Once in the master bedroom, she changed into old jeans and a wrinkled SPCA T-shirt. Pru sniffed around familiarizing herself with such enthusiasm that Reggie could hear her snorting like a pig hunting truffles. She smiled and said, “Come on, you blood hound, we’re going to take a look at the kitchen.”
This time, she used the grand staircase. The progress they’d made with the renovations brought a smile to her face. The kitchen was a dream. Reggie wasn’t much of a cook, but she knew how best to outfit a kitchen and she’d never been afraid to ask the experts. Disappointed with the quality of tile delivered for the floor, she decided to have it sent back. She made a note to call the supplier. She glanced at her watch and decided to call tomorrow. She looked around for Pru, but the little dog was gone. She’d followed Reggie down the stairs. Doggie nails sliding across the slippery new floors weren’t a sound Reggie could ignore. But now Pru was nowhere to be found. Reggie began to feel panic in the pit of her stomach.
Calling out to Pru, Reggie moved from room to room. The workmen looked up at Reggie in surprise. No one had seen the little dog. She’d vanished. Reggie’s stomach churned, and she was afraid to imagine what could have happened to the little dog. Bennett House under construction wasn’t the best place for Pru . Given recent events, Reggie realized she’d been irresponsible and selfish by putting her in the middle of everything. With determination, she walked to the hallway that led to the library. If that evil thing had a hold of her baby, she vowed to destroy it or die trying.
She’d been prepared for the cold but had forgotten the oppressive odor. She gagged as she breathed the foul air, but she pressed on desperately. Both doors to the library stood ajar. That was new. With a dead weight crushing her chest, she walked into hell.
Pru lay on the floor, her legs twitching. Foam oozed from her mouth. Reggie ran to her and dropped to the floor. Everything but the little dog’s welfare drained from her mind. The doors slammed behind her with a tremendous bang. The sound made her jump but failed to distract her from her goal. Poor Pru was convulsing ever more violently. Reggie had to get her out. After Reggie gathered Pru in her arms, the little dog went limp. She wanted to scream and shake the dog when she remained unresponsive, but controlled the impulse. Panic would serve no purpose other than to give the advantage to her invisible enemy. A strange pounding reverberated in Reggie’s eardrums like corporeal evil demanding entrance.
Shivering with cold and shock, Reggie struggled to stand. It was no use. Pru was dead. It was hopeless. Overcome with savage despair, Reggie longed to sink to the damp and clammy floor and keen with grief. The thing with her in the room was powerful beyond their paltry imaginings. How pathetic she’d been to think she could survive it, let alone conquer it. Depression sucked at her will to fight. With Pru still held tightly in her arms, she started to sink back down to the floor in defeat.
No! A voice from somewhere deep inside her commanded and forced her to resist the temptation to give way. This was all a cruel, but clever illusion. There was always hope. That certainty was branded into Reggie’s character. She called upon an unknown reserve of energy locked within and struggled to break free from the depressive spiral. She willed life into Pru and pushed back at the entity with focused strength of will. Stumbling twice, she dragged her feet to the double doors. Prepared for more resistance, Reggie was surprised when they opened easily. As she carried poor Pru out, the doors slammed shut behind them, a last show of power. Reggie ignored it.
Once again, she could hear the natural sounds of human voices in the house and the otherworldly banging in her eardrums faded away. Reggie was aware only of Pru and her condition. The little dog stirred and started to come out of whatever spell had claimed her. Reggie sobbed with relief as she sat beside her on the floor outside the library hallway.
From somewhere in the house, there was a great crash, loud voices, and running footsteps. Weak, Reggie used the wall to help find her feet. There was silence. Another accident. My God, when would it stop? Pru regained consciousness but Reggie couldn’t leave her and she called out. “What’s going on?”
An apologetic voice said, “It’s okay. One of the ladders tipped over. It’s a mess, but no one was hurt.”
Reggie breathed a sigh of relief.
