Possessed by a Stranger

by Jeny Stone

  “I haven’t seen the inside for quite a few years. I bought it for the cottage’s historical value.” Actually, she had only seen pictures when the deed was legally put in her name. She wouldn’t mention she inherited the cottage. Her ancestry lineage was her private business. This small community may or may not welcome a relative of Louise back into the fold. Even with four generations of separation, the sultry tale had passed down through each and every one. The recollections she heard vilified Louise. The Presley’s loss of a son outweighed any sympathy for his grieving lower class lover.

  A couple of hard pulls by Bob, unstuck the door. He walked inside before Hannah had a chance to enter. She ignored his grunts of disapproval as he continued through the cottage. She needed to make a quick assessment before any other contractors arrived.

  The cottage was in better shape than she expected. Apparently, the ghost of Louise Abernathy had kept any potential vandals at bay. The large rooms had ten-foot ceilings making them seem larger. She loved the airy feel after living in her box of an apartment. The window casings hadn’t survived the years of neglect. Safety issues and utility cost took precedence over having them repaired. As soon as she had accurate measurements she would place the window order for modernized replicates. The cottage was exactly how she imagined. The history embraced her. She spread her arms, twirling around the rooms, wanting to soak the ambiance into her heart. She was finally home.

  Hannah faced the electrician, plumber, carpenter, painter and roofer for a briefing. Seth, stood behind her. She was used to him shadowing her. He had followed her around like a puppy dog during her initial inspection. She thought about turning around suddenly to yell “Boo”. The possibility of running across a country critter prevented her from scaring off her potential protector. She would have loved to have seen his reaction.

  Hannah handed the men job scopes for the project. They glared, rolled their eyes, and she even heard a few grunts of disapproval. “Here are list of ‘do’s’ and ‘don’ts’ in conjunction with your expertise. The main thing you need to remember is, nothing is removed, torn into, or damaged in anyway without my explicit written approval. Read over the scope carefully before submitting your bid. If you have any questions please ask as your looking over the cottage. I have the original blueprints along with the blueprints for the downstairs bathroom addition.”

  Bob, the man always in charge, interrupted Hannah. “Well those gaslight fixtures have to be replaced unless you don’t want electric lights. Are you going to pick them out or do we add them to the bid?” With a hardy chuckle, Bob asserted his authority over electrical issues.

  “Whoa, let’s get something straight. I’m not remodeling, I’m restoring and keeping as much of the original light fixtures as possible. I can convert the gaslight chandeliers into electric. Most of them look like they are made out of iron and I can refurbish them. If you look over your scope, you’ll see materials are not to be included in your bids.”

  Bob, wasn’t willing to relinquish his self-appointed management status. “You realize we get paid by the hour. Any delays on your part are a waste of your money.” His chuckle was a lot less hardy this time.

  Hannah was experienced with multi-tasking testosterone filled contractors. Starting each new project, she found it imperative to set the ground rules upfront and establish who was footing the bill. Otherwise, the project could be turned into a disaster. All these men carried drills, hammers, electric saws and wrecking bars they loved to use. Making sure they used their tools of destruction correctly would be a full time job.

  “Let me assure you, there will not be any delays attributed to me. A trailer will be dropped here tomorrow with materials. I suggest you take down all the fixtures first. That way I can assess their condition and start work on the keepers. The painters will be scheduled to follow your progress to paint and repair the ceilings. By the time you are done running the new wiring, I will have the original chandeliers ready to be reinstalled or replacements. I need this work done quickly, so if you need to hire extra help to keep up, just add that to your estimate.” With Bob under control, the rest of the contractors fell into line.

  Workers and work kept Hannah preoccupied for weeks on end. Electricians, plumbers, roofers, painters, gardeners and a small cleaning crew, none of which understood restore versus remodel, had to be hand held through the process. She reeked of bleach and lemon oil when she tumbled onto her inflatable air mattress at night. Mr. P. Garret must reside in her air mattress because as soon as her tired body hit the sheets he appeared in her thoughts.

  Without a second to reminisce during the day, she reserved the dreamy moments before she fell asleep to relive her wonderful night. She created different scenarios in her mind where they met again. Him knocking on the front door of her cottage, her walking along the country road, and her favorite, a huge ad in the newspaper begging her to contact him were a few of the beginnings to her fantasy. All of them ended with her naked in his bed. So, even if it was a fantasy, she fell asleep every night feeling his arms holding her tight as her head rested on his firm chest.

  As soon as the cottage had running water and some electricity, she had relinquished her motel room to take up residence in her new home. With sweat, knowledge, and a waning patience, she earned her contractors’ respect. Her restoration was efficiently planned and coming up to the three-month completion date, on track, to finish on schedule.

  Her furniture was scheduled to arrive tomorrow. She looked forward to seeing her truck drivers as much as her furniture. At least they knew what they were doing. Things should slow down now, giving her time to breathe without gasps of astonishment at the newest blunder her contractors committed. Something as simple as a bathroom break had cost her thousands of dollars and a two-day delay. The plumber decided to run the pipes through the wall instead of underground. Some days, relieving your bladder turned out to be a costly necessity.

