Case One ~ The Deceit (Trudy Hicks Ghost Hunter Book 1)

by Lori Zaremba

  “No!”

  He took a step toward her. “Well, then, how about a kiss goodnight?”

  She backed away from him and ran into the nightstand beside the bed. “Ouch! Douglas, you’re fried.” Trying to maintain her composure under the onslaught of emotions that were tugging at her, she didn’t have the strength to do battle.

  He stood before her and lifted his hands to cradle her face. “Actually, my dear Vanessa, I have never been soberer.”

  In a trance, she allowed him to pull her closer so his lips could brush her forehead, her eyes, and her cheek. Finally, he captured her mouth with his. She felt her knees give out, and he gently lifted her onto the bed. Sitting next to her, he pulled the band from her hair, all the while tasting the delicate skin below her ear. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and together they fell back on a pile of satin cushions.

  She looked intensely into his eyes and was overwhelmed by the raw emotion she saw within their depths. She knew he had no more control than she did. Now empowered by the desire that seethed between them, she ran her hands under his shirt to touch the warmth of his skin. Deciding she needed to remove the obstacle, she impatiently tried to unbutton his shirt. With a snarl, he ripped it off and covered her once again with his warmth. His hand undid the sash of her robe and pulled it free to reveal her lush curves to his wandering lips. Desire gripped her, and she soon found him naked between her parted thighs. His gaze held hers as he slowly and gently entered her.

  There was a quick stab of pain then a glorious heat filled her as spasms of unbelievable pleasure rocked her body. Together, they rode the tidal wave of passion, clinging to each other as they crashed carelessly into shore. They smiled tenderly as they reached solid ground.

  Gentle thoughts danced in her head, yet no words could form on her lips.

  Exhausted, she fell into a deep sleep.

  ***

  Vanessa was awakened by the bright afternoon sun slithering through a small opening in the heavy curtains that encased the window. Rolling over and sliding her hand over the recently vacated spot next to her, she smiled with guilty pleasure as she recalled what had transpired between those luxurious sheets. Douglas woke her for a second round of lovemaking that had her blushing from head to toe, remembering every tender kiss and fiery touch.

  Afterward, he declared, “I’m starved.”

  They feasted on a decadent box of Pirika chocolates, a gift from Raul the day before, apples from the fruit basket Monsieur DePaul had delivered to her earlier that morning, and half of the crystal decanter of brandy. Stretching, she thought how well brandy went with sex and chocolate. Yes, there was a round three, then into a blissful sleep. They passed out in each other’s arms, weak with exhaustion and deliciously spent.

  Douglas had slipped from her room an hour or so later.

  She heard the door open, and Connie poked in her head. “Es-yu rèveillè? she called softly.

  “Oui, I am awake. Come in.”

  Connie spoke to someone outside the door before making her way into the bedroom, picking up Vanessa’s discarded gown that was tossed haphazardly over the chair of the vanity.

  “What time is it, Connie?” She sat up on the bed, looking around for her robe, surprised to learn it was after two in the afternoon. “I need coffee,” Vanessa croaked as she slipped from the tangled sheets.

  A few moments later, Connie opened the door to allow a young maid to carry in a tray of coffee and pastries. While she ate a generous slice of strudel and sipped the sweetened coffee, Connie cleared away the box of empty chocolates and lifted the half-empty glasses of brandy with a slightly raised brow.

  “Don’t forget we are going to the opera tonight, Vanessa.”

  Vanessa groaned inwardly as Connie bent over the bathtub to draw her bath. She knew there would be no getting out of going since Connie was so looking forward to it.

  The new plumbing was much more efficient than what was in Vanessa’s own home, and within minutes, the huge tub was filled with warmly scented bubbles that Vanessa sank into gratefully.

  That evening while she dressed, she thought of Douglas and wondered how he was spending his time. Actually, she never really stopped thinking about him, and once again her cheeks burned.

  “Are you ready?” Sheila burst into the room, interrupting Vanessa’s lusty musings.

