by Lynn Patrick
The wind was picking up, tearing at her hair, and fog was rolling over the water’s surface. No sign of the sailboat or fishermen. Getting up, she headed for the shop. She should leave, but Kristen would no doubt be looking for her. Besides, she needed to talk to Priscilla, to apologize for leaving with Rick. She hadn’t meant for this to happen. The turn in the evening had been a complete surprise to her.
Along with the surprise that mysterious activities might be happening at the Flanagan estate.
That put a different spin on her view of Rick, and she realized she could easily have something romantic going on with him. Her emotions buffeted her as strongly as the wind. Whether or not she’d planned on it, whether or not she wanted it, no matter the reasons she shouldn’t get involved with Rick, her attraction to him was real and growing by leaps and bounds.
What now? she wondered as she re-entered the cheese shop.
Kristen had arrived and was the center of a small group, including Gloria and Shara and her husband.
Thinking she would talk to Priscilla first, Heather spotted her chatting with a cute dark-haired guy and giving him her card. Hmm. He smiled at Priscilla and backed away, then headed for the door.
Heather took the opportunity to get to Priscilla before another customer did. “Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Yeah, sure. C’mon.” Priscilla indicated Heather should follow her around the back of the counter. “I need to replenish the trays.”
Priscilla didn’t seem annoyed with the way things turned out. “I’m glad your opening is so successful,” Heather said.
“You and me both.” Priscilla pulled a couple chunks of cheese from the refrigerator. “Everyone told me I was crazy to start a small business in this economic climate, so such a great turnout gives me hope.”
Heather took one of the pieces from her. “And, um, I’m sorry if I led you on about Rick.”
Priscilla did a double take. “Sorry that a guy who looks like that is interested in you?”
“Seriously, I didn’t know he was.”
“Well, now you do.”
“He sort of thought I asked him on a date,” Heather admitted.
Priscilla laughed. “Wow, you got your wires crossed. No problem, though. Things worked out, anyway. That guy I was just talking to? Let’s hope he calls.”
Heather was relieved that Priscilla had such a good sense of humor about the situation. Now she just had to figure out what she was going to do about Rick.
CHAPTER NINE
AS WAS THE case most evenings before bedtime, Cora was curled up in the library, a good book in her hands. The only problem was her lack of concentration. She was no longer reading. Had she heard something out of place on the grounds, or was her imagination playing tricks on her? Maybe it was just the wind that had picked up and whistled along the lake.
The estate had been quiet for the past few hours. Kelly had left after dinner to meet her daughter Natalie in Milwaukee for the weekend. Cora wondered if it would be a fun weekend for the cook, or if her daughter simply needed money again. Gina had complained of a headache, had taken some aspirin and had retired early. And Mr. Guildfren—David—had not yet returned from his play at the Center for the Arts.
She was virtually alone.
So why did she imagine she heard a noise coming from the direction of the lake?
The book slipped from her fingers to the floor. Pulse fluttering, Cora rose from the chair and went to the windows, which rattled when a gust of wind hit them. As if she could see anything in the dark.
There it was again, another noise that had nothing to do with the now howling wind. Or so she thought.
A slammed door?
The sound came not from the mansion, but from somewhere near the water to the south.
She hurried to the desk set in an alcove and turned on the computer there. Rick wasn’t on the grounds tonight, but he had given her the URL and password for a private internet site that would show her feeds from any of the cameras on the grounds. She brought up the site and scanned the series of small frames on the monitor to match each camera. All were black but one—the boathouse.
Someone was in the boathouse!
Someone or something.
She clicked on the boathouse frame so the picture opened to fill the monitor’s large screen.
Movement held her frozen for a second. Not a figure. Not a person. Floaty, that’s what it was. Weird looking.
Floaty and out of focus, like something trying to materialize!
Heart pounding, hands shaking, Cora turned off the computer, went back to the windows and stared out into the dark night for some time. Fog was rolling in, and a light rain began to fall. Several minutes passed. Nothing to see. Nothing at all. She didn’t want to face it, but she’d suspected it for a while.
Flanagan Manor really was haunted...
Soft footsteps along the hallway made her knees buckle. She stopped herself from falling by clinging to the window ledge. Turning, she set her back against the frame, felt her heart jump up into her throat and waited to see whatever was about to confront her.
David Guildfren entered the room, his lined face softening when he saw her. “Ah, there you are, Cora.” He stopped short and frowned. “My dear, you look so pale. Is something wrong?”
She sagged with relief. “Oh, thank heavens it’s you!”
“Well, of course it’s me. Who else did you expect?”
“No one.” She shook her head. “No one at all.”
“Come. Sit. Let me get you something to drink.”
Cora sat gingerly in one of the wingback chairs, but protested, “No, nothing, but thank you.”