Her encounter in the library had sapped her strength, but she refused to succumb to exhaustion. Pru had recovered at last. Now Reggie’s rage drove her on. With determination, she walked through the garden, ignoring the rain.
“Constance, show yourself now!” A faint rumble of thunder punctuated her demand. Nature’s synchronicity gave her a jolt of confidence. Staring at the iron gate, she willed Constance to comply.
She felt an almost imperceptible change in the air and knew she could be heard.
“I know you’re there, Constance. No more games. Someone very dear to me almost died today. You have to help me!”
“You weakened it,” Constance whispered, but still she refused to appear. “Your strength during your little rescue mission today was a surprise, but you’re going to need more than that to vanquish what’s in that room.”
“Tell me what I have to do.”
“You’re not ready yet. First, I suggest you catch the petty thief who steals from this place every night. You don’t want lawmen here. They are acquainted with violence and would only feed that thing in there. You and Chase have to do this alone.” And the spirit was gone, the air changed.
Soaked to the skin, Reggie pulled together a string of cuss words as long as her right leg. She was still swearing when she walked back into the house and straight into Chase’s arms. While in conversation with Constance, she’d had no idea he’d arrived.
He smiled as he steadied her. “Whoa there, Crash, your vocabulary is impressive.”
His use of her nickname drained some of her anger, and she sighed. “I’m highly motivated.”
Chase nodded. “You always were an overachiever.”
She started to shiver, and he said, “Go upstairs and run a hot bath. We’ll have dinner when you’re warm again. I’ll start a fire.”
“What…”
He silenced her by putting a finger to her lips. “Get out of those wet clothes or I’ll do it myself.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he said, “And we both know how that’ll end.” With the same finger he’d pressed against her lips, he pointed up the stairs. “Go.”
Reggie took her time, not only because the warmth was heaven sent but also because she was terrified of what this night might bring. After getting so little sleep the night before and her experience with Pru, she knew she’d have no defenses. “I’m Belgium,” she muttered, “and look what happened to it in the First and Second World Wars.” Glancing down at Pru curled up on the fluffy bath mat, she said, “Don’t look at me that way. I’m operating without sleep or food. It’s the best I could do.” The ridiculousness of her conversation made her laugh. She’d coasted right past exhausted to punch-drunk.
Her punchy condition explained Reggie’s choice of apparel as she dressed in a terry cloth robe, enormous flannel pajamas, and fluffy slippers. The not-so-subtle message wouldn’t be lost on Chase. Tonight, she was no sex kitten. She pulled the elastic waistband of her voluminous pajama bottoms and let it snap back.
Satisfied, she smiled. “Ah, clothes to eat in. I’m starving.”
Her slippers made navigating the stairs very awkward and she giggled. Safely on the main floor, she followed her nose. He’d lit a fire in the living room and had set food on trays in front of it. She looked around for him, but the room was empty. Pru made for the food but stopped when Reggie gave her a warning look. Chase came into the room, his arms filled with pillows. He dropped them on the floor in front of the fire.
He took one all-encompassing look at her and slapped the heel of his hand on his forehead like he should have had a V8. “Flannel! So that’s Victoria’s secret.”
She shared his laughter.
He nodded at the pillows. “These will make eating on the floor nice a
nd comfy. Here…” After helping her to get settled, he turned the lights off and joined her in front of the fire.
Reggie bit into a drumstick, chewed with relish, and said, “I get it. This is the third act, seduction scene.” She looked at her slippers. “Damn, wardrobe got it all wrong, again.”
He laughed. “Don’t be so sure. I think you look adorable. Overkill though, the jammies could actually fit me.”
She looked at him with exaggerated innocence. “And have you enjoyed wearing women’s clothing since puberty?”
His laughter rang out, genuine and heartfelt. “Relax, Reggie, neither the wardrobe nor the humor was needed. I get the message. You’re dead on your feet. Trust me, when I take you to bed, you’ll need every ounce of strength you have. Tonight, you’re just not up to it.”
