Pull of the Moon

by Sylvie Kurtz

  “I’ll find out.”

  “And while you’re at it, I’ll need a financial on Simon Higgins. He’s the executive producer at WMOD-TV in Orlando.” Nick took a deep breath. “And find me Gordon Archer’s current whereabouts.”

  What Nick needed was facts. Basic, logical, hard facts. With those he could fight them all—Archer, Higgins and Valerie. Especially Valerie.

  She’d come back in the morning. And he’d have to be ready for her.

  AT THE OTHER END of the phone, the woman burst into tears. “Valerie’s gone.” Was there no end to the river she could cry? “I tried everything, but she still went.”

  He slapped a stack of reports into his briefcase. “I’ll take care of it.”

  A nervous tick of nails clicked against the phone. “You won’t hurt her, will you?”

  He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and shook his head. “What do you take me for?”

  After all he’d done for her, the least she could do is show him a little respect and gratitude. He wasn’t an idiot. Why would he want to bring attention to a mistake when he was so close to payback?

  “I’m sorry.” She sniffed. “I didn’t mean…”

  “Of course you didn’t.” He softened his voice. “Trust me. I’ll take care of everything.”

  She swallowed a large bubble of air.

  “Everything’s fine,” he insisted.

  “But what if—”

  “She’s just doing her job.”

  “But…” She sighed. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.” He hung up, snatched the brochure from the desk and sneered at the mansion used as a logo. They’d airbrushed out the weeds and the neglect, but they couldn’t quite hide the self-important haughtiness. He pitched the brochure into his briefcase, snapped it shut and locked it.

  Valerie was at Moongate.

  He reached for the custom-tailored suit jacket on his bed. She’d been warned. If she couldn’t take a hint, if she got in his way, she’d have to suffer the consequences.

  Then a zing of new possibility burst in his chest. He smiled as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. On the other hand, if he couldn’t keep her away, maybe he could use her to his advantage.

  He’d get his chance. He’d always known it would come.

  Briefcase in hand, he hummed as he left the room. This time, he’d get it right. This time, no one would mistake him for shoe scum—least of all the high-and-mighty Rita Meadows.

  Chapter Four

  When Valerie arrived at Moongate the next morning, she’d expected to give Rita Meadows a quick greeting, then get down to the archives while Mike taped his interior shots. But plans had a way of twisting themselves around, especially when time was at a premium. Really, if a shoot ever ran smoothly, she’d think the end of the world had arrived.

  She stifled a sigh. One out of two was better than none. At least Mike was on his way up to the tower room escorted by the burly Lionel.

  A whippet-thin and rumpled man sat with Rita in the library. The only plus side Valerie could see to the delay was that Nick seemed even less happy to see the new arrival than he’d been at seeing her.

  Nick wore a charcoal suit today, and with his crisp white shirt and power-red tie, he presented the perfect picture of the successful businessman. His protective stance at Rita’s side left no doubt that, should anyone try to harm her, they would suffer his wrath.

  Then there were those eyes, guarded and restrained. But an undeniable frisson of something passed between Valerie and him when their gazes connected, and she couldn’t help the hint of a smile that twitched her lips or the bubbly desire to play that infiltrated her limbs.

  Do not even go there, Valerie. Nick wasn’t part of the job and was way too complex for her to deal with in three days.

  “Valerie! I’m so glad you’re finally here.” Rita’s smile beamed. A strong red painted her cheeks, as if she’d gone too heavy with the blush. Her eyes had a feverish gleam to them that made Valerie think Rita should still be in bed. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” She patted her hand on the sofa next to her, inviting Valerie to sit.

  Valerie’s gaze jumped to Nick, who simply scowled at her with his cool, dark eyes. She perched a polite distance from her hostess—as far away from Nick as she could, grateful the sofa’s cream fleur-de-lis back offered a barrier between them—and clipped on a smile. She’d wasted way too much of her night thinking about Nicolas Galloway to allow him to get to her today.

  “This is Dr. Evan Gardner,” Rita said. “He’s come to work a little project for me.”

