“I don’t know. I closed the door to the bedroom before I came back through the tunnel.”
She set the cue stick across the pool table and darted out into the hallway. The noise was clearer out here, and it sounded like one door was being slammed after another only seconds apart. The noises reverberated from one side of the house to the other, but what she couldn’t hear was the sound of footsteps running down the hallway.
Her heart stilled momentarily. Someone, or something, was in the house with them. They were not alone.
FIVE
ELIZABETH’S NERVES shook as she and Sam crept up to the second floor to investigate the slamming noises. Sam seemed a little on edge, too, but he’d be the last to admit he was spooked. They opened the door to every room, but there wasn’t any sign of another person being in the house or the smell of men’s cologne. All the furniture and décor were still in its proper places as if nothing had happened.
“Maybe the windows were open,” she said, grasping at any logical explanation that could have caused the doors to slam. “A large gust of wind could have blown the doors shut.”
Sam arched an eyebrow as he peered at her. “Are you saying that there just happened to be a gust of wind coming from the north and the south – at the same time? And all the doors were closed anyway, so that justification doesn’t work.”
She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe Arizona just experienced a freak tornado that only lasted for five minutes.” She shook her head. “I don’t know, Sam. I’m just trying to figure out why it happened.”
“You don’t think it was the dead man’s ghost, do you?”
“Of course not.” She paused and then asked, “Do you?”
He stood up straighter, squaring his shoulders. “Definitely not.”
She rubbed her forehead. With everything that had happened that night, she could feel a headache coming on. Maybe she just needed some sleep. “Well, all I know is that this has been a very exhausting evening. I’m going to go to bed.”
“But it’s only ten o’clock.”
“I don’t care. I have a headache and I’m tired.”
He moved beside her and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her up against his body. She brought her hands up to his chest to hold him back.
“I think I should stay in your room tonight,” Sam said, doing his best impression of a sexy voice. “That will make you feel better.”
“No, I don’t think so.” She squirmed a bit in his grasp. “Go find your own room.”
Ignoring her protests, he caressed her cheek. “But who will comfort you when you get scared?”
Immediately, Nolan’s face materialized in her mind. His caring green eyes had left an impression in her memory, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to think about his handsome face and compassionate eyes right at that second. She also didn’t want to be reminded of that when they had been together. For a brief moment, Nolan had acted as if he’d wanted to comfort her.
She pushed away that memory and stepped out of Sam’s arms. “I won’t need comforting, Sam. I plan on going right to sleep, and how can I be frightened when I’m asleep?”
Sam shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Your loss.”
Actually, it would be Sam’s loss, but she was too mentally drained to start the break-up process with him tonight. She’d do it first thing tomorrow, for sure.
Elizabeth hurried into her room and closed the door. She hesitated as she stared at the doorknob, and then, before moving away, she locked it. Tonight, it wouldn’t be the so-called ghost who worried her... it would be her so-called boyfriend.
It wasn’t long before she’d changed out of her clothes and slipped into a large, baggy t-shirt. She grabbed her tablet and climbed into bed... the softest bed she’d ever been in. She wouldn’t have to worry about tossing and turning tonight. In fact, she probably didn’t even need to read on her tablet to help her unwind, but she unlocked the device, anyway.
She adjusted the pillows behind her, waiting for the tablet to connect. During the few minutes it took, she glanced around the room. Was there an entrance to a passageway in this room? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she definitely wouldn’t be searching for one tonight.
Instead of pulling up the e-book she’d been reading, she went to the internet to do some searching. Digging for more information about Aaron Powers seemed to have turned into an addiction. She couldn’t help but want to see his face again before she fell asleep.
She found another video of him during one of his acts and hit play. As the pretty blonde woman moved around Aaron, slinking up to him like a jungle cat, Elizabeth couldn’t tell if this was the same woman who she had seen with Aaron in the video she’d watched earlier. Was this ZoAnn or Gina?
Elizabeth studied his expression as he looked at his assistant and found herself once again captivated by his remarkable blue eyes. Thomas’ eyes were like this too, but not as dreamy.
Chuckling to herself, she shook her head. Why was she thinking this way about a dead man? She must be insane.
A knock came upon her door, and she jumped. Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, almost painfully. “S-S-Sam?”
“Hey, babe, I’m going downstairs to find something to eat. You want anything while I’m down there?”
She breathed slower, trying to suppress the adrenaline coursing through her veins. “No, I’m fine. Thanks anyway.”
“Okay. Goodnight, babe.”
“Nite.” She gritted her teeth. Lately, she’d loathed the name babe. Why couldn’t she bring herself to tell him to stop calling her that?
As she glanced back at her tablet, there was another noise. This one came from the ceiling. She listened closer. It sounded like footsteps, as though someone was walking around on the third floor. It couldn’t be Sam. He was heading downstairs to the kitchen.
She gulped down the growing lump of fear in her throat and pulled the blankets around her tighter. Her breathing became shallow again and she looked up at the ceiling, apprehensively.
“Aaron,” she whispered, “if that is really you... could you please stop? I-I-I need to go to sleep. Please, allow me this one luxury tonight.”
