The house is a big, two-story colonial. It looked more than a little run-down, but that was what Uncle Mike and Aunt Rita loved about it. They bought distressed properties, moved in, and redid everything from the top to the bottom. They’d done this with several other houses in the past, all of which sold for up to five times the amount they paid for them.
I reached the front door, but before I could knock, Aunt Rita had the door opened and was giving me a big hug.
“Hi, sweetie,” she said, laughing. “Your mom said you just pulled in. What do you think of the house?”
“It’s fantastic,” I told her, returning her hug.
She ushered me in through the immense foyer and into a large parlor, where the members of the coven were talking and laughing. My mom disengaged herself from a small group and came over to me, pulling me into her arms.
“You made it,” she said, smiling. “How did the crystals work for you today?”
“They were perfect,” I told her, returning her smile. “I didn’t have any problems at all with the mines.”
I didn’t want to tell her about the bat. Mom and Dad had a tendency to relate all of my misadventures to the members of the coven, and that always led to the retelling of more embarrassing moments of my childhood and teenage years. Most of the coven had known my family since I was a baby. I had a lot of “Aunts” and “Uncles” among its members. However, there were also quite a few new members, and I really didn’t want my life, up to this point, laid bare to people I considered strangers even though my parents didn’t.
I received hugs and kisses from those who knew me well, and introductions to those I’d had yet to meet. I thought we had everyone covered, but Mom and Aunt Rita led me into the dining room where another group was chatting and helping themselves to the appetizers. I greeted everyone with hugs and kisses. These people were the food-minglers—the ones you always found hovering around whatever their host laid out for snacks. I was about to turn and head back into the parlor when Mom and Aunt Rita stopped me.
“Wait, Rommy, you haven’t met Anthony,” Aunt Rita giggled.
My mom giggled too. That’s when I got scared. Mom and Aunt Rita don’t just giggle over nothing. When they giggle, it usually means they’re up to something, and that something always has to do with introducing me to someone they think is perfect for me. Oh lord, please tell me they didn’t invite me here just to meet some guy, I thought. I can’t handle this right now. I gave them a good-quality glare to let them know that I knew what they were up to. They practically frog-marched me to the other side of the dining room and planted me in front of this guy.
He was handsome; I’d have to give them that. He looked as though he made his living as a male model. They giggled as they introduced us.
“Andromeda,” Aunt Rita said. “This is Anthony Fontaine. He just moved into the area. His family is from our sister coven in New York. You know, the one that Cathy and Bob Goodall started when they moved last year.”
He gave my mom and Aunt Rita an indulgent smile as he raised my hand to his lips and planted a kiss on my knuckles.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said in a deep baritone.
He was blond and stylishly dressed in black slacks and a button-up dress shirt. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows in a casual, I’m-just-relaxing-after-a-long-day kind of way. He did fill the clothes out nicely with wide shoulders, flat stomach, and narrow hips. I had to hand it to them—Mom and Aunt Rita did know how to pick the hotties. But despite his golden looks and continental manners, I wasn’t attracted to him. He didn’t rev my engine the way Cavanaugh did.
I told him it was nice to meet him also and tried to retrieve my hand. He tightened his grip a little and smirked at me. I think he knew that I was not going to fight for my hand back in front of Mom and Aunt Rita, especially when they were gushing to me about him.
“Rommy,” Aunt Rita said, “Anthony is psychic also. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Really,” I said, trying once more to pull my hand away. “What a coincidence.”
When Uncle Mike and Dad appeared, I thought I was saved, but I was wrong. They were in on it, as well.
“Ah, I see you’ve met Anthony,” my dad said, smiling and giving me a peck on the cheek.
Oh Dad, not you, too, I thought.
“Well, I think everyone’s here now,” Uncle Mike said. “Why don’t we start the tour of the house, and then we’ll sit down for dinner.”
Good idea, I thought, stepping back to follow as everyone started to move into the parlor. I once again tried to retrieve my hand, but Anthony threaded it through his arm and placed his hand on top of mine to prevent my escape.
“Allow me to escort you,” he said in his deep voice. He still had that smirk on his face, like I was amusing him.
Okay, this guy was officially getting on my nerves. I might have decided not to fight for my hand earlier, but that didn’t mean that I was going to continue to keep silent and let him do what he wanted. I was sure he used this technique on many women, and because of his looks and charm they allowed him to get away with it. Maybe they were even flattered by his attention. I was not. Sure, it sounded all suave when you read about this type of behavior in romance novels, but in reality it was insulting. What, I was too stupid to find my way into the next room by myself?
“I appreciate the offer,” I said with a false smile, “but if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to my dad.”
I jerked my hand out from under his arm and briskly walked into the parlor. Spying my mom and dad with Aunt Rita and Uncle Mike, I made a beeline to where they stood.
“Dad,” I said, threading my arm through his.
“Hi, pumpkin.” He kissed my cheek again. “Where’s Anthony?”
