Darcy peppered them with more questions. She wanted to know all the where and when details of their paranormal experiences. Melissa was nervous on a whole level she hadn’t anticipated. A moment later Melissa heard Roarke clear his throat. He’d been explaining to Darcy that his mother’s journal contained various references to possible paranormal activity.
“Well I’d better take this back to the condo and start typing up my notes,” Darcy said. “The whole damned place is haunted to the gills.” She threw them a sheepish glance. “I mean, it seems like it is. Proof is proof, and if we don’t have any, then the average Joe on the street won’t believe Tranquil View is haunted.”
“You’d think Steele Company wouldn’t want people to verify a haunting here,” Melissa said. “Wouldn’t that drive people away?”
Darcy wrote some more on her pad. “You’d think ... but like you said, a lot of people want to stay in a haunted hotel, visit any haunted location and hope they see or hear something. Even if it scares the crud out of them. Steele Company figures the publicity is all good.”
Melissa wondered if she’d heard about Jilly’s assertion that demons roamed the place. She wondered what would happen in the next few days, and dread punctured the excitement Darcy displayed for the investigation.
“Melissa?” Darcy’s voice came through. “Okay?”
“What?” Melissa laughed. “Sorry, I zoned out. I was thinking how crazy this would all have seemed to me a short time ago. I mean, I’m a believer in the paranormal, but some of these things are so over the top.”
Darcy placed her notepad on the love seat and folded her hands in her lap. “Most people feel that way. Many have paranormal experiences, but don’t believe their own eyes or ears or feelings. They brush it off because of stigma. They don’t trust anything their senses tell them. You and Roarke ... you’re both highly credible witnesses.” A huge grin spread over her face. “And short of a video recording of a full-blown, full-body apparition, there isn’t much I like more than a very credible witness.”
“You have a full body apparition on video?” Roarke asked.
Darcy snorted. “I wish. The closest we came to that was a shadow person.” Darcy leaned forward again, as if winding up to tell them a campfire tale. “There’s a lot of conjecture on who or what shadow people are. They’re dark figures people see either in day or night.”
Melissa shivered. “I’ve read about them.”
“What makes them different from a so-called regular ghost?” Roarke asked.
Darcy looked upward a moment, as if trying to remember. “No one is sure that they are different. People see them in the day, too, so that might be a difference. To paranormal investigators they’re just one more mystery. We do have a photograph of a shadow person that I took in an old mining town. A hotel we visited.”
Roarke finished a swig of his cocoa and returned the cup to the coffee table. “How many people are on your team?”
“Me and four others. We started the team ten years ago. We’re cohesive and work well together. We’ve completed over a hundred investigations.”
Roarke glanced at Melissa, then returned his attention to Darcy. “Isn’t the hype created by Steele Company going to horn in on your investigation?”
“A little, unfortunately. We’ll have people all over the place who think they have a clue what they’re doing. We didn’t ask Steel Company to get paying members in to the investigation. They set that up to make cash. We shrugged because we want to investigate one of the most haunted places in Colorado. We’ll have to tolerate it to get what we want.”
“How do you know it’s the most haunted?” Melissa asked.
Darcy’s smile was pure satisfaction. “Too many people reporting strange occurrences. When I combed the archives, I read the same thing you probably did. The year the asylum was built in 1888, a lot of very nasty things happened around the world. Jack the Ripper. The two horrible blizzards here in the United States that killed a lot of people. Stuff like that. Then in 1908, your ancestors ...” She looked at Melissa. “No offense ... murdered those women and other bizarre things happened in Simple. Then, in 1918 ... well, you read about everything that happened there.”
Melissa knew what she meant. “The evil in this asylum overtook people while they were dealing with shell shock and Spanish Flu.”
“Exactly.” Darcy nodded. “And then other bizarre things happened in Simple at the same time. Just like they are now.”
