Instinct kicked in, and she reached for the door handle.
* * *
The lights cut out in the house and Griff stopped in surprise. Okay. Perhaps the new owners didn’t want anyone to know they were here. Didn’t matter. He needed a tow, and the only way he’d get it was to make a call.
He made his way onto the porch, flashlight in his right hand and weapon tucked into the back waistband of his jeans. Last thing he expected was to need the weapon, but after the weird feelings he’d experienced at this house before, he didn’t want to take chances. He’d hated leaving Cassie in the car, but he wanted her safe. Of the two places, he was damned sure the car would prove safest. Before he could knock on the door, it opened on its own. Hinges didn’t creak, and the welcome was wide as the door swung all the way open and touched the wall with a delicate thud. Wind. The weather must have moved the door—it couldn’t have been latched well.
He shone the flashlight inside. “Hello? Anyone in here? Our car broke down in front of your house. We need to use a phone. Our cells aren’t working.”
Silence.
His flashlight poured through the doorway, and he thought he’d see old furniture. Lamps. Maybe pictures on the wall. Or perhaps the place lay empty. The flashlight beam hit a wall of darkness it couldn’t penetrate.
“What the—”
A twig snapped behind him, and he jerked around, reaching into his back waistband for his weapon.
“Jesus!” He gasped as his flashlight showed him the culprit. “I told you to stay in the car.”
Cassie blinked in the flashlight’s glare. “I’m not a marine. I don’t take orders well.”
“I could have shot you.”
She arrived beside him on the porch as he turned back to the doorway. “Something told me not to let you go into the house alone.”
He drew in a deep breath and left irritation behind.
“The door was open?” she asked.
“Looks like it.”
“I saw someone in there before. The lights were on.”
“I know.” He turned the flashlight onto the door again. Darkness swallowed up the light.
“That isn’t…” Her voice hitched. He heard fear in the sound, in her inability to complete the sentence.
Snow blew into his face, wind pushing the flakes faster and faster. Curiosity mixed with fear settling in his stomach like a lead ball.
“Stay behind me,” he said, knowing she wouldn’t leave him and return to the car, even if he begged.
Cassie did as he asked, and he walked into the blackness. The perception of solid darkness retreated as he crossed the threshold. He found a light switch to his right by the front door. He flipped the switch and nothing happened. Damn.
With one step and then two, he conquered the night. The flashlight cut through, showing him solid objects. A couch, two easy chairs, and a roll top desk sat in the living room. A big dark rug under the couch and the chairs looked as if rats had chewed on the ends. Old bookshelves held a few hardbacks and a small stack of magazines and newspapers. A must and dust smell hit his nose. The hardwood floor creaked underfoot. An old sliding glass door led out to the backyard. To the right was also a long hallway with three open doors. Beyond that lay a dead end. He saw an attic door, more a small square, in the ceiling at the end of the hall. He turned his light back to the living area and noticed the kitchen off the living room, which looked like it hadn’t been updated since the1970s.
“Doesn’t look like there’s anyone here.” Cassie’s voice came out of the darkness.
“You saw someone here.”
“I did.”
She sounded confused, and he couldn’t blame her. “Could be someone needs help. Let’s keep going.”
She followed as he made his way through the small kitchen to an equally small dining room. The long wood table had a place setting on it, the flashlight revealing a filled glass of water.
“There is someone here, Griff.”
“Maybe.” They passed through the dining room to yet another living room. It was empty. He went to the single door against the wall. It was locked. “This must be the garage.”
“Hello?” Cassie asked as they stood in the entrance to the hallway. “Is anyone home?”
Silence.
“I haven’t seen one phone in here anywhere,” he said in frustration. “Did you?”
“No. Maybe they’re just using a cell. A lot of people do that now.”
He walked ahead and before he reached the end of the hallway, a huge crack sounded under his feet and he went straight down into darkness. He didn’t have time to cry out or curse as he fell into a dark hole and landed on his back in hard packed earth.