My dad’s eyes twinkled at me. He knew what I was up to and he was prepared to help out as much as he could—behind Mom’s back, of course. My hero. How could I have ever thought he was in on the set up. Mom and Aunt Rita craned their necks, looking around for Anthony. I had to distract them.
“Aunt Rita,” I said quickly. “Can you tell me why you think there’s a presence in the house?”
“Oh,” she said, giving me her attention. “We’re hearing all kinds of noises during the day and night, and doors are opening and closing all the time.”
“Things are getting moved around, too,” Uncle Mike chimed in. “It’s very distracting to have to go looking for things you just set down. It was just yesterday when I was measuring the door in one of the upstairs bedrooms, and I set the tape measure down for a second, only to find it was gone when I went to pick it up again. It took me an hour to find it.”
“Where did it end up?” I asked, intrigued.
“The kitchen, of all places,” he said with a laugh, shaking his head. “At this rate, it’s going to take forever to get this place in shape.”
I knew from years of being recruited to help with some of their other houses that time was a factor when they bought one of these distressed properties. The quicker they fixed it up, the quicker they could get it on the market.
When everyone gathered into a group, the tour began. I kept my hand firmly on my dad’s arm as we went from room to room. Uncle Mike and Aunt Rita explained to everyone what their intentions for each room were. I looked carefully around to see if I could spot the source of their hauntings. So far, I’d seen nothing out of the ordinary. It was a little difficult, though, with so many people. I wanted to hang back from the crowd and view the rooms after they walked out, but at the same time, I didn’t want Dad to miss out on the tour. He loved seeing the old houses Mike and Rita worked on, and the before-and-after comparisons of the houses always amazed him. Dad was quite handy with tools himself, and I thought that fixing up distressed properties was something he would have loved to do. Unfortunately he couldn’t move Mom and Nana around to different houses all the time. I’m sure Mom wouldn’t have minded, but it would be too distressing for Nana. The doctors always told us tha
t Nana needed a stable environment and too many changes might upset her.
I decided that I had to leave the safety of my dad’s side in order to do what I was asked here to do. I could feel Anthony’s gaze on me as we moved on to another room; I hoped that I would be able to fall back without him following me. As the crowd moved to the next room, I dropped to the back and then darted into the first room at the beginning of the tour.
This room was what Uncle Mike and Aunt Rita said they were going to turn into a study. Uncle Mike had planned to install built-in bookcases between the large window, which faced the front drive, and the marble fireplace. Uncle Mike was a general contractor, and every home they had restored was nothing but gorgeous. I could picture this room with its built-in bookcases. I knew it would be beautiful when it was finished; for now though, the drywall was off the walls and the floor was bare of any coverings. I didn’t see anything in this room, so I made my way to the next—still nothing. Room after room I searched. Maybe they were mistaken and the things they said happened had another explanation. I peeked into the large pantry in the kitchen. I thought I saw movement in the back, and I reached out for the chain hanging from the light bulb. I couldn’t quite reach it. My fingertips brushed the chain, but I was too short to get a grip. Suddenly, I felt someone behind me and I heard the click from above. Light from the bare bulb flooded the pantry. I whirled around and found Anthony standing close behind me. Too close. I took a wary step back. I hated it when people snuck up behind me.
“Ah, there you are, Andromeda,” he said. “Everyone was wondering if perhaps you got lost.” His smile was a little predatory. “Don’t you think you should rejoin the group?”
I was not going to let this guy intimidate me. “No,” I said, taking a quick look around the pantry. “I was asked specifically to look for any ghost that might be lingering in the house. I can’t do that with a big group around.”
I minced my way around him and back out into the kitchen. I was beginning to feel like a mouse being toyed with by a cat, and that feeling was annoying me.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said. “I can’t stay very long, and I still have a lot of rooms to look into.”
I turned and headed out of the kitchen, only to have him grab my arm and stop me. I looked at his hand on my arm and then looked directly into his face, my eyebrow arched. He removed his hand, but stepped closer to me. Jeeze, didn’t this guy believe in personal space?
“I would be remiss in not accompanying you in your investigation,” he said with a smile. “These rooms in this old house can be dangerous if you’re not careful.”
I tried to tell myself that this guy was not threatening me, but I felt threatened.
“Look,” I told him firmly. “I don’t know what my Aunt and Mom told you, but I am already seeing someone,” I said. Well, it was mostly true. I saw Cavanaugh every day.
“That doesn’t matter,” he said, stepping closer to me. “I always get what I want.”
Don’t ask him what he wants , don’t ask him what he wants, I told myself.
“What do you want?” I heard a voice say.
Damn it, that was my voice. I was such an idiot!
“You,” he said. His smirk became a grin.
Okay, now I was getting creeped out. Forget the ghosts; I was ready to leave, right now. However, a little voice in my head told me not to. The little voice told me not to let this guy run me off.
“You would poach on another man’s territory?” I asked him with a disgusted look.
“Of course,” he said mildly, “especially if the other man was foolish enough to let you out of his sight for even one minute.”
