by Mae Clair
Except that it was more than a photograph. It represented a scientific impossibility and the difference between truth and lies. She’d thought about broaching the subject at the party, but knew the timing was wrong. The discussion needed to be private, the two of them without distractions.
“You look fantastic, Ari,” a man noted behind her. “Why didn’t you dress like that when we dated?”
“Lucas.” Startled, she came to an abrupt halt in the hallway. She’d wandered off on her own to use the bathroom, wisely deciding she needed to double-check her makeup and costume after having Caleb’s hands and lips all over her. She’d taken a moment to freshen up, tugging the skimpy black body suit into place over her bottom, adjusting the plush bunny ears and cottony tail. Crossing paths with her ex on the way back to the party was worth the detour, if only to get an eyeful of his costume.
Dressed in a tight-fitting white loin cloth, he wore gold sandals with crisscrossing laces halfway up the calves. A hammered collar fanned outward from his neck to his shoulders, and his eyes were lined with black kohl. Except for the collar, his chest was bare, bronzed with the toasted almond glow of an early summer tan. A slow grin spread over her lips as she looked him up and down.
“I could ask you the same thing, Pharaoh. Lauren was right. You do have nice legs.”
He colored, not something easily accomplished.
“I wouldn’t have believed it,” Arianna continued, “if I hadn’t seen you myself.”
Lucas shrugged. “It was Lily’s idea. She wanted to come as Queen Nefertiti.”
Arianna marveled at the notion. She doubted Luke would have ever consented to anything so outrageous for her. “I didn’t realize you two were dating.”
“Quietly. We’ve been together for a while. Not long after you and I broke up.”
“Don’t look guilty about it, Luke. I’m glad for you.” She paused, reminded that he’d been a good friend even after their split. Except when he was acting protective or jealous. “I wish you’d be happy for me too.”
“You mean DeCardian?” Lucas frowned, his opinion of Caleb clear. “I don’t trust him, Ari. There’s something not right about him, like that whole line he fed you about being a retired colonel. I had a friend in the military run a records search on him, and it came up blank.”
Arianna felt a stab of panic. Luke would pick at a puzzle until it was solved. “Let it go, Lucas.”
“Why? I don’t want some jerk using you.”
“Caleb isn’t using me.” She started past him but he caught her arm, holding her in place.
“Be careful, Ari. I think your colonel is hiding something.”
A terribly ironic observation, given what she’d learned the previous night.
* * * *
An hour and a half into the party Arianna sensed several things going wrong. Daphne, unable to find Seth, degenerated into a theatrical tizzy fearing she’d been stood up. Looking silly and self-absorbed in Little Bo Peep ruffles and lace, she hunted Arianna down every twenty minutes like clockwork, whining about her misfortune before whirling off to burden someone else with her misery.
“How do you tolerate that woman?” Caleb asked when she’d left for the second time. Arianna had introduced them, but other than a polite nod, Caleb hadn’t bothered speaking. Not that Daphne would have given him the opportunity to fit a word in edgewise.
“She’s upset. Her date hasn’t shown up.”
“I can see why. She jabbers like a magpie.”
“Be nice,” Arianna admonished, but couldn’t help agreeing. As much as she loved Daphne, her sister had always been the drama queen in the family.
Beside her, Caleb grimaced and closed his eyes as if Daphne’s incessant chatter had pushed him over the edge.
She stiffened, recognizing the signs of a headache. By the looks of it, a bad one.
She was beginning to fear his pain had something to do with his presence in a century where he didn’t belong. She’d already dreamed up a host of cheesy science fiction complications including neurological disorders, gene deterioration and DNA anomalies. Wyn had to know what was wrong with him. The more she thought about it, Wyn had to know everything. He couldn’t possibly be Caleb’s brother, which meant he had to be Caleb’s ally. Hard to believe, given he’d been parading around looking like a matinee movie pirate all night. Lauren had teased him relentlessly, suggesting he “buckle her swash,” until blushing, he’d pulled her aside, and silenced her with a kiss.
Spontaneous, outspoken and fun. That was Wyn. By contrast, Caleb was not the kind of man to blush, too headstrong and domineering for anything remotely so humbling. Even now, he wouldn’t admit to feeling ill.