“Griff!” Cassie called after him.
He gasped and coughed and sat up. “I’m okay. Its only about a ten foot drop.”
“Only a ten foot drop!” She sounded angry as hell. “How are you going to get out of there?”
He shone the flashlight this way and that. “There’s probably a drop-down ladder or something. Hold on while I look.”
Dust motes floated in the flashlight beam. Stygian darkness made it difficult to see far, even with the powerful light. The space looked about forty to fifty feet wide and approximately as many feet long. The fold down ladder with a crawl space door which would lead up to the far end of the hallway. “There’s a door in the floor. Can you see the end of the hallway?”
“Not very well.”
“Okay, I’m going to toss this flashlight up so you can see to get around that hole. Unless you can’t get around it.” He tossed the flashlight and hoped to hell she caught it.
“Got it.” Her voice sounded triumphant.
He heard her walking along the hallway, and in some places the wood creaked and groaned.
Jesus, this entire thing is a clusterfuck.
Fear rose and he said, “Be careful.”
He moved slowly toward the far north side of the room where the door in the flooring should be. She grunted and then a squeak split the air as she opened the crawl space door. Light came through and a ladder swung down.
“Who in their right mind builds a door like this into a basement?” she asked as he looked up.
“Damned if I know. Most crawl spaces aren’t this deep.”
Without taking another moment to survey the basement area, he took the ladder. Once up top, he closed the door and looked down the hallway at the hole in the floor. It wasn’t as wide as he thought. Barely enough for a body to fall through.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said. “I don’t care if we have to sit in the car all night.”
“I’m checking these rooms first to make sure there’s no one in here.”
Her weary sigh followed him, but she didn’t speak. He opened one door and swung it wide. A chest of drawers, double bed, trunk, and desk filled the room. Dust motes floated in the light beam.
“Weird.” She said, voice so quiet he almost couldn’t hear her. “There’s a bedspread. Papers and other junk on the desk. Why would someone leave all this?”
“Good question,” he said as he went to the next door.
The door opened with a haunted house squeak that almost hurt his ears. Inside more ordinary objects littered the room. Chest of drawers—two in fact. A table with sewing machine. Another double bed. They left that room and went to a third bedroom. This room was much smaller. The double bed left only room for a tiny chest of drawers and a small desk.
Last but not least was a bathroom that looked like it had last been updated in the eighties. Maybe.
“This is crazy.” Her voice came again, soft on his ears and a little afraid.
“You’re right. There isn’t anyone here.”
“That doesn’t make sense. I wasn’t imagining that I saw someone.”
He believed her, though he shouldn’t. If anyone had been here they should have seen them by now.
“There’s the attic.” He pointed the flashlight up at the door in the ceiling.
“But I’m not sure I want to look for anyone. Come on.”
He led the way, and they picked their way around the hole in the floor with cautious steps. Once down the hall and out the front door, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, my God.” Cassie’s voice was breathless.
Dumbstruck, he looked at the roses once more. Though covered in snowflakes, the roses now stood erect and undisturbed. He didn’t have one damned word for the evidence in front of his eyes. Because his eyes had betrayed him or he’d gone crazy. He stared at the blooms in the flashlight beam.
Cassie touched his arm, and rather than understand their hallucination, he grabbed her hand and hurried down the driveway. They hopped into the car. On instinct, he turned the ignition, and the car roared to life.
“Wonderful.” Her vocal relief echoed the one inside him.
Without questioning, he put the car in gear and eased away from the house. He made a U-turn and headed back to the resort.
As they moved away, she craned around to look at the house. “No.”
He slowed and glanced back at the house. “What is it?”
“Lights are on in the house again. We tried those light switches, Griff.”
“I know. Let’s get back to the resort and out of this snow.”