  After her furniture was in place, she should have the opportunity to visit the neighbors. The Presley’s still lived on the family estate next door, if you considered two miles next door. She had yet to meet them, being swept under from the constant barrage of contractors.

  The welcomed sight of the truck transporting her furniture enticed a squeal of delight as she opened the door to run outside to greet her drivers. They introduced her to the two extras she hired to assist, then immediately started working. Hannah directed the furniture’s placement with her regular drivers taking charge of unwrapping the protective materials and monitoring for damages. During the lunch break Hank sat on the tailgate of the truck beside Hannah. She had suspected there was something on his mind most of the day from the worried look on his face. She was hesitant to ask in case it was something she didn’t want to hear. She cringed at the thought they may have found a better proposition and was dumping her.

  “Miss Hannah, you had a couple of visitors I think I should mention.” Hank’s voice held concerns.

  “Did you know them, Hank?” Her heart skipped a beat. So, P. Garret was looking for her after all. She had almost given up hope of ever seeing him again. She was afraid he really was from out of town and had returned home.

  “No ma’am, they asked where to find you … but I played dumb. They weren’t any of your regular clients.”

  “Thank you. Did they leave a name or tell you what they wanted?” She tried to sound nonchalant wanting to grab Hank’s shirt and shake the answers out of him. Her stomach had tightened at the possibility she would see Mr. P. Garret again.

  “The first two guys said they were your friends. I figured that if they were friends, they would know where you were. One of them was Jay. He was pretty pissed … excuse my French.”

  “No problem. You said first. Was there more?” Please, say there was more. Jay could look all he wanted. They were done, over, finished. He could go screw himself or his secretary. He was obviously good at doing just that.

  “A big burley guy, that looked like a cop. I think he was packing. He of
fered us compensation for the information. Of course, we refused. You’re not in any trouble are you? I know some guys that can take care of any problems.”

  “I’m fine. That person wasn’t a cop. He works for an acquaintance of mine. If he gives you any trouble, don’t hesitate to call the police.” They both laughed. She was sure for different reasons from the sinister tone in his deep you’ve-got-to-be-kidding chuckle. Ooo…kay, so there were some things about her drivers she was better off not knowing. They were still the best.

  ****

  Exhausted after months of revamping the Presley Foundation, Garret was finally in a position to breathe again. He worked day and night, without a moment to relax and very little time to sleep, to meet his goal. Now, fully staffed with people he trusted, the foundation was again running smoothly. He had attacked the challenge vigorously until it was conquered; giving it everything he had in his arsenal. Unfortunately, leaving nothing of himself for anyone or anything.

  This weekend Garret scheduled a monthly trip back home, which he had postponed for the last couple of months. He considered doubling up on the visits and probably would, depending on the condition of his ninety-two year old grandfather. That reminded him to check his other email account. A reputable art dealer had promised to locate the other three Abernathy paintings for a humongous finder’s fee. Those paintings would brighten up his grandfather’s remaining days and he would pay any price to put a smile on his grandfather’s face.

  He planned to spend Friday night with Hannah, reminding her why she should find or sell him the last painting. After that kiss in the bar, he knew she might be surprised when he showed up unexpectedly at her door, but she wouldn’t turn him down. After a successful completion of a project, Garret liked to play and play hard. Something about Hannah made her his playmate of choice or necessity. He was a one woman at a time man and she was stuck in his mind. Until he received his fill of her, he couldn’t move on to his next conquest.

  A month or two with any one woman was his estimated time limit based on previous experiences. That was enough time for him to get bored or them to get greedy. Greed usually superseded his boredom since they had to prove their worth in bed before advancing to anything longer than a one-night stand. Hannah, on the other end of the spectrum, had superseded his requirements in bed. She hadn’t answered his messages on her web site, which didn’t deter him. If she wanted to play hard to get, so what, let her try. He had felt her passion erupt when he kissed her. She was his for the taking.

  Garret opened the email. Damn it to hell, the paintings he was promised weren’t obtainable. If they were out of circulation, why had the art dealer promised to locate them? He grabbed his phone to demand an explanation when he noticed another email.

  Abernathy paintings as a heading caught his attention. Very few people knew the identity of the artist. He opened the email. He presumed the blank email was a hoax or oversight until he noticed the attachment. He opened the attachment, which took a few seconds to download.

  The picture on his computer screen amazed and aroused him. Hannah had all four paintings and she had the audacity to taunt him with her accomplishment. Finding all four paintings completed his obligations that had crushingly weighted his shoulders. Now all he had to do was get them from her.

  “Well I’ll be damned. There’s more to you, than I ever thought possible.” Garret chuckled. He typed a reply of see you soon. The email stuck in cyber space with an explanation of an invalid email address. Hanna Greer might hide in cyber space but he knew where she lived. His play date with sexy lady fast-forwarded to now. The first thing he would do when he arrived was check her for balls. Apparently, she grew a pair of brass ones since he last entered that tight wet dream maker. He assumed the shadow figure was an invitation, which he accepted. Oh yes, he would gladly kiss that ass and more until she screamed over and over. Damn, he wanted that woman in the worse way.

