On his way home, he stopped at the grocery store to pick up dinner, all the while kicking the boat incident around in his mind. Something about the entire situation gnawed at his gut. Helga. The name seemed familiar. He’d seen the inscription written some place, but where had he seen or heard the name before? He decided the answer would come to him eventually. He never forgot a name or face. Right now he rushed to get back home, turn the cold cuts he bought into dinner and get back to retiling the upstairs bathroom. Turned out the old house he purchased had sat abandoned for years, five to be exact according to the real estate broker. Buying a foreclosure was fortuitous, both financially and physically. He always wanted to renovate an old house, work with his hands and turn something ugly into a piece of beauty. The gratification he received from restoring the old Victorian gave him a sense of belonging to the community and became an outlet to keep his mind off the battle scars of war.
As he approached the front yard, he spied something leaning against the house on the front porch. From the distance, he couldn’t make out the person, but whoever they were, they seemed distraught. The night had become darker. The only light came from the street lamp, casting eerie shadows across the figure seated against the clapboard siding.
Is that a package or really a person? His first thoughts were perhaps the package of fixtures he ordered for the bathroom remodel arrived. Then the figure moved. An animal? His mind raced. “What the fuck is it?” he muttered as he picked up the pace. Ever the cautious lawman, he put down the bag of groceries, keeping his eyes on the target. Slowly, he unclipped his gun from the holster approaching in a crouch.
At ten feet away, he focused in on the figure, groaning and slightly moving. He straightened up, stopped abruptly and listened. A woman?
Mikael gingerly climbed the three steps to the front porch. The first was quiet. The second one betrayed him with a loud creak. The woman moved, muttering incoherently. She tilted her head up and blinked a few times before speaking.
“Edmond? Is that you?” The softness of her voice brought tightness to Mikael’s chest. The sweet sound aroused protective-take-care-of-my-woman urges throughout his now totally alert body.
Moving closer, the face of the woman came into view. He knelt down and as he reached out, she slipped her arms around his shoulders, taking him by surprise. And little ever caught him unaware. He prided himself on anticipating the unexpected, but the swiftness of her move knocked him off balance, mentally and physically. He recovered by pulling back. “Who are you?”
“Oh, Edmond, I thought I’d lost you.”
“I’m not—”
Before he could finish, the stranger covered his mouth with hers. The salty and sweet taste burned and excited. His mind reeled. The kiss pressed hard and her tongue tickled, begging for entrance. He wanted to give in, but with a second of sanity, he grabbed her arms and pushed back, releasing the embrace. Before he could speak, her body went limp and she fell unconscious.
Well, fuck. Now what do I do?
Chapter Two
The sliver of early morning light that splintered through the drawn draperies of the bedroom woke Mikael. The night had certainly not been the one he expected to spend. Nothing about yesterday had been normal. A bedraggled strange woman appeared on his doorstep. He assumed she had taken a dip in the ocean, dressed in a tattered cotton dress, wet and smelling of saltwater. A very absurd stunt to pull in the middle of winter off the coast of Maine, he thought. Who would do such an idiotic thing? He had posed this and other questions last night. Unfortunately, she remained unconscious and couldn’t answer.
The blasted take-care-of-my-woman testosterone tugged at his insides again as he recalled how he’d removed her wet clothing and gave her a sponge bath, rinsing out the sticky and saltwater tangled hair. Repeatedly, he told himself to look upon her nakedness clinically. I’m doing this to clean her and make her warm and comfortable. Yeah, he kept telling himself that over and over. She was a delicate angel who set his blood on fire like the devil, and battered relentlessly at his resolve to remain professional.
For most of the night, he sat beside the bed staring at the mysterious woman in his house. In my bed. Before he took his place in the overstuffed chair, he sat on the edge of the mattress raking his eyes over the petite blonde woman. Using honed observation skills, he estimated she was in her early twenties, a baby compared to his thirty-six. He only caught a quick glimpse of her eyes, a chestnut brown with specks of gold. Her breathing slowed and he knew she fell into a deep sleep. The kiss, the intoxicating kiss she gave him before losing consciousness still burned his lips from earlier. Sweet, but salty.
Mikael had pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, anything to keep his fingers occupied and away from touching her again. This delicate flower had the softest skin of any woman he’d ever known. Just simple contact with her arms when she’d grabbed and kissed him made his mouth water and fingers itch to handle other parts of her. When he stripped her clothes and gave her a sponge bath, it took every bit of his control not to look too hard. Hard, hell that’s what he felt. He slapped himself mentally to get those thoughts out of his mind.
This was Valentine’s Day night and he blew off the idea as Cupid playing tricks on him. Tempting him to find love again. But, that’s all it was, a fantasy. Loving again was too soon. Not after the breakup with Paula. Maybe four months after a long-term relationship dissolved was more than enough time to get back to dating again for some men, but not him. The so-called love of his life didn’t want to follow him to the ends of the earth or even to Maine when he told her his plans to apply for the position. She refused to leave Alabama. “I have friends and family here. I’m not going to some town without a mall and freeze my ass off to boot.”