“That’s despicable,” I told him. “You might as well forget what you’re thinking and join the others. I don’t find you the least bit attractive, and although you have no problems hitting on someone who just told you she was in a relationship, I am not the kind of person who would be unfaithful to the man I am seeing.”
“Of course not,” he soothed. “I can sense your integrity. That’s one of the qualities I find essential in a mate.”
Was this guy serious? That’s it, I’m out of here. I turned and walked out of the kitchen, taking the stairs up to the second floor. I was going to make my excuses and get the hell out of here. I would come back another day and look for the ghosts.
I caught up with the group in the master bedroom at the end of the hall. They were just leaving to view the only space left to be seen, the attic. When I came back upstairs the second time, I saw many shadows out of the corner of my eyes, but each time I turned to look at them straight on, they would disappear. Okay, I thought to myself. There were ghosts here, but for whatever reason, they didn’t want to be seen. I had no choice but to join the tour, making my way through the group back to my dad’s side. When he saw me standing next to him, he threaded my arm back through his.
“Any luck?” he whispered.
I didn’t know if he meant with the ghost or with the annoying Anthony Fontaine. I shook my head. That covered either question. As we all trudged up to the attic, I could feel Anthony’s gaze on me again. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, reinforcing my decision to leave right away. The problem was, I didn’t want to interrupt the tour, so I waited until we were back downstairs so I could make my excuses to my mom and Aunt Rita while they were laying dinner on the table.
“What do you mean, you have to go?” my mom cried.
I didn’t want to disappoint her, but I also couldn’t tell her the truth. Although my mom would indulge her matchmaking fantasies with me and my sister, she was still my mom and would turn on this Anthony guy in an instant if she knew I felt threatened by him. No one messed with her babies. I also knew that Aunt Rita would be right there to back her up. I didn’t want to ruin their evening or cause dissention in the coven, so I lied.
“I’m really sorry,” I told them. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place. I had a very long day, and I’m pretty tired. I have been literally walking up and down mountains since seven o’clock this morning, and I’ll be back out doing the same tomorrow. I think it’s best if I just go home and get some rest.”
“Oh, but what about the ghost?” Aunt Rita asked. “Did you see anything?”
I shook my head. “I think something is here,” I told her, “but for some reason, they don’t want to be seen. It might be all the people here tonight. Maybe we’re scaring them. I think I’ll have better luck finding out what’s going on if the house was empty.”
Aunt Rita nodded her head. “Yes, your mom and I were afraid that having so many people here might put the ghost off. Call me and let me know when you’re available,” she said, giving me a hug. “Can you at least stay for dinner?”
“I actually ate before I came,” I lied. “We stopped off on our way back into town for dinner, since we didn’t have lunch.”
The truth was that we ate lunch in Cavanaugh’s truck, as usual. Dinner did smell delicious, but I was not staying any longer.
“All right, dear,” my mom said, kissing my cheek. “Get some rest.”
I think my mom suspected something was up. I guessed I’d find out tomorrow if she called to give me the third degree.
I said good-bye to my dad and Uncle Mike, who looked a little disappointed that I had to leave so soon. I grabbed my purse and headed out the door, digging for my keys as I walked to where I’d parked my car.
“Running away?” a deep voice said from out of the darkness.
I turned to find Anthony leaning up against a black Porsche, smoking a cigarette. Sneaky bastard, I didn’t even see him go out the door.
“Not at all,” I said casually, “but I do have to work tomorrow and I need to get home.”
My pride still wouldn’t let me back down.
“Yes, I believe your mother mentioned you work for the local police. How quaint,” he said, a bit snidely.
Now I was pissed off. How dare he make what I do sound trivial?
“What?�
�� I said rudely. “You’re too good to use your own supposed psychic ability to make a difference in the world?”
I put extra emphasis on the word supposed. I didn’t believe this guy was psychic.
“On the contrary,” he said, taking a deep drag from his cigarette. “I do make a difference in the world, just on a much grander scale.”
I arched a brow at him, daring him to continue and tell me what he thought was more important than helping the people in his community.
“I work for the FBI,” he said, puffing himself up. “I also have been asked by several countries to assist with various projects that I’m not at liberty to discuss with you.”
I rolled my eyes at him. What a snob.
“How nice for you,” I said sarcastically. “Since you’re not at liberty to discuss anything, I guess you have nothing left to talk about. I’d say it was a pleasure meeting you, but it really wasn’t.”
I could hear him chuckle as I got into my car.
Chapter 12
I was late getting up the next morning, which made me grouchy. I had just poured and doctored my first cup of coffee when Cavanaugh walked into the kitchen. I was getting used to him just appearing in my house through my locked doors. I thought he could tell I was grouchy this morning, because he let me finish my coffee before telling me it was time to go.
We were just outside of town when my phone rang. I dug it out of my purse and looked at the display. Rats, it was my mom. I guessed I didn’t get away with anything last night. I slid the phone back into my purse and set it on the floor at my feet.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Cavanaugh asked.
“Nope,” I said.
“Who was it?” He gave me a look that told me he knew something was wrong and he wasn’t going to let me alone until I told him.
Lightning Strikes Page 16