Arianna gnawed on her lip. “Do you need some aspirin?”
“Pardon?”
“Aspirin. For your headache.”
“Oh. No.” He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”
It had become a standard answer and was wearing thin with her. “You are going to tell me about those headaches sometime, aren’t you?”
“They’re not important.”
“I think they are. Caleb, we need to talk, and not just about the headaches.” She drew a breath and forged ahead. “I know about your past.”
Before he could reply, a flashbulb exploded to their left. Wincing at the intrusive sting of white light, he swore softly and pressed his fingertips to his temple. Lauren’s friend, Cathy, swept past with her camera, waving a snapshot at a furry-footed hobbit from The Lord of the Rings and a chubby Elvis in a rhinestone pantsuit.
Arianna refocused on Caleb. His headache was growing, etching creases beneath his eyes. “Maybe we should leave.”
“No. I’ll be all right. I just need–” He turned, distracted by a commotion at the front of the room. Arianna followed his gaze, but saw only the usual crowd of people, Wyn and Lauren among them. She was about to look away when the throng parted and a scantily-dressed belly dancer sauntered to the front with her tall, blond-haired date.
Caleb’s face drained of blood.
Rick Rothrock had arrived at the party.
Chapter 16
Arianna froze, determined not to deteriorate into a blithering idiot. It was only Rick Rothrock. The same everyday Rick, young-gun entrepreneur and self-centered real estate guru who had married her best friend. Tall, blond and GQ-model handsome, he was as restless as they came. His women rarely lasted past the effort of learning their first name. At the end of the day, Rick was solely and predictably about Rick.
Except once.
Shortly after his divorce from Lauren, he’d shown up on Arianna’s doorstep in a drunken stupor, mumbling incoherently about the mess he’d made of Lauren’s life. How he never should have married her, was sorry, didn’t deserve anyone’s friendship, and considered himself irredeemable scum of the lowest order.
She’d agreed.
The discussion might have ended there if he hadn’t begged her to hear him out, launching into an impassioned plea about the woman he truly loved. A beautiful blonde who’d haunted his dreams from the time he was eighteen. Even drunk, he spoke with tortured determination. He called the woman his phantom lover, swearing he had no idea who she was, but that he was sick with longing for her. He told Arianna he’d never be happy until he found her, and that the only reason he flirted with other women was in an attempt to drive her from his mind. Nothing worked. He was in love with an idea, a dream.
A ghost.
As impassioned as he’d been, she’d written the whole thing off as the ramblings of one too many Jack Daniels. She’d never breathed a word of it to Lauren, and Rick never mentioned it again. From that point on, he’d acted as though the incident never occurred. She didn’t know if he’d been too drunk to remember or too embarrassed to face her. Either way, the mysterious dream woman was forgotten, and Rick Rothrock returned to his sexually indulgent lifestyle.
Heart hammering, she flicked a nervous glance at Caleb.
Science fiction, fantasy, reality. In a mome
nt, the three were going to converge in a head-on collision. In the back of her mind, she’d already determined the name of Rick’s lady ghost.
“Caleb?”
A sheen of sweat clung to his cheeks, tinted gold in the halo of low-level lights. “Who the hell is that?”
She hesitated, watching Rick lap up the attention of everyone around him. Born for the spotlight, he looked 1920s-slick in a black zoot suit with white pin striping, a green silk shirt, black tie and suspenders.
That is a shallow, materialistic man whom I pray to God isn’t connected to you the way I think he is. She swallowed hard. “Lauren’s ex-husband, Rick Rothrock.”
“Rothrock? That’s not possible.” He pinched his eyes shut and pressed a hand to his forehead. “This shouldn’t be happening. Curse it, my head feels like it’s going to explode.”
Her heart plummeted. “Caleb?”
“Hey, Ari, look who finally showed up. It’s King Richard.” Lauren’s bright voice drew her around like a marionette on a string.
Arianna gaped stupidly, her pulse triple-timing into a bouncing drumbeat.