The footsteps stopped immediately. She listened closely but could detect no other noises. Had he heard her? Impossible. But the sound was gone, so she laid down and pulled the covers up and around her shoulders. It wouldn’t be the strange noises that would keep her up tonight – it would be the mystery of what was making those noises.
OVER THE COURSE OF their relationship, there were only a few times when Elizabeth had questioned why she would want to break up with Sam. This morning was one of those times. Apparently, he’d found bread, eggs, milk, syrup, and orange juice in the kitchen, and so he made French Toast and surprised her with breakfast in her room. They sat at the small round table in the bedroom and ate.
“I think there’s someone upstairs in the attic,” Sam said with a mouthful of food.
She sipped her juice. “Why do you say that?”
“Because they kept me awake most of the night.” He pointed to his eyes. “Can’t you see the bags under my eyes?”
“What was this person doing in the attic that kept you awake?” She took a bite of her French Toast.
“Well, if he wasn’t clomping about on the floor, he was moving furniture around.” Sam shook his head. “I know someone is up there, and my money is on the caretaker.”
“Nolan?” She chuckled. “Why would he be making noises in the attic in the middle of the night?”
“To scare us away.”
She shook her head. “Sam, the billionaire, Mr. Powers, was the one who asked my firm to get the house ready to sell. Why would one of his employees want to chase us away?”
Sam’s gaze narrowed on her. “What if Nolan lives here... and he doesn’t want the house sold because he doesn’t want to move?” His eyes widened. “That’s it! He’s the one making all these ghost stories up to frighten people away. Now that t
he magician guy is dead, Nolan wants the house all to himself.”
Elizabeth couldn’t imagine Nolan being that greedy. From the time they talked, he seemed to be a genuine kind of man... and sweet... and handsome...
She shook away the disturbing thoughts again, not wanting to go in that direction.
“When I talk to Nolan again, I’ll ask him if he was here last night.”
“Really? That’s it?”
She shrugged. “What do you want me to do, Sam? Have you forgotten that we are the guests here? Actually, I’m the only one who was invited here, so technically, you’re not even a guest.”
Scowling, he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “So, what are you saying? That you don’t want me here? That you want me to leave?”
This is the moment, her mind screamed. Tell him! She stared at her food, silently preparing the words she wanted to say and trying to muster enough courage to say them. Sam had always been a little controlling, but she couldn’t allow him to take charge of the conversation. Not this time.
Exhaling slowly, she lifted her gaze and met his eyes – eyes filled with cold anger. She gulped. “Well, you see—”
Just then, his phone’s obnoxious ringtone began announcing a call, and he quickly answered it. Whoever was on the other end was familiar to him, because his tone of voice lightened, and his words were becoming smooth and friendly. And... just as he always did whenever one of his friends called while they were together, Sam stood and walked away from her as if she wasn’t even there. He wandered to the entrance of her room and disappeared down the hallway, engrossed in his conversation.
Sighing, she pushed away from the table and walked to the door, closing and locking it behind her. She gathered the clothes she would wear for the day and headed into the bathroom. She turned on the showerhead connected to the spa tub, undressed, and climbed into the cascade of comforting water. Closing her eyes, she let the warm spray hit her face, calming her mood.
But the more she thought about Sam, the more the irritation grew inside her. He’d always put his friends first, and yet, he demanded to be the most important person in her life. For as long as she’d known him, he thought the world revolved around him. Well, she had news for him. He’d have to find another sucker to kiss up to him and jump whenever he snapped his fingers because she had had enough of his crap.
She turned and grabbed her shampoo, rubbing the suds through her long hair. Pushing her anger toward Sam aside, she pondered on what events her day would hold. Would the billionaire, Mr. Powers, personally come to see her? Was she supposed to start packing things? Maybe she just needed to order an appraisal and start on the legal paperwork for selling the house.
If Mr. Powers didn’t contact her soon, she would have to call Thomas and ask for his direction. Or Nolan...
Stop thinking of him! And yet, being with Nolan would give her another chance of getting to know Aaron better. Why she punished herself like this, she didn’t know, but she really wanted to know more about the man behind the magic.
Once she was finished washing, she turned off the water and reached for a towel hanging on the wall nearby. The room had become steamy, and she realized she should have opened a window before getting in the shower.
She ran the towel through her hair several times and then finished drying her body. As she wrapped the terry cloth around her body, a strange squeaking noise made her stop and listen. And then she saw it. Something – or someone – was writing on the foggy mirror. She watched, frozen, as the letters appeared one after the other.
D–U–M–P... H–I–M...
Elizabeth’s heartbeat quickened as panic filled her. But it was a different kind of panic... not one of fear, but of amazement and excitement.
“Dump him?” she said aloud, staring at the writing. “Dump who?” But the second the words left her mouth, she knew. Sam.
She took an unsteady breath. “Who are you?” She listened, but there was no sound except for her ragged breaths. “Are you... Aaron?”
The squeaky noise came again, as the invisible finger continued to write on the steamed mirror. Y–E–S.