* * *
Cassie’s mind was blown. As she sat in her hotel room in one of the stick chairs, she watched Griff pace the center of the room from the small couch and coffee table to the king-sized bed. The adobe style fireplace in the other corner warmed her blood. Since they’d returned to the hotel a short time ago, they hadn’t discussed what happened at the house on the hill. His face had turned to rock before they reached the hotel and hadn’t changed.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
He stopped and sat on the bed. “That someone slipped us a hallucinogen at dinner. There’s no damn logical explanation for what we’ve seen. If you didn’t see the same things—hell, I’d check myself into a loony farm right now.”
Weary, she leaned over and untied her boots. “I can’t even think anymore.”
His gaze softened. “You need sleep.”
He’d left his coat on, but he unzipped it and tossed it on the couch. She’d planned on kicking him out of her room, but maybe she wouldn’t yet. She pulled her boots all the way off and headed to the mini bar.
“I need a drink after that.” She didn’t care if he thought she solved all her problems with liquor. Which she didn’t. “Maybe we should forget we ever saw it.” She opened the mini bar. “Want something?”
“No. Thanks.”
She opened a small plastic whiskey bottle and took a tentative sip. After closing the door and taking another sip, she settled on the bed next to him.
“Are you certain you’re all right?” She touched his forearm.
“Yeah. I’m fine. You?”
“Tired.” She shivered. “What happened to the car, Griff? Why did it start?”
“Beats the hell out of me.” He sounded almost angry.
“Okay, I’ll admit I’m spooked.” She didn’t want this. It made her feel stupid and perplexed beyond anything she’d experienced. “Do you…I hate to even admit this…maybe the place is haunted.”
He shook his head and looked her dead in the eyes. “Like I said before, I don’t believe in paranormal stuff. If I can’t see it, touch it, or feel it, it isn’t there.”
Impatience made her say, “Yeah, well, there are a lot of things you can’t see, touch or smell, and you know they exist. So that isn’t good criteria for disbelief.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “Touché. But I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“Okay then, if it isn’t a ghost, then what happened to the person I saw in the house and the lights? And the car? All those rumors about the house, and Dougray saying his sister went missing. There’s something seriously wrong with that house.” Doubt continued to fill his eyes, and she wondered what the hell it would take for him to admit the house was freaky. “I guess we can just forget it then.”
His gaze latched onto hers. “What?”
“The house. Let’s just forget it and never go back.”
She half expected him to argue, to say they must learn what was happening there.
Instead he said, “I’ll take the car to a garage in town tomorrow morning. It’s probably a short. As for what you saw…” He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You saw it, too. As we were driving away.”
“Right.”
She threw up her hands. “So we’re going to blow off this experience and pretend it didn’t happen?”
“I need to sleep on it.”
She yawned and glanced at the clock. “It’s only seven but I’m beat.”
Her dismissal wasn’t explicit but Griff got it. He stood and started for his coat. When he slipped into the coat and turned to her, attraction sideswiped her. Even bundled in a winter coat, his masculinity and aura of protector didn’t fail to impress her. Attraction filled her, even though she didn’t want it. The man still had secrets, and she admitted to herself it continued to bother her. Just because he’d been a marine and was a federal marshal didn’t mean he was squeaky clean.
She stood and met him halfway across the room. “Thank you for keeping me safe tonight.”
He snorted softly. “Huh. If I’d been doing my job, I wouldn’t have allowed you into that house in the first place.”
“Your job?” Half insulted, she placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not a child, Griff.”
Now he looked a little perturbed. “I know that. But you ran after me. Why?”
“I was worried.”
“You were trying to protect me.”
“I guess you could say that.”
Stalemate.
“Then we’re even, right?” he asked.
“If I fall down and scrape my knees, I don’t need you to kiss my boo-boo and tell me it’ll be all right.”
The ghost of a smile touched his mouth, and he slipped a hand into her hair and drew her toward him. “You sure? I think I might like kissing your boo-boos, as you call them.”
Heat flashed through her face, and a desire coiled in loins as she allowed him to draw her against his hard body.