Touched by David’s concern for her, Cora wondered if he would ever express more than friendship. He’d been coming to the mansion for several years now, and he had always sought her company. Now that she was no longer alone, she felt her breathing slow.
Noticing he seemed distracted, she asked, “Your play—did you enjoy it?”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
But he didn’t look like he had.
“Though it might have been better if...”
“If what?” Cora asked. “I think I should be asking you if there is something wrong.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” He sighed and shook his head. “My mind is simply on my business. These economic times are proving to be more difficult than I ever expected.”
“When you were here for the holidays in December, I thought you said you were thinking of selling.”
“I was until I came to grips with reality. An antique store is not as viable a business as it used to be. I need to hang in a while longer so I can fund my retirement properly.” He gave her a sad smile. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have enough money for my little sojourns to this lovely estate.”
“Oh, that would be a crime.”
“Indeed.” He shook his head. “My dear Cora, I fear I’m off to bed early tonight. Perhaps we can play cards tomorrow night?”
“Of course.”
He nodded. “Until then.” And left the room.
Cora sighed. She and David had spent many an evening playing cards. He always made her feel like the center of his attention by encouraging her to talk about her work and the history of the estate. She suspected he was as attracted to her as she was to him, and she wondered if he would ever attempt to take their relationship a step forward.
Thinking about the fright she’d had a short while ago, Cora decided she would rather dream on that possibility than on what she’d seen on the computer.
* * *
DESPITE THE FOG and rain, Rick arrived at the estate in record time. He only hoped it was fast enough to catch the evasive interloper.
Had the man found an entrance to the tunnels in the boa
thouse? He’d been messing with the canvas covering one of the boats.
The question was why?
Rick wondered if the man had found whatever he was looking for, and if so, whether he intended to remove his booty in one of the boats via the lake.
Jumping out of his truck in the parking lot, Rick ran past the mansion and across the lawn. He’d nearly reached the boathouse when he heard a motor come to life. He sped up but barely got in the door as one of the boats moved out of the building and onto the lake, the fog masking the man’s identity.
“Hey!” he yelled, though he knew his shout was no use.
Swallowing his frustration, he started the mechanism to lower a second boat into the water while he removed the canvas covering. He jumped in and undid the lines as he started the motor. Less than two minutes behind the intruder, he took the boat out of the building and into the fog.
He stopped to listen, the fog moving about him like a thick veil. Another motor was rumbling to the south so he headed straight for it, but between the fog deadening the sound and the noise of his own engine, he couldn’t keep a bead on the other boat.
Still, he refused to give up so easily. He zigzagged through the area for as long as he could hear the other motor. When he shut his down to listen, and all he detected was the sound of waves hitting the rocks, he realized it was no use. The man had gotten away.
Frustrated, he headed back for the boathouse, where he spent too much time trying to get in without crashing his boat against the wall. Wet and discouraged, he tied up the craft, lifted it back out of the water and went straight to the coach house.
If he had only been here when the alert came in, he would have caught the intruder. As it was, nearly twenty minutes had passed before the person made his getaway. What had he been doing?
Rick regretted not being able to stop him.
But he didn’t regret being with Heather. He liked her. More than liked her. He thought about her sweet face, about his lips brushing hers...about the aborted deeper kiss he’d like to have shared with her. Spending the evening with her had been the best time he’d had since becoming a civilian.
Entering his quarters, he stripped off his wet clothes. He needed a hot shower. But first he was going to check the recording on his laptop so he could get a better look at the guy.
Another disappointment.
He mostly saw canvas fluttering. And a man’s back. Then nothing. The recording ended. But another one followed when the man returned to the boathouse. More of the same, only this time, it looked like he was carrying something that he stowed in the boat. He’d undoubtedly had enough time to set up the boat before taking the tunnel into the conservatory and stealing something from the mansion. But why one of their boats? He must have walked onto the property and whatever he’d stolen had been too heavy to carry back out on foot.
Rick looked at the time codes on both recordings. Eighteen minutes apart. Yep. About the same time it had taken him to return to the estate from Sparrow Lake. It seemed the intruder had prepared the boat, then had gone to get whatever it was he’d come for.
Watching the second recording again, he hoped to see something that would identify the man, who was dressed in dark clothing. His hair, spiked weirdly as if he’d slept on one side, wasn’t dark, but Rick couldn’t discern the color without more light. The man hadn’t turned on the overheads and the camera needed adjustment.
Something he would do first thing in the morning. That and look for another tunnel entrance in the boathouse itself. Plus, he needed to talk to Cora. She’d be the only one who would know if anything had been taken from the house. Too late now. She’d been having trouble sleeping and he didn’t want to wake her if she’d gone to bed early.
Too bad he couldn’t look forward to seeing Heather in the morning. He had the whole weekend to miss her company. He should have gotten her phone number before leaving. Chances were he could get it, but maybe he should keep things low key for a while. She was definitely a little skittish, and he didn’t want to scare her away.
