“You’ve seen it how many times?”
“Only the two, but the scream comes every night at one thirty. Except last night, it came at around ten,” Teddy replied.
“There’s a scream?”
Teddy explained, then continued, “We hear the scream every night, but I only saw the ghost two nights—because I was in bed the other nights when the scream came. And I wasn’t going to look out the window to investigate.” She gave a wry smile.
“Was last night’s sighting before or after you discovered the cottage had been ransacked?” asked Orbra.
Teddy gaped up at her. “You know about the break-in?”
Orbra shrugged. “My granddaughter, Helga, is one of Joe Longbow’s local cops. She told me you’d be coming in today to make a formal report. There’s not much kept quiet here in Wicks Hollow.”
“Oh—Officer van Hest. I didn’t make the connection. Yes, we’re going to the station after we finish here.” Teddy took a bite of what appeared to be the infamous lavender-blueberry scone, and her eyes widened with delight. “This is incredible,” she fairly moaned, then took another bite of the warm, crumbly scone buttered with clotted cream. “The best I’ve ever tasted.”
“Well?” Iva said as she sneaked a pimiento sandwich off the tray. “When did the ransacking happen?”
“We noticed it after we saw the ghost. But we were just coming back from a—a walk when the ghost appeared at the top of the lighthouse, so the ransacking could have been done at any time after we left—we were gone for maybe ninety minutes at the most. But Oscar says it’s not the ghost who did the ransacking because whoever it was wore a pair of gloves. He found them.”
“No, no, it wouldn’t be the ghostly presence,” Iva said sagely. “You’ve only seen it at the top of the lighthouse, and the specter falls off then disappears. There’s no reason to believe it has broached the house itself.”
“So the ransacking is unrelated to the ghost,” Juanita said.
“Possibly,” Iva said. “Or, possibly, the ghost decided to show itself to the ransackers. That could be an explanation for its early appearance.” She looked at Teddy. “It was trying to scare them off, perhaps.”
“Yes, I wondered the same thing,” Teddy replied—which was true, but she hadn’t thought it until just this moment. Still, she had thought of it.
“So either the ghost was protecting its house from being messed up or damaged, or the person ransacking it was known as a danger to the ghost.”
“I guess that follows,” Teddy said, though she was certain, given time, she could think of at least three other reasons the ghost might have appeared early last night. “But I don’t know how we’re going to figure out what the ghost wants until we figure out who it is. Or was.”
“Exactly.”
“But what’s more important, at this point,” Oscar said, suddenly joining the conversation, “is figuring out who broke in—and, just as importantly, why they want us to leave.”
“Exactly,” Iva said again.
“We found some clues,” Teddy said. “Some footprints by the side of the lighthouse that’s farthest from the main entrance and parking area—they’re hiking boots. And it looks like a boat was dragged up onshore there on the island’s beach. Probably last night, because the marks looked fresh. We got pictures of them before the rain got too hard and washed it away.”
“Not many reasons someone would beach a boat on that little island,” Orbra said, bending over to refill Teddy’s teacup. “How’s that not-Tetley tea going down there, young man?”
“Don’t tell her I said this, but it’s better than my grandmother used to make,” Oscar replied with a smile. “And your scones? Hers aren’t even close.”
“All right, then,” Orbra said, looking mollified. “Now you finish up your sandwiches there and head on over to the police station. Helga’s been waiting for you.”
“How did she know— Oh, right,” Teddy said, holding up her hand. “Everyone knows everything in Wicks Hollow.”
Eleven
Officer Helga van Hest possessed the same calm efficiency as her grandmother, and Teddy liked and trusted her right away. Helga had strawberry-blond hair that she wore in a no-nonsense chignon, and was a taller, slenderer, and more elegant version of her grandmother. Her blue and gray police uniform was starched crisp, and her fingernails were short and painted with a clear gloss. Teddy approved of the fact that Helga, who had a pretty oval face and intelligent hazel eyes, didn’t completely disdain her femininity, and wore pale pink lipstick and small gold studs in her ears.
