“Issues?” Roarke asked.
Linda’s cheeks went pink. “I can’t talk any more about it. The lawyers say I can’t.”
Roarke almost cursed. Friggin’ lawsuit worries, probably. Instead, he drew in a deep breath to clear his head. “Thanks ladies.”
With that, he left the offices. What a waste. He went through the rotunda and out the front, exiting the building. His emotions were tangled between curiosity and remaining anger. He shouldn’t have reacted to his father’s news so vehemently, but he’d kept in his true thoughts far too long. Shit.
He walked around the massive building. It was colder than hell and the wind tossed the huge pines surrounding the area. Again the whistling came to his ears. It belonged to the forest, not a human. He saw a figure at the corner of the graveyard watching him. It was a tall man something like what he’d seen near the recreation center. As Roarke squinted, the figure moved behind a thin aspen tree and disappeared. Perhaps a new tenant he hadn’t met? Instead of going toward the recreation area, he headed toward the graveyard. He’d never visited the graveyard. He’d never seen the need. He loped up the hilly area right before the graveyard, expecting to see the visitor. The graveyard wasn’t as large as one might expect for a former insane asylum, but it also hadn’t been taken care of. No fence kept people out. He walked among the gravestones, some leaning here and there, many weathered and etched. He couldn’t read many of them. Damn shame. Steele Company should provide for the place in respect for those who’d died at the asylum. He reached the tree where he’d seen the man. No one was there. What the hell?
A whispering made him jerk around. No one. Treetops swayed, pine needles talked, and branches rubbed together. The forest conversation gathered strength. He heard voices in the wind. What do they say? He stood still and tried to understand. He waited, mesmerized by the idea. The area grew darker as clouds scuttled over the sky. Discomfort made him shift. He glanced at his watch. Several minutes had passed. He needed to stop screwing around and return to his apartment to prepare for the party tonight. Before he did that, he headed to the recreation building. All the doors were locked. So, the man couldn’t have hidden in here. Disturbed, Roarke returned to his apartment, questions swirling in his mind.
* * *
Melissa sat in her car outside Tranquil View for too long Friday night. She’d almost had to park down the hill along the road and walk up. A circle through the parking lots, and she’d found one space open.
The parking areas were jammed, so she wasn’t alone, but the lot still felt wrong. The lights had dimmed, their feeble attempt at illuminating the lot evident. Melissa glanced around as paranoia worked. Darkness, as it always did, acted as a fear factor. Since she’d starting coming here and the incident at the haunted house, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the building watched her. Watched and waited. Row upon row of windows eyed her. On the third floor, no lights shined; on the second, a few lights burned, and the bottom floor was entirely lit up.
She half expected the ugly van person to appear and it scared her. She worried he’d show, and yet she fussed that she spent any time thinking of the man. Logic told her the killer had left the county long ago; it wouldn’t prove smart to hang around the area. Part of Melissa felt on high alert after all that had happened recently. Drawn tight with tension, her shoulder muscles ached. Her nervousness had as much to do with attending this event as it did with killers and weird supernatural events.
“What are you doing?” she asked out loud. “Get with the program.”
She didn’t want to believe that viewing a young man’s death had affected her this deeply. At least, she assumed his death explained why she was discombobulated and turned inside out with doubts and fears she couldn’t recall having her whole life. Confidence had eluded her many times, but never with the strength it did now. She closed her eyes and tried to center her thoughts toward positive outcome. When she opened them, she pulled her hat closer around her ears, buttoned the throat on her coat, and hefted her purse over one shoulder. She’d heard there would be a coat check, and she imagined this affair would be fancy. The only dress in her closet that worked was a black sweater dress with turtleneck and long sleeves. It went with her knee-high boots.
She exited the car, locked it, and hurried across the parking lot like the bogeyman was tailing her. Thank goodness the ground wasn’t slick with ice. Once inside the rotunda lobby, she breathed a sigh of relief. Henrietta stood in the lobby along with her husband. So did a few others waiting in line for coat check. Two of the women in line glanced over her and dismissed Melissa with one glare.
