Shadows Fall

by Denise A. Agnew

  At one point he said, “I plan to settle down now that I’m retired. I’ve always wanted a big family.”

  She felt sucker-punched, and for a moment it felt like all the breath had left her body. She kept her tone neutral. “That’s nice.”

  Well, what difference did it make that she couldn’t have a big family if she wanted it? Pain rose up inside her, but she carefully schooled her expression. It didn’t matter that he wanted a wife and family. It was his business.

  “You’re staring at me,” he said. “Have I got pasta in my teeth?”

  “No. I’m trying to figure out what makes you tick.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve always had good instincts about motivations. Why people do things.” She gestured into the room, which had started to fill with other patrons. “Take that older couple over in the far corner.”

  “They look like something out of the early nineteen hundreds,” he said.

  “Yep, she’s wearing pink gingham and he’s wearing a very proper suit. Just looking at them I’d say they are conservative in word and deed. They threw us a very dirty glance when we first came in. Maybe they think my dress is too short.”

  His gaze turned molten hot as he looked at Melissa. “It isn’t too short as far as I’m concerned. It’s barely above your knees.”

  Melissa’s cheeks heated, but she ignored the fact he liked her dress. “Ah, but the gingham lady’s dress is at least mid-calf. Her collar is high and she has long sleeves. That in itself wouldn’t mean she was conservative. She could just like that type of dress. But there’s an aura about her, if you know what I mean. It’s pinched off and stifled.”

  “Aura?” His voice was all skepticism.

  She drew in a deep breath and smiled. “I’m empathic. I pick up things about people.”

  He grunted. “You read minds?”

  “No. Not that often. It’s more complicated than that.” She picked up her wine glass and polished off the last of her drink.

  “I don’t put much credence in psychic stuff.” His gaze sparked with interest, and centered on her with warmth. “But I’m good at noticing things about people, too.”

  “Really? Okay, what do you think you know about them?”

  A hint of a smile touched his mouth. He finished chewing a roll. “I don’t have to be psychic to figure things out, and neither do you.”

  Half amused and half chagrined by his skeptical outlook, she said, “Yeah, yeah. I get it Mr. I-Don’t-Believe-In-Jack. So what do you think you know about them?”

  Obviously undisturbed by her teasing, he said, “They belong to a cult outside of Simple. A big complex about ten miles into the mountains.”

  So he did know about these people. “Men who want to keep wives under their thumbs?”

  “Barefoot and pregnant.” His voice was husky and mellow.

  Melissa’s heart felt light. “They might have ten kids. In any case, we’re probably at least a little bit right about them. By the way, there is a cult ten miles from here and they believe women are second class citizens.”

  “I read about it in the paper.”

  “Why, isn’t this cozy?” an annoying female voice said a second later.

  Jana Peterson arrived at their table, and right in that moment Melissa imagined lifting her glass and tossing water into the woman’s face. Her own cattiness with the woman surprised her. She didn’t often feel this intensely a dislike for the average person, even those that annoyed her the most. Instead, of fulfilling her fantasy, Melissa said, “Good evening, Jana.”

  Melissa glanced at Roarke, who sipped his wine before setting the glass on the table. “Hey Jana. What brings you here?”

  Satisfaction filled Melissa. Roarke didn’t look happy to see the woman—just the opposite. His expression was guarded.

  Jana’s expression went from cool to sweet in a beat. Discomfort curled in Melissa’s stomach, though she didn’t know why. Jana planted her hands on her hips. She wore a sophisticated and conservative gray pantsuit with pearl earrings, necklace, and bracelet. Her hair was up in an immaculate upsweep. Well-coordinated and coiffed seemed to be Jana’s signature style, and she knew it.

  “I didn’t realize you knew each other.” Jana continued to smile, but ice coated her voice as her gaze darted between Melissa and Roarke.

  Way to go, Jana. Don’t even try to hide the contempt. “We met recently,” Melissa said.

  Roarke didn’t say a thing, and that surprised Melissa.