  Up close, Evan Gardner was shades of tan from his straight dirty-blond hair to his camel tweed jacket and scuffed boots. His forty-something face had a houndish sag to it that seemed oddly familiar.

  Valerie nodded a greeting, remembering where she’d met the man before. “Nice to meet you again, Dr. Gardner.”

  The man might look like a fashion disaster, but he knew his stuff. She twirled her cup of take-out coffee in her hands. How long would she have to sit here before she could excuse herself to search the archives?

  Nick stiffened. “You’ve met?”

  Another layer of wariness clanked into place in Nick’s eyes. Going through life suspecting everyone of having ulterior motives was a tough way to exist. Did he ever untie his starched collar? Did he ever have fun?

  “At a psychic fair last year in Orlando.” Valerie still got a shiver thinking about the spread of dark and gloomy tarot cards she received as part of the segment.

  “Oh, that’s right.” Evan slapped a big hand on the thigh of his tan trousers and offered her a shaggy smile. “You interviewed me about paranormal investigation techniques.”

  “I never knew there were so many electronic gadgets!” Valerie turned to Rita. “Do you have a ghost in the house?”

  “That’s what I mean to find out.” Rita poured tea and offered Valerie a cup. Although she’d rather have her coffee, and although she’d rather just get on with the job, she accepted, aware of Nick’s gaze burning a disapproving hole right through her. “I met Evan in Chicago—”

  “Chicago?” Nick frowned. “When were you in Chicago? Why didn’t I know about this?”

  A flush crept up Rita’s neck. “I’ve been looking for someone reputable, someone you would have to listen to. So when I heard that Evan was going to be presenting a seminar at a paranormal convention in Chicago, I had to go.”

  “At a what?”

  Rita’s spoon stilled against the side of her cup. “You heard me, Nicolas. Why do you think I didn’t tell you?”

  “You’re making me sound like the bad guy here.”

  Rita raised an eyebrow as if to say, “If the shoe fits,” and sipped. “Evan has science behind him.”

  Nick planted both hands on the back of the sofa and, though his voice was controlled, Valerie sensed an inner storm blustering in him. “Hiding behind science doesn’t mean he’s not a quack.”

  Evan’s gaze ping-ponged between Nick and Rita. “Uh, should I leave?”

  “No,” Rita insisted. “Evan is a professional ghost hunter with scientific credentials, Nicolas. He majored in history and archeology, which taught him methods of corroboration and gave him the same bloodhound approach in the search for facts that you have for investments.”

  Nick sneered. “Ghosts aren’t quite as black-and-white as balance sheets.”

  “Which is exactly why we need someone of Evan’s impeccable background.”

  Boy, if Valerie had ever dared to speak to her mother in that tone, she’d have gotten a slap for her insolence. That Nick felt free enough to speak truthfully without fearing dismissal or a dressing-down said something about the depth of their relationship. Was that it? Was he secure in his position at Moongate because Rita treated him like a son? Would he lose all that if Valentina were to come back and claim her rightful place? Something to ponder.

  “I’ve written in-depth articles for several scientific magazines.” Evan bent dow
n to the well-worn leather messenger bag at his feet and drew out a handful of papers. “I’ve brought reprints. I want to record information faith fully for its scientific value.” He grinned sheepishly and half rose out of the wing chair to hand Nick the articles. “I’m also fascinated by the stories I hear from the ghosts through mediums. Knowing what happened to them helps me understand the energy they left behind.”

  “Oh, great,” Nick mumbled, discarding Evan’s articles on a nearby side table. “Just what we need, a medium to add to this zoo.”

  Evan put a hand up. “No, no. I only bring in a medium if circumstances point to a haunting.”

  Nick chuffed. “Like that’s not going to happen with Rita Meadows involved.”

  Evan’s cheeks quivered. “I don’t let a name, or lack of one, influence my findings.”

  Nick skewered him with his death-laser gaze, and, when Evan squirmed, Valerie was glad that, for once, she wasn’t the recipient. “How about money? Do you let that influence the extent of your research?”

  “That’s quite enough, Nicolas.”

  “As a matter of fact, no.” Evan recoiled as if insulted. “I don’t charge anything to investigate a possible occurrence. My expenses are all covered by a grant.”

