She took an audible breath. "And then?"
"Then you'd sigh and tilt your head back. Our eyes would meet, long enough for you to let me know we wanted the same thing, then your lips would part, openly inviting me to taste."
"And would you?"
He laughed. "Of course. Any conscience I had fled the moment you leaned into me."
"So, what you're saying is, if you weren't electrified, we'd be having sex about now."
The tone of her voice should have warned him to answer carefully but he charged ahead anyway. "Now might be a bit premature. I'd say more like fifteen minutes from—" A pillow hit him in the face, cutting off his sentence. Without hesitation, he hurled it right back at her. "Just like a woman," he said with a laugh, "demanding the truth then getting mad when she hears it."
That got him a double retaliation and suddenly they were immersed in an old-fashioned pillow fight, complete with nonsensical name-calling and fits of laughter.
The silliness came to an abrupt end when her hand contacted his arm and she received a shock that made her yelp.
"Oh, my God, are you okay?" he asked, totally serious.
She wiggled her fingers. "Fine. I think I was right about the charge diminishing. That was stronger than a static electric spark but it was nowhere near what it felt like when you knocked me across the room or when we almost, you know." As they moved back to their separate beds, Kelly sensed his uneasiness. "You're not guilty, Jack. I baited you."
"I know," he said with a smile in his voice. "I saw it coming and couldn't resist walking right into it."
"Your seduction scene was actually quite good. Just a little too short. Women today want to read every minute detail of the foreplay. If you can't get a job reporting, you might consider writing romance novels." His easy laugh gave her a nice feeling. "Thanks for the pillow fight. It was more fun than I've had in a long while."
"Maybe that's why I'm here—to remind you how to laugh."
Kelly took a slow breath and turned onto her side. Until that moment she had not considered that possibility. She had assumed he was sent to her so she could help him. Could it be mutual? Could he also be here to help her with something bigger than a plot idea?
A cool draft of air made her shiver, seeming to confirm that thought. She let her imagination dance through some possible ways he could help her. Though a romantic interlude would not be unwelcome, her imagination didn't linger there. Rather, it suggested something more meaningful was about to happen.
The big question was, would Jack be her hero or would he turn out to be another villain?
* * *
"Are you sure you've got it? I mean, I can't stress enough how important it is not to press the wrong—"
"I understood the first three times you explained it," Jack said testily. "I didn't travel here from the stone age."
"Okay. Sorry. I just—" His warning glare cut her off and she headed for the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can." He waved a hand at her but his attention was on the computer monitor.
After staying up half the night, it was late morning by the time they had finally gotten moving. Between the hour and how uncomfortable Jack was, they decided to put off the Atlanta research trip another day. Kelly had a couple phone calls to make, laundry to do and she needed to buy more calamine for Jack.
While she was gone he wanted to check out the encyclopedia program she'd mentioned to catch up on the events of the past fifty-one years. Kelly had been concerned he might damage the circuitry with his electrical charge but he solved that by using a wooden pencil with a rubber eraser to press the keys.
For the sake of efficiency, she drove to the laundromat in Buford first and made her calls from the pay phone there while the washers were running.
Her first calls were to Darren and Connie to let them know her brain had been reactivated and gave them each a brief summary of the story line. As she had hoped, Connie loved the idea of adding a paranormal twist.
"Will called me again," Connie said after their business was concluded.
"Aw, geez. Darren said he called him too. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. At least he's always very polite. I told him the same thing as the other times: 'I don't know where she is. I have to wait for her to call me.' I've got to tell you, Kelly, he really sounds pitiful. Are you absolutely sure—"
"Hush your mouth! Don't you dare say it. You know as well as I do that it's just an act. If I went back to him, he'd be bored with me again in a week. I believe you were the one who first explained that to me."
"You're right, of course. But he really is good, isn't he?"
"He's one of the best, Connie, a genuine master at manipulating women's emotions."
Her final call was to her mother and it proceeded along the usual lines. They compared the weather between Pennsylvania and Georgia and touched on the latest neighborhood gossip. Her mother complained about how much television her father watched then asked her if she'd done anything interesting in the last week. That was her mom's subtle way of asking if she'd had a date with a man. This time, Kelly surprised her.
"As a matter of fact, I met the most fascinating man yesterday. He just showed up at my cabin, without a stitch of clothing. He claimed that he'd been electrically transported to me from 1965."
"You know, Kelly, it's not healthy for you to spend so much time making up romantic nonsense. I swear, Prince Charming could walk right up to you and all you'd do is write a story about him. Which reminds me, Will called again yesterday. He truly sounds sorry."
