by Anne B. Cole
Gretta felt her cheeks fill with heat. “They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. I’ve never seen two people so madly in love. How do you know Raja?”
He touched the bracelet on her wrist and shook his head the slightest bit. “I don’t. She was the terrorist who killed my brother.”
Chapter 5
Mile High
Gretta
“Here are your boarding passes. Flight 0321 departs in ten minutes.” The ticketing agent handed Sam the paperwork. “Step through this door.”
Gretta checked her phone. 11:51. “Ten minutes? I thought our flight left at 12:45.” She looked at Sam who shrugged his shoulders and eyed the agent.
“Your original flight was overbooked so we placed you on first available seating. Although this jet is smaller, we’ve upgraded you to first class. And, it appears you’re the only ones in first class.” The striking brunette batted her eyes at Sam.
He studied the boarding passes, tapping his finger on the destination and arrival times in confirmation.
The agent leaned across the counter and placed a red manicured finger at the top of the pass. “Plus, it’s a non-stop flight to Athens so you won’t have a layover in Italy.” Her finger grazed Sam’s hand.
“Everything seems to be in order,” Sam stated slowly. He continued concentrating on the passes.
“It most certainly is,” she replied, ogling Sam from head to toe.
Gretta snatched the papers out of Sam’s hand and collected his arm. “We have a flight to catch.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Her next kiss rivaled the one Raja and Sam’s brother shared.
Leaving her husband breathlessly stunned, Gretta sent a smug smile to the agent and escorted him through the gate. His arm, which had been on her shoulder, slid possessively to the small of her back. A flight attendant collected the passes and led them into first class.
“Take any seat. You’re our last passengers to board and we’re ready to taxi to the runway.” She pulled two pillows and blankets out from an overhead compartment and placed them on a nearby empty seat. “After takeoff I’ll return to offer you something to drink or eat. It’s a seven-hour flight with an estimated arrival time of two p.m. in Athens. Buckle up, please.”
“Thanks. We’re pretty tired.” Gretta collapsed into the window seat with a pillow in hand.
Sam unfolded a blanket and tucked it under her chin. He sat in the seat next to her and buckled in. After the plane took off and reached its cruising altitude, Sam dug his phone out of his pocket.
“What are you doing?” she asked, knowing he couldn’t text or call in flight.
“Making notes.” He began typing into his phone at a furious rate.
“About what?” Gretta yawned and removed the armrest between them to get a better look at the phone screen.
Sam flashed a killer grin and wrapped an arm around her, encircling her against his warm chest so she could see the phone. He held it in both hands and continued typing as she felt his chin rest on top of her head.
“Day one of our trip has had more than one memorable moment.” He shifted her closer.
“Advice and a scarf from my father and your mom. A woven bracelet from your brother’s girlfriend.” She watched his face wrinkle in disagreement.
“Sam, you gave me the FBI report on your brother’s death. I read every word. They didn’t list her name as Raja, but JD’s partner spoke to her minutes before her death. He claimed she had no knowledge of the bomb. Her superiors set her up to teach her a lesson.” She watched him close his eyes and nod in agreement, despite the senseless loss of his brother’s life.
JD and Raja’s passionate embrace flashed in her mind. “After seeing their spirits at the airport, I have absolutely no doubt they were madly in love.”
“Did JD say anything to you? Advice? Maybe a warning?”
He had asked her this earlier and it hurt when he didn’t believe her. She shook her head, then smiled and rubbed his thigh under the blanket.
“Once Raja saw your brother, her focus centered on him and only him. I don’t even know if she left the bracelet intentionally.” She touched the soft fibers of the woven band around her wrist.
“She had the bracelet on when she died. I saw pictures the police took at the scene.” He lifted the blanket and gazed at the thick band without touching it. “It’s Raja’s, Gretta. There must be a reason she gave it to you.”
“Maybe she wanted to show you their love and happiness.” She slipped her hand under his tee shirt and danced her fingertips across rock hard abs.
He sighed and squeezed her until she squealed. His fingers did their own dance, tickling her sides until she begged him to stop. She settled under the blanket and he returned to his notes.
“‘Don’t let victory be your goal. Accept defeat to protect my daughter. Never leave her. Two souls shall become one.’” He repeated her father’s words and typed them into his phone.
“Dad used to play twenty questions with me, not riddle games. What do you think he’s trying to tell us?” She yawned again, blinking to keep her eyes open.
“I don’t know. Can you tell me exactly what my mom said to you?” His father’s cop voice had taken over.
Gretta replayed the event in her head, recalling every word. “She told me to wear the scarf always so he may find me. I don’t know who ‘he’ is. I hope it’s not Kadir Haty.” An involuntary shiver ran through her. “Then she said, ‘Trust and forgiveness, Gretta, you must do both in order to escape.’ I have no idea who or what I need to escape from. There are only two people I’ve ever been afraid of. Both are dead. One is the original owner of this scarf.”
She pulled it out of her pocket and held it between two fingers. A sick feeling entered the pit of her stomach.