She didn’t look at him. Instead, she stuffed her mouth with pasta salad. Damn, but the man knew comfort food. She closed her eyes with ecstasy.
“Knock it off, Reggie. When you look like that, I want to change my mind and jump you after all.”
She swallowed and still said nothing. Silence filled the air. They could hear the house settling in for the night. Reggie loved the little sounds. This house deserved to be lived in. It cried out for it.
“Talk.” Chase’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
She shrugged. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said that to me.”
He ignored her quip and pressed her. “What happened today that drained you so completely?”
Reggie revisited her experience with Pru. As she spoke, Chase’s frown deepened.
He closed his eyes. “I’m not even going to bother berating you for going in that room alone. Let’s not, but say we did. Shall we?” He stoked Pru’s back. “I’d have done the same thing. Are you both okay?”
She nodded and filled him in on her conversation with Constance. “I think we have no choice but to follow her advice for the time being. We have to catch the thief.”
Chase looked around. “I feel like I’m being punk’d, but go on, Nancy Drew.”
“It’s raining pretty hard outside. I doubt the thief will venture out tonight. But tomorrow night, I want to set a trap for him. He takes the bait, we take him.”
“And this is Constance’s idea?” Chase was calm..
“Yes. Well, no, not exactly. The idea is hers, but the plan is mine. Will you help me?”
“Of course,” he said with resignation. “If I don’t, you’ll do it by yourself.”
“Good man. What’s for dessert?”
The next night, the weather cooperated up to a point. It didn’t rain, but what little sun they’d had all day hadn’t even come close to drying the sodden earth. Reggie loved the variety a New England change of season offered, but standing an inch deep in mud, behind a smallish pine tree, in autumn, was pushing it, even for her.
She couldn’t see Chase from her hiding place, but she knew he was there. They waited. Earlier, Chase left some tools out in hopes of tempting the thief. He’d rolled his eyes about the whole thing, but told Reggie he’d chosen the kind of easily carried materials that their thief seemed to find irresistible.
At first, when she’d crouched down behind the pine tree, she’d been startled by every shadow, every noise. After a couple of hours spent waiting on tenterhooks, her legs started to cramp. She was cursing silently and massaging her thigh in abject misery when she heard the noise.
Maybe she hadn’t wasted their time after all. The dark figure moved with surprisingly little stealth. He was short too, a fact Reggie noted with a smug smile. She could take him. In the darkness, it was difficult to see exactly what he’d picked up and slipped inside his jacket, but she could see Chase moving into perfect position to trap him. Earlier, Chase had tried to tell Reggie to stay hidden until he’d caught the guy, but that suggestion was not well met. In the end, they’d agreed. He’d come up from behind while Reggie approached from the front, cutting off the thief’s exit.
Waiting for Chase to make his move Reggie grew impatient. What’s wrong with him? Why isn’t he moving? Instead of following the plan, Chase spoke to the intruder. Furious at him, Reggie didn’t bother to listen to his words. She stood and ran toward them. She was less than eight feet away when the thief turned to flee. Without hesitation, Reggie checked him with her hip, and he went flying into the mud. He grunted loudly. Chase hauled him to his feet, and it was then that Reggie got her first good look at their criminal mastermind.
She wanted to laugh. He looked barely older than twelve, and she was being generous. She should have known. The thefts had been more of a nuisance than a threat. They were simply childish pranks. What the hell was Constance up to? She’d intimated that the thief was significant in some way. Feeling foolish, Reggie exchanged a look with Chase.
Her amusement died, and her blood ran cold when she saw the look on the kid’s face and the knife in his small but steady hand.
Chapter 11
Burning with fever, the kid looked right through her. These were not the eyes of a child. Chase didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the boy’s wrist and forced the knife from his hand. Reggie watched with concern when an emotion flickered in the thief’s eyes. He blinked at her as if seeing her for the first time and dropped to the ground in a dead faint.