  Nick didn’t look convinced. “What’s the catch?”

  “The catch is that I use my findings in my scientific papers.”

  A muscle jumped in Nick’s jaw as if he were literally biting back his words.

  Rita withdrew a handkerchief from the pocket of her gray wool skirt and dabbed at the pearls of sweat strung along her forehead.

  “Are you all right?” Valerie poured Rita a glass of ice water from the pitcher on the silver tray.

  “I’m fine, dear.” Rita accepted the glass from Valerie, but didn’t sip. “Evan’s agreed to look at the tower room and run some tests.”

  “The tower room?” Valerie asked. Rita didn’t look well at all. “Valentina’s room?”

  “There have been sounds, like a baby crying coming from the tower room, and I’d like to find out if there’s a physical cause for the phenomenon.” She looked pointedly at Nick.

  No wonder she hadn’t told Nick of her plans. Having a television crew interviewing Rita was bad enough, but a paranormal researcher had to grate against everything Nick stood for.

  Having a ghost haunt the tower room would certainly put an interesting spin on the story, though. Valerie would have to corner Evan when Nick wasn’t around and ask if she could tape some of his experiments for her segment.

  “And if there is a poor lost soul wandering the tower room…” Rita’s glass shook in her hands, clinking the ice cubes like skeleton teeth. With an awkward two-handed movement, she slid the glass on the coffee table. “Then it would be nice for him to find his way home.”

  His, she’d said, not her. Whoever Rita thought was haunting the tower room, she was certain it wasn’t her daughter. Did Moongate hold another secret tight in its walls? How this experiment played out would certainly prove interesting.

  “I suppose that’s where the medium comes in,” Nick grumbled.

  “Evan’s work is a plausible avenue for truth,” Rita insisted. She raised her handkerchief to her mouth and coughed twice.

  At Rita’s distress, Nick crouched at her side and his whole face softened. The transformation took Valerie’s breath away.

  Nick, Nick, Nick, her heart sang as if he were a long-lost friend, and she had to put a hand to her chest to stop the wild gallop.

  A warm smile graced Rita’s lips. Her hand reached up to touch Nick’s. “I know you’re trying to protect me, but sometimes, you try too hard.”

  “You certainly don’t make my job easy.” Worry lines crimped Nick’s forehead, and he studied the rose pattern on the carpet for a long time before looking up at Rita. “What if Gardner and his scientific methods find that the ghost is Valentina, won’t that prove that Valentina is dead?”

  The gentleness in his voice made Valerie want to reach for him. The longing was so strong she nearly wept out loud.

  What was it about this house that turned her from a professional to an emotional wreck? What made her good at her job was her ability to remain a neutral observer. These dramatic shifts of emotions weren’t like her at all.

  “This is important to me, Nicolas.” Rita’s voice caught in her throat. “It’s going to generate leads to find Valentina.”

  Nick raked a hand through his hair and glanced at Evan, hard mask back in place. “What exactly are your plans, Dr. Gardner?”

  “I’ll need to set up some equipment in the tower room where Rita has heard the cries. I’ve brought it all with me. It’s out in my truck.” Evan prattled on, completely unaware of Nick’s scorn. “The people most likely to see a ghost are those who have recently suffered the loss of a loved one, are considered insane, are closer to nature and farther from cities or technology, or inhabit the sites of wrongful deaths.”

  Rita’s cough came back with a vengeance. She clamped both hands over her chest as if to keep her lungs in. The choking gasps of her coughs made her breaths wheeze. Nick, still crouched beside her, tried to soothe her by rubbing her back.

  “I’m…all right,” Rita said, but as she attempted to stand, her legs gave out, and she passed out in Nick’s arms.

  Valerie jumped up to help, but Nick had the situation in hand. He eased Rita back to the sofa. “Rita?”

  A gurgling sound came from Rita’s lungs and her eyes fluttered open. Her feverish gaze locked with Valerie’s. Her trembling hand reached desperately forward. “Valentina…”

  Not knowing what else to do, Valerie dipped a damask napkin in the pitcher of water, wrung it and dabbed it on Rita’s sweaty forehead. “I’m Valerie Zea, Ms. Meadows. From your uncle’s station.”

