“Oh my God, Oscar.” Teddy’s hand whipped out and grabbed his arm tightly. “Look.”
He lifted his gaze to where she pointed—to the top of the lighthouse.
There it was: the mass of some amorphous entity, glowing bright lime green against the night sky. It was floating near the dark lighthouse cap.
Ten
“We’ve got to go up there,” Teddy said, even as apprehension stabbed her in the gut.
“No we don’t,” Oscar said in a tone that bespoke finality. But he was standing there, staring up at the glowing green thing as if part of him needed to.
Teddy wanted to go up there and check it out, but at the same time, she really didn’t. So there was no reason to argue.
Instead, they both stared up at the display. She edged closer to him—partly because she was a little chilly now, standing in a wet bikini with the wind from the lake and no sun, and partly because it felt good when his arm came around her and she nestled against his solid, warm body.
The entity floated on the west-southwest side of the gallery that ran around the top of the lighthouse. It was lower than she remembered it being the last time, closer to the trees and not as near the railing.
Eerie, translucent, glowing lime green, and it billowed and shifted like a cloud as if moving with the wind. It didn’t seem to want to form any particular shape, like many ghosts did—at least, from what Teddy remembered from books and movies—but it wasn’t stagnant.
Then it began to expand, growing to a larger diameter. It frothed and undulated and roiled like an angry neon storm cloud as a sharp, agonized scream filled the air.
Teddy jolted, grabbing for Oscar’s arm, as the hair on the back of her neck and everywhere on her body shot straight up. The scream filled her ears, and the malevolent green cloud roiled against the dark, skeletal tree branches…and then, all at once, it was gone.
And the world was silent.
They stood there for a moment. Teddy could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears and the rasp of her own breathing. She was aware of the tension vibrating along Oscar’s arm, which had pulled her tight against him.
“Okay,” she said finally. “Okay.”
He released her. Continuing to look up at the dark silhouette of the lighthouse against the starry sky, he said, “It was early tonight. It came early.”
Teddy blinked. “You’re right. It’s always been at one thirty. I wonder why.”
“So do I.”
His voice was quiet, and the underlying calm in his tone told her that Oscar had accepted the fact that there was a supernatural presence here.
“It looked different. Than before,” she said. “So. What do we do now?”
He looked at her with surprise. “You’re asking me? Aren’t you usually the one with the plan?” There was a note of affectionate teasing in his words, and the way he looked at her made Teddy feel warm again. “But since you did, I think the best idea is to try and get some sleep. And tomorrow morning—when it’s light—we can go up and check out the lighthouse again.”
For once, she was ready to relinquish control. It had been an exhausting week, and an emotional rollercoaster of an evening. “Yes. Let’s do that. In the light. And we can try to find out more about Stuart Millore tomorrow, too.”
Oscar unlocked the front door to the cottage and pushed it open. After reaching in to turn on the light, he stepped back so Teddy could enter first.
Exhaustion hit her. She just wanted to be prone. In her bed.
Not necessarily alone, however.
She turned to him as he came through the door, and, looking up into his shadowy face, she stepped into his embrace. To her relief and pleasure, his arms slipped around her right away and he dipped his head to kiss her gently on the mouth.
“Are you all right in your side of the cottage alone?” he asked, pulling back to look at her. “You’re welcome to stay over here—there’s room for two in my bed, or I can sleep on the floor or the couch.” He smiled softly, indicating the choice was completely hers and he was fine either way.
“I think—”
“Oh my God.” He shoved her aside then darted past, his attention suddenly fixed on something behind her.
Teddy spun around to see chaos. “Oh my God, Oscar.”
His very organized lab setup was no longer neat as a pin. His chair was upended, a computer screen was turned over, and bottles and slides and petri dishes were strewn all over the floor. Some were intact, some broken. The door to his mini fridge sagged open, and his computer was tipped over. The packet of plastic gloves had been torn open and the pieces strewn all over. The empty gloves looked like ghostly white hands.