Reggie crouched beside Chase as he checked the kid’s pulse.
“Bring your car around. We need to get him to a hospital. He’s burning up.”
She didn’t waste time with words. Running into the house for her keys, she spared a reassuring word for Pru. Somehow, understanding the weight of the situation, the little dog made not a peep. Chase carried the boy as if he weighed no more than a doll. He was so young he probably didn’t weigh much more.
Reggie drove while Chase watched over him in the back seat. Familiar with the roads, she got them to the hospital in excellent time. Chase carried him in, calling out for help as he moved.
The emergency room was busy, but the unconscious boy got immediate attention. Chase and Reggie waited impatiently for news from the doctor. In sync, their heads turned when the doctor came out.
“He’s conscious, and he’s going to be all right.” He smiled when they sighed. “He has a fever. Flu season seems to have started early this year. It’s making its way through the school. It’s intense, but remarkably short lived. He’ll feel better in a matter of hours.” His gaze shifted to other beds in the unit.
“What about his parents?” Reggie asked.
“I’ve called them. They didn’t even know his was out tonight…thought he was tucked safely in his bed. They’re going to want to talk to you, so if you don’t mind, please stick around.”
Chase said, “Can we see him?”
“I’d rather you wait until his parents get here.”
“We’ll wait. Thanks, Doctor.” Chase nodded.
“The nurse will let you know when they’re here.” He moved away. There were other patients to tend to.
“I’m glad he’s okay. The look on his face when he confronted me with the knife…” She shook her head. “I wish I could describe it. He had the deadest eyes I’ve ever seen. No question, he looked perfectly capable of stabbing me in that split second… but then he changed. It was like an alternate personality took over. In that moment, he transformed from potential, cold-blooded killer into scared, sick kid.”
“We need to talk with his parents. I don’t think we should bother the sheriff’s office with this just yet.”
She nodded her agreement.
It wasn’t long before a frantic man and woman rushed in asking about Todd, an eleven-year-old boy brought in earlier. The parents had arrived. A very busy nurse took a moment and showed them to their son’s bed.
About fifteen minutes later, the boy’s father came out and introduced himself to Chase and Reggie.
“I understand we have you two to thank for getting him here.” He put out his hand. “I’m John Marks.”
Chase took his hand and introduced Reggi
e. She didn’t waste time and immediately asked if she could see Todd. The man nodded and showed them to his son’s hospital bed.
His skin looked gray against the white sheets. Brown hair stuck up in every direction as his mother repeatedly ran a shaking hand over his head. He looked at Reggie and Chase without recognition. They exchanged a look.
John Marks made introductions. His wife, Tammy, smiled down at her son. “Todd, these are the people who brought you to the hospital tonight.”
The kid looked confused for a second, and then he looked away. A stain of red stood out on his cheeks as he blushed. Reggie could see that he’d remembered.
Quietly, Chase talked to his parents, explaining what their son had been up to. Reggie stood by Todd’s bed and said, “Tell me what you remember.”
He looked frightened for a moment and Reggie reassured him. “It’s okay, Todd. I’m not mad. I just want to know what you were doing up at Bennett House tonight.”
His father spoke, “Tell her son.”
In a tiny voice that underlined his tender age, Todd said. “It was Aidan and the guys.. They told me I had to go to the scary house and take something so I could hang with the gang.”
“What guys?” Reggie asked
“All the really cool guys in school hang out together. If you’re with them, you’re okay. Aidan said I could hang too if I passed the initiation.”
With a knowing look, Chase said, “And stealing something from Bennett House in the middle of the night was the initiation.”
“Yeah, a bunch of the guys have already done it. They told me I had to prove I had guts, prove I was a man.” He started to cry. “I don’t have guts, Mom. I’m just a kid. I was scared and gonna turn around, and I got sorta sick. I remember seeing you.”
Spirit [New Crescent 2] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 8