The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

by Nina Bruhns

  Ry groped her behind.

  “What are you doing now?” she asked.

  “I’m checking for broken bones.”

  Pleasure shot through her and a heavy thrum began inside her. Definitely nothing broken there. Moaning, she arched against him in another long grind that had them both gasping for air.

  A police siren whined in the distance.

  “Dammit,” Ry yelled.

  “They could be coming here,” she said, her head falling to rest on his shoulder.

  “Yeah,” he said, breathless. “We probably shouldn’t go any further right now…wouldn’t want the police to arrest us for indecency when they arrive.”

  “You’re right,” Giselle said, making an effort to quell her quickened breath.

  Unwinding her legs from around him, she placed her feet on the ground. She turned in his arms and leaned back against him with a sigh.

  “When we get back to the house, I am going to make love to you all night,” he said harshly.

  Giselle laughed.

  “What?” he said, breath still chugging in and out. “I want to make sure you’re really okay.”

  “How did you find me?” she asked as her breathing returned to normal.

  “Edward,” Ry said between nips at the side of her neck.

  “Edward? How did he know where I was?”

  “He saw the goons taking you out of the castle and followed you. When he saw where they’d taken you, he couldn’t get a hold of me so he contacted Mama. She called me.”

  Giselle laughed. “Then I’m going to have to thank Edward since he braved your mother and all.”

  “You have no idea.” One of Ry’s hands moved up to cup a breast gently as he sucked on her earlobe.

  “Mama and Kopeleski said they were sorry they abandoned you at the party, by the way,” he murmured into her ear.

  “Uh-huh. Where were they when I was being abducted by Kopeleski’s buddy, the vampire?”

  “I’m not quite sure. My mother said something about the bathroom—”

  “Say no more. I know too much about the bathroom already.”

  “What?”

  “Trust me. You don’t want to know. WTMI.” At his questioning expression, she explained, “Way too much information.”

  For a few minutes they just stood silently and contemplated the stars. Giselle couldn’t remain quiet for long.

  “I can’t believe it. What a coincidence that Edward was there to see what had happened. And that he had a car to follow them? Amazing.”

  “Yeah,” Ry said in a dry tone.

  “What’s that tone supposed to mean?”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”

  Ry hugged her more closely. A comfortable silence enveloped them.

  When Giselle thought back over the night’s events, it all seemed impossible. Suddenly, a thought occurred and she chuckled.

  “What?” Ry gave her a little shake.

  Turning to face him, she reached up and placed a palm against his cheek. “I can’t believe you threw rocks at them.”

  “Hey, it worked, didn’t it? I took out Marissa at just the right time, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, but rocks? I thought all you Southern boys had guns.”

  “We do, but unfortunately I left my gun rack at home along with my pickup and my hunting dogs,” Ry said.

  “You don’t have a pickup or hunting dogs.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, I see. Sorry about the stereotype.”

  “Under the circumstances, I’ll forgive you. But at the rate you get in trouble, I’ll have to think about getting a handgun now that we’re together. I should have gotten one when I became a P.I. but I haven’t wanted to touch one since I was in the service.”

  What did that mean? What had happened to Ry? Why didn’t he want to touch a gun? Hey, wait a minute. Who cared about guns? What did he say about them being together? It sounded suspiciously like Ry had been contemplating a future together. Hmmmm. Nice.

  The Scooby theme started to play, interrupting their conversation. It sounded a bit muffled but still detectable.

  “My phone,” Giselle cried, opening the door to Ry’s Jeep. She saw the cell lying on the passenger side seat. She snatched it up and snapped it open.

  “Hunter!” Willie barked.

  Crap. What was she going to tell him about the article? “Hi, boss. You’re up late? Or maybe you’re up early. Are you a night person or a morning person?” She tried to sound upbeat and distracting. But the greeting sounded pathetic and desperate even to her ears. Double crap.

  “Are you okay? I could feel that you were in some kind of danger.”

