Heat rose from his neck and colored his cheeks. He hadn't mentioned the word grifter again but apparently she was still bothered by it. He nodded. "Yes Miss Stohl. I won't use it again."
"And no more references to what I do just to perform simple parlor tricks?"
Matt opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he said, "Okay. I'm not sure what that means."
"Me taking your hand to find your keys."
"Oh…I'm sorry. I thought that was the definition of a psychic?" Oh snap…did that sound asinine? He held up his hands. "Really! I'm not trying to be an ass, I just wanted to know if you could find my keys that way."
The look she gave his hands alarmed him. Chloe glared at them as if he'd been picking up dog pooh with them and hadn't washed them. He looked at them himself, back and front, just to make sure he didn't have something smeared on them.
Nope. Clean.
"I'd really rather not."
He thought she was going to get in her car and leave him. Matt was very thankful when she shut it off and grabbed her keys. Once she shut the door and locked it with the key fob, he followed her to the front of Mesa Cove again and she unlocked the door.
"Where's Kevin?" he asked, just for a conversation starter.
Chloe moved expertly through the dim store—a single night light in a crystal skull gave off a soft illumination, and probably deterred superstitious burglars. "He takes the train. There's a path to the station just behind this shop." She disappeared into the back again and then the lights came on with an echoing clank. She stepped back inside. "He's a lot tougher than he looks."
Matt didn't comment as he looked around and tried to remember where he was when he came in and talked to Kevin. He retraced his steps, looked down at the shelf displaying potions and—
"Ah!" he reached down and picked them up. Their familiar jingle was a comfort. "I did set them down. And I am very grateful that you let me come back in and check."
Chloe kept a good distance from him with her hands crossed over her chest. "That's good. So you can get home now. Please, have a pleasant night." She disappeared through that back door again.
Matt sighed. He'd done damage with Chloe, and though he wanted her to do the show, he didn't want to force her to be near him. It was obvious from her body language she didn't like him. The distance, the not wanting to touch him, and the fact she wouldn't meet his eyes.
Yes Matt—once again you've charmed yourself right out of what could have been a wonderful—maybe.
He really did find her attractive. The fact she didn't like him made him all the more intrigued, but given his past with fatal attractions and being forced together with someone he didn't even like—he wasn't going to push things any further. Kevin had said he'd help him get in touch with a few of the other witches and psychics in town. There were a lot of them, given this was the Bible Belt.
He turned and headed back toward the front door just as Chloe screamed from the back room.
CHAPTER THREE
Chloe's heart pounded against her chest as she backed away from the effigy hanging in the middle of her office. A three-foot plastic witch hung from its neck over her desk. This wasn't happening…this had never happened to her. She had to get out of there—call the police—call Kevin—
She turned around to head back through the door, and ran headlong into Matt Hunter.
To her surprise he wrapped his arms around her and held her to his side. She looked up at his face but he was looking up at the hanging witch. He had a strong profile, with a strong jaw, perfectly curved nose, and nice lips. Those lips pulled back from perfect teeth she hadn't noticed before in look of disgust. "What the hell is that?"
At a glance, it was one of Chloe's worst nightmares. One of the fears she'd always secretly harbored before and after she opened up her shop and put herself out in public for ridicule. But after three years in business, nothing like this had ever happened before.
Until now.
"It's…" she cleared her throat. "It's an effigy. See it's one of those Halloween witches you can buy at a department store."
"Yeah I can see that," he looked down at her. His eyes were brown, framed by very long, very dark lashes. His dark brows furrowed. "But why the hell would someone want to put something like this in your office?" He looked back at it, showing her that beautiful profile again. "How did they get in?"
Matt was asking the questions she should be asking and not idly admiring his physique. Chloe pulled away from him and he let go. His attention was still fixed on the hanging witch. It wasn't that it was just hanging from the tiled ceiling—the fact it was hanging by its neck rattled Chloe more than anything else.