Not that Teddy didn’t like or trust Captain Longbow—she absolutely did—but when Helga insisted on taking over from her boss’s hunting and pecking on the computer keyboard in order to print out the form for the incident report, Teddy cheered inside.
This was after the police chief had struggled for five minutes to find the right file to open, because for some reason, his computer had become disconnected from the network. And then to figure out how to unjam the printer’s paper feed. And all that was after he couldn’t get the computer mouse to work for some inexplicable reason.
“He’s a damned good cop and an excellent police chief,” Helga confided to Teddy, “but the chief’s a walking time bomb when it comes to anything electronic. All he has to do is get in the vicinity of anything computerized and it goes berserk. I think it’s his aura or something—there’s no other explanation for it. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even let him into the break room, because that’s where we keep the fax machine. Once, he stopped in the doorway and the machine just went bonkers. And no one was using it.”
Oscar showed Joe and Helga the rubber glove with the paint on it, and Teddy told them about the footprints by the side of the cottage and the mark of a boat’s keel on the beach. “Oscar took pictures because by now, the rain will have washed all the prints away,” she said.
Joe reached for Oscar’s phone, but Helga gave him an arch look and intercepted it. “Best not to let the chief touch it,” she said. “He could delete the entire contents without pressing a button.”
“Now, Helga,” Joe said. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”
She lifted a perfectly arched sandy-brown brow. “Might I remind you of the time you merely cut the tape on the box with your new, fully loaded computer tablet?”
The chief pursed his lips and changed the subject. “Oscar, I wanted you to know the USCG is looking into what you saw out there—the blue and green boat with the men dropping something over the side. So far they haven’t found anything, but they’re still looking. I’ve also got Helga asking around about a boat that meets your description at any of the local marinas.”
“So far, nothing, but I’m going to call the sheriff’s office and put the word out there,” said Helga as she slid the incident report in front of Teddy. “You can sign on the bottom here, and Dr. London, I’ll have a copy of your statement printed off in just a second… Cap, how about stepping out of the room for a few? Give the machine a break from your aura?”
Joe grumbled, but rose from a tweed office chair that looked older than he was. “I’ll send this off to the lab to see if they can raise any fingerprints on it,” he said, holding up the plastic bag with the paint-streaked glove. “But this is little Wicks Hollow, not Chicago or New York, or even Grand Rapids. We aren’t going to hear back on this for a good while.”
“That’s right,” Helga said, grimacing a little. “I got spoiled working in Chicago, but unless there’s a homicide to light a fire under their behinds, the lab doesn’t see any reason to get on our stuff.”
“Last fall when Baxter James found Marcus Levin—poor man got clubbed with his own five iron—the lab got on things pretty quick,” Joe said in his easy voice.
“Well, I’m not really holding out for a homicide on this case,” Oscar said firmly. “A break-in is plenty enough to deal with. Teddy, are you ready? We’ve got to get you a new computer.”
&
nbsp; They drove to Grand Rapids, which was about an hour away and the biggest city near Wicks Hollow, to get her a new laptop.
“Thank goodness I have the flash drive,” she said more than once, and dug in her purse to check that it was still there at least three times. “I’m glad your laptop wasn’t destroyed.”
“Same here, but at least my work is easy,” Oscar said dryly. “Just throw a few things on a plate and stick it under the microscope and my work is done.”
Teddy laughed. “I’m sorry—that was my neurotic-writer-on-deadline personality talking when I said that.”
“I figured.” He reached over and curled his grip over her hand, and they drove the rest of the way back to the cottage with their fingers entwined.
It was dark by then, and Teddy was aware of her body tensing with apprehension as they drove over the bridge to the postage-stamp island. What would they find this time?
