Dead Perfect

by Amanda Ashley

  Going into the bathroom, she poured some mouthwash into a paper cup and rinsed out her mouth, hoping to dispel the strange taste that lingered there. It was an oddly familiar taste, but she couldn’t quite place it.

  She took a quick shower, put on her nightgown, brushed out her hair, and climbed into bed, only to lie there, wide awake. Was Ronan in bed? Was he asleep? Or was he lying there, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep for thinking of her? Wanting her the way she wanted him?

  Ronan, in bed. She frowned thoughtfully. What did he wear to sleep in? He hadn’t brought any luggage with him. Was he sleeping in his underwear, or in nothing at all?

  Impulsively, she slid out of bed and padded across the hallway. She pressed her ear to the door, listening for some sound that would indicate he was still awake. Hearing nothing, she turned the knob. The door opened on silent hinges and she stepped inside, closing the door behind her before she tiptoed toward the bed.

  Even in the dark, she could see that it was empty.

  Frowning, she turned on the light and glanced around the room. There was no sign of Ronan.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ronan walked the dark streets of Middletown. Tall trees lined the sidewalks like dark sentinels. A full moon hung low in the midnight sky. It was still hours until dawn and he was reluctant to seek his rest so early. Noting the deserted streets and dark houses, it was obvious that few residents of the town shared his love of the night. Sad, he thought, for there was a beauty and a serenity in the night that few took the time to notice.

  Leaving the residential area, he found a singles bar on the edge of town. The place was doing a brisk business and he ducked inside and found an empty booth in the back. His senses were quickly overcome with the myriad scents and sounds that filled the air.

  A waitress appeared at his table and he asked for a glass of red wine, then sat back and watched the mortals at play. But he had little interest in their comings and goings. It made no difference in his existence if they found what were looking for, whether it was forgetfulness in a bottle, or a warm body with whom to share the night. All he could think of was Shannah. Her scent clung to his clothing. His wrist still tingled from where her mouth had drawn nourishment. The taste of her kisses lingered on his lips, his body remembered the heat and the softness of each lush curve, his arms ached to hold her again. He yearned to lie beside her, to bury himself in her sweetness and pretend, if only for a little while, that she was a healthy woman and he was a mortal man, and that there was nothing on earth or in heaven to keep them apart.

  He sipped the wine the waitress had brought him, amused by his maudlin thoughts. He had been content with his life until he met Shannah, but a few months in her company had him yearning for things he thought he had put behind him forever.

  Things like marriage…He grunted softly. He must be losing his mind, to sit there and contemplate marriage to a mortal. A mortal who was dying. But she didn’t have to die. With luck, his blood would keep her alive for years to come, or he could bring her across and keep her with him forever. He swore softly. He knew how to bestow the Dark Trick on a mortal, but he had never done it. What if he tried and failed? There wasn’t much he was afraid of, but the thought of trying to bring Shannah across, and failing, filled him with dread.

  Would she accept the Dark Gift if he offered it to her? She had come to him looking for a vampire but he had known she didn’t really believe vampires existed, that it had been fear and desperation that had sent her to his door. How would she feel if she knew that he was indeed a vampire? Would she still want the Dark Gift if she knew obtaining it was a very real possibility?

  He sat in the bar until it closed and then he went out into the darkness once more, enjoying the beauty and the quiet of the night.

  A patrol car slowed, keeping pace with him for half a block or so before going on.

  A dog barked at his passing.

  A cat hissed at his approach and then scurried up a tree.

  He walked by Shannah’s house, pausing in the shadows to listen to the even sound of her breathing. Assured that she was sleeping soundly, he returned to the park where he had taken her earlier and sought shelter in the cool loving arms of the earth.

  In the morning, Shannah wasn’t surprised to find that Ronan was nowhere in the house. She made some excuse to her mother about his having an early appointment with his agent in the city, then spent the rest of the day wondering where he was and what he was doing and why she was surprised that he wasn’t there in the first place. He was never around in the morning. Still, he might have told her he would be gone.

  She had breakfast with her parents, then helped her mother tidy up the house. Later that afternoon, she and her mother drove into the city. They had lunch at Shannah’s favorite restaurant, and then did a little more shopping.

  They were leaving one of the department stores when someone called Shannah’s name. Turning, she saw her friend, Judy Kingston, hurrying toward her. Judy had blue eyes, red hair, and a pixy nose dusted with freckles. Shannah felt a twinge of guilt for leaving Middletown without telling Judy good-bye.

  “Shannah, I don’t believe it!” Judy gave her a hug. “You don’t know how I’ve missed you!”

  “Oh, Judy,” Shannah said, returning her friend’s hug. “I’ve missed you, too!”

  Judy smiled at Verna. “Hi, Mrs. Davis.”

  “Hello, Judy. If you girls will excuse me, I’ll just run into the drug store while you chat. I need to pick up a few things.”

  “Sure, Mom,” Shannah said.

  “Shan, where have you been for the last eighteen months?” Judy asked. “Your parents wouldn’t say much, except that you’d moved to California, of all places.”

  Shannah shrugged. “I just needed to get away, you know? Look at you!” she exclaimed, hoping to change the subject. “Mom told me you were pregnant again!”

