Blue Moon

by C. D. Ledbetter

Elizavon narrowed her eyes and subjected Mary to an icy blue stare. "All right. You have one month, but no more. When do you want to go?"

  Mary traded the icy blue stare for one of her own. "One week from next Monday. Where can I get a key?"

  "You can pick it up from my attorney, Allan Charles."

  "I'll pick it up next Thursday. "

  "I expect weekly progress reports. If I'm not satisfied with them, you'll be thrown out by the sheriff."

  Mary glared at the old woman as a thought occurred to her. She patted the small day timer she kept tucked inside her coat pocket. "I've taped this conversation, so if you plan to renege on our agreement, I wouldn't advise it. Please have your attorney notarize a document that says I have permission to be in the house for one month. Be sure you specify the right dates. I'll pick it up the same time I get the key."

  For a moment, Mary thought she saw admiration in Elizavon's eyes, but decided she had to be wrong. Having made her point, she turned and walked out. She hid her excitement until she drove through the gates, and then sang all the way to the office. She'd done it! Her spirits tempered as she realized only one thing prevented her from fulfilling her plan. She had to find a way to convince Mac to give her a month's leave of absence--no easy feat.

  Chapter 25

  Mac leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. A half-smoked cigar dangled from his lips and dropped ashes onto his white shirt. He looked down, brushed them off, then tucked his hand back under his arm. "Let me get this straight. You want a month's leave of absence so you can go back to that plantation in Louisiana and find out what happened to a ghost?"

  Mary leaned forward and propped her arms on the edge of his desk. "I know it sounds crazy, Mac, but I've got to find out what happened to Magdalene. If I don't, my nightmares may never go away. You have no idea what it's like, waking up in the middle of the night, frightened out of your wits. I've already been to a therapist, and he told me the only way they're going to disappear is if I go back and figure this thing out." She held out her hands. "I know this isn't a good time to be off, but I don't have any other choice. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important."

  He pulled the cigar out of his mouth and tapped it on the ashtray. After a few moments of silence, he picked it up and threw it in the trash. "I'll let you go on one condition. James is in the hospital with appendicitis. I want you to take over the McGregory job he was supposed to start. It needs to be done fast and accurately, and I don't have anybody else to send. Once it's finished, you can go."

  She opened her mouth, but closed it quickly. She knew better than to argue when Mac was in one of his 'moods.' "Fair enough. Do you have the material on the house?"

  He reached into his drawer and withdrew a large envelope. She saw the thickness and sighed. "I can leave tomorrow or the day after."

  "Be sure to get an expense advance on your way out. You may be stuck there a couple of days." He stared at her for a few moments, then cleared his throat as if he was about to say something.

  Mary stood in the doorway, waiting. "Yes?"

  He shook his head. "Nothing. Be careful. The house is out in the middle of nowhere, and they recently had blizzard conditions."

  She grimaced. "Thanks, Mac. The next time I ask for a leave of absence, I'll make sure you don't have any jobs in the Arctic to send me on."

  He lifted his lips into a twisted smile. "You're welcome. You and James are the two best curators I have. He's sick, so that leaves you. I need somebody I can depend on." He spun his chair around and rummaged in a file cabinet. She'd been dismissed.

  She walked down the hall and noticed that many of the offices in the building were empty. No wonder Mac had asked her to take James' place. Things must really be busy if everyone was out of town.

  She took the material home and read it after she'd packed her clothes. She phoned DeeDee a fourth time, but the answering machine still picked up, so she left a message telling her their plan had worked, and that she'd be out of town for a few days.

  The next morning she boarded the plane for Montana. As it landed, she saw huge snowdrifts piled along the sides of the runway. Gusts of freezing wind flung frozen drops of ice against her face as she walked to the terminal. She shivered and hugged her coat tighter against her. Mac was right. This place was a frozen wasteland. There was nothing but snow and ice in every direction.

  At least the people were friendly. She chatted with the rental car agent while she waited for her luggage. He was easy to talk to, and by the time her suitcases appeared, she knew the complete history of the town. He'd even drawn her a map to the hotel.