But the cottage sat, seemingly undisturbed, with the lights they’d left on burning in the windows. As she climbed out of the Jeep, Teddy couldn’t help looking up at the lighthouse, which rose over them like a forbidding dark tower.
“Tomorrow, we’re going back up there. To the top of the lighthouse. We have to,” she said, when she felt him ready to protest. “We haven’t been up there since that first night.”
“All right,” he said, fitting the key to the lock.
They curled up on the sofa in the living room, which had been cleared of what was left of his lab equipment, and, at her insistence, streamed a few episodes of The Big Bang Theory via his Wi-Fi hub.
“We need something light and airy,” she said.
He seemed to understand that she was apprehensive, and instead of making any seductive moves—which, she allowed, wouldn’t have been rebuffed by her—he just tucked her under his arm on the sofa and stroked her hair as they watched.
Eventually, she fell into a deep sleep, slumped on the couch until the nightly scream startled them both awake.
“Back on time,” she muttered, looking at the clock. “One thirty, on the nose. Bastard.”
And then, knowing she was safe, and feeling cherished, she followed him back to his bedroom to curl up on the bed next to him.
The next morning, Teddy woke first. Still fully clothed in the boxers and tee she’d put on for the television show, she had a moment of regret that that was the case. But last night would not have been the right time to act on her increasing attraction and affection for Oscar.
Having the ugliness and uncertainty hanging over them would have marred what she expected—anticipated—would be a delightful Mutually Enjoyable Night.
And she appreciated that Oscar seemed to sense that as well. That was, she realized, one of the reasons she was really falling for him.
Really falling for him.
Like, falling falling for him.
The idea made her a little queasy, but in a hot, happy, electric sort of way. She hadn’t ever felt so comfortable, or so understood by anyone, ever.
He was just so cute. And smart. And kind. And very sexy, with his hair all rumpled and his face creased from sleep. The dark blue tee he wore clung to strong, square shoulders, and gapped a little to expose a bit of collarbone and the patch of hair that grew on his chest.
Looking down at the coppery stubble that had sprung up overnight along his jaw, she couldn’t resist leaning over to nibble his lips. And then to fully cover his mouth carefully, softly, with hers.
She felt his breathing change, the slight shift in his body when he awoke, and then he was kissing her back as one arm lazily slid around her to pull her up close against him.
“Mmm,” he said, burying his face in her hair. “You smell as good as you feel, lying here next to me.”
She rolled over on top of him, one leg sliding between his as she pulled his face back to hers. A curtain of her hair fell over their faces, and he gently brushed it away as his other hand slid down to cover her butt.
“You have,” he said, then kissed the corner of her mouth, “the sexiest rear end I’ve ever seen.” He gently patted it. “I’ve been dying to get my hands on it ever since the first time I saw you in the hot spring pool.”
“Well then, Dr. London,” she said, low in her throat, “what are you waiting for? Get your hands on it.”
He laughed against her mouth and slid both hands down to cover her butt as she arched down into him and his very awake erection. “Mmm,” she murmured. “Someone’s up.”
“I’ll say.” With a quick movement, he flipped them over, her hair and the blanket tangling them up awkwardly and a little painfully (on her end).
Teddy began to laugh as they tried to extricate themselves without pulling out her hair or falling off the bed, and they were just getting back to business when he froze and lifted his head as if to listen.
“No,” he said, falling back on the pillow and pulling her with him. “I refuse to hear that.”
But Teddy had heard the car drive up, and, laughing again, she pulled out of his gentle grip. “It might be Declan.”
“So? He’ll understand. He’s a guy.”
“Or the police,” she said, teasingly avoiding his reach. “It could be Joe Cap.”
“He’s a guy—he’ll understand too.” Oscar reached for her, but she danced away, noticing with pleasure how his eyes followed her.
But it was neither Joe Cap nor Declan—nor anyone of the male persuasion.
“Oh, shit,” Teddy said when she saw who was getting out of the powder-blue Cadillac SUV. “It’s Maxine. And Juanita. And Iva.”