“Hey.” Henrietta waved her over. Melissa eased her coat off and smiled at Henrietta and her husband Bradley. Henrietta wore a navy coat dress with a beautiful paisley scarf, rich with colors. She looked pretty. Her husband wore a dark gray suit.
“Hi guys. How are you?” Melissa asked.
“Stunning,” Bradley said. “We’re showing up to this thing wondering why the hell we are here.” He grinned. “Your store almost gets blown off the face of the earth, and we’re doing a fancy dress ball.”
Henrietta laughed and swatted his arm. “Shh. Someone will hear you.”
He rolled his gaze, but his smile said he was kidding. “Who gives a frig.”
Melissa confessed. “I almost reconsidered coming.”
“Why?” Henrietta waggled her eyebrows. “You get to see Roarke.”
Heat filled Melissa’s face. “And?”
Henrietta mimicked her husband’s earlier eye roll. “Lord save me. Girl, when are you going to admit that you’re crazy about him?”
Acknowledgement rolled upward inside Melissa, but she sure as hell wouldn’t admit it. “I just met him.”
After that illuminating introduction to the evening, they left their coats with the coat check and skirted the administration area to exit the back door and head to the recreation building. Floodlights illuminated the grounds behind the main building. They stepped down to the grass area and past the picnic tables. Crisp, cold air nipped at Melissa from all sides.
When they entered the recreation center, the first thing Melissa saw was Jana pulling Roarke down for a kiss.
Chapter 14
Melissa’s heart took a dive. Even the Fifties tune pumping from the speaker system and the couples dancing couldn’t pull her attention away from the scene in front of her. Jana locked her arms around Roarke’s neck and his hands went to her waist. But what he was wearing shocked her almost as much as the way he held Jana. Dress uniform, if she wasn’t mistaken. The Marines version. And oh, baby. He looked hot.
Why on earth would he be wearing that to an event like this? But then quite a few other people wore costumes, some from other eras. The room hummed with the voices of a good two hundred people talking, laughing, eating from the nibbles buffet on the north side of the room, and whirling on the makeshift dance floor. Melissa vaguely registered all of this.
Henrietta cleared her throat.
Bradley said, “Well, would you look at that?”
Melissa didn’t say a word. How could she? If Roarke wanted to take on Jana Peterson, good luck to him. Then she saw Roarke pull away from Jana’s possessive grip, a look of utter impatience and annoyance on his face. Melissa smiled.
“Anyone tell you we were supposed to dress up in some weird costume?” Bradley asked as he looked at his wife.
“Nope.” Henrietta shook her head. “Not that it would have mattered since we don’t have any. I guess it’s supposed to be a Halloween party?”
Before Melissa could add her two cents, a very tall man in his thirties walked up to their little group and introduced himself.
“Dax Peterson.” He extended his hand. “I’m Jana’s cousin.” Dax smiled and the whole world smiled with him. He shook Melissa’s hand enthusiastically. “I’m helping her with the party tonight.” His voice rang pleasant and deep. Dax wore a World War I costume, or at least that’s what it looked like.
As Henriett
a and Bradley talked to the man, Melissa cataloged him. He was taller than Roarke, and that was no mean feat considering Roarke already topped six feet and then some. His body had a gangly appearance, as if he’d grown too fast and hadn’t filled out the uniform. His face was model-handsome and the family resemblance to Jana was clear. His blond hair seemed styled with a GQ precision that was plastic. One word popped into Melissa’s mind. Smooth.
Melissa's attention had shifted back to Roarke and Jana. She watched the couple and recognized the pang of jealousy. She didn’t like the feeling, but on the other hand, it was there. She couldn’t deny it. So when Dax asked Melissa to dance, she accepted without hesitation. His fingers wrapped around hers and he led her to the dance floor.
“You may regret this, Dax.”
“Not a chance.”
“I can’t dance.”