Roarke grunted, the sound totally man and one hundred percent disbelief. “Now wait a minute. Even if this place has a few ghosts, I’m not ready to take on this idea that evil crosses over the decades and can influence people to do things they wouldn’t normally do.” He gestured with one hand. “Like murder. Like any event happening in Simple. The media gets a hold on this stuff and the hyperbole starts. They confabulate something out of nothing just to sell papers and get ratings.”
Darcy’s eyebrows went up. “You’re one smart man, Roarke. You’re right. Steele Company invited a reporter from the local Simple paper, and they’ve invited news media from Denver.”
Melissa groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding?”
Darcy sighed and eased back onto the love seat. “I wish I was.”
“Damn it.” Roarke’s words sounded like a growl. “Now I know they think this whole haunting thing is crap.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, but we know it isn’t, don’t we? If Steele Company goes too far and tries to turn this into a circus, we’ll stop the investigation. Yeah, there will be some newbie people hanging around. That’s okay. Once they see how we do things, maybe they’ll realize it isn’t the exciting stuff they see on television.”
Melissa left the couch to nuke some more cocoa. She put water into the mugs and placed them in the microwave. “Shifting to a different line of thought ... even if I one hundred percent believe in ghosts and hauntings ... this whole the entire town of Simple being possessed thing is too much.”
Darcy shrugged. “Which comes first? It’s the whole chicken and egg thing. If Tranquil View became evil over the years because of atrocities that happened here, what if that evil spread to the earth around it and into Simple? Or perhaps this area was already evil before Tranquil View was built. Who is to say?”
Roarke snorted. “You don’t believe that?”
Darcy scribbled on the notepad. “Maybe not. But it would explain why the town is nuts.”
The room went silent except for the sound of Melissa stirring the cocoa. Melissa took the steaming hot mugs back into the living room. “You mean like an infection. The bad karma spreads out to the rest of town.”
“Exactly.” Darcy smiled broadly.
Roarke crossed his arms and sat back. “If all the events in Simple and here at the condos is coincidence, it’s the weirdest I’ve ever seen.”
Darcy returned her questionnaire and pen to her tote bag and took a tentative sip of her hot cocoa. “I’d better get cracking. It’s been a long day and I have to contact my team and make sure they’re ready with all the equipment. They’ll be here tomorrow morning.”
Chapter 22
Roarke stalked the grounds of Tranquil View the next morning, his mind in turmoil and an ache in his heart. Though he’d surrendered to a small degree to the idea of hauntings, it still wasn’t one hundred percent. He wasn’t used to following much besides logic and common sense, and this didn’t seem to be a part of either one. Now, as wind blew across the landscape, rattling tree branches and howling, he wondered if his belief in this ghost crap would ever be one hundred percent. At least the paranormal investigation group would put to rest some of the rumors. He knew many of the things people said about this place couldn’t be true.
He’d skipped his usual morning workout to visit the graveyard. He’d rushed out here hoping the frosty air would revive him. Left over snow from the last storm crunched under his feet, but most of it had melted yesterday. He could still trek through the woods if he wanted without sink
ing deep into snowpack.
Winter wind whistled in the treetops as Roarke stood in the graveyard and tried to find his bearings in a world gone weird. The wind possessed a special bite, and despite his knit hat, parka, and gloves, he could feel it down to the bone. Here, where other bones lay beneath his feet, he sensed time. Time lay under him, and he dared to walk on people who had witnessed Tranquil View in its asylum days and had suffered things he could only imagine.