“Yeah, he has that same lovely train wreck effect on me too,” Lauren teased, misinterpreting her reaction. She favored her ex with a sweet smile before flicking a glance at his date. “And this is, uh…” She motioned to the barely-legal belly dancer clinging to Rick’s arm. “What was your name again, honey?”
“Tiffany.”
“Yeah, Tiffany.” Lauren made a shooing motion with her hand. “Why don’t you run along and find yourself a drink? Let the grown-ups talk for a while.”
“Lauren,” Rick warned in a tight tone, but the girl seemed unaware of the slight. Rick gave her a token kiss, and she sauntered away in the direction of the patio. “That wasn’t nice. I said good things about you.”
“You should stop lying, Richard. It doesn’t fit your public image.”
“Smile, everyone!” The bubbly command came from Cathy, who appeared with her Polaroid, snapping a quick photo of the five of them together.
“Wow!” Rick zeroed in on the camera. “I remember those! My dad had one.”
“Then you get to keep the picture.” Cathy ripped the film covering free and passed him the snapshot. “Not as good as the Sagehill Business Journal, but I want a photo credit if you publish it.” Giggling, she sashayed back into the crowd.
Lauren huddled close to study the shot. “God, I look like a tub! Tear it up, Rick.”
“Nothing doing.” He tucked it into his pocket.
“You look great,” Wyn told her, hooking an arm around her waist. “Good enough to pirate away to a deserted island.” He kissed her cheek. It was only then he realized something was wrong with his brother. “Caleb, you okay?”
“Yeah. Headache.”
Wyn tensed. “How bad?”
“Looks bad,” Rick observed, trying to catch Caleb’s gaze, but the other man kept his eyes averted. “Lauren’s new boyfriend is a doctor. How’s that for a stroke of luck and a house call?”
“They’re brothers, you idiot.” Lauren smacked him on the arm, parting with a theatrical eye roll.
“Another DeCardian?” Rick frowned. “That’s bizarre. I picked that name for my new condo community. Pulled it from a phone book on the fly. DeCardian Pointe. Maybe you’ve heard of it?” Leaning forward, he made another attempt to catch Caleb’s gaze. “Off Route Eighteen by the theater?”
“Sorry.” Caleb shook his head, one hand shielding his eyes.
Rick scowled, unaccustomed to being ignored. He looked fidgety to Arianna, as if something had teetered unexpectedly off balance in his usually perfect world. “Do I know you?”
“I–”
Arianna heard indecision in Caleb’s tone. Uncertain, he raised his head.
And looked directly into Rick Rothrock’s eyes.
Crack!
The air shuddered from top to bottom, split by a sudden barrage of thunder. In the blink of an eye, the sound system died. The lights popped and hissed with a fizzle like water on coal, flickering feebly before plunging the room into darkness. A collective gasp rose from the crowd, followed by a drumbeat of utter silence. To the left, someone tittered nervously.
“It’s just a power failure. Nothing to worry about,” a masculine voice called from the patio and Arianna recognized Lucas’s familiar bass tone. “Nice party, Lauren,” he added, eliciting a rustle of laughter as the guests relaxed and adjusted to the darkness.
Arianna reached for Caleb. In the semi-black, his eyes were luminous and bright, glowing pure silver. Like a wolf.
It wasn’t the first time she’d had the thought. Goosebumps prickled her arm from shoulder to wrist. “Caleb–”
Boom!
This time the blast was deafening, rocking the house to its block foundation. She clamped her hands over her ears, buffeted by a violent explosion of energy and sound. It was like being caught up in a whirlwind. The floor shuddered and rumbled beneath her.
“It’s an earthquake!” someone yelled.
“No!” Lucas’s voice again, coming from the direction of the patio. “Look outside. Ball lightning!”
A streak of white hurtled past the patio doors. A third boom followed, chased by a zigzagging ball of blinding light. There was a mad dash for the windows as everyone strained to see.
“Cathy! Cathy get your camera,” Lauren called. She tugged on Wyn’s sleeve, pulling him toward the patio “Wyn, look! Can you believe this is happening at my party?”
Before Rick could move to join them, Caleb snagged his arm.
“What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean? I–shit!” Rick’s eyes bulged as he looked from Caleb’s face to the hand coiled around his arm. His features contorted with fear, his terror palpable, growing by the second.
