Kopeleski searched about the table and on the floor nearby with frantic, jerky motions. Mary Ellen put her hand in her pocket, pulled the medal out and bent to the floor.
“She dropped the medal,” Ry said.
“Is this it?” Giselle heard from inside the house. Mary Ellen reached toward the floor.
“Don’t touch it!” Kopeleski shouted. “I’ve spent a lot of time cleansing it of all psychic energies except that of its original owner. We don’t want to pollute it with the energy of any other person before the séance. Who knows what kind of static interference it would cause our efforts if someone else handled it. Only Madam should touch it at this point.”
“Uh-oh,” Giselle said.
“Yeah,” Ry agreed.
Madam Divinity kneeled, picked up the medal and held it reverently in her hand. Then she rose and placed it at the center of the table.
“Well, I think I should be going. My boyfriend did sound pretty urgent about wanting to see me.” Mary Ellen backed toward the door as she tried to make her excuses.
“Oh no, my dear, we are just getting started. I’m sure you will find this fascinating,” said Kopeleski, ushering Mary Ellen, who had edged to the doorway of the room, back toward the round table.
“There aren’t enough chairs. And I really should go.” Mary Ellen tried to pull away from the grip Kopeleski had on her arm, but he held her firmly.
“Oh, that won’t be a problem. We can just pull up another chair. We can’t possibly let you leave now.” The grossness of his smarmy tone was exceeded only by the cloying way he stroked Mary Ellen’s arm.
Mary Ellen looked from side to side, like a small animal trapped in a cage, but took a seat with the others. “I don’t know. I guess I—” Mary Ellen’s cell phone stopped transmitting.
Oh no. She’d trapped her best friend in a house with crazy wizard, a loony medium, and who knew who else. Giselle needed to get closer. She might have to save her friend from human sacrifice or something.
Giselle debated whether she could jump the short distance from the top of Kopeleski’s stairs to the balcony. The window from the balcony into the house was open. From there she’d be able to hear and reach Mary Ellen in an emergency. She started to explain her idea to Ry and saw that he was watching the house through the binoculars. No. He’d probably try to convince her not to do it. She didn’t have time for that conversation. They might be tying Mary Ellen up for the human sacrifice even now. Although, Ry would be able to see that. But still. She couldn’t be too careful with poor Mary Ellen’s life.
Ry didn’t notice Giselle slip across the street. Or if he did, he didn’t do anything to stop her. Maybe he was okay with it. As Giselle ran up the stairs to Kopeleski’s front door, she glanced back to see Ry gesturing and waving. Maybe not so okay as she’d thought. In fact, he appeared a bit perturbed.
Did he just make the gesture she thought he did?
Studiously ignoring his waving arms, she stretched one leg toward the balcony. She balanced on the ball of the foot of the other leg. If her limbs would miraculously grow a couple inches longer in the next five seconds this would be easy. As it was, the extension made her wish she’d more faithfully attended her yoga classes.
Giselle gave a hop and grabbed at the balcony railing with her outstretched hand. The wrought iron shuddered at the impact of her leap. Giselle held on and pulled herself over the balcony railing. She crouched on the other side. No one in the house seemed to notice the noise or movement outside. One step. Two. Then she crouched under the window and leaned over a window box full of plants and flowers. Her eyes just cleared the windowsill as she peeked inside.
Evidently the proceedings had commenced. The lights had been lowered and candles lit the room. The assembly sat around the round table. They had their joined hands atop it. All, that is, except for Madam Divinity. She sat with a person on either side of her, touching her sleeve lightly. Madam held the medal in her cupped palms and appeared to be in a deep in a trance.
“Well?” Kopeleski’s impatient tone startled Madam.
“The impressions are confused,” Madam said, frowning. “There are several energies on this object. The strongest is female, not male.”
“What? That can’t be.” Kopeleski looked around accusingly then back at Madam. “You must be wrong. I am very disappointed. I was told you were a strong medium. What you say can’t be true. I cleansed this item myself. Try again,” he demanded.
