by Lynn LaFleur
And disappeared.
Legs suddenly weak, Alaina dropped down on the window seat, her gaze still glued to the spot where the woman had appeared and disappeared. She thought about yelling for Rye, but didn’t know what to tell him. She didn’t believe in ghosts, but she’d seen something. She’d felt cold air wash over her three times in the turret. That hadn’t happened in any other room of the house.
“Hey, Alaina,” Dax yelled up the stairs. “Bella Olinghouse is here to see you.”
She heard Dax, yet couldn’t find the strength in her legs to stand. Several moments passed before she heard footsteps hurrying up the stairs. Dax stuck his head around the edge of the door. “Alaina?”
His eyes widened when he saw her. He hurried into the room. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I…got too hot, I guess.”
He squatted before her and peered into her face. “Your face would be red if you got too hot. You’re white, as if you saw a ghost.”
She almost laughed at his choice of words. “I just need a break from the sanding.”
“Good timing then, ‘cause Bella Olinghouse is here to see you.”
Alaina frowned. She didn’t have a clue why Bella would be here. “Did she say why?”
Dax shook his head. “Nope. Just that she had something for you.” He stood and held out a hand to help her stand. Luckily, her legs didn’t buckle this time. She must’ve still looked like hell, for Dax’s concerned expression didn’t disappear.
“Maybe you should stay downstairs for a while and cool off.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that, after I talk to Bella.”
“I’ll go down the stairs first, in case I have to catch you.”
She almost said her legs weren’t that weak, but decided Dax going first might not be a bad idea.
Alaina found Bella Olinghouse standing in the foyer. Despite the warmth of the day and the dirt flying everywhere, she looked cool and perfect in an ice blue suit. She held what looked like a leather scrapbook. “Good morning, Mrs. Olinghouse.”
She inclined her head an inch. “Ms. May.”
“How can I help you?”
Bella lifted the scrapbook. “I have something to show you. Is there a place where we can sit down?”
“Yes, we have a table and folding chairs set up in the dining room.”
She led the way to the dining room, which thankfully looked clean. The guys were usually good about picking up after themselves. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you. I won’t be here long.”
Bella looked at the chair seat, which didn’t surprise Alaina. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the woman took a snowy handkerchief out of her little blue purse that matched her suit and wiped off the seat.
Once Bella sat, Alaina took the chair opposite her. Bella set the book on the table and pushed it toward Alaina. “My granddaughter put this together several years ago. It contains some old pictures of this house. I thought you might like to look at them while you’re remodeling.”
Speechless at Bella’s generosity, Alaina didn’t know what to say for a few seconds. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”
“I would like to have the book back when you’re finished with it.”
“Of course.” She lifted the cover and gasped. The first picture in the book filled the entire page and had been taken of the front of the house. A small caption in the right corner said 1902. “This is wonderful.”
“They’re all black and white, of course, and some are very grainy. There aren’t very many. People didn’t take pictures back then the way they do now. But they’ll give you an idea of how the house looked when it was first built.” She glanced around the room, sadness in her eyes. “It was a wonderful place to grow up. My mother made sure everything was always spotless.” She released a small laugh that held no humor. “Of course, my father would not have had it any other way.” She looked down a moment and straightened the top button of her suit. “You may keep the book as long as you’d like.”
“I appreciate that.”
Bella cleared her throat. “I have other errands to run.”
“Of course.”
Alaina closed the book and followed Bella to the front door. Rye walked through the same time they reached the entrance. “Mrs. Olinghouse. Hello.”
“Mr. Coleman.”
He looked from her to Alaina and back again. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine. I brought something to Ms. May I thought might help her. Now I really must leave. Charles is waiting for me.”
“Have a wonderful evening, Mrs. Olinghouse,” Alaina said. “And thank you again.”
Alaina watched a man in his sixties hurry forward to guide Bella down the rickety steps. He held her arm to the car and helped her into the backseat. “I gather that’s Charles.”
“He’s her driver and has been for years.” Rye turned his attention from Bella to Alaina. “What did she bring to you?”
“A scrapbook. Oh, Rye, you have to see it. It has pictures of this house when it was new. They’re all black and white so there’s no help with colors, but I know Dax will help me with those.”
“Speaking of Dax, he told me you looked like you were about to pass out in the turret.”
She hadn’t decided whether or not to say anything to Rye about her vision, so thought it would be better to gloss over her weakness. “Dax exaggerates. I just got a little too hot. I’m fine.”
“To be sure you stay fine, why don’t you take a break and have something cold to drink?”
“Can you join me and look at Bella’s scrapbook?”
He glanced at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet Griff at the mayor’s house in fifteen minutes. I’ll look at it with you tonight, okay?” He ran his fingers up and down her arm. “Rest a while. I’ll be back later and take you out to supper.”
“Okay.”
Eager to study the prize Bella had brought her, Alaina hurried back to the dining room. Preparing a tall glass of iced tea, she sat at the table and opened the book again.