But the thing that made her heart stop and her breathing go shallow was the angry red lettering on the wall:
* * *
GO AWAYYYYYY
* * *
“Stay here,” he said. “Call the police. I’m going to check my bedroom to see if anything else—”
But Teddy had already flung open the connecting door. “My laptop,” she cried, sprinting toward her bedroom.
Her room was in similar disarray: the bedclothes torn off, the curtains and window shade off-kilter, the desk chair on its side.
“Nooooo.” She sank to the floor next to her laptop. The screen was smashed and all the cords had been yanked free, including that of the full-size keyboard she used.
“Teddy.” Oscar’s voice held shock and horror. He crouched next to her, settling a comforting hand on the back of her shoulders, rubbing gently. “I’m so sorry. Maybe the screen can be fixed. As long as the rest of the—oh.”
She showed him the back of the bottom of the laptop: it had been smashed on that side as well. Struggling with anger and grief, she pulled to her feet, cradling the murdered device.
“Who would do this?” she said, looking around with eyes that no longer saw clearly. Furious tears pooled, glazing her view. “Who?”
“I don’t know.” Oscar hugged her close as he dialed his phone one-handed. “I’d like to report a break-in and vandalism at Stony Cape Keeper’s Cottage,” he said.
When he hung up, he drew Teddy close into his arms. Still hugging her laptop, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.
She knew he was talking about the computer and the book she’d just finished. “I’ll need a new laptop,” she said with a pained laugh. “Thank God I backed up the manuscript to a jump drive.”
He tensed, then relaxed and pulled away to look at her. “You did? Oh, thank God.” He sounded as relieved as she felt. “I thought… I was afraid you’d have to start all over.”
Her heart swelled at the absolute truth in his voice. “I always do. Every day. It’s one of the few things I’m a little OCD about. I back it up, remove the flash drive, and put it in my purse—because what if there’s a fire? Or I’m in my car with the laptop and get in an accident, and the computer is smashed? There are a million and one things that can happen. When I’m at home, I also back up to the cloud, but because of no Wi-Fi here, I had to settle for a flash drive. Which— Wait a minute.”
She pulled away. “This had to have happened while we were at the pool. Just within the last couple of hours.”
“I know.” He took her hand, and she felt the comfort of it—for she’d just realized that it was only by chance they’d come back to the cottage and missed the vandal.
Or whoever—whatever—it had been. She shivered.
If they’d come back any earlier…
As if reading her mind, he squeezed her hand.
“Let’s go back to the other side and wait for the police.”
The next morning, Oscar woke to a light rain pattering on the roof of the cottage and Teddy curled up to him in his bed. She was warm and soft, and she smelled delicious. Her thick hair tumbled over the pillow like a dark cloud, and he reached out to finger a thick lock of it as he looked out at the drab morning.
Teddy slept with her mouth slightl
y open, emitting a delicate snore that made him smile affectionately. Even in her sleep, the woman doesn’t close her mouth.
One arm was tucked beneath her chin, and the other draped over his waist. Their feet touched, with hers settled on top of his.
It was the mingling of their feet that struck him the most. It felt so natural. And comfortable.
Unfortunately, they were both fully clothed—and had been since they crashed onto his bed after the police (Joe Cap had answered the call) left late last night. She’d pulled a light blanket over both of them, covering up herself and the tank top and shorts she’d changed into after taking off her wet bikini, then slipped into an exhausted sleep while Oscar lay there for a while, just holding her and thinking about everything that had happened.
Now, with a pang of regret and a bark of disappointment from his hormones, Oscar eased away from his bedmate. Much as he would have liked to kiss her face, so slack and pretty in repose—and more—he decided it was best to seek a cold shower instead.
When he got out of the shower, he smelled coffee from the kitchen. Dressed and groomed, he came out to find Teddy sipping from a mug, looking at the mess his makeshift lab had become.