  It had stopped snowing, but driving conditions were still treacherous on the narrow, two-lane road. For once she was glad she had the road to herself. It took nearly an hour to travel the short distance to town. She hit several patches of ice and skidded across both lanes twice, and her arms and shoulders ached from gripping the steering wheel. Driving in Boston was never this bad. These people had to be nuts to live here.

  A coffee shop sign caught her eye, and she pulled in for a quick meal and a hot cup of coffee. A delicious aroma filled her nostrils as she took off her coat and scarf, and her mood lifted as she took in the rose-covered wallpaper and matching chairs and tables. It was crowded, so she sat on a bench near the door.

  An older woman escorted her to a table. Her bright brown eyes gleamed at Mary from behind silver spectacles. "You new in town?" she asked as she tucked a strand of gray hair behind her ears.

  "I'm only here for a few days," Mary answered. She looked at the menu. "What's today's special?"

  The woman wiped her hands on her bright blue apron, then withdrew her order pad. "Beef stew and vegetables." She lowered her voice. "Although I wouldn't eat it if I were you. It's awful."

  Mary hid her grin behind the menu. "In that case I'll have a burger and fries, please. And a cup of coffee." As she waited for her meal, a strange feeling crept over her, similar to the one she'd had in JFK airport. Only one person affected her that way--Jack. Excitement pulsed through her veins as she glanced around the room. It was him! Her lips curved into a smile as she blinked to make sure she wasn't seeing things. Nope, he was still there.

  He looked up, their eyes met, and his fork stopped half way to his mouth. The waitress standing next to him touched his arm, and he turned.

  Mary's mind raced through several explanations. Jack was here! How could he be--unless... She suddenly realized what Mac failed to tell her yesterday. This was a two-company job! He must have guessed she'd refuse to go, and decided not to tell her. No wonder he'd dismissed her so abruptly.

  Jack pulled out a chair and sat across from her. "Hello, Mary."

  She glanced up and their eyes met for a second time. Her heart thudded and she fumbled for words. Desire flooded her veins as she drank in every detail of his appearance. She resisted the temptation to brush the lock of unruly hair from his forehead.

  "Aren't you even going to speak to me?" he grinned.

  "Of course I am. I was trying to think of something intelligent to say. How are you?"

  His lips twitched. "I think we've already established we're both fine. Are you here for the appraisal on the McGregory house?"

  Her heart soared with joy. God, he looked good. She was suddenly glad she'd taken Mac's offer. "James was supposed to come, but he had appendicitis, so that left me."

  He covered her hand with his. "I'm glad you're here. It'll give us a chance to talk."

  The waitress arrived with her meal, and he asked if she could bring his plate over. She glanced at the hand covering Mary's, stared pointedly at his wedding ring, then smirked and nodded.

  Mary snatched her hand from under his. "Great. Now she's going to think we're having an affair."

  He grinned. "Well, we are."

  She pouted. "This isn't funny. That woman thinks I'm your mistress."

  He burst out laughing. "You make it sound like some kind of melodrama. Having lunch isn't a cardinal sin. Besides, what are you
so mad about?"

  Why was she so angry? She thought about his question and couldn't find an answer. Was her anger a cover for her true feelings? She took a deep breath, and faced the fact that she was thrilled to see him. She rested her arms on the table and grinned across at him.

  "That's better. Finish your lunch and we'll go get you checked in."

  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I think I can handle that. I am over eighteen."

  He laughed. "Point taken. Sorry." He waited for her to eat her hamburger. "Have you learned anything new about Jean-Pierre and Magdalene?"

  She had a lot to tell him, but this wasn't the place. She covered her plate with her napkin and he signaled the waitress. The woman lifted one eyebrow, but said nothing as they paid their separate bills and asked for receipts. Mary ignored the woman's smirk as they left.

  As soon as they were outside, Jack swept her into his arms and covered her lips with his. "God, I've missed you," he whispered.