  Omigod. Willie had been concerned about her. Here she’d thought his heart was as hard as a walnut, but instead it was as soft as a marshmallow. Awwww. Giselle’s eyes teared and swam.

  “I heard that.”

  “What?” she choked out.

  “You thought something nice about me. Don’t do that. I was worried, that’s all!” he shouted.

  He was so sweet. He was a mushy, sweet, marshmallow man. The tears slipped out of her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

  “I was worried you wouldn’t be able to finish the article.”

  He wasn’t sweet at all. He was a hard, sour walnut of a man. She dashed the tears away. Bastard. If she had an article she’d roll it up and shove it right up his—

  “I heard that.” He sounded almost happy about it.

  “What?”

  “Just get the article in on time or you’re out.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’ll have it.”

  “And, Hunter.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m glad you weren’t hurt.” The softly spoken words were almost inaudible.

  Awwww.

  “Thanks.” Giselle gulped down the tears choking her throat.

  “And I don’t have a foot fetish. Got that?”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Willie clicked off. She could almost hear the phone slamming into the cradle in his office a thousand miles away.

  Giselle flipped her cell phone closed and turned to Ry. “Why didn’t I just tell him I can’t do it? I’m not gonna make the deadline. I’ve failed.”

  Sighing, she leaned forward to cuddle against Ry’s chest. “It’s been an exciting weekend with me almost getting killed by pretend Satanists who were really anarchists, but I don’t think Willie is going to care. I didn’t get my ghost. I can’t write the article he wants. Tomorrow morning I’m going to have to call him and tell him there’s no ghost and he’s going to fire me.”

  Giselle wrapped her arms around Ry’s waist. “The good news is that I might as well move to Savannah to get a new job. It shouldn’t be too hard to get a job here. I have a lot of talents. I’m pretty good at investigating. I uncovered a terrorist plot, didn’t I?” She slapped him playfully on the arm. “Hey, maybe I should get a P.I. license myself. We could be partners.”

  “Oh, Lord no,” he said with a shudder.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” He dropped a soothing kiss on the tip of her nose. “I just meant that after we’re finished with the police we should go get you a ghost.”

  * * *

  Getting finished with the police turned out to be easier said than done. There had been questions upon questions, by first this police agency, and then another. The first had been the city’s, and the second the Feds. Or was the first the Feds. Oh, well, it didn’t matter. The same questions had been asked numerous times. Finally, Ry pleaded fatigue. With Ry promising to return the next day to give more statements, the police let them go.

  Ry backed his Jeep into a parking place on Bull Street and got out. Giselle followed and soon found herself approaching the antique store. Hope surged. How could she have forgotten? The antique store ghost. The monitoring equipment. Perhaps the police hadn’t confiscated the videotape.

  They reached the door and hope died. The shop was closed o
n Mondays. There went her last hope of a ghost.

  Wiping her forehead, Giselle put on her sunglasses to guard against the afternoon sun.

  Ry peered intently through the window into the depths of the store as if he could will it to open its doors. “Do you have a telephone number for the owner?”

  “Just the shop number,” she said, and he frowned. “It’s all right,” she said with a small and probably unconvincing smile. “It was sweet of you to think of this, but finding a ghost in this shop was a long shot anyway.”

  How would they find a ghost in the daytime? Didn’t all ghosts come out at night? Ry seemed confident. Giselle had no choice but to tag along after him. It was make or break time. It was Monday afternoon at 2:15 p.m., and if Giselle didn’t find a ghost now, it wouldn’t do her any good to find one later.

  * * *

  Ry turned on Oglethorpe and Giselle trotted behind.

  “How are we… What are we doing?”

  “You’ll see.” Ry stopped in front of a huge house. Actually, the house qualified as a mansion. Built in a regency style with a curved portico and supporting Doric columns, the house had a stucco exterior with a faint ochre tint. It was a beautiful lady of a house, but the lady needed a facelift. The house had obviously been closed up long ago from the look of the rotting wood that barricaded the windows. Giselle noticed the sign warning away trespassers. Then she saw the number of the house above its door.