That got Oscar popping up out of the bed, his eyes wide. “No way. What time is it? What in the hell are they doing here?”
He was frantically looking for appropriate articles of clothing when she slipped from the bedroom and made a mad dash through the cottage to the other side—where her clothes were. She was not answering the door in her boxers and tee, especially after all the discussion about jumping bones from the day before.
She heard the peremptory knocking on the front door just as she yanked a sports bra into place, but ignored it. Oscar was closer, plus he’d had the proximity of clothing, and so was probably already dressed.
In fact, she took her time—pinning up her hair, brushing her teeth, and finally coming out to save Oscar after she decided on a happy yellow sundress that she knew looked particularly good on her. She even checked out her too-big butt in the mirror.
But hey, if Oscar thought it looked good, then that was fine with her. With a smile and a hope for good things to come, she left her room.
“Good morning, ladies,” she said when she joined them in the living room. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“We brought Sunday Morning Scones,” Iva said, offering a paper sack. “From Orbra’s.”
“It’s a bribe,” Maxine said in a stage whisper as Oscar took the bag. “She wants to see your ghost.”
And that was how it turned out that a whole stampede of them—Maxine, Iva, Teddy, and Oscar—began to clamber up the steps to the top of the lighthouse. Juanita and Bruce Banner elected to stay on the ground level so he could investigate the grounds—and so his mistress could sample the scones. She also offered to make coffee for everyone, and no one argued with that idea.
Maxine led the way up the one hundred and sixty-eight stairs with more speed and efficiency than Teddy had anticipated. That wasn’t to say the old curmudgeon sped up them, but she kept her pace steady and smooth.
It was during the climb that Teddy concluded Maxine didn’t actually need her walking stick for ambulation purposes.
When they reached the top, Oscar thoughtfully eased ahead of the troop of females and pushed open the door to the lantern room so the bats could escape before anyone set foot inside.
“What a gorgeous view,” Iva said, slipping past Maxine to be the first to walk in. “Now, show me exactly where you saw the Ghostly Presence.” Her cornflower eyes were lit up like stars, and Teddy couldn’t help but share her en
thusiasm.
It was a lot less creepy up here in the middle of the day, with the morning sun streaming and the sky cerulean and cloudless.
“All right,” Teddy said, leading Iva out onto the open gallery. A breeze blew in from the lake, and Teddy paused just to inhale the fresh scent. Then she showed Iva exactly where they’d been standing when the door blew closed.
“Now,” said Iva. “Do you remember what you were doing at that time? You’d already been up here for a few minutes, correct? And then suddenly the door slammed shut. I suspect it might have been a reaction to something you said or did—for there was no other warning, was there?”
“I thought the same thing,” Teddy replied. “And it makes sense, because we were talking about Stuart Millore falling or jumping from up here, and I said, ‘maybe he was pushed,’ and that was when the door slammed closed.”
“Exactly what I suspected,” Iva said gleefully. “It sounds to me like the Ghostly Presence was trying to get your attention—to emphasize what you’d just said. To confirm it, so to speak. Then what happened?”
As she explained how they couldn’t open the door, Teddy noticed that Maxine and Oscar had not joined them on the exterior walkway. Instead, they had their heads together—one iron-gray one, one of fiery copper—and were looking down into the base of the huge, reflective prisms. They seemed to be having an intense conversation, complete with hand gestures and emphatic motions.
“So you couldn’t get the door open,” Iva said. “What happened after that?”
“We just…waited. Sat down and tried to figure out what to do, and to wait it out. I fell asleep, eventually,” Teddy said, “and then I remember waking up suddenly because it was so cold. Like, I felt as if I’d been plunged into an arctic lake. It was so sudden and such a sharp change in temperature that it woke me.”
Sinister Sanctuary: A Ghost Story Romance & Mystery (Wicks Hollow Book 4) Page 17