It was an older scrapbook with the kind of adhesive pages that stuck to the pictures. Alaina wondered if Bella would let her take the book apart, copy the pictures, and then put them back in a more modern scrapbook without the adhesive pages. She carefully turned the page to see more pictures of the outside of the house, both front and back. A young girl, maybe eleven, stood next to a boy about seven or eight years old in the next picture. Writing beneath the picture said, Bella and Patrick, July 4, 1932.
Alaina slowly turned the pages as she sipped her tea. She assumed Bella’s granddaughter had carefully written beneath each picture. Most of the pictures were of Bella and Patrick. One taken in the kitchen with Bella and her mother—according to the caption—clearly showed the cabinets and sink area. Emma would freak when she saw the picture.
She turned another few pages before a blank spot jumped out at her. A picture had been removed, the caption beneath covered with Liquid Paper. The white ink looked cracked, as if it had been used a while ago.
Curiosity gnawed at her. She couldn’t help wondering what picture had been removed, and what the caption said. She carefully pulled back the adhesive sheet. She hesitated, knowing she was invading Bella’s privacy. There was a reason someone had removed a picture and covered the caption. Alaina felt as if there was a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, one saying to go for it and the other saying she shouldn’t.
The devil won.
Using her thumbnail, she lightly scratched at the white ink from left to right until it began to crumble. Letters slowly appeared. Once all the ink had been removed, Alaina brushed it aside and read the caption.
Patrick and his tutor, Laura Cummins, April 1937.
Chills raced up and down her spine. The missing picture had been taken a few days before Laura had been murdered in this house. Someone had removed it from the album and covered up the caption so no one could read it. Who? Alain
a wondered. Bella? Or someone else?
She looked up at the ceiling and thought about the vision she’d seen earlier. Even though she knew the thought was crazy, she wondered if that had been Laura’s ghost trying to communicate with her. She wished the vision had been clearer, that she could’ve made out more of the features. Then she’d know if Laura’s ghost actually existed in the turret.
The only way for her to know for sure was to keep working in that area. She didn’t have time today since Rye would return soon and they’d leave. First thing in the morning, she’d go back to the turret to work. Perhaps Laura—or whomever—would decide to pay her another visit.
Chapter Twelve
April 23, 1937
Laura wouldn’t answer me when I asked how her tutoring session went with Patrick today. She mumbled something that sounded like “fine” and hurried to our bedroom. I almost followed her, but stopped when she closed the door. It wasn’t like Laura to shut me out like that. Something is obviously bothering her.
I tried to talk to her after supper while we were doing the dishes. She insisted nothing was wrong. I know better. Something happened today, something that had nothing to do with Patrick’s tutoring.
*
Alaina looked over her shoulder for what must have been the twentieth time since she’d started sanding on the window seat two hours ago. There’d been no visions, no cold air flowing over her, no sign at all of a ghostly figure.
She’d almost told Rye what she’d seen while they lay in his bed after making love last night. After debating with herself for several minutes, she’d decided not to say anything. The whole idea of seeing a ghost sounded crazy to her. She knew Rye would feel the same way. He’d already told her he’d never heard any stories of people seeing a ghost in Stevens House.
Their relationship was so new and fragile. She didn’t want to do anything to mess it up.
Footsteps drew her attention back to the present. Rye came in the room, followed by a forty-something dark-haired man. Alaina laid down her sanding tool and stood.
“Alaina, this is Vince Seago. He’s my glazer. Now that he’s through at the mayor’s house, he can take the measurements to make your new windows.”
Vince smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Alaina.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.”
“I’ll show Vince around up here, then we’ll move through the rest of the house. We’ll be out of your way in a few minutes.”
“No problem. I’m ready for a break anyway.”
Rye ran his hand over the area she’d just sanded. “Nice. You’re doing a really good job, Alaina.”
His praise meant a lot to her. “Thanks.”
Rye winked, then turned his attention back to Vince.
Picking up her bottle of water, Alaina stepped outside the turret and into the hallway. Jerry, Reuben and Rory had started putting up the two-by-fours yesterday to mark where the new rooms would be. It would be a while longer before any sheetrock went up, but she now had a better idea of the size of the rooms.
There was months of work to do, yet with each day that passed, she came closer to achieving her dream.
Alaina sat down and leaned against the wall. She lifted the bottle to her lips for a drink when cold air washed over her. She quickly swallowed before she choked. Gaze darting around the area, she stood and looked in every corner for a sign of the vision she’d seen yesterday.
Rye and Vince came out of the turret. Rye gave her another wink as they passed. She tried to look as normal as possible so she wouldn’t draw his suspicion, although everything inside her tightened in anticipation of seeing the ghost.
Once the men had left the area, Alaina searched again for the vision. It began to form at the entrance to the turret.
Alaina stood still, barely breathing. The image was transparent, as yesterday, but with more shape. She could make out the short-sleeved blue dress and buckle shoes. Facial features slowly filled in—eyes, nose, mouth, chin. Once the brown hair appeared, Alaina had no doubt who stood before her.
Laura Cummins.
“Do you want something from me?” Alaina whispered.
The expression on Laura’s face seemed to be a combination of pleasure and pain. Eyes closed, she clenched her fists in front of her chest. Alaina didn’t know if Laura didn’t want to appear, or was fighting like hell to appear.