"I'm sure he does. Sincere is one of his best routines."
"I think you should at least listen to what he has to say."
Kelly knew better than to waste her breath. Her mother had always been a sucker for Will's charm. "I'll think about it," she responded halfheartedly.
"And think about this too. I never told you but once, when you were a teenager, I found out that your father had been with another woman."
"What?"
"I'm only telling you this now so you'll realize that it happens to the best of them. They start feeling like time's passing them by and the grass looks greener on the other side of the fence. Men can't fight temptation as well as women do. It's our job to understand and forgive them."
"Our job?" Kelly bit her thumb not to continue with what she was thinking. She and her mother were never going to see eye to eye on what a woman's job was supposed to be. She still considered Kelly's writing to be a "nice hobby". She had listened to her mother's advice about remaining a virgin until marriage and look what that had gotten her. "I've got to run, Mom. Thanks for sharing." Like I really needed to know that my father was just like other men.
It occurred to her that she should be having some sort of strong reaction to what her mother had revealed but it wasn't there. In truth, she didn't even feel shocked. Her parents had always had a tug-of-war relationship as far as she could tell. Her mother was always tugging and her father was always pulling away. Their constant bickering was one of the reasons she had kept quiet with Will as long as she had. She simply hadn't wanted to end up arguing all the time like her parents.
While the clothes were in the dryer, she went into the adjacent convenience store and bought some more calamine lotion and baking soda but they didn't have any of her books. Thus, instead of going straight home, she stopped in the original O'Neill's drugstore in Charming.
A late middle-aged man greeted her from behind the counter. "It's good to see you, Mizz Kirkwood."
She glanced at the name tag on his white lab coat. "Hello, Mr. Scanlon. Anything new going on in town?"
"Nope. But there was a man askin' about you a little while ago."
She set two of her books down beside the cash register. "A man? Did he leave his name?"
"Nope. Looked like a salesman, wearin' a suit and tie in this heat. Had a salesman's smile too. Don't y'all get these books for free?" he asked as he rang up her purchase.
"I get a few but I promised someone..." She d
idn't really think an explanation was necessary. "About this man. What did he look like?"
He rubbed his chin. "Taller than me. Light brown hair, slicked back real neat—"
"What did you tell him?" she asked abruptly.
"Not much. Only that I'd be happy to pass on a message if you happened to come in. I figured if you wanted folks to know where you were, you'd have told them yourself."
Kelly exhaled with relief. "Thank you. I appreciate that." She knew without a doubt that the salesman had been Will and it took little analysis to figure out that her mother had probably been his informant, at least as far as directing him to Charming. Kelly was annoyed but not all that surprised after their last phone call. Hopefully, anyone else Will approached about her exact whereabouts would be as considerate as Mr. Scanlon.
Before she left, she decided to find out how far his tight-lipped policy went. "I heard that this store was Reid O'Neill's first."
"Yesirree. And we're all mighty proud of that fact here in Charmin'."
"As you should be. What he's accomplished is very impressive. I heard he still lives nearby."
The man bobbed his head several times. "Y'all cain't miss his house. It's the biggest one on Orchard Lane. Every Fourth o' July he invites the whole town over there for fireworks. Y'all shoulda come up a little earlier this summer. Everyone said it was the best yet."
Kelly was sorry she missed such a golden opportunity. She probably could have interviewed everyone who remembered anything in one day.
On her way out of town, she couldn't resist making a short detour down Orchard Lane. Jack had made her promise not to do any investigating on her own but she had had her fingers crossed behind her back. After all, if an opportunity to learn something important fell at her feet, she could hardly ignore it.
Mr. Scanlon was right. One couldn't possibly miss Reid O'Neill's house. It was a slightly smaller version of Gone With the Wind's Tara, surrounded by at least two acres of meticulously landscaped lawn, where most of the other homes along the country lane looked like part of a middle-income tract development.
She remembered Mrs. Lawson's comment about O'Neill fixing up the house a lot and wondered if he had managed to do so with money he came into upon his wife's demise.
She stopped the Camaro in front of the estate and let her gaze move slowly over the entire property. It was a beautiful view, a picture-perfect setting for a historical romance. Few people would see it as she did—a backdrop for a suspenseful story about a brutal murder.
Had Ginger O'Neill screamed that night? That was what it said in the newspaper. Someone had heard her screaming and anonymously called the police, who conveniently arrived in the precise amount of time it supposedly took Jack Templeton to beat, rape and strangle her. Looking at the distance to the nearest house, Kelly decided that Ginger must have had a powerful set of lungs. And considering the size Charming was in 1965, either the police were very slow or Jack was incredibly fast.