  “This is the haunted house Lester told us about. The one you’re supposed to go to at midnight,” Giselle groused.

  “This is the one.” Ry nodded, staring up at the front façade of the building.

  “But you pooh-poohed it. You said it wasn’t true even when Ghost Guy confirmed it.”

  “I know. Just come with me.” He took her arm and tugged her up the six marble stairs to the porch and stood in front of the carved wood door. A tarnished brass door knocker in the shape of a lion’s head with a large ball as its knocking mechanism still hung on top of the peeling green paint.

  “I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’ll just start,” Ry said in a low serious tone. “I noticed that I was different when I was six, but my mother likes to brag that I exhibited psychic abilities for the first time when I was three.”

  Psychic, what? When Giselle would have spoken, Ry stopped her.

  “Just listen.”

  Giselle closed her mouth.

  “It wasn’t very long after my eighth birthday when my mother made me a regular part of her show. Although my mother and her clients were very impressed with my talents, other children weren’t so kind. I was either a prodigy or a freak depending on the company I was in, and I didn’t like either.”

  He paused for a few thoughtful moments then continued. “A few years ago, I decided to put my, er, abilities away. I stored them away as if I had put them in a safe, locked the door and threw the combination in a drawer. I ignored the safe. But then you came to town and now I’m going to try to open up the safe. It might be a little rusty. I might be a little rusty. But bear with me.”

  Giselle just nodded. She couldn’t completely take in what he’d said. Ry turned back to face the door. He stared at it without speaking. A few silent seconds stretched to a minute and then two.

  “Should I do anything?” Giselle started.

  “Shhhh,” Ry said.

  More silence.

  “If—”

  “Shhh. I’m trying to concentrate.”

  “But I thought we had to come here at midnight.”

  “Some people might. I don’t. Now just be quiet.”

  “Okay. Okay. No need to get testy.”

  After a few more hours of silence, only five minutes in real time, Ry reached into his pocket and drew out an object. Giselle saw a piece of chalk. He bent and drew a chalk circle around himself and Giselle.

  “What?”

  Ry looked up at her and placed is fingers to his lips. “Shhhhh.” Then he stood, took the ball from the lion’s mouth and rapped three times on the door. The sound of each knock could be heard echoing through the empty building.

  Giselle waited, her heart fluttering with nervous anticipation. She wiped her, suddenly sweaty, palms on the sides of her legs. If the door opened, a ghost would be on the other side. What would she do when she saw one? Would she scream? She hoped not. She didn’t want to embarrass Ry. No, she wouldn’t scream. She prided herself on being a professional ghosthunter after all. Steeling herself, she waited for the door to open.

  Nothing.

  “It’s not wor—” Giselle started, and found herself interrupted by the sound of footsteps inside. A rush of adrenaline sped her heart to breakneck pace. The steps stopped at the door. She heard the lock on the door turn. Then the door inched open, with a loud creak, to reveal the dark cavernous interior of the building and a shadowed figure.

  “Ry, ma boy,” Giselle heard. “’Bout time ya came to see Ol’ Edward again.”

  “Edward?” Giselle heard her own voice as if it came from a distance.

  Edward came forward into the light. He smiled and his gold teeth gleamed.

  “Ah, Miss Giselle. I’s got a powerful relief those bad men didna do ya no harm. Come in. Come in,” he said, pulling the door wider to allow them entry.

  Ry ushered Giselle through the door and Edward closed it behind them. The interior of the house looked to be in surprisingly good condition with many of the original features. As they followed Edward from the hall into the parlor, Giselle could see that the heart of pine floors were intact. So was the walnut mantle over the fireplace, the crown moldings and the ceiling medallions. However, every surface in the building appeared to be covered with dust or cobwebs or both. The place had obviously not been inhabited for years.