Madam glowered at him then closed her eyes in concentration. “The impression is definitely female. There are disturbing elements all around her, chaotic and violent. But there is also a growing affection surrounding her.” Madam opened her eyes. “This woman is alive. She has not passed into the next realm. I see that this woman will have great love but great tribulation. I see a harridan in her life. A mother-in-law who hates her.” Madam paused. “Aha! I know this person. I read this person today. I am certain that the energy on this medal is from that horrible Giselle something-or-other.”
“Giselle Hunter,” Kopeleski growled with a malevolent grimace twisting his features. “She was here earlier. She must have touched the medal. I knew she was a toxin, poisoning all she came into contact with.”
Now that was a bit extreme. A toxin? A poison?
“I can’t believe any man would fall for that ridiculous woman,” Madam continued to grouse. “To top it all off, she’s fat.”
Fat? Being called a toxin was bad enough, but this? It was just too much. Giselle barely contained her urge to jump through the window to claw out Madam’s eyes.
“I assure you the next time I see that woman―” Kopeleski’s threat trailed off. Rage burned almost red in his eyes. Must be the candlelight.
Giselle decided she’d better get off the guy’s balcony. Kopeleski wasn’t using Mary Ellen as a human sacrifice. But it appeared that he wouldn’t be squeamish about using her for one if he got his hands on her.
Giselle edged back toward the railing when the unthinkable occurred. The Scooby Doo themed tones of Giselle’s cell phone rang out into the night and through to Kopeleski’s parlor. She looked down at the offending instrument in her hand. Dammit. She hadn’t turned it off. Who could be calling now? Of course it was Willie. She jammed the off button but…too late. Kopeleski’s eyes met hers through the open window. Oops. Better jump down to the sidewalk below instead of to the porch. Much safer to break a leg than to meet Kopeleski on his porch steps.
Swinging one leg and then the other over the railing, she had a quick impression of Ry running across the street. Giselle closed her eyes and leaped forward. When she landed, she ended up sprawled facedown. But it didn’t feel like sidewalk paving underneath her. It wasn’t soft but not bone breaking either. It had a familiar feel. It felt like Ry. Giselle opened her eyes and saw she was right.
“This is getting to be a habit,” Ry said. “It’d be nice if we could do this where I had something soft to lie on.”
“Okay, next time you pick the spot.” Giselle smiled down into his face.
“How dare you interfere with my research?" Above them on the balcony, Kopeleski screeched furiously. “I will have you arrested. Everyone saw you trespassing on my property. You were on my balcony, peeping into my window.”
He spun around to the others in the assembly. Several leaned out of the window to get a good view of the goings on. “You all saw her, didn’t you?” The shaking heads in response didn’t please Kopeleski.
“You saw her, didn’t you?” he said, addressing Mary Ellen.
“I didn’t see a thing,” she said with a saccharine tone.
This served to further enrage Kopeleski. He pointed an accusing finger at the end of a ramrod right arm in the general direction of the assembly. “You are all useless. Get out. And you―” He swung around with a flourish to tower over Giselle and Ry on the sidewalk below, and his swinging arm struck the table on the balcony, toppling the lantern. The lit candle within the lantern fell into the window box.
> “Urmmm. Mr. Kopeleski?” Giselle tried to warn, pointing toward the plants and flowers, which had started to smoke. She scrambled up and Ry followed.
People exited in a rush from Kopeleski’s front door, including Mary Ellen who winked at Giselle and kept moving to her car. The image of rats and a sinking ship came to mind.
Only Madam Divinity remained inside the Kopeleski house, still leaning out the open window. “Aha! I told you that she was involved. And you insulted me by saying that it wasn’t possible. I know that horrible fat woman’s aura. And who is that down there with her?”
Was Ry sort of skulking behind her? Was he hiding? Na, not possible.
The plants burst into full-fledged flame.
“Fire,” Madam screamed, jerking upward and away from the window. Something flew out of her hand and into the flames. “Oh no. The medal.”
“You stupid woman. How could you have dropped it?” Kopeleski started beating at the fire that had now spread to other pots on the balcony. He seemed more concerned with the medal than with the fire creeping within inches of the bottom of his tux.