Pinned to its front was a sign made of poster board. Scrawled across it in marker was the message, "God Hates Witchs."
Who ever wrote it, couldn't spell.
"Who ever this crazy ass is, he can't spell witches right." Mark stood in front of it and looked up. "They wired it around the metal brace for the tile—and it looks like they did it in a hurry. See how the tile's still crooked?" He pointed and looked back at her.
Chloe nodded quickly, unsure of what else to do or say. She was almost frozen on the spot. And she was starting to shake.
Matt frowned as came to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Hey…look at me."
She did. This close, she really was amazed at how good looking he was. It was a classic artist's beauty.
"Do you have a good working relationship with the local cops?"
Chloe nodded. "Yeah. When I wanted to open the shop, I went to them to see if they thought it'd be a problem. You know, given this is the south and I was going to announce myself as a psychic—"
"That makes sense." He searched her eyes. "And they were good with it?"
"They were supportive. So when I opened Mesa Cove and nothing really happened, we were both pretty happy. A few of the officers come in now and then and buy things."
He smiled. It was a beautiful smile. Chloe closed her eyes. What am I doing? Am I focusing on him because otherwise I'd run out the door screaming?
She needed an anchor. Something earthy and tangible for her to hold onto. She also noticed all warnings of danger were gone when she touched him. Was this the danger? This warning? Was he somehow responsible for it? The idea seemed impossible since he was never near her office.
Matt let go of her and pulled his phone from his pocket. "I'm going to call the police so they can see this, okay? Why don't you go back into the front and calm down?"
Chloe nodded as she moved like a zombie through the door and sat on the stool in front of her register. After a few seconds of pulling herself together, she took several white candles out from under the counter and lit them, filling her thoughts with safety, peace, and calm. Then she grabbed a candle from the shelf, a vanilla scented one, and lit it. She was setting it on the front table in front of the door when she caught a movement outside the store's glass windows.
The parking lot was empty, except for her car and Matt's. Matt's was several yards from the front door, but hers was parked along the curb. Had she locked it before she led Matt inside? She narrowed her eyes as she watched the shadows and the cars moving along the main street in Roswell. Should she go back outside and check her car? Was who ever hung up the witch still hanging around?
"Hey."
Chloe jumped and yelled when Matt touched her shoulder.
He held up his hands when she turned to look at him. "Oh sorry. The cops are on their way." Matt frowned. "What's with all the candles—what's wrong? Why are you staring at the parking lot?"
Taking a deep breath, Chloe put her hand on the table with the vanilla candle. "I ah…the candles are white candles. White is for healing and cleansing."
He looked skeptical. "Really?"
"Yes. Don't poo-poo something just because you don't understand it." She pointed at the windows. "And I thought I saw something out there. Near your car. And I'm not sure if my car's locked."
He reached out and
gently pulled her away from the front. "Then you need to get away from the windows. If this crazy person is still there, you're better off in here. We're going to wait for the cops." He led her back to the counter. She sat on her stool as he leaned against the wall, facing the front.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, Chloe decided she needed to talk, if for no other reason than to calm herself. "I think we…got off on the wrong foot."
He laughed. It was a pleasant sound. "I'll say. And that was my fault. I apologize and I mean it."
"It's okay. Given the portrayal of psychics in Hollywood and TV, it's not surprising."
"Oh no it's not that. My mom was like you—I mean she was always seeing things. She knew things before they happened." His soft laughter helped Chloe relax a little. "In fact, when I was little I thought everyone's mom did those things. It wasn't until High School that I realized mom was a bit different."
"Did it bother you? Were you ashamed of her?"
"Mom? Naw. I love her. And she was never wrong. Sometimes she was off the mark but she wasn't wrong."
Chloe was riveted to Matt's story. "What does that mean?"