That was the whole crux of the matter in the end. She liked to shop, and shop and shop. The last he heard, she hooked up with a high-powered attorney in Birmingham who could give her everything she wanted. Enough lonely nights had been spent pining for Paula.
As he viewed the angel-on-earth with awe—high cheekbones, straight nose, heart-shaped face—his throat went dry. His ex-girlfriend never looked that beautiful sleeping, or any other woman he bedded, for that matter. Something appealing, seductive and outright helpless had him all twisted inside. Suppressed passion? Him or her? Both? He burned for her and if his growing erection was any indication of how the mere sight of the woman affected him, what would she do awake? Her mouth fell open slightly as she rolled to her side, and it took enormous amounts of self-control not to lean over and kiss her rosy full lips. Time seemed to slow and the image of him stripping her naked again ran through his mind.
He shook off the haze clouding his brain to view the sleeping beauty in his bedroom. He couldn’t stop the low groan that shuddered up from his chest as he raked his gaze along the curves of her concealed body. He began to imagine his palms running across her breasts, pausing to rub the pink-tipped nipples until they hardened like pebbles. He wanted her, to caress the curves of her wet and willing body. He imagined dragging his mouth over hers, kissing with passion as his hard cock plundered her soft pussy over and over until they were both hot, sweaty and satisfactorily exhausted.
Damn it! What am I thinking? Disgust hit him square in the face. Had he gone too long without sex that he’d force his attentions on a woman he didn’t know? Lusting after a helpless woman sleeping in his bed was crazy. He needed to get out more.
Well damn it, that’s what he thought he did by moving to Marneport. Tightening his fists inside the pockets of his jeans, he slipped off the bed and snuggled into the chair to sleep. He had spent the remainder of the night chiding himself for thinking about the woman. Frankly, he’d spent too much time chasing after females who didn’t live up to his wants, needs or desires. He had high hopes for the relationship with Paula until everything they had once meant to one another collapsed in a deluge of finger pointing and recrimination. Why he spent one second thinking about her, he didn’t know. With one kiss, the
cute bundle in his bed made him realize he could move on. Amid a flurry of reassuring thoughts warming his mind, he finally succumbed to the Sandman in the early morning hours.
In the light of day, the memory of the kiss from the night before lingered and still warmed his skin when he awakened. As he glanced over at the slumbering angel who had danced erotically through his dreams, he stretched and readjusted in the club chair pushing against the ottoman his legs rested on. The forced movement caused the round stool to slide across the wood floor making a loud scraping noise. The woman stirred, moaning faintly as she fluttered her eyes open and long, blonde tresses fell across her face.
“Good morning,” he said softly.
Obviously startled by his voice, she jerked. “You’re not Edmond. Who are you?” She scrunched under the cover, clinging to the bedcoverings tucked under her chin.
Standing, he stepped closer to the bed. “Mikael, Mikael Larson. You’re in the bedroom of my house.”
“Your house? This is Edmond’s house.”
The shaking covers made him realize she shivered from fear and not a chill.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. You were on my front porch when I arrived home last night. What’s your name?”
Tears glistened in her eyes as they widened to meet his. “Where’s Edmond?”
“I’m sorry, Miss. I don’t know who Edmond is. This is my house. I bought it several months ago. I’m the new sheriff in Marneport and I may be new, but I don’t remember meeting you before. Do you live around here or in the next town?”
“No, this is my home. I mean, this is Edmond’s but Marneport is my home. I don’t understand what’s happening.”
Taking another stride toward the bed, he searched for any apprehension on her part. Seeing none, he sat on the edge of the mattress at the foot of the bed. “I’d like to help since you did end up on my doorstep. Why don’t we start with the last thing you remember?”
The expression on her face told him everything. She appeared frightened, confused and not sure to trust him. “It is all right, I won’t hurt you. I’m trying to help. Why not start with your name.”
Moments passed before she spoke. “Nissa. My name is Nissa Moore.”
“Nissa. Pretty name.” That nagging feeling tugged at his insides like yesterday. The young woman seemed familiar. He’d seen her before. Where, he had no idea.
“T-thank you.”
“Okay, that is a good start. You at least remember your name. Why were you on my front porch, Nissa?” he asked, keeping his voice low and modulated as not to frighten her further.
“I thought I was at Edmond’s house.”
“Hmm, Edmond again. Who is he? You keep saying this is his house. Maybe in the dark you got it mixed up with another one.”
“No! I didn’t. This is his house.” He could see tears well in her eyes.
“Okay, okay. I didn’t mean to push. Where were you? I mean, your clothes were wet and smelled like you had been in the ocean, but I know that is impossible because no one can swim in the frigid water this time of year.”
She lifted the coverings and peered under them, then glanced at him with widened eyes. “These aren’t my clothes. D-Did you do this?”
The shock on her face had him scurrying for a plausible answer so as not to frighten her more. “Like I said, you were wet and cold and I had to get you out of them before you got pneumonia. I…I didn’t look, really. Just removed them fast and put you in one of my college T-shirts.” He left out the part about bathing her.
“I’m to really believe you?”