All of a sudden, Ry appeared with a garden hose that trailed from his hands and back toward the direction of his house. He turned the nozzle and water sprayed forth. Giselle, who stood under the balcony, got doused. When, finally, the water dripped to a stop, Giselle looked up to see that the fire was out. Steam seemed to rise from a dripping-wet Kopeleski. Drenched, he was as mad as wet wizard. Uh-oh.
Madam sputtered and shook the water off her hair. She looked like a shipwreck victim. Oh too bad. Not. She deserved it. Fat indeed.
“Let’s get out of here,” Ry said.
“If he were a real psychic wizard he would have seen what was going to happen.” Giselle crossed her hands over her chest defensively.
Ry answered with an arched eyebrow. “Well, I don’t need psychic ability to see that he’s at the head of our list of suspects for those attempts on your life. If he didn’t have a motive to kill you before tonight, he sure does now.”
It was Sunday, 12:23 a.m. Giselle still had no ghost and she was wet. But at least Ry had made headway by starting to formulate a list of people who wanted to kill her. That made her feel better. Not a lot better, but better.
Chapter Seven
Wet and muddy. That’s what Giselle was by the time she and Ry reached his house. The wet was from Ry’s hose, but the muddy was from the clumps of dirt Kopeleski had pelted her with as she’d run away from the scene of the fire. The dirt must have come from the flowerpots on the wizard’s balcony because pieces of petunia, along with the mud, decorated her hair. Well, it could have been worse. Maybe. A little. Kopeleski could have thrown stones.
Ry—ever the gentleman—had offered to let her take a shower before going back to her hotel. Gentleman. Yeah, sure. But she’d taken him up on the offer anyway. It wouldn’t look good to be seen in the hotel lobby twice in less than four hours, wet and bedraggled. Hotel staff would start wondering whether she had competed in some sort of strange wet t-shirt contest.
Maybe she had without being aware of it. Yeah, with her luck, she’d unknowingly starred in some extraterrestrial reality show. Planet Earth’s funniest home videos. Somewhere in another galaxy a four-eyed host introduced the next clip. “And now let’s see how many times in one night we can get Giselle Hunter into dripping duds.” Laugh track.
When Giselle emerged from the shower, she slipped back into her panties. However, as she looked at the grimy pile that was her clothing, she knew she couldn’t bear to put any of that mess back on. Giselle glanced around her. The only other garment she could find was hung on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. A denim shirt that obviously belonged to Ry.
She lifted it off the hook and held it to her face. It had that unique Ry smell. She had to be crazy. Here she was, in the bathroom, sniffing clothes and getting a buzz just from the smell of a man.
Sliding her arms into the garment, she decided Ry wouldn’t mind if she borrowed it. The shirt fell to mid-thigh. Giselle examined herself in the bathroom mirror. The modest outfit could pass for a dress, she assured herself. So what if she was practically naked underneath.
Gathering her own dirty clothes in her hands, Giselle opened the bathroom door and crept into Ry’s bedroom. She needn’t have bothered trying to sneak about because there he was, in front of her. Ry waited for her on the other side of the bedroom, all bare-chested and scrumptious in blue jeans. A golden-skinned God. Just the thinnest trace of blond hair trailed downward from his navel to disappear beneath his jeans. What an enticing trail.
Giselle’s eyes met Ry’s across the room. She was in trouble now. Ry walked toward her all loose-limbed and predatory. If he was the predator, then that made her the prey. Very willing prey.
Wanton Vixen Giselle whispered in one ear, Yeah, baby. Go for it.
Rational Angel Giselle whispered in the other ear, Don’t mix business and pleasure.
Oooo. Pleasure. Vixen Giselle again.
Ry crept closer.
Rational Angel warned, Don’t mess with him. He’ll hurt you. He’s obviously a player. Just look at him.
Wanton Vixen argued, Oooh yeah. Just look at him! All chiseled jaw, chiseled pecs, and probably chiseled something else.
He’d almost closed to within touching distance now.
Rational Angel reappeared. You barely know him. You haven’t even been on one date. He won’t respect a slut.
Heck…Who cares about that?, Wanton Vixen said.