She laughed softly. “You know what I mean.”
He leaned in and brushed his mouth over hers. She returned the embrace, unable to resist, her hands bunching his coat as she held on. His kiss was gentle and warm, yet she felt a hot, banked need in his touch. His arms slipped around her back, warming and caressing. Big and gentle, his hands made her forget what they’d experienced in the weird house. All Cassie could feel was his mouth on hers, his tongue stroking deep and caressing. A man’s touch had never consumed her this way before, never made her long for more, for his body deep inside hers.
And God, she did want that. She ached with it, and the throb between her legs made her shift and moan softly against his mouth. She stuffed her fingers into his silky hair, loving the sensation against her skin. She arched into his strength, glorying in the way his body supported and protected. She couldn’t stop her curiosity, and smoothed her hands over his stomach before circling his back with her arms. God, his stomach was like rock, his waist slim, his back muscular. He cupped her face in both hands and tasted her the way no man had ever done before.
He drew back, taking one step and then another away from her. Her arms felt empty, and her body aching with unfulfilled desires.
“I’m not trying to be controlling,” he said.
“What are you trying to do then?”
He cleared his throat. “I care about you, okay? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Her body still hot with need, she tried to ignore the feeling that if she reached out, if she made a move, he’d stay with her. Would she want that? How could she when she couldn’t trust him one hundred percent?
“Let’s sleep on this. Tomorrow we’ll find out what happened.” His voice stayed easy and low as made to l
eave her room. He opened the door and glanced back at her. “Goodnight.”
After he left and she locked the door, loneliness greeted her. She went to the bathroom to retrieve a glass. She poured the rest of the small whiskey into the glass and slipped. She doubted she’d sleep tonight.
* * *
He’d watched the couple leave the house and satisfaction warmed the ice inside him. Cold always ate away at him when he stepped into the home. Yet when they’d arrived, he’d mourned powerlessness. They would walk in the door, and he couldn’t stop them. At least he didn’t think he could. When they’d entered, though, he felt their caution. Her fear radiated toward him a moment before she thought she saw something. He stood still, expecting them to shout, to see him and ask who he was. He heard their conversation about needing a phone, their calls of hello. They’d looked right through him.
They can’t see you.
Terrified and elated all at once, he’d considered speaking. His voice had caught in his throat. He had no voice, and they obviously didn’t know he was there. He grinned as power flowed inside him and grew moment by moment. Oh, yes. He did have power. He realized he could harm whoever he wanted now. When he’d hunted before, the women he’d taken and used to his satisfaction had never given him enough fight. They’d always tried, of course. There was that one that whimpered and basically gave in, her heart stopping even before he’d finished with her. Her blank, staring eyes had mocked him. Damn her little bitch eyes, blank and cold, her soul gone. He couldn’t hurt her then, and he’d known it. She’d fled the torture that fueled his need, that made him long for one more woman and one more, until his need was incurable and insatiable. The woman who walked in with the tall man had dark hair and a slightly foreign look he couldn’t pinpoint. It intrigued him.
This…this new development gave him bigger delight. More payoffs. He loved it. The couple couldn’t see him, and he laughed. He’d froze, wondering if they’d heard him. The foreign-looking woman had stopped moving, and he guessed she heard something even if she didn’t know what. He waited, but the woman had followed the man and gave no other indication that she knew someone lurked in the house. He’d trailed them until the man’s weight cracked the floor, and the guy fell through. Distress hit the woman, and he experienced her fear. He savored it, longed for it and drank it. The nourishment was sweet, burning ecstasy more potent than orgasm. His happiness was sidelined by the other man’s emotions. A wave of anger had rushed through the guy who’d fallen down the hole. When the man had climbed from the hole and they explored the rest of the rooms, he found himself wishing they’d stay.
Holding Out For A Hero: SEALs, Soldiers, Spies, Cops, FBI Agents and Rangers Page 124