  Mary hugged him closer. "I've missed you, too, Jack. I've thought about you a thousand times over the past few weeks." The sound of horns and teenagers hooting brought them back to reality. Laughing, she disengaged herself and linked her arm through his as he escorted her to the car. Joy filled her heart as she gave him one last kiss before unlocking her door. Grinning, he pointed the way to the hotel and followed her down the ice-covered streets.

  The moment they walked in, the desk clerk informed Jack he'd been trying to locate him for an urgent phone call. He handed Jack a piece of paper and escorted him to a side office. Mary wondered if Audrey was ill again, and hated herself for hoping he wouldn't have to leave. He didn't reappear, so she checked in and made her way upstairs. Inside her room, she berated herself for her behavior. What was it about Jack that caused her to act like a sex-starved teenager? So much for remaining calm and collected. She realized that every time she saw him, desire overwhelmed all other emotions, but why? Was it because she knew she shouldn't feel that way? Experience told her the minute someone was told they couldn't have something, they usually ended up wanting it. Was that her problem?

  It was obvious he was glad to see her. As she unpacked, she wondered where their relationship would lead. Would they spend the night together? God, she hoped so. She yearned for his touch and the feel of his lips against hers. Then she remembered Audrey. She had to find a way to keep her emotions out of this, do her job and leave. Even though she believed Jack when he told her Audrey was his friend and not his lover, the woman was still his wife. Which placed her in the role of the 'other woman.'

  She admitted to herself that was what rankled. Her strict Catholic upbringing reared its head, and the phrase "Do Unto Others" came to mind. She had nothing to feel guilty about. Her feelings for Jack were real. Seeing him today convinced her of that. She hadn't set out to take him away from Audrey.

  The shrill ring of the phone startled her, and she picked up the receiver.

  "Are you about ready to leave?" Jack asked.

  Her pulse raced and she moistened dry lips. "I'll be down in a minute."

  "Good. I thought you might want to go out to the house. I picked up the key this morning. We'll stop by Mr. Wayans, the realtor, and let him know you've arrived. I'll meet you downstairs in about ten or fifteen minutes. I just have a couple of loose ends to tie up," he said.

  "Okay." She replaced the receiver, and realized he'd subtly changed the tone of their relationship back to a professional basis. Relief washed over her. As long as they kept it that way, they wouldn't have any problems. As the elevator doors closed behind her, she wondered how long it would last.

  As Jack dialed his home number, he wondered what Mary would say if she knew Audrey was on her way here. Would she refuse to meet her? He gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw. Surely she couldn't refuse a dying woman's last wish. She wasn't that kind of person.

  "Hello?" Audrey whispered into the phone.

  "It's Jack. She's here." He heard the sharp intake of breath on the other end.

  "Thank God. Since you hadn't called, I was beginning to think she wasn't coming."

  He swallowed the lump in his throat at the thought of Audrey rushing to the airport. "She got in later than I expected." He hesitated, then asked, "Audrey, are you sure you're up to this trip?"

  "I've never been more determined to do anything in my life, Jack. I want to meet Mary, to find out about her experiences at the plantation. The nurse has already packed my bags, and the taxi's on its way. I took the chance of calling one, just in case she showed up. Just meet me at the airport later tonight. I'll be there."

  "Okay, see you later, chickee."

  "Later."

  As he hung up the phone, he wondered how he was going to break the news to Mary that Audrey was on her way. Thank God he'd had the foresight yesterday to ask Frank to phone Markis Bros. and ask who the other curator for this job would be. Otherwise, he'd never have been able to get everything ready in time for Audrey to fly out here. A sigh escaped his lips as he thought of the angry barrage Mary was sure to put up, especially since she was, in fact, a captive audience. Oh well, Audrey was worth it. Mary would just have to deal with the situation as best she could.

  Chapter 26

  Jack's attitude remained impersonal as he trudged through the snow to his car. Although relieved, Mary felt slightly miffed at his aloofness. How could he turn his emotions on and off like a tap? One minute a lover, the next, an impersonal stranger. The man was going to drive her to drink! She opened her mouth to speak, but remained silent as they arrived at the realty office.