“I’ll help you clean up,” she told him. Her hair was a wild mass spilling over her shoulders, and her eyes were a little puffy from lack of sleep. She was still wearing that little black tank top and a pair of boxer shorts, and he fought with himself over whether he should suggest she change clothing. His hormones won.
She gave him a wry smile as she began to straighten up the bottles that had been tipped over. “We’ll salvage what we can. Then maybe we can go get me a new laptop. That is, after we go into town to make our official report. I almost forgot about that.”
He agreed, and they set to work to the tune of James Blunt (her choice) mixed with Ray LaMontagne (his). Both artists seemed about right for a dreary, rainy day of cleaning up.
“It’s bad enough they—he—it—had to mess up the place. But to use paint?” she said, scowling at the red writing on the wall. The graffiti even spilled onto an amateurish painting of a lighthouse that hung above the sofa. “As if that would scare us away.” She gestured with the spray-paint can, which had been left on the floor. Red paint had dripped from it, reminding him unpleasantly of blood.
Oscar eyed her with interest. “Knowing that someone broke in and scrawled ‘Go Awayyyy’ on the wall doesn’t make you the least bit nervous and want to leave?”
“Well, a little. But mostly it makes me want to know why they want us to leave. Doesn’t it you?”
He sighed as he stacked a few petri dishes. “Yes, dammit, now that you mention it. Of course it does. But I’m also concerned about safety. Yours, in particular.”
“Yeah, I know. Me too. Yours, I mean.” She gave him a cheeky grin, and he bit back a smile.
“And did you just say ‘it’ a minute ago?”
Rising from sweeping glass into a dustpan, she shrugged. “Well, it might have been the ghost. I mean, after last night, Oscar, you can’t deny there’s a ghost here.”
He muttered to himself and turned back to picking up test tubes—the ones that hadn’t been smashed, anyway.
“Come on, Oscar,” she said. “Admit it. We saw the ghost.”
“Fine. There might be a ghost, but I’m certain it wasn’t a phantom that caused this sort of destruction and smashed your laptop.”
“How do you know? Ethan told us at Trib’s that when Diana’s aunt was haunting them, she tossed things around in the kitchen. Same thing.” Teddy spread her hands to indicate the disaster in the living room.
Oscar didn’t respond. He wasn’t entirely certain whether he’d prefer it to be a ghost or a mortal who’d done all of this.
Then, suddenly, he had an answer. “A ghost doesn’t need to wear gloves,” he said, snatching up a rubber glove that had been left slumped on the floor. “Look. It’s got spray paint on it—dribbled all over it, probably leaked from the can. You can see, if he was holding the can while wearing the glove—see the paint would have spilled just like this.”
Teddy came over to examine it. “I’m impressed, Dr. London. Good eyes on you. Well, we can bring that and this”—she pointed to the spray paint—“when we go in to file the report. I’ll put them in a plastic bag—like a real evidence bag!” she added with a grin.
Oscar rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back a smile. Only a writer would be excited about having to use an evidence bag.
“Speaking of which, I know Captain Longbow looked around outside last night, but he might have missed something in the dark. We should take a look.” She glanced outside. “Now, before it starts raining any harder. If there’s anything to see, the rain will obliterate any tracks.”
“Good point. By the time he or Officer van Hest come back to look around in the light, it could be gone,” Oscar replied. He couldn’t resist: the idea of playing detective put an enthusiastic glint in Teddy’s eyes.
Again, he thought, what a strange and interesting woman she was, and followed her outside. Fortunately, the rain was still soft and quite pleasant.
Oscar made a quick circuit of the parking area, which was dirt sprinkled with gravel and probably wouldn’t show much in the way of tire tracks. But if there were tracks, that would tell them how the invaders had arrived.