  Judy placed one hand over her swollen belly. “Aren’t I always?”

  Shannah laughed. Judy had two boys and twin girls. They were, Shannah thought, four of the cutest red-headed kids she had ever seen.

  “I think this is going to be our last one,” Judy said. “Or should I say the last two.”

  “Twins again?” Shannah exclaimed. “Oh, Judy, how exciting! I think.”

  “Shannah, I’m twenty-six years old and I have four kids under the age of six and two more on the way. Believe me, I’m past being excited.”

  Shannah nodded, though it was hard to feel sympathetic when Judy had everything Shannah wanted and would never have.

  “How are the other kids doing?”

  “They’re all fine. My mom’s home with them, God bless her. I love my kids dearly but if I couldn’t get out of the house once in a while, I swear I’d have a nervous breakdown.”

  “Well, you look terrific.”

  “I look fat, but you look great.” Judy sighed dramatically. “I don’t think I’ll ever be skinny again.”

  “Listen, do you want to go have a cup of coffee?”

  “I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m already overdue at home. My mom’s great about watching the kids every week or so, but I feel like I’m taking advantage of her if I’m gone for more than a couple of hours. It was great seeing you again, Shan. Call me soonest.” She gave Shannah a hug. “Oh, and tell your mom good-bye for me.”

  “I will. And you give your mom my best.”

  With a nod and a wave, Judy hurried down the street.

  Shannah stared after her friend. She and Judy had been practically inseparable all through school, but then Judy met Alex and the next thing Shannah knew, Judy had graduated and married Alex. Since then, it seemed as though Judy was constantly pregnant. Shannah felt a sudden wave of envy for her friend. Judy didn’t know how lucky she was. She had a wonderful husband, happy, healthy kids, a nice house and, God willing, years to enjoy it all.

  With a sigh, she went into the drug store to look for her mother. She found her at the cash register paying for her purchases. />
  “Did you and Judy have a nice chat?” Verna asked as they walked toward the car.

  “Yes. I sure have missed her.”

  “She’s missed you, too. I know she’d love it if you moved back home. Of course, your father and I would like nothing better.”

  “I don’t know, Mom,” Shannah said evasively. “We’ll see.”

  It was a little after four-thirty when Shannah pulled into the driveway of her parents’ home. Switching off the ignition, Shannah noticed there was a late model Honda parked in front of the house. Though there was nothing ominous about the car’s appearance, she hurried up the walk to the front door and into the house.

  “Is anything wrong?” her mother asked, hurrying into the house behind her.

  “No, nothing,” Shannah assured her mother, and then almost jumped out of her skin when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Verna said.

  “No!” Shannah said, “I’ll get it.” Taking a deep breath, she opened the front door, felt her heart jump into her throat when she saw Jim Hewitt and Carl Overstreet standing on the porch.

  “Afternoon, Miss Black,” Hewitt said.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Forgive the inconvenience,” Hewitt said. “We were hoping to get an interview.”

  Shannah glanced at Overstreet, then back at Hewitt. “Don’t tell me you’re a reporter, too.”

  Hewitt nodded.

  “And you came here together? Why? Do you work for the same paper?”

  “No,” Hewitt said smoothly. “We’re more like friendly rivals and since we both wanted a story, we thought we’d save some money and rent a car together. Talking to the two of us will save you time, you know?”

  “Who is it, dear?” Verna asked, coming up behind Shannah.

  “Reporters, Mom. They want to do an interview with me.”

  “Oh, that’s very nice, I’m sure, but wouldn’t they rather talk to…”

  “I’ll take care of this, Mom. Would you make us some coffee, please?”

  “Of course.” With a little huff of annoyance at being summarily dismissed, Verna disappeared into the house.

  “So,” Hewitt said, “what do you say? We won’t take up too much of your time.”

  Shannah considered for a minute. Would they think it was odd if she said no? If she were really an author, wouldn’t she welcome any publicity she could get? Darn Ronan, where was he when she needed him?

  “I guess I have time to answer a few questions,” she decided.

  Hewitt smiled. “Good.”

  “Let’s sit out here,” Shannah said, “on the porch.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  She sat on the swing and Hewitt and Overstreet pulled up two chairs and sat facing her.

  Overstreet withdrew a small spiral notebook and the stub of a pencil from his shirt pocket. “How’s the tour been going?”

  “Very well, I think,” Shannah replied. “The store managers have all seemed pleased with the sales and the turnout.”

  “Will you be returning home soon?” Hewitt asked.

  “Yes, I think so. Why didn’t you tell me you were a reporter?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t want you to think that was why I was interested in you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Now that you know,” he said with a wink, “I’m still interested.”

  “Knock it off,” Overstreet said irritably. “We’re not here to get you a date.”

  Hewitt shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  Overstreet scowled at him, then looked back at Shannah. “How long have you known your publicist?”

  “Not long, why?”

  “Readers are interested in that kind of thing,” Overstreet said.

  “Has he gone back to California?” Hewitt asked.

  “No.” Feeling oddly uncomfortable, she looked from one man to the other.