  Mr. Wayans, the realtor, greeted her with an arm–wrenching handshake as Jack made the introductions. He reminded Mary of a television cowboy, with long legs encased in tight jeans, and a black Stetson pulled low across his forehead. Her lips curved into a smile as she wondered if the black hat meant he was a bad guy instead of a good one.

  A thick black mustache covered his lips, and the dimples in his cheeks rippled in and out when he smiled. His deep, booming voice carried across the room as he gave them directions to the house, and warned them about the ice on the roads.

  The estate was out in the country, and neither spoke as the car skidded across several icy spots. Both breathed a sigh of relief when Jack pulled into the driveway. To her surprise, the house wasn't very big, having been built in an L-shaped formation. The outside was covered in thick wood planks, and the windows were framed with shutters made of the same wood, decorated with a cattle brand. Three chimneys stuck out from the roof.

  They had to dig their way through several snowdrifts to find the front door, which was locked with a big padlock. Jack placed his key in the lock, but it wouldn't budge. He looked across at Mary.

  "Mr. Wayans told me the lock might be frozen. The guy who owned this house was a hermit, and it took a while to find the heirs." He looked up at her and grinned. "There's some kind of feud between the two great–nephews. Evidently this property is worth a fortune because the state wants to put a highway right through the middle of it. Evidently it's the best location to connect two major interstates. That's why they hired two firms. Nobody's been inside since the old man died."

  He patted Mary's shoulder, took a can out of his pocket, and sprayed the contents onto the lock. "The electricity was supposed to be turned back on yesterday, so maybe it won't be so cold inside." A few minutes later he tried again, and the lock sprung open.

  He opened the door with a sigh of relief and ran his hand along the wall for a light switch. Light filled the room and he let out a whistle of surprise. Mary stepped inside but immediately wished she hadn't.

  The interior of the house was unfinished, with globs of cement filled in spaces between the exterior boards. A single electric bulb hung above them. Newspapers littered the floor, and boxes filled with trash lined one end of the room. A homemade coffee table sat in front of the couch, which was propped up with books. At one end, a television tray held up a lamp, which was cracked in several places. Two ragge
d chairs sat across from the couch, their covers torn and stained. A black velvet painting of several dogs playing poker hung in a place of honor above the fireplace, and the foul odor of rotted garbage filled the stale air.

  Mary held one gloved hand to her nose. "Are you sure we have the right place?"

  "This has to be it. Otherwise, the key wouldn't have worked."

  She stared at the painting. "Maybe he was going for a rustic look." Her eyes grew wide as she wandered down the hall, taking in details. Evidently the old man had lived in one room at a time, moving when it grew too cluttered or smelled too bad. Even though everything was frozen, the air still retained an odor of rotted garbage and human feces. By the time they got to the kitchen, she wanted to throw up.

  Filthy pots and pans littered the counter, and the remains of somebody's last meal lay frozen on the table. She took one look at the mess and walked back to the living room. "We're going to have to hire somebody to clean up before we can do an inventory. I don't know about you, but I'm not going to work around this kind of filth. He didn't even use an outhouse. What kind of man was he?"

  Jack held his nostrils shut with his fingers. "I have no idea. Let's go. We'll stop by the realtor's office and get him to hire a crew to clean this mess. We'll have to be here to make sure nothing valuable leaves."

  Mr. Wayans acted surprised when they told him about the condition of the house. He explained that the old man had checked himself into the local hospital and died three days later. The heirs hadn't bothered to come down, and their attorneys told the court to give him the key, and find two inventory companies.

  They made arrangements to meet the next morning, and he assured them a truck would be available to haul trash. He grinned when Mary told him what awaited the cleaning crew in the kitchen and bedrooms.

  When they got back to the hotel, Jack placed a hand on Mary's arm. "How about a drink? We have a lot of catching up to do, and it's too early to eat."