  “Oh?” Jana’s question held inquisition style venom.

  Melissa wanted to roll her eyes at the dramatics. “I was walking across the street and some guy almost ran me over. Roarke saw it happen.”

  To Melissa’s surprise, Jana looked stunned. “That’s horrible. I mean, that you were almost run over.”

  Melissa held up her bandaged wrist. “Minor damage.”

  “Are you here to enjoy dinner?” Roarke asked Jana.

  Jana smiled. “I know the owner.”

  “That’s right. Giancarlo Marshall is a city councilman.” Melissa’s wrist started to ache. “Does he object to Halloween, too?”

  Jana’s pretty pout tightened into a frown. “Not very much. That’s why I—” Jana stopped herself cold and continued in another vein. “It was wonderful spending time with you last night, Roarke. You’re working so hard for our charity.” Jana’s gaze traveled over him, then skipped to Melissa. “He’s quite handy. He’s helped us repair some things with the haunted house. He does everything so well.”

  Melissa lifted one eyebrow. “I’m sure he does.”

  “Skilled with his hands.” Jana’s grin was self-satisfied. Roarke still didn’t speak.

  Heat, this time from perturbation, filled Melissa’s face. Her reaction to the woman’s insinuations bothered her big time. If Jana and Roarke had formed an alliance, that was up to them. Still ....

  As if Jana knew she’d scored a direct hit, she planted her hands on her hips again and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner. Good night.” She stalked off.

  “Well,” Melissa said. “That was interesting.”

  “She a friend of yours?”

  Melissa couldn’t stop the snort. “Friend? Hell, no. Sounds like she’s a friend of yours, though.” Oh, hell no. Did I say that out loud?

  One of his eyebrows tweaked upward. “No. But she wanted to be. She’s pissed because I wouldn’t have sex with her.”

  More heat filled Melissa’s face, her imagination jumping directly to the idea of him naked and having sex with her rather than Jana. Holy hell, Melissa. Get a grip.

  “Oh,” was all she managed to say for a moment. To cover up her discomfort she continued telling him about Jana’s posturing on the city council, and the way she wanted to close down Halloween festivities.

  “Yeah, I noted that when I first joined the haunted house committee. Thought it was damned strange that she would be involved with the committee in the first place if she didn’t like Halloween.” He shrugged.

  Melissa almost elaborated on her dislike for Jana, but she suspected he could tell. Based on his statements, she doubted he’d been doing the two-backed beast with Jana, though she couldn’t say for certain. Better to keep enough distance until she knew him better. Getting too interested in the man would be unwise on so many levels.

  After they finished their dinners and headed back into town, their conversation strayed from mundane to more personal.

  “You’ve lived in this town awhile,” he said. “You heard about my mother’s disappearance right? I mean, before I told you.”

  “I’d heard rumors. Ida told me when I saw her in the lobby of my apartment building. She was ogling you. You’d just driven up on your motorcycle after that truck almost ran you off the road.”

  “Ogling me? Why?”

  “Because she may be old, but she isn’t dead.”

  He made a soft laugh. Oh, man. He does look great when he smiles like that. Deliciously good, damn it.

 
“Were you ogling me?” he asked.

  Truth time. Do it or die. “I was actually wondering if you were hot. I saw you out of my window.”

  “Hmph.” His non-committal sound told her nothing.

  “But I suppose you’re used to women drooling over you.”

  “Hell, no.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t think you’re good looking?”

  “Christ, no. I think I’m pretty ordinary. I work out, yeah, and try to stay in shape. But I don’t spend much time thinking about what I look like. That’s a waste of time.”

  “I like that. A man with a stable but not inflated ego.” He chuckled, and she laughed with him. “Back to your mother,” she said. “I didn’t get the paper at the time she went missing. When I arrived in Simple I didn’t have access to much gossip.”

  “You do now?”

  “Henrietta has a tendency to gossip. Not maliciously, though. Just general info. And when I got to Simple I kept my head down.”