October couldn’t finish soon enough for Roarke. Before he returned to the asylum’s embrace, he wanted these few minutes alone to think. He hadn’t slept well last night, spending part of it on the couch so he wouldn’t disturb Melissa. It hadn’t worked, of course. She’d awakened to check on him, and they’d fallen asleep on the couch together. Holding her had helped. Somehow she’d worked her way under his skin. Big tough Marine. Yeah, right. A woman had broken him down and lifted him up, destroyed him and remade him. She hadn’t hurt him in any way, but transformed his thoughts and opened his mind to perspectives he wouldn’t have given two minutes thought a year ago. He hadn’t wanted to feel so much for her, but he did. Yeah, he knew it. He needed and wanted Melissa Allan in a way he’d never needed another woman. Their differences might causes issues, but he knew every couple worked on differences or relationships didn’t work. His parents had failed miserably, but he blamed his father as much for those things as he did his mother. He shook his head. He needed to get through the craziness at hand before thinking long term about relationships.
He walked among the headstones, reading the inscriptions on the few that had them. Most just featured a cross and a number. That’s it. Hell, identified as nothing more than a fuckin’ number. Roarke’s mind spun. He needed to understand his next move. What else could he do to find his mother ... even if she was dead?
An urge hit him, the sensation so strong he couldn’t resist. He walked, his feet taking him around the gravestones, moving almost in a trance. He didn’t consider where he planned to go or how far. To the east, toward the deeper, thicker forest. Wind whispered and seemed to speak his name. Tranquil View, even this far away, sat like a hulking monster. Over one hundred years of pain and suffering soaked this ground. Death tainted this land. It reached for him even here. He didn’t feel as if the graveyard held ghosts. The woods ... that was something else.
Evil was a taste on the tongue, and blood tainted the ground. He knew it somehow, some way. He shivered, and then couldn’t stop. His most rational brain wanted it to be the cold; the other part of him knew something lurked nearby. Here, a darkness wanted and craved his discomfort and walked nearby, if not right beside him.
Fresh, freezing air filled his lungs, but it also revived him. He’d stepped off the edge to admit he might believe in the supernatural—maybe, just maybe, there might be a grain of truth to what his mother believed and what so many others believed. He didn’t have to like it. Twenty years as a Marine hadn’t prepared Roarke for dealing with the paranormal. Facts were facts and he didn’t have evidence that went beyond his own senses. Perhaps at tonight’s investigation that would all change.
“Roarke!” He heard his name called but at first it sounded so far away. He jerked himself out of self-absorption long enough to recognize he no longer walked between and around gravestones. Forest surrounded him on all sides. Christ. Where the hell—?
“Roarke!” Melissa’s concerned voice carried on the wind.
He headed west, back toward her voice. How long had he walked? It seemed but a few moments ... five minutes at most.
He topped a hill and saw Melissa standing on the farthest east section of the graveyard. Fierce protectiveness forced his feet to move faster as he returned. If anything lurked in the graveyard, and if any evil demanded a chunk of flesh, he’d be here to shove it back, to make certain it left her alone. Whatever it was.
When she caught sight of him, Melissa headed his direction. His eagerness to hold her made him gather her tightly in his arms.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Me?” She pulled back and released him. “What about you?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I zoned out.”
“You were walking straight into the woods.”
“I was thinking and wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going.”
“You don’t know these woods, Roarke.” Her expression held a mix of concern and gentle condemnation. “What if you got lost?”
He smiled. “I’m a Marine. It’s hard as hell to get me lost.”
“What are you thinking? I mean, is there anything I can do?”
He tucked hair behind both her ears. “What makes you think you need to do anything?”
“Roarke, maybe this isn’t the time or place for this conversation, but ... here goes. You matter to me. I don’t hop into bed and live with men just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I wouldn’t be with you here now if I didn’t care. That’s why I worried about you.”
Checkmate. She laid it out for him, and yet hadn’t he thought the same thing a moment ago? “Thank you for caring.”
“You’re not used to that, are you?”
“What?”
“People caring about you.”
He shrugged. “My mother ... loved me.”
“It was hard growing up with a mother that had mental issues?”
“Yeah, it was. I couldn’t rely on anything steady. I guess when they say kids need a foundation and something they can count on ... hell, it’s a wonder I didn’t turn out severely screwed up, isn’t it?”