  “Valentina.” Rita smiled, her hot and damp hand wrapping around Valerie’s wrist. Her voice was a raspy, breakable thing that hitched along Valerie’s heart. “I always knew you’d come home.”

  THAT DID IT. Nick slipped his arms around Rita and lifted her off the sofa. Cripes, she was boiling hot and shivering. He was taking her out of here. Now. The stress of the upcoming anniversary, all of her secret plans, all these energy vampires wanting to suck her dry had driven her past the point of exhaustion. He’d been accommodating because she was Rita, but enough was enough. “Out. All of you.”

  “The equipment?” that quack Gardner asked.

  “Later.”

  “I—” Valerie sputtered, standing one fist pressed to her stomach. The healthy sun-kissed glow of her skin paled three shades. Questions and apologies rounded her eyes. And God help him, he almost believed the act.

  “It’s the fever,” Nick said. Though why he’d want to ease her guilty conscience, he didn’t know. “Her calling you Valentina doesn’t mean anything.”

  Valerie nodded. “This sounds like more than a cold.”

  Pneumonia, if he was right. She’d probably caught it on her secret trip to Chicago. How could she have sneaked away like that without telling him?

  “I knew.” Rita’s voice was a hollow rasp. Her breath puffed dragon-hot against his shoulder. “I knew you’d come home.”

  He should’ve put his foot down when he’d seen how pale Rita had looked that morning, and insisted she see a doctor instead of entertaining guests of dubious intentions.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Valerie placed the fingers of one hand on his elbow. The touch jolted through his system as it had yesterday. Static electricity. This old house was full of it. He’d have to ask Lionel to crank up the humidifier.

  The genuine concern in Valerie’s eyes added another kick to his gut, and he deliberately stepped away. “I think it would be best if you both left.”

  Valerie nodded, took in a shuddering breath and exhaled slowly. “I’ll come back later.”

  “No!” Rita’s weak cry gurgled. A series of jagged coughs convulsed her frail body. Nick tried to absorb the recoil of her spasms into his own chest. “Valen
tina…has to stay.”

  “Let’s see what the doctor says first.”

  Rita banged a feeble fist against Nick’s chest. “Nicolas…”

  “Shh, Rita.” She needed a doctor. She needed medicine. She needed them both right now. Without waiting to see if Valerie or Gardner followed his order to leave, he carried Rita to her bed and propped pillows behind her back to ease the stress on her lungs.

  His mother hurried into the room. “How is she?”

  “She’s spiking a fever. And she passed out in the library.” Seeing Rita so weak and frail burned an ache in his chest. She’d always been so strong. The first time he’d seen a picture of the Statue of Liberty, Nick had thought it was Rita. “That’s me, all right,” she’d said, laughing. “Hostess extraordinaire.”

  “Call Dr. Marzan.”

  This was Valerie’s fault. Hers and that Gardner quack. The stink of their conspiracy made him want to spit nails. They were ganging up, hitting all of Rita’s weak spots. Her, with her Valentina looks. Him, with his false promise of an answer about the ghost. Nick would be the one who’d have to pick up all the broken pieces.

  He didn’t want to hurt Rita, but he couldn’t let them return. She’d hate him for a while, but once she was well again, once November arrived, she’d see it was for the best. That Valentina’s anniversary was better left uncommemorated. Nothing good would come from reliving the past. He should know. He’d wasted too much of his life looking for something that didn’t want to be found.

  “What did the doctor say?” Nick asked when his mother returned.

  “He’ll be here in ten minutes.” Holly wrapped a cool cloth over Rita’s forehead, and Rita moaned.

  Nick nodded. “Watch her. I’ll make sure our guests have left and show Dr. Marzan up.”

  He’d have to call the middle school, too. Let them know he wouldn’t be able to make it today. He hated to disappoint the kids. The math tutoring sessions were his treasured hours of sunshine every week, and he looked forward to them as much as the kids did.

  Rita caught the material of Nick’s jacket as he tried to leave. “You have to…promise me, Nicolas.”