After recording his mother’s words, he slowly pulled the green silk scarf from her hands. He began twisting it into a tight rope. He wound it around her bare wrist and tied it with a secure knot.
His lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t understand it either, but I know the repercussions of disobeying my mom.” He pulled her hands together in front of them. Both wrists were covered in cloth; one green silk, the other a multitude of colors woven together in a brilliant zigzag pattern. “Don’t ever take them off unless I’m right beside you. Promise?”
“Promise.” She relaxed against his shoulder while he scrolled through his notes. The security of his arms beckoned her to sleep. Visions of Sam continually at her side while touring Greek cities and strolling beautiful beaches filled her with happiness.
Half asleep, a thought entered her mind. “Will you shower with me?” she asked.
“I doubt there’s a shower on this plane, but we could improvise.” His sharp gaze locked on her.
“No, silly. When I take the scarf and bracelet off to shower, will you remain at my side to protect me, like my father asked?” She lifted herself to where she felt his breath on her cheek.
“Absolutely.” His lips grazed hers. Tucking the blanket around her, he refocused on his notes.
Disgruntled the kiss didn’t develop into something more, Gretta watched Sam reread the notes he had written earlier. His forehead creased in bewilderment.
“I saw the dagger, Sam. I didn’t hallucinate.” She studied his confused expression.
“I believe you, even though I couldn’t see it. Something isn’t right.” He continued staring at his notes.
He must have sensed her uneasiness because his free hand rubbed her arm before he pressed her head against his chest.
Gretta yawned and squinted to see his notes.
“It’s late. We’ll be able to concentrate better in the morning.” He closed his notes and eyed the flight attendant’s empty seat. “Being alone in first class, we could become official members of the—�
�
“I thought they outlawed the Mile High Club,” she interrupted.
A devilish grin spread across his face. “It’s only illegal if completed in the lavatories.” Sam trailed his fingers under the blanket and over her thigh.
Thoughts of making love warmed her insides. Her hands dove under his shirt. He kissed behind her ear and along her neck. Despite the armrest gap between them, their limbs tangled, twisting with need.
Shifting next to her, he lowered the seat to fully recline and snuggled under the blanket. A hard object poked into her side. She grabbed his cell phone and tossed it on his unoccupied seat. “Got protection?”
His entire body slumped.
“Right, protection. It’s packed.” His adorable grin broadened in the dim light. “I could ask the flight attendant.”
“Sam.” She cocooned herself into the blanket.
From under the covers, she heard an incredibly sexy sigh. Peeking out, she watched him scroll through his notes. Exhaustion from the long day set in. Gretta snuggled her cheek to the pillow and drifted to sleep.
Chapter 6
Air Sick
Gretta
Gretta’s eyes snapped open. Her heart pounded with fear. The essence of the nightmare fizzled out of her mind. A strange sense of calmness took hold and emptied her need to know what had frightened her.
The absence of the overhead light made her realize she had been asleep for a while. Sam must have turned it off before falling into dreamland next to her. Releasing a cleansing sigh, she adjusted into the crook of his arm, and filled her lungs with his scent. In the haziness of falling back to sleep, a rumble jerked her head to attention.
It sounded again, similar to a low growl. Gretta giggled and placed her hand on Sam’s bottomless pit of a stomach. She watched him wake with the next roar.
“Hungry?” she whispered before placing a kiss just under his chin.
“Always, Mrs. Daggett.” Sam snagged her hand and began nibbling her fingertips.
She wriggled in playful protest.
“Not for me, for food.” She looked to see if the flight attendant left anything for them to snack on.
“There are cookies and brownies.” He rubbed her stomach when it let out its own protest. “I scarfed one down earlier.” He scrambled out of his seat and returned with two bottles of water and the largest chocolate chip cookie she had ever seen.
“You ate one of these?” She began unwrapping clear plastic off the huge cookie.
“Yep. I believe your tummy is the origin of the grumbling. Not mine.” He opened a water bottle and took a long drink.
“Did we miss dinner? I am starved.” Gretta took in a mouthful of cookie. A medley of flavors melted in her mouth. Dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and white chocolate, all combined within fresh cookie goodness. She gobbled another bite and opened a water bottle.
She felt Sam’s intense stare. “What? Do I have chocolate smeared on my face?” She wiped her mouth against the back of her sleeve and took a long drink.
“Do you feel all right?” He touched her face with his palm. “You suddenly paled. Don’t get up. I don’t want you passing out again.” Concern rippled across his face.
“Just hungry. I—” Her stomach suddenly flipped, resulting in her need to swallow bites of cookie a second time. Thankfully the wave of nausea abated as quickly as it came on. “I’m good, but I think I’ll use the ladies’ room.”
She stood under his scrutiny and walked to the curtain dividing first class from coach. “I’ll be right back.” When he stepped closer she held her hand in protest. “Don’t follow me. I’m fine.”
Pushing the curtain with a little more force than necessary, she found herself standing among people packed into narrow seats with very few inches separating them. Disgruntled passengers glared at her before tossing and turning in an attempt to find the slightest bit of comfort.