SIX
ELIZABETH DIDN’T REMEMBER leaving the bathroom, nor did she recall when she’d gotten dressed. But she sat on the edge of the bed, brushing her hair, staring at nothing. She didn’t even know how long she’d been doing that. But finally, her thoughts came together, and she blinked.
What disturbed her more? Knowing that there was a ghost in the house... or knowing that this ghost had been in the bathroom while she showered? She shivered and stood, moving to the half-mirrored wall, similar to the one downstairs in the game room. She stared at her reflection. Her brown hair was drying and beginning to curl at the ends. She’d dressed in a pink shirt and white shorts. Her pale complexion looked that much whiter in contrast with the color of her shirt.
She sighed and straightened her shoulders, still staring at her reflection. “Aaron? If you’re there...” She paused, trying to keep her pulse from pounding crazily in her throat. “If you can hear me...” She took a steady breath. “What do you want from me?”
Elizabeth held her breath for a few seconds, and then shook her head. “What am I doing talking to a ghost? I don’t believe in ghosts. They aren’t real. Someone – either Thomas or Nolan – is playing with my mind.” Tears stung her eyes, so she blinked quickly to dry the liquid.
Suddenly, the scent of a man’s cologne wafted around her and, behind her, the tone from her laptop turning on caught her attention. Using the reflection of the mirror, she shifted her focus to where it sat open on the table. The screen faced the mirror and within seconds, the desktop was visible.
She frowned and moved toward the table. That was odd. She clicked off the laptop and moved toward the bathroom to apply some makeup. She didn’t want to look like death warmed over with her pale face and frightened eyes, especially if Nolan dropped by.
Her laptop beeped again. She spun around and stared at the device. Once again, it flashed the loading screens until it paused at the desktop. After a few seconds, a blank text document opened itself and filled the screen.
Cautiously, Elizabeth moved closer to the laptop. The rhythm of her heartbeat accelerated, and her limbs shook. Her throat grew cotton dry and she licked her suddenly parched lips.
“Aaron?” Her voice croaked, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Aaron? Is that you?”
Letters began to appear on the screen. YES.
She trembled, both inside and out. “Wh-what do you want?”
HELP!
She didn’t dare get too close to her laptop. “Were you murdered, Aaron?”
YES.
She rubbed a shaky hand over her cold face. Or was it just her hand that was cold? “Look, Aaron, I don’t believe in ghosts. In fact, I’m starting to believe that Thomas... or Nolan is behind this.” She took another deep breath. “So just know that I’m not going to fall for your tricks.”
PLEASE... HELP...
She shook her head. “Why me?”
TRUST... PLEASE BELIEVE ME. THERE IS NOBODY ELSE I CAN ASK FOR HELP.
She edged closer to the table and sat down on one of the chairs. “I don’t understand.” Tears stung her eyes again, but all she could do was stare at the computer screen. His plea tugged at her heart, and she felt guilty for not wanting to help. And yet, she did want to help. Why else had she been studying his pictures around the house and on the websites she’d found? Why else had she wanted Nolan to tell her about Aaron’s life? “What are you trying to tell me?” Her mind spun with questions. “Do... you know who killed you?”
NO.
“Do you have any clues at all?”
THOMAS.
She gasped. “You think Thomas killed you?” She rubbed her forehead, trying to put her thoughts together. “Do you think he was jealous that you were the older grandson? Was there a family squabble?”
ASK JETHRO.
“I can do that, but I’ll need an appointm
ent to see him. Thomas doesn’t seem to want to hook us up. I have other questions to ask your grandfather, too.” She shrugged. “But as you might have already noticed, my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend is here. If I try to go talk to Jethro, that good-for-nothing downstairs will try and come with me.”
Sighing, she threaded her fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry, Aaron. I still don’t know how I can help. It’s not like I can just walk up to your grandfather and say, hey, I’ve been talking to your dead grandson... who killed him?” She reached over to the laptop with her finger hovering above the power button. “I’m going to go now. I just don’t... believe.” She clicked it off and shut the lid before any more messages could come through.
Elizabeth hurried into the bathroom and closed the door. The mirror no longer held a trace of the words dump him. But her shallow breathing and trembling limbs kept reminding her that she was still affected by the... whatever it was that was happening to her.
For someone who didn’t believe in ghosts, why had she been chatting with some invisible person who was writing to her on her laptop?
Taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, she calmed her mind. That’s what this was – a mind game. It had to be.
She opened her makeup bag and took out her face powder, but before she could apply it to her face, Sam’s terrified screech rent the air. She dropped the makeup and rushed out of the bathroom, and out of her room. Sam’s heavy footsteps pounded on the stairs. She met him just as he rounded the top of the stairs. His eyes were wide, and his face was whiter than hers.
“Sam, what’s wrong?” She grasped his arms.
“I... I...” He pointed down the stairs. “In the game room.”
“Take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”
His chest rose and fell as his gaze locked with hers. “I was playing pool,” he began slowly. “Then I heard the balls hitting together on the other pool table.” He shook his head. “It was like someone was playing... but I was the only one in the room. They were moving on their own!”
The Magic of a Billionaire Page 5
