she struggled to keep her balance in a world that had lost its spatial references. Fog surrounded her, pushing in to consume her.

Heart pounding against her ribs, Molly swallowed a sob, unsure of where she was and which way to go. “Hello?” she called out, her voice wobbling. “Hello!” Her voice grew stronger, louder.

The voice she’d been following didn’t respond. The fog had swallowed her so completely she no longer knew which way to go to reach the house. She took one step, then another, shining her light at the ground, hoping to recognize a bush, grass, anything to bring her back home.

Tears pooled in her eyes, making it harder to see. “Hello?” The word caught on a sob. “Anyone?”

A pebble skittered across the ground.

Molly spun one direction, then another, unsure which direction the sound had come from. When she made a one-eighty, she ran face-first into a wall with arms that wrapped around her.

She fought, opening her mouth to scream, but a hand clamped over her lips, and another trapped her arms against her sides.