As he finished his perusal, he commented, “Joe Cap said he saw no evidence of a forced lock or door, but—”
“Footprints!” Teddy squealed. Oblivious to the little drips running down her face, she was standing near the exterior door to the lighthouse—a door that, to his knowledge, neither of them had used. “Right along the side of the building here. Because of the overhang, the rain hasn’t gotten to it yet. Maybe he came from the beach!”
Crouched on the ground, she was busy snapping pictures with her flip phone. “It looks like a boot of some sort—a hiking boot, not a cowboy boot like Captain Longbow was wearing. And it’s too small to be yours,” she added, looking down at his large feet as he walked up next to her.
“Let’s take a look at the beach,” he suggested, wishing he’d brought an umbrella. His hair was dripping in his face, and he had to keep pushing back that one annoying lock that always fell forward.
Teddy agreed, and shot to her feet so quickly that she nearly clocked him on the chin with her head. He grabbed her by the arm to steady her, and they started off through the knee-high, blade-like grass that grew in the sandy ground separating the sod and dirt from the expansive beach. The hollow, circular reeds were damp and sharp, and water sprinkled all over his jeans as he pushed through them.
Again, Teddy seemed unconcerned about the dribbles of rain. She even took off her sandals once she reached the edge of the water, holding them in her hand. “I can’t believe I haven’t walked down to the beach more than once since I got here,” she said, looking out over Lake Michigan. “I’m pitiful.”
Despite the rain, the huge body of water was relatively calm today, sending little waves curling onto the beach around her toes—which, he noticed again, had bright pink toenails. But in the distance, dark clouds were gathering. More rain would be coming—and soon.
“Well, you’ve been a little busy,” he said. “And I haven’t come down here much either. It’s such a nice view from the porch, and then I don’t get sand in my shoes—like I am now. Plus we’re getting wet.”
“It’s just a little bit of rain,” she said, smiling at him in that way of hers that made her dimples dance. “And it’s summer, so it’s not even cold.” A little droplet clung to her lashes, and another one drifted down her cheek. It looked like a tear.
He brushed it away, and their eyes met as his fingers curved under her chin. Oscar felt his heart give a good, hard ka-thump, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.
He just…fell.
“I really like you, Oscar,” she said after a moment, sounding a little shaky. She reached up to tuck back that annoying curl that fell onto his forehead. Though the gentle
rain muted his vision, he saw the way her blue eyes softened.
“I really like you, too, Teddy,” he replied, then bent to kiss her gently. When he pulled her into his arms, the rain didn’t matter at all.
A boom of thunder in the distance had them breaking apart, but she grabbed his hand when he would have pulled away. “We’d better finish looking around before the sky opens up. It looks pretty nasty out there.”
She tugged him along the beach—what she was looking for, he didn’t know. But he did know he liked the feel of her hand in his.
“I don’t see anything— Wait. What’s this?” He released her in order to crouch over the deep crease in the sand, stretching vertically from the water. There were footprints on one side of it. “Looks like they had a boat here—they look like the same footprints.”
“They sure do,” she agreed. “That’s how they came. By boat.”
Oscar looked out over the water. He couldn’t help remember the blue and green forty-footer he’d seen that first night—and the men dropping something overboard.
It didn’t take a genius—or the Coast Guard or Joe Cap, or even a thriller writer—to know it could be something as ugly as the part of a body…or some other package that a colleague would pick up later.
Teddy must have been reading his mind, because she said, “Remember that boat the night we were trapped up on the lighthouse? You saw them drop something over the side—right out there.”
“I know. I told Joe Cap—er, Longbow—about it the other night at the beer tasting. He said he’d look into it.”
“It was probably drugs,” Teddy said, that enthusiasm back in her voice. “I mean, what else would it be?”
Oscar couldn’t help but laugh. He caught her hand again and swung it between them as he looked at her. “It could be any number of things. Probably trash, to be honest.”
“Or a body,” she said, those eyes sparkling with excitement, raindrops on her lashes.
Sinister Sanctuary Page 15