"Well…the image she usually got, or words or whatever, weren't always clear. Sometimes it would be as simple as telling me to take the bus and not drive and I'd find out about a wreck on the road I usually drove. Or she would grab dad or me while walking, which would stop us, and something would happen where we would have been. Oh, the creepiest had been when she and my dad were about to cross the street. They were at a four-way, the light had switched for the left turners to go and the next switch would make it possible for them to cross. Mom suddenly tackled him from behind, which pushed the two of them into the road. The danger was a guy who'd decided he didn't want to stop at the light and drove up on the sidewalk and would have mowed them down if she hadn't shoved him."
Chloe's jaw dropped. "Wow."
"Mom is amazing. When I started college I met this girl. She was a few years older, a junior and she was wicked gorgeous. Just…everything I'd ever wanted in a girlfriend. For me, the moon rose and the sun set by her."
"Uh oh, that doesn't sound healthy."
He pointed at her. "That's what mom said. But I didn't listen. One night in a drunken happy stupor I asked her to marry me—and she said yes. She was going to be a lawyer and I wasn't going to be a ghost hunter. I wanted to be a mechanical engineer. The funny thing was," he shook his head as he folded his arms over his chest. "I got a job with this company that created haunted houses. Not the kind you see in amusement parks, but the serious kind where we went in and bought old houses, renovated them specifically for seasonal use."
"Seriously? You mean like Netherworld?"
He nodded. "A lot like that. Franchised company though. That's how we met, me and this girl. She was doing a volunteer gig with the legal team."
Chloe was completely fascinated now. This guy used to work on making haunted houses and now he investigated them for real ghosts. But she was more curious about his mom. "So…your mother didn't like the haunted house job or your girlfriend?"
"See that's where it got weird." He moved away from the wall and stood close to her at the counter. "She kept telling me I needed to quit the job. That it was dangerous. But I loved the job. It was a lot of fun figuring out how to scare the crap out of people who wanted to be scared. And I got pretty good at what I was doing—in fact I was so much better at it than school, I quit school. And that did not make her happy."
"I'll bet. But the job wasn't what she was warning you about?"
"Oh no, it was the house." He shifted and put a hand on the counter. Chloe noticed a silver band around his wrist with a medical caduceus on it. He had a medical alert. "We moved in together and made wedding plans. But when October first hit, I got incredibly busy keeping the house mechanics working. I would get in at four in the morning and sleep until noon, then I'd be back out getting ready for the next night. It was a lot of fun. But it made her crazy."
Chloe listened but she was straining to see what the medical alert was. It made him even more human to think of him as having some kind of medical problem. "Crazy like…frustrated crazy?"
"Eh…" he glanced at the front door. "I had a friend I worked on the house with. She was good at sensor triggers—I mean wicked good. And I built the actual scares. So we worked closely together. My girlfriend started to get real weirded out by it. Even when I told her Carmin was gay. She wouldn't believe it. It got to a point where I couldn't handle the nagging so I started sleeping at the house."
"The haunted house?"
"Yeah. Weird huh? Eventually I broke it off because my friends all thought she was a nut-case. After that," he shrugged. "I realized mom was right. The house tried to kill me."
"Huh?"
"Things in the house started messing up. And every time they did, I was the target. Long story," he waved at me as the parking lot filled with flashing blue and red lights. "I'll tell you about it later. Much later. After a fifth of tequila." He winked.
"Wait—what about your ex? So…what happened to her?"
"She tried to kill me." He held out his hand. "Let's give the cops the grand tour."
CHAPTER FOUR
Margo met him in the parking lot of the crew's temporary housing. The company had rented out several apartments at the Crossings Woodbridge off of Creekside Way for the week. Chloe's store was close to two miles away. It was past two in the morning when he drove up. He was tired but still keyed up.
His assistant's no-nonsense glare wasn't something he wanted to deal with at that moment. "Well?" She said as he shut the door of his car, locked it, and then grabbed his backpack out of the trunk.
"Well what?" Matt kept his voice low. "It's like I told you on the phone. Some nutcase broke into her shop and hung up this stuffed witch."