  Giselle looked on in confusion. Had Ry called Edward to meet them there? She liked the friendly old man, especially since he had saved her life. And she definitely owed him a thank you. But something was strange. Perhaps the lack of sleep had gotten to her.

  “What are you doing here, Edward?” Giselle couldn’t help but ask.

  Edward chuckled. “Why, miss, I’s been opening the door to this here house since the Colson family took me on as their butler.”

  “How many years ago was that, Edward?” Ry asked with a wry smile in Giselle’s direction.

  “I don rightly know.” Edward scratched his chin thoughtfully. “But seems like it was right about tha’ time ma sista had her firs chile. That woulda been eighteen seventy-three.”

  Giselle couldn’t believe her ears. Did he say? Na. “Oh, you mean nineteen seventy-three?”

  “Na, miss, it was eighteen seventy-three, I reckon.”

  Giselle’s jaw dropped. Literally. She saw Ry try to hide a smirk. Good. If he didn’t hide it well, she’d smack it off his face. He should be ashamed, trying to put something over on her like this. But worse than that, he had convinced Edward to pretend to be a ghost. The nerve.

  Sure, Giselle wanted to keep her job, but she wouldn’t pass off a fake to do it. Anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to play along. See how far the two of them would go.

  “Oh, right. Eighteen seventy-three. That is a long time. Why do you stay?”

  “Oh, I’s had many a chance ta move on. But I likes it here in Savannah. Why should I go any?” Then Edward slapped his forehead like he’d just remembered something. “I bet y’all didna come to see Ol’ Edward at all. I betcha I knows what y’all want to see.”

  Maybe she’d find a ghost here after all. Maybe Ry meant for Edward to show them the ghost.

  “You do?” she asked.

  “’Zactly so,” Edward said. “What y’all want is over here.” Edward ambled across the room to the corner. Giselle saw a large cardboard box there. She noticed something else too. Something odd. She saw no disturbance in the dust coating the floorboards Edward had walked across.

  Ry followed Edward to the box. Giselle saw that Ry’s booted feet made distinct marks.

  Ry looked down into the box. �
�Oh, no.”

  “What is it?” Giselle hurried over and looked down into the box. Inside were three tiny puppies of indistinct breed. They were fast asleep and lying curled head to tail on a blanket. “They are so cute.” As Giselle spoke, one of the puppies—a cutie pie with black and white spots and long fluffy hair—opened its eyes a crack, and then wider. It began barking, mewling really. Giselle just had to pick him up. The puppy’s enormous eyes were tinged with trust and adoration. A small pink tongue flicked out to kiss her fingertips.

  “Awwww. He likes me,” she said, looking up. Edward grinned at her.

  Giselle remembered that he’d wanted her to adopt one of his puppies all along. Well, she wasn’t about to be manipulated by someone pretending to be a ghost.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting the puppy at him. “You hold him.” She pushed the puppy into his chest. She should have encountered the firmness of a body, but she didn’t. The smile fell off Edward’s face and he looked sad and abashed.

  “I can’t, miss. That’s why I be needin’ someone ta adopt these poor mites. I can never give ’em what they be needin’.”

  Stunned to silence, an unusual happening, she gripped the puppy tightly and brought it back to her own arms. The pup nuzzled up her chest and into the crook of her neck.

  “But…but…I thought you sold gold teeth,” she said.

  “Heavens no, chile. I jes likes ta wear ’em.”

  Giselle had no idea how that worked. Probably the same way he wore clothes. She’d have to ask Ry later.

  “And I likes ta see other peoples wear ’em so I goes to tha shop.”

  She shook her head. Giselle couldn’t seem to clear her confused brain and think. “But you told me you didn’t know any ghosts.”

  “I don,” Edward replied with a confused expression.

  Leaning toward her, Ry whispered, “He doesn’t really understand what he is.”

  “I see,” she said. Giselle turned to Ry and he regarded her with a gravely serious expression. Unspoken words passed between them. Giselle turned back to Edward. “How long have you known Ry, Edward?”