  He signed off the email, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. A push of the number one key on his cell, alerted Jeff he was leaving. He stopped at the door to his office to adjust himself from the uncomfortable beginnings of an erection. Hannah’s bold move to antagonize him had potently aroused him. The long night he had planned, just got longer.

  Garret climbed in the front seat. In closer quarters, Jeff’s reactions would be easier assessed. He wanted information from his driver, his only source since Ted failed so miserably. Where Hannah was concerned, he wasn’t convinced Jeff would be honest. “The apartments in Old Town, where Hannah lives.”

  Jeff glanced tentatively toward his boss. “I’m banging one of her friends, I met at the bar. No one has seen Hannah in a couple months. Around the time you had that meeting with her.” Jeff sounded sincere, although nervous from relaying bad news.

  “Really, what are her friends saying about that?” It was actually good news. She hadn’t run back to a life of comfortable with her ex.

  Garret hadn’t exploded so Jeff freely spilled his guts. “They figure . . . no, actually they know she’s pissed because everyone knew Jay was screwing around and no one told her. They all got the hint after her speech. Jay is pissed at her because she left the bar with you. But according to him, he would take her back in a heartbeat. He is banging as many of her friends as possible for consolation. Larry the love sick bartender is heartbroken because she won’t return his calls or answer her door.”

  “Sounds like a soap opera to me.” Garret huffed disappointed in Jeff’s gossip. He wanted information on her, not them.

  “That bar’s a hoot. They are all probably related if their parent’s bed hopped as much as they do. You’ve heard the old saying ‘keep it in the family’. These people take it literally. Once you’re in one pair of panties, the rest of the girls spread ’em wide.” Jeff stopped to add a job saving exception. “But not Hannah, boss. From what I can tell, she was the only sane one of the bunch. I swear, I haven’t heard one bad thing about her.”

  “I know.” Garret, already bored hearing about people he didn’t know or care about had let that comment slip out unexpectedly. He regretted it immediately seeing Jeff’s face perk up with a wide grin. Hannah’s virginity must have been common knowledge amongst her friends. If she wanted to keep her loss of it a secret, he should respect her wishes. Although, he preened like the cock of the roost knowing, she had chosen him.

  Jeff slapped the steering wheel with his outburst of laughter. “So the rumor is true. Never mind, it’s none of my business. Serves Jay right, he’s a class one prick.” Jeff chuckled all the way to the apartments.

  This was his first time to see where Hannah lived. The old apartment complex surprised Garret, after running Hannah’s financials. She could easily afford something better than this dilapidated building. Then, she was a mystery.

  “Wait here.” Garret left the car to enter the building. Jeff could wait as long as it took him to get his fill of Hannah. That should deter his interest in her, as he imagined Garret fucking the hell out of her. Inside, the building wasn’t the squalor he expected. With Hannah in the antique business, he knew, she would appreciate the character of the building. It was located in the historical section so the building’s maintenance directly affected the owner’s ability to collect tax credits. He climbed one fight of winding stairs to her second floor apartment.

  Garret knocked on her door anticipating a shocked Hannah to answer. The door was opened by a young woman carrying a beer. She leaned on the doorframe, smiling provocatively. “Well, hello. How can I help you?”

  His mood worsened when confronted by a slutty college student. He glared at the half shit-faced girl. If this was Hannah’s roommate, he might have misjudged her maturity. He had overlooked her younger age guessing there wasn’t more than ten years difference. He might need to check on that detail. “I’m looking for Hannah Greer.”

  “She moved out. I live here now. Why don’t you come in?” She invitingly swept her arm in front of herself.

  “Do you know where Hann
ah moved?” He doubted the girl knew where she was right now, let alone where Hannah moved. Being outfoxed again by Hannah made him more determined than ever to find her. She had raised the stakes with her possession of all four paintings in their cat and mouse game. He called her play. He planned to place his full arsenal of resources on the task of finding her. Garret Presley never lost especially when so openly challenged. For such a sweet piece of ass she was becoming a pain in his.

  “No, but the old lady next door might. Are you sure you won’t stay?” Her voice slurred showing her agitation and inebriation. He walked to the next door in the hallway hearing the first one slam shut.

  Garret knocked on the neighbor’s door. He heard mumbling of curse words from an elderly voice. It took a few moments before the door opened. An old grumpy woman wearing a granny housedress frowned at him. “Ma’am, I’m looking for Hannah Greer.”

  The woman looked him over. “Why? I don’t give out information to strangers. Everyone and his or her brother have come by looking for her. That girl should have told people she was moving so they would quit bothering me.” This woman was going to take a little finessing if he expected to get any information.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you but I have a piece of merchandise she wanted to purchase. I misplaced her cell phone number so I came here, to her last known address. Here is my card. If you happen to see or hear from her, would you have her call me?” He turned on his charm smiling as she looked over his card.

  The woman raised her head to peer through the glasses on the tip of her nose. She read the business card sliding her finger over the embossed letters. “She brought me some strawberries last week. She was always bringing me stuff. She is in the country somewhere. Have you checked her storage buildings? That’s why she was in the city, to check on them.”