  She nodded her approval at the simple elegance of Vanessa’s attire. Tonight, she decided on a simple, long, black sheath, which she complemented with her favorite pearls. On her bare arms, she wore long black gloves, and she clasped a stunning pearl cuff on her wrist. From the wardrobe, she chose a white chinchilla stole with a silver satin lining. The effect was stunning.

  They drove into the city in Frederick’s new Ferris Sedan. He and Sheila sat up front, while she and Connie squeezed into the back seat. Connie was silent in her excitement. When they pulled up in front of the Metropolitan Opera House, she let out an uncustomary squeal. The valet opened the door, and she all but jumped out of the tight back seat.

  Frederick had arranged for the best box seats available, and they were quickly escorted to their seats by a fresh-faced usher and brought refreshments by an attendant. Because of their status, no one dared speak of Connie’s presence in the box, even though a sign stated that it was to be whites only in this part of the opera house.

  Vanessa took a bejeweled flask from her reticule and proceeded to fortify the tea with brandy for the ladies. Frederick declined her offer as he pulled out a flask of his own and drank his bourbon right from the bottle.

  Tonight’s opera, Franco Alfano’s La leggenda di Sakùntala, was performed by soprano Maria Telva. It was lovely and quite moving. Vanessa realized Connie had squeezed her arm throughout the performance. When the final chord faded and the house lights came on, Connie finally joined the audience with thunderous applause.

  “Brava! Brava!” she cheered the young soprano, dabbing her eyes with the delicate handkerchief she held in her hand. The usher returned to escort them back to the lobby.

  “Why, Vanessa, look who it is.” Sheila nearly tackled the man in front of her to get to the person she was speaking of, and that person was Douglas.

  “Mr. Thorton, it is so lovely to see you again. Oh, and you too, Miss Frye,” she said to the beautiful woman on his arm. Vanessa realized it was the same brunette he was cozy with last evening. Jealousy immediately reared its ugly head. She felt the heat rise on her cheeks as she nodded briefly to them. Connie elbowed her, and Sheila quickly introduced the couple. Douglas bowed over Connie’s hand, causing her to giggle as she peeked from under her lashes to admire his handsome face.

  “I didn’t realize the opera allowed Negroes to attend during prime hours,” Miss Frye said, ignoring Connie’s polite greeting.

  Frederick had to restrain Vanessa from launching at the twit’s throat. Without another word, he smoothly guided the ladies through the crowd to his waiting car outside. Both Sheila and Vanessa were fuming.

  “You should have let Vanessa crack that gold-digger in the mouth,” Sheila declared.

  “Pipe down, Sheila! Who cares what that skirt says? She is not of any importance.”

  Connie and Vanessa held hands in silence during the ride home.

  “It still was one of the best nights of my life,” Connie said with a smile as they climbed the stairs to their bedrooms. They hugged once they arrived at the landing and bid each other goodnight.

  Chapter 10

  The remaining days passed quickly. The nights, however, were slow and arduous as sleep eluded Vanessa. When she did find a few moments of slumber, Douglas filled her dreams. For the first time in her life, she woke up aching and alone.

  She attended numerous parties with Raul at her side. Douglas was completely absent. She had a chance to speak with Jon DePaul, and when Vanessa asked where Douglas was hiding, he stated that he was working on a critical project for their company.

  Her visit with Sheila and Frederick was coming to a close, as
she and Connie would be spending the rest of their vacation in the city.

  She had just finished packing her cosmetics when Sheila knocked on her door.

  “Look what the cat dragged in, Vanessa.”

  Vanessa almost wept with joy when she saw it was Carlson. Leaping into his outstretched arms, Vanessa had to hold back the tears that threatened to overflow.

  She and Carlson may never have a real marriage, but they did care genuinely about each other.

  “Carlson, I didn’t expect to see you.” Stepping back, she fixed the rumpled collar of his jacket, disturbed by her enthusiastic hug.

  “I’m on my way to Boston, and I thought it would be nice to spend a couple of days with my wife.”