Gretta quickly scanned the area and found the lavatory door with an unoccupied sign at the latch. She stepped into the tiny compartment and closed the door. The lock slid easily in place and her tummy roiled again.
Without taking another step, she turned and sat on the closed toilet seat. The stench of chemicals combined with old man farts smacked her cheeks. One hand covered her nose and mouth, the other grasped for the door latch to escape. Unable to work the latch open, sweat beaded on her forehead and her stomach convulsed.
Squeezing her eyes closed, she heard remnants of her late night snack spatter into the hand sink. Without looking or breathing, her quivering hands turned the spigot handle and rinsed the sink before splashing cool water on her face. Taking in a shallow breath, bile-smelling vomit had replaced the old man stink. Her stomach somersaulted a second time.
Why did I tell Sam not to follow me?
Another round of heaves brought her hands around the base of the sink and her cheek against its smooth, cool surface. The click of the door latch sounded. Cool hands gently pulled stray hair from her face, smoothing it into her ponytail.
“Count backward from twenty and it will pass.” The deep male voice held a soothing and familiar accent.
Before daring to take another breath, she began counting in her mind. At fifteen, she took in an experimental breath. The scent of cigarette smoke off the man behind her penetrated her senses. Instead of making her sick, it calmed her insides and she breathed deeply in a desperate need to fill her lungs.
At ten, she peeled herself off the edge of the sink. Cool hands rested on the back of her neck. Her rigid body melted under the comforting touch.
“Keep counting,” he encouraged. His hands moved to her shoulders for support. “Focus on the numbers and it will pass.”
At five, she sat on the toilet seat away from the sink. At one, she found a white handkerchief in her left hand. She dabbed the cloth against her sweaty face.
“Thank you, Theo.” His name fell from her lips without thought. She raised her eyes to meet his before she remembered Theo had lived and died in the nineteenth century.
No one stood in the lavatory with her. The possibility didn’t exist for there wasn’t enough space to fit a second person.
“You’re welcome,” Theo’s voice surrounded her.
In an instant, she pulled her legs up, curling into a ball to make room for the spirit.
“Relax. You cannot see me, but you will hear and feel my presence.” When she complied, he continued, “I didn’t intend to frighten you. I’m deeply sorry.”
“I’m good. You always gave me, I mean Anya, a sense of security. I’m not afraid.” She felt him smile, then shook her head, unable to comprehend how she sensed his reaction.
“I had no idea how much of a presence your spirits held within Anya and Lorenzo, until now.”
When he paused, a tender feeling of love singed with pain flowed through her. Within a heartbeat, the aura transformed. Tension, urgency, anger, and revenge emitted from Theo’s soul. She tightened the grip her arms held around her knees.
“Peter forgave Kadir. Like you, I continue to carry hatred of him with me. We need to let it go, Gretta.” His essence shifted to one of tender compassion. Strength enveloped her, tamped her hatred, and eased her fear. “Give this to Sam. With it, he may earn their trust and end their ordeal.” His voice faded.
The cloth in her hand filled with something hard. “Whose trust? Who needs our help?” Gretta searched her mind for Theo’s presence.
Empty.
The sink faucet had been turned off and the air no longer held the acrid stench of bile or old man farts. Or Theo’s smokes.
She ran her fingers through her hair. Taking a deep breath, she slid the lock with little effort. The door flew open without her giving it the slightest push. Her husband stood inches away.
“Sam,” she sighed. He gu
ided her out of the tiny room. “You’re right. You should have come with me in there.”
“Excuse me?” A flight attendant tapped Sam’s shoulder. “We have strict rules in place for your safety. One at a time in the lavatory. No exceptions, not even for newlyweds.” She ushered them back to first class and stood at the curtain while they returned to their seats. “I’ll make sure no one disturbs you.” With a wink, she disappeared into coach.
Sam settled in the seat next to her and took her hands in his. “What happened in there? I was ready to break the door down.” His eyes rounded when she offered the handkerchief to him. The folded ends fell open. Wordlessly, he touched a gold watch.
“Another ghost?”
A few seconds passed before their eyes locked and they declared in unison, “Theo.”
Chapter 7
Crystal Blue
Gretta
Leaning against the balcony rail of their villa suite, Gretta filled her lungs with salty sea air. Each morning of their vacation, she had spent a few moments taking in the beauty of the Greek Islands. The crystal blue water of the Aegean glistened when a crisp breeze rippled its surface. In the distance, the sacred island of Delos drew her gaze. Steam from the mug she held to her lips swirled in front of her eyes, giving the ancient island a creepy movie appearance.
After flipping the collar of her plush white robe, she took a sip of tea. Two black birds landed on the adjacent balcony and cooed to each other, drawing her attention.
“Morning.” She raised her cup in greeting and the pair took flight in the direction of the sea. She watched them chase each other over the water to where a lone dolphin leapt into the air several times before disappearing beneath the blue-green waters. Beautiful.