  “Kept your head down?”

  “I was giving myself a break from the rat race. I’d always had it in the back of my mind to open a new age shop. I wanted to break out and do what really mattered to me. I just ... there was a lot going on at the high school where I worked that I couldn’t stomach. I realized one day that I was damaging my health and happiness. When I came to Simple it was a quest.” She winced. “It’s a horrible cliché, but I needed to find myself.”

  “Did you?”

  She sighed, but it was a happy, relaxed thing. “Mostly. Simple may be a fairly conservative place, but there are pockets of open-minded people who are moderate in their thinking and like the motto of live and let live. This whole ban Halloween next year thing kind of surprised me.”

  “Crazy stuff. Remember the good old days?”

  “You mean the ones that never were?” he asked.

  “Yeah, those.”

  “In those days I wore a witch costume almost every year at Halloween.”

  “Are you a Wiccan or a pagan?” he asked.

  “Not specifically. I’m spiritual.” She glanced at him quickly. “Henrietta isn’t Wiccan either, but we have a lot of clientele who are.”

  “Maybe the majority of city council will figure out that they shouldn’t be digging into everyone’s business,” he said. “They couldn’t stop people from having Halloween at their homes, could they?”

  “God, I hope not.”

  They reached her apartment building, and he parked around the back. Through the darkness a fine dusting of snow drifted on the breeze. Temperatures had dropped quickly over the last few hours, and trees swayed under the onslaught of a coming storm.

  She turned to him. “Thank you for dinner.”

  “You’re welcome. But you paid. So thank you.”

  “See you around?”

  “I’m walking you to your door. I don’t let women walk through dark alleys by themselves.”

  “Let them?”

  “Sorry, wrong wording. I’d rather you didn’t walk through that alley in the dark.” He put his hand to his chest. “It’ll give me peace of mind to walk you to your door.” She eyed him suspiciously, but before she could comment, he said, “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to get an invite into your apartment.”

  “Good.” She smiled. “Because you aren’t getting one.”

  His return smile said he took no offense. They left his SUV, but as they walked, she felt tension rising within her. This man impressed her with his desire to protect, but she’d met men like this before. No, he wouldn’t control her or lead her or take anything she didn’t wish. She’d see to that.

  When they reached her apartment, she unlocked the door and gave him a quick smile. “I had a nice time.”

  “Me, too.” His gaze turned hot. “Want to do it again sometime?”

  “Sure.” She said so without thinking much about it. “Maybe I’ll come to the haunted house. Are you working every weekend?”

  “Yep. Suiting up and scaring the hell out of everyone. Even you.”

  She smirked. “Thanks for the break.”

  “Anytime.”

  She touched his sleeve, felt heat and muscle move. “Talk to you soon.”

  She felt tension rise between them, a recognition of something not fulfilled that yearned and beckoned. He leaned toward her and cupped the side of her face. “I’m not coming into your apartment.”

  Her face heated under those words and under his touch. His fingers were so warm and gentle as he tilted her chin up. She smoothed her hands over his chest as they touched, enjoying the heady sensation of hard chest muscles bunching under her caress. “No, you’re not.”

  He gently kissed her. Hunger struck her square in the stomach, arousal stirring. She hadn’t experienced desire like this in so long—a hungry, feverish explosion that literally made her wet with need, aching for him in ways she shouldn’t on such short acquaintance. All night she’d built to this crazy desire. He molded, shaped, tasted with an exquisite tenderness she hadn’t expected. It was light and tantalizing and promised the world. She responded with eagerness as he coaxed her. Her fingers pressed into his chest, wanting to feel naked skin against her fingertips. Had it been with any other man, she would have pulled away by now. He didn’t hold her against her will or attempt anything more, yet she wanted more. She wanted with a savageness that made her all the more excited. When his tongue dipped into her mouth, she moaned softly. His arms went around her, drawing her full into his strong body. She wrapped her arms around his neck and went straight into the fire he promised. He tasted her with one hot stroke after another. His hips touched hers, and she couldn’t miss his full arousal pressing against her. Finally, he pulled back and looked down at her. He was as flushed as she felt, his eyes hooded.