  “How lovely. We are packed and ready to go. I’m over the moon that you will be joining us.”

  They spent the next few days dining, shopping, and sightseeing. At night, they discovered some of the hidden speakeasies around the city. Carlson had to pay dearly for the information and to gain admission.

  The duo spent the night dancing to the best jazz and imbibing forbidden alcohol until the wee hours of the morning. Stumbling into the lobby of the Biltmore arm in arm, they made their way to the elevator.

  “Going up?” A deep voice came from inside.

  Dashing inside before the wrought iron door closed, Vanessa came face to face with none other than Mr. Douglas Thorton.

  “Good morning, Vanessa.” He looked directly into her eyes before curiously nodding to Carlson.

  “Hello, Mr. Thorton.” She spoke with venom in her voice, then remembering her manners, she turned to Carlson. “This is my husband, Carlson Holland.”

  The men exchanged pleasantries while the elevator moaned its way to the top floor.

  With eyebrows raised, Douglas appeared surprised and a bit uncomfortable that they were on the same floor. Vanessa almost choked when Carlson invited him to their room for a nightcap.

  “Please do, Douglas, and then you can explain to me why my wife looks like she wants to commit acts of violence upon your person.”

  “Carlson!” she sputtered and could have knocked Douglas out when he agreed.

  So Vanessa, her husband, and her lover all walked into their hotel suite. Vanessa stomped into the bedroom for a moment of privacy and to change into more comfortable clothing. The men went to the locked cabinet that hid the scotch Carlson brought from his secret supply at home.

  Leaning against the bedroom door while she composed herself and her pulse returned to a reasonable rate, Vanessa took her time, deciding to remove her makeup and brush out her hair. The routine always calmed her. When she finally rejoined them, Douglas and Carlson were laughing jovially, entirely at ease with each other.

  Vanessa once again fumed, trying to shrink them both with her eyes. Carlson handed her a neat scotch, and she settled onto a small satin sofa that faced two wing-back chairs that she knew the men would prefer. A delicate coffee table was placed in the center, and not caring, she rested her aching feet on its smooth top.

  Carlson grinned wickedly at her, giving her wide-leg pajama pants and matching loose-fitting shirt a once-over. “Vanessa, that outfit is quite depressing.”

  She shrugged and stuck her tongue out at him.

  “So, sweetheart, please tell me why you dislike Douglas so much.”

  “I don’t dislike him,” she said without thought. “I can’t tolerate the company he keeps.” Looking directly into Douglas’s now-wary eyes, she explained to Carlson what had transpired the other evening at the opera house, then let Douglas tell his part of the story.

  “Miss Frye’s father has invested quite a bit of money in the project my company is organizing. He had asked me to escort her to the opera as a favor, and I obliged.” He leaned forward, his voice sincere. “Vanessa, I had no idea that she was such a mean-spirited twit.” He slumped back in his chair and sighed. “That was the most awkward night of my life. I almost wished Frederick hadn’t held you back so you could have walloped her.”

  A few moments ticked by before Vanessa finally smiled kindly at him. “I’ll tell you what, Douglas. If you tell me that you like my outfit, I will forgive you for all your sins.”

  The look on his face was so priceless that Carlson let out a shout of laughter, and before long, the three of them were rolling with merriment.

  Vanessa relaxed and decided perhaps the situation wasn’t that weird. Maybe women shared lively conversations with their sexy lovers and homosexual husbands all the time. Douglas did toss a few questioning looks her way, and Carlson pretended he didn’t notice. They talked for hours.

  Douglas finally spoke about his life in London, his wife Abigail, and their two daughters. Martha, the eldest, was seven, and Madeline was five. The way he spoke, it sounded like a fairytale.

  Before she could stop herself, Vanessa was asking why his wife hated him as he mentioned the first night they met. The air left the room as Douglas leaned forward with his head hung. Carlson gave her a scolding glare.

  “We had a son,” he began and cleared his throat. “His name was Dennis, after Abby’s grandfather.” He stood and walked to the large picture window and stared blindly at the empty city below. “We finally moved into my family’s country home last year, when Dennis was half past three.”