Her grin teased him. “You aren’t?”
He kissed her nose. “My father might even love me a little, but he’s too self-absorbed most of the time. Hell, I’ve been too self-absorbed most of the time. Why would anyone care for a guy who can’t give anything back? My Marine buddies would die for me. That’s a type of caring. But I’m not so sure I have anything to give a woman.”
When he drew her into his body to protect her from icy wind gusts, her gaze melted into his, warm longing. “I hate you, Roarke O’Bannion.”
He tucked her closer. “Oh? Now that’s an interesting response to my statement.”
“I know. But it’s true. You’re so tough, and you’re so ...” She swallowed hard. “Tender.” She blushed. “You’re not the type of man a woman can walk away from so easily.”
He frowned, half afraid he knew what she’d say and already hating it. “You planning on walking away from me?”
“No. I—”
He kissed her, effectively smothering any excuse she might have. He drowned in her taste, wanting and needing with a desperation he couldn’t recall feeling before. She was sweetness and light, sin and safety. His tongue dipped inside to take her mouth, and she immediately clung to him with a soft moan. His body trembled, swamped by feelings too numerous to identify all at once. Heat, delicious heat. Her softness drove him crazy, and he cupped her butt and squeezed, trying to draw her within himself. She was the nourishment he needed beyond all else. Her gloved hands plunged into his hair, and she kissed him enthusiastically. When he pulled back from the kiss, Melissa’s cheeks flushed.
“God, Roarke. You’re a potent drug.”
He laughed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
They went silent, and the wind around them whispered and whistled again. The tune sounded mournful to Roarke. He wondered when he’d become so damned fanciful.
“I know this whole thing with the investigation and your mother ... it has to wear on your mind,” she said after a moment.
“I wish I could say it doesn’t.”
“You could say that. If it’ll help.”
A genuine laugh arose from his depths. “Okay.”
Her small gloved hands slipped upward over his chest. “If you want to talk ...”
“Yeah, I do.” Her eyes widened, and he understood why. Big bad Marines didn’t reveal feelings, especially the more gooey kind. With Melissa he could open as much as he wanted. He kissed her f
orehead. “Sue me but I think I could tell you anything.”
Her eyes widened. “You can. You can always be honest with me.”
“I came out here to clear my head. I don’t see how the hell this investigation will help me discover what happened to my mother. But if it can, I’ll take it. I’ve spent months trying to track down what happened to her. When I first got out of the Marines, I tried everything I could think of to find her. I haven’t. I haven’t made a fuckin’ dent.” He drew in a harsh breath.
She cupped his face, her leather gloves cold against his cheeks. “You’ve done everything you can. You know that.”
“Have I? How many months have I wasted thinking the way I have, that she was just nuts?” A revelation overtook him, and he hated it. “I never wanted to be like my father, but I am. I’m just like him.”
She frowned, and this time it held the look of a woman ready to do battle. “No. Unlike your father, you’re learning from your mistakes with relationships. You’re accepting there’s something out there you can’t explain away. You’re learning and growing, just like I am. That makes us different from our parents, Roarke.”
She drew him down for a kiss. He sank into her, and for those moments forgot everything that had come before. Melissa held his heart in her hands, and he knew in that second that she could crush the life out of it. He feared not finding his mother, but he feared Melissa walking away from him as much. The realization, coming now while they stood in this place, made him tremble in reaction. He took over the kiss, drawing her into his arms and tasting her deeply. He ached to know her, to take her back to the condo and strip away her defenses. He wanted her writhing under him, surrendering until he knew she was his. His cock hardened and his body sensitized from head to toe. She groaned softly as he took the kiss deeper and harder. Her tongue moved against his, teasing and flirting. He cupped her butt, not giving a damn where they were or if anyone would see them. Her hips arched against him. Yeah, he would take her back to the condo and they could finish this spiraling desire. When they drew back, he kept his arms around her waist.
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