He simply grinned and they mixed with the surging, flowing group writhing on the dance floor. Jana kept her paws on Roarke, and Melissa found she was too preoccupied with watching them. Dax kept up a steady chat session and didn’t seem to notice Melissa had one eye on him and one on Jana and Roarke. Every time Melissa glanced over to find Jana and Roarke, they danced fast and not slow. Good thing. If they’d danced slow ....
God, Melissa, grow up. This isn’t high school, and Roarke isn’t your boyfriend. If he wants to screw the cheerleader he’s welcome to her.
Maybe it was that thought which kept her dancing with Dax. She resolutely decided she wouldn’t look in Roarke’s direction again.
* * *
“Jana told me you work in the new age shop,” Dax said later as they went through the buffet line.
Melissa’s stomach growled, but she didn’t add much to her plate but raw veggies and dip. “I own it.”
“I’m in town for the week and Jana told me. She said the store would probably close down after that explosion.”
“Is that so? What gave her that idea?”
Several people in the line ahead of her must have heard the conversation and threw her interested looks. He must have heard her defensive tone as well, because he chuckled nervously. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to step on toes. I just know what my cousin says.”
“Lots of rumors in small towns,” she said. “I’m not letting this beat me.”
After they got their food and stood over to the side, Dax bit into a Vienna sausage with enthusiasm. “You like having a new age shop?”
Subtle condescension laced his voice, and exasperation rose quickly within Melissa. “Very much.”
He munched a raw carrot loudly, and she wanted to wince. Noisy eaters had always driven her nuts. Yet all around her the volume was going up. Perhaps someone had dialed up the music? Or the number of people in the room had increased?
“But is it safe to work there?” he asked.
His question was multilevel and she knew that. She put her paper plate on a small table nearby and peeled back the long sleeve on her sweater dress to show him the bandage near her wrist. “Shards of glass here.” She also pointed at the nick on her chin. “And here.”
“Jeez.” He wrinkled up his mobile face. “Jana told me you almost got run over by a car, just like that kid the other day.”
What a thing to bring up at a social conversation. She retrieved her plate and slowly munched another veggie. “Yes. Sprained my wrist, but I took the brace off. It seems to be fine now.”
“I’m glad it wasn’t worse. Do you think all of these events around here are connected?”
A prickle started at the back of her neck. “Events?”
“You know ... the boy getting run over, you almost getting run over, the gas explosion ... everything.”
“The papers speculated and people are throwing around rumors.” She didn’t want him to know what she honestly believed about the situation.
“Hmm. I think you should consider it more truth than speculation.”
Melissa knew one thing about herself if she knew nothing else—try to twist her arm or brainwash her, and she became even more stubborn. “Sorry, but that’s the way I look at it. I don’t expect everyone to have the same opinion.”
He frowned, as if her statement made no sense at all. Around them the noise got louder; the chatter and conversation was starting to get on her nerves. More people poured onto the dance floor.
Dax chewed relentlessly, and Melissa could swear the sound of his eating could be heard above the music and conversation. Maybe it was just that he’d started to annoy the hell out of her.
“Don’t you think the world would be a better place if everyone believed the same thing?” he asked.
She laughed softly, but there wasn’t a grain of humor in the sound. “No. And that’s never going to happen.”
“Are you certain?”
Dax made her want to scream. She knew better than to allow his indoctrination, or whatever it was, get to her. Yet it did. She wanted to run from the room. “Yes, I’m certain.”
“Too bad. I thought for sure you’d be a perfect person to believe in the one right way.” One right way? Cripes, wasn’t there anyone left in this town who hadn’t gone bonkers? The guy was as loony as Jana. “It’s prophecy,” he said with a straight face this time, as if he needed to show her the error in her thinking. “All the bad things happening in town are for a reason. A purpose. A greater purpose.”
Again she smiled without humor. “I have a lot of ideas about that and it has nothing to do with prophecy.”