  “We had the house renovated from top to bottom.” Douglas paused. “Everything but one damn latch on a window of the third floor.” His chest heaved as he took a moment to steady his nerves. “Abby nagged me about that window for months, and I promised to fix it myself.” His voice was just a bit above a whisper as he continued. “Abby had put the children down for a nap, but instead of napping, unbeknown to their mother, they decided to sneak up to the third floor to play a game of hide and go seek. They searched all over for Dennis. Finally, the frightened girls came and got their mother, and when Abby saw that window wide open, she feared the worst.” Douglas’s voice broke as he tried to speak about what happened next.

  Vanessa went to him to give comfort.

  “Just like that, he was gone.”

  She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and squeezed. “I am so sorry for your loss.”

  He gave her hand a gentle pat and pulled away to refill his empty glass. “Abby can’t find it in her heart to forgive me.”

  “She will,” Vanessa and Carlson said at the same time. Vanessa’s heart was breaking for him.

  “My little brother died in a similar fashion.” Carlson finished the alcohol in his glass. “He was six, and I don’t think my mother has ever gotten over it.”

  This news surprised Vanessa because it was the first time he ever mentioned he had a brother. He said his parents were not right for a long time. Something in his eyes told Vanessa that Carlson still wasn’t all right either. She decided she would ask him about it at another time, as he didn’t seem to want to offer any more information about it tonight.

  Feeling relieved when the conversation turned toward business, Vanessa relaxed and found herself nodding off. When she awoke, both Carlson and Douglas were passed out.

  She tiptoed over to where Douglas slumped awkwardly in his chair. She whispered for him to wake up so he could go to his bed. Without opening his eyes, he reached up and pulled her close, and his lips found hers, his way of letting her know that what they shared was not forgotten. He released her and allowed her to help him to his feet. He glanced over at Carlson, who was still fast asleep, and they walked to the door.

  He pulled her even closer. “I am sorry I aired my laundry to the two of you.”

  She wrapped her arms about his waist and told him, “That’s what friends are for.”

  His lips covered hers again before opening the door. Douglas studied her and wore a tight smile that was devoid of any joy.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. I don’t think I can just be your friend.” He winked suggestively before turning away and strolling down the hall to his own suite.

  She watched him until he disappeared into his room.
r />   ***

  It was late afternoon when Carlson was finally packed up and ready to depart for his trip to Boston.

  Hugging Vanessa close, he whispered in her ear, “You have my blessing.”

  Confused, she said, “Blessing?” Her eyes searched his. “For what?”

  “I see the chemistry between you and Douglas, so you have my blessing to make a baby with him.”

  She stared at him thoughtfully, considering his words as little seeds of excitement planted among those of extreme doubt.

  “Carlson, isn’t he is too dark?”

  “He looks like my father when he was a young man.” He kissed her cheek and promised her no one would question it. “I like him. He’s a good man, and he will produce a fine son.” He slipped on his overcoat and grabbed his fedora from a hook on the door. “Douglas will eventually return to England and never suspect a thing.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Vanessa squeaked.

  “Don’t think too long,” Carlson teased with a shameless glint in his eyes. Looking at her somberly, he cradled her cheeks in his palms. “Just don’t fall in love, sweet Vanessa.”

  After he left, she gave it much thought, pacing in front of the picture window with the busy city far below.

  Later, she decided would take matters into her own hands and went to her wardrobe and dug out a short, lacy chemise she had purchased the day before and slid on stockings and snapped the garter belt in place.

  Slipping on a pair of strappy high heels and reaching for a loose dress, Vanessa instead saw the long mink cape that was a gift from Carlson. With a wicked smile, she slipped it on over the garment and headed out the door. She strutted down the hall and knocked on the door to Douglas’s room.

  It took him a few minutes to open the door, and when he did, all he was wearing was a towel around his hips, his muscular body still dripping wet from his bath.

  “Vanessa?” He looked past her and down the hallway. “Where’s Carlson?”