"But don't you think this sounds familiar?"
He'd started walking past her toward the stairs of his apartment. "Margo—it's not Sarah. I haven't heard from her in three years. I want to put that behind me."
"Isn't it a little coincidental? I mean, we come here to investigate this landmark house. We contact this psychic and then she gets a threat? It's just…it doesn't smell right."
"Right now, Margo, the only thing I can smell is vanilla." He turned and headed up the stairs to apartment 203.
Margo was right behind him. She had the one bedroom across from him. "Why do you smell vanilla?" She sniffed when he stopped at his door and looked for the key on his ring. "Why do you smell like vanilla?"
"Chloe was burning candles. You know," he said as he shoved the key in the lock and turned it. "Healing and calming stuff."
Margo laughed. "Like your mom does."
"Uh huh. A lot like mom." Matt opened the door, stuck his hand in and turned the light on before he stepped in. A part of him half expected to find another of those hanging witches in his living area. But no…the only thing greeting him were boxes of shipped equipment, an open suitcase with his clothing piled inside, and the smell of stale Chinese food.
Once inside, he tossed his keys on the mantel of the small fireplace and set his bag down. Margo followed him in and shut the door. "You like her."
Matt's brain was a bit fuzzy from being tired, but he understood what Margo was getting at. "I think I was judging her on stereo types. I mean, you and I've worked with a shit-load of psychic fakes and flakes for a long time. Why should this one be any different?"
Margo moved past him to the fridge and grabbed two Rolling Rock beers from the door. She opened one and handed it to him. When he shook his head, she put the unopened one back and drank half of the open one. "You're saying this one's real because she's nice to look at?"
He nodded absently. "Yeah…she is that. And she doesn't feel…" he paused a few seconds before he shrugged. "I don't know. She doesn't feel fake. There's no ego between her and the rest of the world. Which is why I think that effigy scared the hell out of her."
"Did it threaten her?"
> Matt yawned and rubbed at his eyes. "Can't say. Sheriff Harhmon told me to keep things quiet while they investigate. You know, keep things hidden from the press. His deputy took a few pictures and promised to have an article in the local paper in the morning." He checked his watch. It'd stopped. He shook it on his wrist and glared at it. "Or later this morning. My watch stopped."
"Maybe it's your psychic." Margo finished the beer and tossed it into a recycle bin. "So did you get her to sign on?"
Matt hung his head. "No. I completely forgot about the house. Dammit. I'll…I'll call her later and see if she'll reconsider. Though I'm not sure I really want her too."
"Why not?"
"Well, part of our whole schtick is to disprove this crap. Prove that ghosts and demons and all that crap doesn't exist. That means making fun of her and making her look like a fool. And given the respect I saw with the Sheriff and Deputy tonight—I'm not sure that's a good way to go. Chloe's a town favorite and if we try and trash her reputation, we might end up on the pointy end of a mob." Not to mention, he didn't want to do it for personal reasons.
He really liked her.
"You're serious?" Margo folded her muscular arms over her chest. "You? You're afraid of making a psychic look bad? The guy that destroyed the reputation of the Lauraville Ghost Whisperer?"
Matt rubbed at his forehead. He wanted a shower. He wanted a pillow. And he wanted Margo to leave. He'd known her so long, just telling her to get out shouldn't worry him.
But now it did. And he didn't know why. "And she sued."
"That's not the point I'm trying to make."
He ran his fingers through his hair. "Margo, I want to go to bed."
She approached him and put her arms around him. He leaned into her embrace and inhaled her perfume. It was always there. Musky and sometimes a turn on.
Margo kissed the top of his head. "Go to bed. I'll wake you about ten if you're not already up and maybe you can get Chloe Stohl to agree. We start setting up tomorrow afternoon and the test run is tomorrow night. Then it's Halloween and showtime."
October Ghosts (A Southern Romance Monthly) Page 2