“What are you doing to me? What’s going on?” Rick sounded on the verge of hysteria. He tried to back away, but Caleb’s hold was ruthless. To Arianna, it seemed like the two men were locked in an invisible vortex. The air thrummed, pulsing with near-tangible bursts of kinetic energy. She could almost see it, green-white like the explosive shower of ball lightning outside. It left her breathless, weak-kneed and half nauseous. It rolled over her, unfettered, disinterested, its focus on Caleb.
Caleb and Rick.
By the patio, a few people turned to stare, thinking they were witnessing a trick.
“What’s happening?” Terrified, Rick kept his gaze locked on the other man. “Shit! What. Are. You. Doing. To me?”
“It’s not me. I swear to God, it’s not me.” Caleb’s arm shook with the strain of his grip. Grinding his teeth, he squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to sever the contact. In that instant, Arianna understood he was as powerless as Rick to stop what was happening.
Thunder rattled over the roof. There was a rapid pop-pop-pop like a volley of gunfire. While the party guests all talked and jabbered at once, three balls of lightning streaked past the window.
Caleb panted, his face contorting in pain. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t know–” His knees wobbled, buckling beneath him.
“Wyn!” Arianna shrieked. She lurched forward, but Wyn was there first, running to catch his brother as Caleb crumpled.
Rick shook off his grip, staggering backward. “Stay away from me!” He stabbed a shaking finger at Caleb. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but stay away.”
Wyn hooked his brother’s arm over his shoulder, supporting him when he started to sag. “Get out of here,” he snapped at Rick, one arm wrapped around Caleb’s waist to keep him upright. He looked at Arianna. “Is there someplace more private?”
“This way.” She hurried through the darkness, leading the way to the den she and Caleb had used earlier. Something unseen had passed between him and Rick. Something that had rattled the usually unflappable and superficial Rick Rothrock to the core. And Caleb…his headache was out of control, pushing him to the brink of collapse. The encounter between the two men left her frightened
and jittery with nerves.
The electricity surged to life with a sluggish pop as she opened the door to the den. She located the off-switch for the speakers, then dimmed the recessed lights so the glare wouldn’t bother Caleb. Behind her, Wyn guided his brother to the couch.
“I’m all right.” Caleb waved off his help, easing to a seat. He leaned forward and cupped his head in his hands.
“Feed that shit to somebody who believes it,” Wyn snapped, glowering down on him. “What the hell happened back there?”
Caleb raised his head, his eyes narrowed against the throbbing in his temples. Outside, the sky had cleared, untouched by the fiery turbulence of ball lightning. “You sound upset, Winston.”
The attempt at levity fell flat. “Caleb, I swear to God–”
“All right. That man–”
“Rick Rothrock?”
“Yes.” He shot a wary glance at Arianna. To Wyn he gave an imperceptible shake of his head. “We’ll talk about it later.”
“You don’t have to.” Gathering her courage, Arianna stepped forward and went straight to the heart of the matter. “What he’s trying to tell you, Wyn, is that Rick Rothrock is his father.”
Chapter 17
“Have you lost your mind?” Wyn thundered
Had she? Was she insane, living out a science-fiction fantasy like a pitifully deranged B-movie queen? One glance at Caleb told her she’d struck a nerve. The insight made her blunder ahead before her courage failed.
“I know the truth. I found a picture in a book of Civil War photos. Colonel Caleb R. DeCardian with Meade and another general at Gettysburg. I have a copy of it in my purse if you don’t believe me.”
Wyn gave a loud snort. “Arianna, do you hear yourself?” He pointed to Caleb still sitting on the couch. “He’s wearing a costume. A costume!”
Arianna wet her lips, fighting to calm the rat-a-tat drill of her heart. Terrified to look at Caleb, she kept her attention on Wyn. “The man in the photograph had a diamond-shaped scar on the side of his neck,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “His parents built Weathering Rock in the eighteen hundreds. He fought at Gettysburg and served under Meade. He was listed as missing in August of 1863. He–” She sucked down an unsteady breath, her whole body trembling as the absurd improbability rolled over her. Was she crazy? Hot tears flooded her eyes.