Arrogance lined his face. “Well, you’ll see. But we can agree to disagree for now. What’s the matter, Melissa?” Dax’s smile turned calculated, and her bullshit-o-meter tripped.
“Nothing.”
“People seem to be getting hot under the collar.” His gaze cruised her body, clearly happy with what he saw. Suddenly the figure-fitting sweater dress didn’t seem like a good idea. “I think you should be careful of mingling with people who believe in unclean things.” He tossed his paper plate into a nearby trashcan.
“Unclean?”
“People who don’t know the true way.”
Music shifted and the heavy rock song banged out a few more bars before the finish. A new song eased from the speakers, and Melissa recognized String of Pearls by Gershwin. All around her, heat rose. She wanted to run away.
“Let’s dance.” Dax grabbed her hand and gave her just enough time to pitch her plate into the garbage.
Before she could protest, he pulled her onto the dance floor. His arms slung around her waist as he tugged her into his body. Everything within her rebelled. The room seemed a live thing as bodies swayed, and she became a part of the action. Repulsion followed as his smile turned to a lust-filled leer. She pushed hard against him, and he lost his grip. Melissa almost stumbled into another couple. Fear propelled her away as if she’d touched snake’s flesh. She made her way through the crowd with the sound of String of Pearls pulsing in her ears. Such a sweet, beautiful song for such an icky feeling. She walked quickly to the sign labeled restrooms. She pushed through the ladies room door and into a large area set up to be a combination bathroom, shower, and locker room. She hurried through the locker area to the sinks. Her breath rasped in her throat as shivers ran through her body.
What the hell had happened out there? Why had she panicked? Unclean. She washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face. Hell with makeup. The shock of cold water brought some clarity. The automatic faucet turned itself off. She used a wad of paper towels and dabbed her hands and face dry. Only the crinkle of rough paper broke the silence. After she’d tossed the towels into the garbage, she stared into a mirror and tried to understand her reaction.
Dax—well, he was Jana’s cousin and that might explain the creep factor. It didn’t explain his mentioning hanging with so-called unclean people. She replayed the scene. The loudness of the music, the old song strange and out of place with the way people danced—rubbing together, pelvis to pelvis as if they rocked in sexual frenzy. She shivered. Time to go out and face whatev
er happened. With effort, she exited the room.
Dax stood against the wall near to both restrooms. A salacious expression filled his cold, gray eyes. He moved, and she stepped back, coming up against the bathroom door as it swayed shut. “Bitch.”
She blinked in disbelief. He’d just called her a bitch? Shocked, she didn’t respond. He crowded her, and Melissa sidestepped so he couldn’t push her back into the isolation of the locker room. He didn’t touch her, but he was in her face, the heat of his body invading her personal space.
“You think you can flaunt it like that,” he said, “and there won’t be consequences?”
“Get away from me.” A panicky edge entered her voice. “Don’t touch me.”
“Yeah, asswipe.” A deep voice she recognized, infused with steel, came from behind Dax. “Get the fuck away from her.”
Roarke. Relief made her sag against the wall.
Dax turned enough to see behind him. “Who the hell are you?”
“Nobody you want to cross.” Roarke’s body language said everything a person needed to know. Resplendent in dress blues, his face hard as stone, eyes firing artillery, the Marine looked as if he’d never retired. His fists clenched slightly at his side.
Dax laughed. “Would you look at that? What are you? Captain Crunch?”
“Chief Warrant Officer Roarke O’Bannion.” When Dax didn’t move, Roarke’s voice came again. “Step away from her. Now.” This time he enunciated every word as if Dax was thicker than a plank.
Dax’s self-satisfied expression slipped as he moved aside. Roarke kept his attention pinned on the other man and held his hand out to Melissa. Instinctively she slipped her fingers into his. He brought her to his side and gave Dax one last disgusted look before leading her back down the hallway.
He led her away from the main noise and the locker rooms, in sight of the people cavorting on the dance floor. He released her hand. “What the hell were you doing with him?”
Shadows Fall Page 16