  With a deep breath, he released her and stepped back. “Sleep well.”

  He turned away without another word, leaving her aching to the core. Sleep well? Only if she could stop thinking about that kiss.

  Chapter 5

  Simple Daily Herald

  Friday, October 5th

  * * *

  Simple has seen a rash of break ins in the last couple of days. Police are providing few details on the disturbances because of ongoing investigations. Three homes have been broken into this week, a higher rate than expected for the community at any time. While items were not taken from these residences, doors were broken in, items were rearranged, and glasses and plates were destroyed. The sheriff's department says it is likely the work of a single individual or individuals acting as one. Teenagers are suspected, based on the nature of the break-ins.

  * * *

  It was a perfect night for a haunting. Melissa drove her compact up the long drive toward Tranquil View Condos. It was opening night for the haunted house. Tall pines clustered along the twisting, turning road that led from the main highway into the former asylum grounds.

  Weather cooperated this evening. A dusting of snow off and on over the last two days had kept people skidding around town and had generated a few fender benders. Nothing unusual. Melissa felt as if a certain something was off, different than last year at this time. Of course last year she’d been too wrapped in her own issues with moving to notice much about Simple’s idiosyncrasies. She’d settled in and made an uncomplicated life in Simple. She laughed softly. A simple life in Simple. As the saying went, it was all good.

  Then she thought of her dinner with Roarke the other night and freaked. She’d broken her dating rule. She never kissed a guy on the first date. Especially not a guy like him who was a raging skeptic about the paranormal and had a rigid mentality. It had just happened, and he had seemed as disconcerted by the event as she was. She sighed and decided to get over herself. Having fun tonight would serve as her goal. She wouldn’t concern herself over seeing Roarke. No doubt he’d have plenty to keep him busy as a member of the spook team.

  She hadn’t reached the halfway point down the long drive, when she heard the throaty roar of an engine com
ing up behind her. She glanced in the rear view mirror and barely made out the outline of a van on her ass. Without the headlights on. What the frig? As if she’d summoned them, the van headlights illuminated her car with a blinding flash. “Crap,” she murmured on her breath. “What the hell is wrong with you? If you were any closer you’d be in the backseat with me.”

  The van roared past her at tremendous speed. She didn’t get a good look at the person driving; she was too busy taking the next curve and slowing down. Let the nimrod endanger himself. She negotiated the sharp turn, half expecting to see the van in a head-on collision with another vehicle. Instead when she made it around the corner, the van had disappeared. Up ahead, in a break through towering pines, the Tranquil View Condominiums came into view. Wind blew pine needles over her windshield, and she could have sworn she heard the wind moan.

  “Perfect for a haunted house.”

  She’d seen pictures of Tranquil View as it had looked long ago, then on glossy brochures when it had opened as condos. The local historical society museum on the main drag through town had a significant display on the place, but she’d never gone through the museum.

  The parking area in front was sectioned off into two separate areas, and a large gravel driveway led up to the front door. As she drove down the gravel way and took the first left into the fairly full parking lot, she noted the van sitting in front of the front doors. Three figures unloaded and ran up the stairs into the building. She shook her head. Probably some teenagers hoping to find a scare. In Simple, thrills came few and far between. She parked under one of the ornate parking lot lamps. After assuring her cross body bag was secure, she gripped her keys in her right hand and left the car.

  She assessed the building. Even barely illuminated, the asylum had a gray, imposing heart. A fountain, which had been put in recently, didn’t run in the winter months. The facade had been totally repaired, every nook and cranny fixed. It looked, perhaps, much as it must have when it first opened in 1888. Despite renovations, the place could be called creepy in a purely esthetic sense. She understood they’d left the old graveyard behind the property intact, and the gymnasium behind the building they’d converted into a fitness and recreational center.