“Can I help you?”
Laura opened her eyes. She stared at her hands as she slowly unclenched her fists, almost as if she couldn’t believe she could see them. Alaina took a step closer to her. “Is there something I can do for you?”
Laura looked at Alaina. She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. Frowning, she opened her mouth again as if to speak. Nothing.
“It’s okay,” Alaina said. “You don’t have to speak for me to help you. What can I do?”
Motioning for Alaina to follow her, Laura glided into the turret. Alaina swallowed hard, then did as Laura requested. The vision stopped in front of the window seat, at a section Alaina hadn’t sanded yet. She pointed to the seat.
“You want me to sit down?”
Still frowning, Laura shook her head. She held up her hands about twelve inches apart, then widened them to eighteen inches apart and pointed to the seat again.
“Is there something inside the window seat?”
Laura nodded vigorously. Alaina had already checked inside the seats and hadn’t found anything except a lot of dirt and animal droppings. She didn’t want to think about what kind of animals had left their mark. “I’ve looked in the seats and didn’t find anything.”
Laura held up her hands again, drew the imaginary box in the air and pointed to the seat. Then she disappeared.
Apparently, Laura wanted Alaina to look in the window seat for some kind of box. Setting her bottle of water on the floor, Alaina opened the three sections of the seat and peered inside. Nothing. She’d already vacuumed out the dirt and droppings, leaving the area empty.
I don’t know what you want me to find, Laura.
Alaina dropped to her knees and looked inside the sections again. As she studied them for a third time, she noticed the floor of the middle section seemed to be about three inches higher than the ones on the ends. The section was about twenty inches wide and thirty inches long, so would easily hold something twelve-by-eighteen if that item was thin.
She needed some kind of tool to pry up the floor, like a screwdriver. She knew Jerry and Reuben were working on the west side of the attic. She could get a screwdriver from one of them.
Tool in hand, Alaina knelt before the seat and slipped the blade beneath the floor. It took several tries, but finally the false bottom came loose to expose a flat, thin item wrapped in burlap.
Heart pounding and palms sweating, Alaina lifted the item out of the seat and carefully unwrapped it. An oil painting lay inside the burlap. She recognized the landscape as an area close to the river that ran through Lanville, an area that was now a park where locals and tourists enjoyed the cool breezes on a hot summer day.
Delighted with her discovery, Alaina held the painting at arms’ length to see it better. She’d have it framed to hang somewhere in the house so her guests could enjoy it.
She was so involved with looking at the painting that she didn’t hear Rye behind her until he spoke. “What’s that?”
She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Oh, Rye, isn’t this painting wonderful? I found it in the window seat beneath a hidden compartment.”
Rye squatted next to her. “There’s a hidden compartment in the window seat? How did you find it?”
Unsure how to tell him about Laura, she shrugged. “Just lucky.”
“Do you want to hang it in the house? I can have it framed for you the next time I go for supplies.”
“Really? That would be perfect.” She gave him a soft kiss. “Thank you.”
A hint of mischief filled his eyes. “I’ll want more than a kiss for such a huge favor.”
She loved it w
hen he teased her this way. “That can be arranged.”
He slid his finger down her arm, which raised goose bumps on her skin. Her reaction must have pleased him for he smiled. “I’m going downstairs to help Vince get the rest of the window measurements.”
“Okay.”
Alaina returned to examining the painting after Rye left. She was happy to have found it, but also sad. Now that she had what Laura wanted her to find, there would be no reason for the ghost to appear again.
*
When Alaina told Rye she wanted to leave an hour early, he had no problem with that. He figured she had shopping to do, or some other “girl” thing, so volunteered to pick up their supper on his way home. Her thank-you kiss had all the blood in his body rushing south to fill his cock.
Sex had never been sweeter or more intense than with Alaina. Since Rye usually found his lovers outside Lanville, he never had a woman spend the night with him. He liked waking up with Alaina in his bed. He liked that warmth, that feeling of contentment he experienced when he reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist. She’d always come willingly when he tugged her closer.
As each day passed, he cared more about her. He liked to see her happy, like today when she’d found that painting in the turret. She’d been so excited and eager to hang it in her house. Her eyes had sparkled with excitement at his offer to have it framed for her. The offer had been spontaneous, but he’d meant it. He wanted to do whatever he could to make her happy.
Rye walked in the back door of his house and set down the takeout containers long enough to slip off his work boots. He padded into the kitchen to find Alaina setting the table. She must not have heard him come in, which gave him the chance to study her. She’d made good use of her extra time by showering. Her hair flowed over her shoulders in a riot of curls. She wore a tiny cropped T-shirt and a pair of low-riding denim shorts that exposed several inches of her stomach. He didn’t know if she wore panties, but she obviously didn’t wear a bra. Her breasts shifted with her movements, her nipples pushed against the soft cotton.
She walked to the refrigerator. His cock went from semi-hard to full-blown erection at the sight of her ass swaying in those tight shorts. He could have her naked and be buried inside her sweet pussy in four seconds.