Good thing he was a patient man.
* * *
RICK WAS ON Heather’s mind all the way home. Despite her objections that he wasn’t the man for her, she was definitely attracted to him. Having been alone for three long years, perhaps she was ready for something new in her life. Something other than work. Someone special.
But what if Rick decided to re-enlist? If she got involved with him and he went back to the army, that would break her heart. And she had the twins to think of. What about their little hearts? They’d lived half their lives without a daddy, and if they got attached to Rick and he left...
Dashing through the rain to her front door, she was grateful when it swung open without her having to stand there getting soaked while she unlocked it.
“Forget your umbrella?” Brian asked.
“I was in such a hurry to get out the door, I simply didn’t think about the weather.” She kissed her brother on the cheek as she passed him. “Did the girls behave for you?”
He closed the door. “For the most part.”
“What?”
“Nothing terrible. Go take a look.”
Heather went to the twins’ room and peeked in. Both girls were in one bed. And the dog was sleeping between them. Taylor had her arm around him, and his front paws were pushed up against Addison’s chest.
Heather smiled as she closed the door. “What am I going to do about that dog?” No one had responded to the flyers that Brian had tacked up everywhere in town for her.
“Nothing if you don’t want to.”
“What does that mean?” she asked as she made her way into the living room, where a fairly large cage sat in the middle of the floor. “And what is that?”
“A kennel for Kirby. Look, sis, don’t kill us, okay, but Kristen and I talked about you keeping the dog.”
“Brian, that’s just not possible right now.”
“We want to make it possible. Kristen said she would pay for the vet and license and food until you could afford it. And I said I would take care of the guy while you’re working. You know, come over and walk him midday. At least until school starts again at the end of summer. And after that, whenever I can.”
“You didn’t promise the girls—”
“Of course not. We weren’t sure you would agree.”
She indicated the kennel. “You must have been pretty sure.”
“Well, until you find a home for him, you need a way to make sure he doesn’t get into trouble around here when he’s left alone. Kirby is such a cool dog, Heather. Let us do this for you and the twins. And for him, poor guy.”
Heather laughed at the way her brother was laying it on so thick. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Then it’s time for me to get out of here.”
“Yeah, I still have some work to take care of on the computer tonight.” Unfortunately, she had a couple of tasks to do for Sew Fine before she could go to sleep.
“Don’t stay up too late.”
“Now who’s thinking he’s the older sibling? I used to tuck you into bed.”
Brian just laughed as she walked him to the door, where she gave him a big hug. “Thanks.”
After he left, she thought about how in the past year he’d straightened out and grown into a responsible young adult. He was someone they could count on, and that was a good feeling.
Having a man she could count on was a pretty good feeling, too.
Rick...
What was she going to do about him?
She was so conflicted.
She could still feel the brush of his lips on her own. Could feel her heart speed up when he kissed her more thoroughly. She wondered what it would have been like if they hadn’t been interrupted, if he’d kept on kissing her.
Only o
ne man had ever really kissed her before.
She removed a scrapbook from a lower shelf of the side table and sat on the couch with it. This was her and Scott’s story. The memories they’d made together. Photos of them dating in high school. Of their wedding. Of Taylor and Addison as babies.
They were only three when their father was taken from them.
Remembering the DVD Taylor had been watching the other morning, Heather picked up the controllers from the coffee table and turned on the television and the DVD player.
There they were, Scott stooping to smooth Taylor’s hair...
“You’re Daddy’s little girl,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “You’ll always be Daddy’s girl.”
“Forever and ever?”
“Forever and ever. Cross my heart.”
Heather put the DVD on pause the way she’d done with her heart since learning the love of her life had been killed in Iraq. Forever and ever—that’s the way it should have been, but he hadn’t been able to keep that promise.
He’d been gone from her life for so long.
He could never hold her or kiss her again.
Scott wouldn’t want her to be alone forever.
He’d want her to be happy.
Could she forget the only man she’d ever loved and make new memories with someone else?
With Rick?
CHAPTER TEN
“THAT WASN’T A ghost you saw,” Rick assured Cora the next morning after he got her alone in the library to talk about the break-in.
Driving rain hadn’t stopped several new guests—a newly married couple, a retired couple and a youngish couple with a teenage girl and a little boy—from checking in. Rick had found Cora talking to them in the dining room, where they’d been about to have breakfast, so he’d asked her to join him in the library for a few minutes. He hadn’t expected this nervous, uncertain version of the woman he’d deemed competent the moment they’d met.
“I don’t know,” Cora muttered. “That wasn’t the first time I wondered about the place being haunted by Red Flanagan himself. I saw something on the balcony, too. And those noises in the wall—”