“Yes. I didn’t even do anything when you kissed me.” The words escaped before he had a chance to retract them.
“Kiss you?”
“Um, not a big deal. You were kind of out of it and you called me Edmond. In your confusion, you must have thought I was him.”
She pulled the coverings closer. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
“No problem. It didn’t bother me.” He lied again. “So, did someone hurt you or…”
“No! Just tell me where Edmond is? I have to find him.”
“Nissa, I told you I don’t know an Edmond.” He stood. “Look, I tell you what. I have to go to work today, but under these circumstances I’ll stay home. You can stay here, relax, get something to eat, and if you need to shower and clean-up, use the bathroom off my bedroom. The other one I’m renovating and it’s not functioning. I’ll leave you to your privacy and I’ll check on you later. We can figure out what happened to you and find this Edmond when you feel better.”
She nodded. He smiled and left the room. A cold shower was needed before he could think of doing any work.
A half hour later he wondered why he bothered with the shower at all. He sat at the desk in his home office shuffling paperwork, trying to forget Nissa Moore. He failed miserably, unable to shake the feeling he recognized her from somewhere. Unusual. Exotic. And oh so damned familiar. Bizarre was all he could say about the nagging thought. He’d called the station an hour before to have Valberg come to the house.
The doorbell chimed.
Mikael opened the door to have his deputy standing before him. “What’s up this morning, Sheriff? Why’d you call me over to your house?” Valberg asked, poking his head through the open doorway.
“Valberg, thanks for meeting me here. Come on in, I have a few questions for you.”
“Oh, shit. What have I done, boss? You wanted to see me privately. This must be real bad.” The deputy walked hesitantly and sat on the sofa in the living area.
Mikael chuckled. “You’re not in trouble. I need to ask you about someone I’ve met. More exact, she showed up on my front porch last night. She’s upstairs. Curious thing, she is claiming this house belongs to someone else and can’t tell me anything other than her name and she lives in Marneport.”
“Whew! I thought I messed up big time. So, you’ve met someone, huh? You go boss.”
“No, I told you it’s nothing like that. I need you to run a check on her. See if any missing persons going by the name of Nissa Moore have shown up in any databases. I’d do it, but I don’t want to leave her unattended. Nissa is an unusual name and something about her bothered me all night. I was thinking maybe she is related to someone here, maybe used to live in this house and suffered from some kind of trauma.”
“Hmm, the name doesn’t ring a bell. I haven’t lived here all my life, but I do know this house is haunted.”
“Haunted. You’re kidding, right?”
“Stories I’ve heard that’s all. I don’t believe in ghosts. I think the story started because the house had been abandoned for several years. You know how kids can make things up. Maybe this woman is doing the same fishing around for a handout.”
“From me? I don’t have anything to offer. No, she’s pretty convincing. Either she has some form of amnesia or she’s a pretty damn good actress. I don’t know, but let’s see how much information we can find. Let me know, I’ll be here all day.”
Valberg stood to leave. “Can I meet this Nissa Moore? Maybe if I saw her, I’d recognize her.”
“Sure, I don’t see why not. She’s upstairs in my bedroom.”
“Your bedroom?”
“Don’t give me that look. It’s the only bed I have. Get your mind out of the gutter Valberg. I slept in the chair by the bed.”
The two men climbed the stairs to the second floor. Valberg chuckled several times before they reached the landing. “Have you followed up on the boat incident,” Mikael asked trying to change the subject.
“There’s nothing else I can tell you, Sheriff. The boat was lost at sea during a bad storm fifty years ago. The story goes the woman went out during a storm looking for her boyfriend and never came back. Yesterday, a boat that looks just like the one that went down shows up in an empty field. It’s weird, but who knows what really happened.”
Mikael shook his head. “Sounds strange I know, but something is not right with the scene. Did you speak with Ja
ck and Carl about the men Tom accused of putting the boat on the vacant property?”
“Yeah, they said no way they did it. They were drunk and not capable of moving a boat that size. And besides, Sheriff, you saw for yourself. No wheel marks, or any other evidence indicating how the boat ended up in the middle of the field. I think Tom is going to have to wait the thirty days to remove the boat, just like you told him.”
“Yes he will. Keep an eye on him though. I don’t need him to torch it or we’ll have a bigger problem.”
“I’ll take care of letting him know. So which room is she in?”
The two men stood outside a door off the landing.
“Here.” Mikael tapped his knuckles against the six-panel wood door. “Nissa, it’s Mikael. Can I come in?”
After a few moments without an answer, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.
“Nissa? Are you here? It’s Mikael.”
“Well, Sheriff, appears your houseguest has left.”
The bedcoverings were pushed back, the bathroom door was ajar but no sign of the young woman. He took several strides toward the bed and stopped. “She was here, I swear.”
“Maybe this Nissa got her memory back and returned to where she came from.”
“I doubt it. Her clothes are still in the dryer downstairs.”
“Her clothes? Boy, Sheriff. This story is getting better and better.”
“Valberg, this discussion is over. I think it’s time to go.” Mikael walked to the door and waved the deputy through.
Five Hearts Anthology Page 5