Wait ’til the third date at least.
Wanton Vixen was quiet a moment. She’s right. You gotta play a little hard to get. You gotta wait at least until after the third date.
“Urmmm. Do you have a washer and dryer?” Giselle asked with what she hoped was a nonchalant tone. She held up the dirty clothes in her right hand.
With his green eyes glittering in amusement, she knew her tone hadn’t discouraged him. He just kept walking toward her. Inexorably. Inevitably. He stopped directly in front of her. Without looking away from her eyes, his right hand came up to stroke her cheek. His left took the bundle from her hand and tossed it into the air behind him before his hand returned to caress up her arm to her shoulder.
Ry leaned forward and gently kissed her lips. His mouth opened on hers and his tongue licked her mouth. Her lips widened and his tongue slipped inside. He had a delicious minty taste, as if he’d just brushed his teeth. Oooh, he was perfect.
Giselle’s eyes drifted shut. Sparks shot across the blackness of her eyelids as Ry’s tongue danced with hers once more. Then he pulled back. Giselle practically moaned at the loss. She felt almost drugged as she opened her suddenly heavy lids.
Like a mischievous cat who’d discovered some very sweet cream, he smiled. Hmmm. That must mean she was the cream. Then Ry tugged Giselle forward while he stepped back. Her palms braced against the planes of his chest as she resisted the movement. But she only resisted a little. Ooooh, his chest was hard.
“Remember you promised I could have something soft to lie on next time you were on top of me,” Ry said. He took another step.
“Why yes. I think I did,” Giselle gulped out.
“You promised I could pick the spot.”
“Yes.”
“The bed is soft,” Ry said with a nod toward the bed behind him. He tugged her a little harder and Giselle fell forward a step.
“When you’re right, you’re right,” Giselle admitted.
“So, I pick the bed.”
His wry grin was sexy and devastating to her rational mind. His logic seemed so perfect, although she was sure there was a flaw in there somewhere.
“Well, I did promise,” Giselle admitted.
At her agreement, he fell backward onto the bed. Giselle lay sprawled on top of him for the third time in two days. Ry buried his hand in her hair and brought her face down to his. His tongue licked along her closed lips until they opened for another deep kiss. His lips were hot. His tongue was warm and sens
ual.
She pulled away to sit up, her knees on either side of his jeans-clad hips. He was spread out beneath her on the white bedspread like an endless banquet just waiting to be feasted upon. She remembered the advice of both Rational Angel and Wanton Vixen.
“I don’t think I should be doing this. We haven’t been on even one date,” Giselle said, wiggling a bit and starting to edge off his body. Ry moaned.
“You’re wrong.” He held her knees in place. “If you count you’ll see that we’ve had at least three dates.” Ry’s hands caressed upward to her thighs.
She felt the calluses on his palms as they moved under the denim shirt.
Giselle stopped his hands when they reached her hips. “Three? I don’t remember three dates.”
“We met at the café last night. I remember being bowled over by you on sight,” he coaxed.
That was true. She allowed his hands to inch upward to her waist as a reward.
“It was probably my incomparable beauty and grace that did it.”
“I think your gracefulness is kind of cute.”
Cute. Great. Cute was okay. But devastating beauty would have been better.
“Then for our first date we had drinks at the Pink House,” Ry continued. “At least I had drinks,” he ended wryly.
“Uh-huh. As I recall, the drinks were on you.” Giselle said as Ry’s wandering right hand caressed the small of her back. His fingers played her piano keys. What had she been holding out for again? Oh yeah. She didn’t want him to think she was easy.
“But that’s only one date,” she gasped out as she pushed at his hands. They didn’t budge.
“Our second date was lunch in the closet. You made me crazy in that closet. You teased me unmercifully in that closet.” One of Ry’s hands lowered from the small of her back to stroke her cheek, and it wasn’t the cheek of her face.
Omigod. She thought she would explode just from that caress.
“Ah yes, I remember now,” she panted, suddenly breathless. She allowed his other hand to inch farther up to her rib cage. “But what about our third date?” She could barely get the words out.
A Girl, a Guy, and a Ghost Page 10