  Eyes narrowed, Overstreet slid a glance at the house and then he leaned forward, reminding her of a wolf on the scent of blood. “Is he here?”

  “No, he…uh, went into the city on business.”

  “So,” Hewitt said, “will you be doing any more signings or interviews while you’re here?”

  “No, I won’t.” She frowned at Overstreet. “How did you two find me?”

  Hewitt and Overstreet exchanged glances.

  “We’ve been following you,” Hewitt admitted with a sheepish grin. “Hoping for a scoop.”

  Shannah was trying to think of a suitable reply when her mother stepped out onto the porch.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” Hewitt said. Rising, he took the tray from Verna’s hands and placed it on the table between the two chairs. “Will you join us?”

  “Thank you.” Verna poured coffee for the two men, a cup for Shannah, and one for herself, then she sat down on the swing next to Shannah. “So, you’re reporters?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Your daughter’s a remarkable author. You must be very proud of her.”

  Verna glanced uncertainly at Shannah.

  “Of course she is,” Shannah said quickly. “You know how mothers are.”

  “Of course,” Hewitt said, smiling at Verna. “So, what do you think of your daughter’s books?”

  “I…uh, well, naturally, I think they’re wonderful,” Verna said, warming to the subject. “But Shannah doesn’t really…”

  “Mom, could I have a refill?”

  “What? Oh, of course, dear.”

  “I’m sorry your publicist isn’t here,” Hewitt said. “I was hoping to ask him a few questions.”

  “What publicist?” Verna asked.

  “The man traveling with your daughter,” Overstreet said.

  “Oh, you mean Ronan,” Verna said, laughing. “He’s not…”

  “Mom, maybe Mr. Hewitt and Mr. Overstreet would like some of that cake you made last night.”

  “Of course, why didn’t I think of that?” Verna smiled at the two men. “I’ll just be a minute.” Rising, she hurried into the house.

  “Excuse me,” Shannah said, “I’ll be right back.”

  She found her mother in the kitchen pulling dishes out of the cupboard. “Mom, they don’t know that I’m not Eva Black. It’s a secret.”

  “It is?”

  “Yes, didn’t I tell you?”

  “I don’t think so, dear,” Verna exclaimed. “I hope I didn’t say anything out of line.”

  “No.” Shannah smiled. “Let me take the cake out and get rid of them.”

  “All right, dear. I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn.”

  “I don’t think any harm was done.”

  Taking the two plates, Shannah returned to the front porch.

  “Here you go. My mom’s a great cook.”

  She handed each of the men a plate, then resumed her seat on the swing.

  “Any other questions?”

  “How long have you had a publicist?” Overstreet asked.

  “Not long.”

  “Does a good job, does he?” Hewitt asked.

  “Yes, he does.”

  Hewitt grunted softly. “I notice he only accompanies you at night.”

  “He likes to play the role of bodyguard, too,” Shannah said coolly. “He doesn’t think I should travel alone after dark.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” Overstreet said. “Will he be here tonight?”

  It occurred to Shannah that they seemed far more interested in Ronan than they were in her. Did they suspect that she was simply playing a role and that Ronan was the famous Eva Black? That would explain why they were following her, why they were asking so many questions about him, although she couldn’t imagine it would make a very interesting story. Then again, maybe it would be of interest, at least to the men and women who had come to the signings. What would Ronan’s fans think if they discovered she was an imposter? What if she had broken the law?

  “I’m not sure of his plans,” she said. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must get back t
o work.”

  “Do you think…?”

  “As I said, I have to go.” She rose, indicating the interview was over.

  “Of course.” Hewitt’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you for your time.”

  “Yes,” Overstreet said, rising, “thank you.”

  She watched the two men descend the stairs and get into the Honda parked at the curb. She wished suddenly that Ronan had been there. He would have known what to do. Nothing ever seemed to bother him, but doubts assailed her. Had she said something wrong? Did they know she was a fraud? Would they reveal it to the whole world? What would Ronan do if Hewitt and Overstreet splashed the truth on the front pages of their respective newspapers? And did it really matter? She didn’t understand why he wanted to remain anonymous, or why he had arranged such an elaborate charade.

  Well, there was no sense worrying about the consequences now. It was over and done and whatever happened now, she’d had a wonderful time in New York. She’d had a chance to experience life as a celebrity, and she liked it. She had been wined and dined by Ronan’s editor and agent, and she had liked that, too. And she’d had the opportunity to see a play on a New York stage. Humming the Beauty and the Beast theme song, she picked up the cake plates and went into the house to help her mother with dinner.

  Ronan appeared just as her mother was serving dessert later that night.

  “I’m beginning to think you’re afraid to try my cooking,” Verna said with a pout. “You’ve missed every meal since you got here, but you’re not getting away without trying my Dutch apple pie. Now you just sit down and try this and tell me if it isn’t the best apple pie you’ve ever tasted.”

  Ronan sat down beside Shannah and forced a smile. “I don’t eat many sweets, so I’m really not much of a judge.”

  “Go on with you now, I’ve never met a man yet who didn’t love my apple pie.”

  Ronan glanced at Shannah, but no help was forthcoming in that direction.