Also, since it was a very small town, why didn't the person who called about the scream try to help or at least check it out firsthand?
As she sat there, trying to recreate the scene in her mind, an old van pulled into the O'Neill driveway and stopped. A thin, mocha-skinned woman with steel-gray hair got out and walked to Kelly's car. The neat, white uniform and work shoes suggested several possible lines of work.
"May I help you?" she asked Kelly in a rather territorial tone of voice.
Kelly decided this qualified as an opportunity being dropped at her feet and got out of her car with a friendly smile. "Hi. I'm Kelly Kirkwood. I'm staying in a cabin near here while I'm working on a new book. I'm an author."
"Yes, Ah heard," the woman replied with no return smile.
On a hunch, Kelly asked, "Do you live here?"
"Ah'm Mr. O'Neill's housekeeper."
"Oh, that's great. You see, I've been hearing about what an enterprising man Reid O'Neill has been and it got me thinking that he might be a good subject for a biography, you know, like the Walmart man."
The woman's black eyes narrowed. "Ah heard you wrote mysteries and love stories."
"I do, usually. But I've been wanting to do something different. I would need to speak to Mr. O'Neill before I decide. Is he at home?"
"No. He don't come home 'til five o'clock. Not five minutes before. Not five minutes after. If y'all have a card, Ah'll pass it on to him."
Kelly hadn't used business cards for years. She took out her notepad and pen and wrote her name and cell phone on it. "That's my cell number but the service is really terrible where I'm staying. Please tell Mr. O'Neill that Mr. Scanlon has agreed to take messages for me at the drugstore." She added that information below her name. "I'd be happy to make myself available anytime Mr. O'Neill would be able to meet with me." She wrote the phrase appointment to discuss possible biography on the paper and handed it to the housekeeper. "Thank you. I really appreciate this, Miss..."
The housekeeper put the paper in her uniform skirt pocket. "Folks just call me Hannah."
Kelly wondered if Hannah always looked so stern. "Have you worked for Mr. O'Neill a long time?"
"Goin' on fifty-two years."
Kelly's mental red flag flew up its pole. The fact that Hannah's employment began so close to when Ginger's murder occurred could have been just another coincidence but it was one worth keeping in mind. "Wow. That is a long time. Perhaps I could ask you some questions about your employer... for the book. I'm sure you must have some fascinating anecdotes about him and the people of Charming."
Hannah's deadpan expression altered for the first time. A distinct hint of fear flickered in her eyes and she lost her stilted speech. "Ah don' know nothin' 'bout nothin'. Ah gotta git the groceries put away now. Ah'll give your note to Mr. O'Neill." Seconds later, she was driving the van up the brick-paved driveway to the house.
"We got a winner," Kelly muttered as she got back into the Camaro. If Hannah wasn't a woman hiding a big secret, she should give up writing suspense.
Chapter 7
Though Jack heard Kelly's car pull up, he was too entranced by the information on the computer monitor to get up to greet her. Only when there was a knock on the screen door did he realize it wasn't her. Reluctantly, he left the computer and went to the door.
"Who the hell are you?" a slick-looking man demanded as he scanned Jack's bare chest.
"You first," Jack countered.
"The name's Kirkwood and my wife is supposed to be here. Alone."
Jack focused on the word "wife". Had Kelly lied to him about being divorced? Perhaps she had more in common with Ginger than physical attributes after all. "If you're referring to Kelly, I understood she was divorced."
Kirkwood waved a hand that sported several ounces of gold in the form of a pinky ring and watch. "A misunderstanding that will be corrected in a few days. In fact, that's why I'm here—to let her know that I've already made the arrangements for our remarriage."
Before Jack could voice a response to that rather surprising statement, Kirkwood opened the screen door and extended his hand for a shake. Jack had to quickly step back to avoid making contact with him. He had already decided he didn't like this guy but he didn't think he should electrocute him until he found out which one of the Kirkwoods was telling the truth.
Kelly's ex-husband withdrew his hand and stepped inside the cabin, causing Jack to retreat farther. He obviously got the impression Jack was afraid of him and his mouth twisted into a sneer. "I believe it's your turn now. What the hell are you doing here with my wife?"
* * *
Kelly drove back to the cabin in a bubble of enthusiasm. She couldn't wait to delve further into the mystery of who killed Ginger O'Neill and why. She was also anxious to ask Jack if he knew Hannah.
Her bubble quickly burst, however, as she neared the cabin and saw a silver luxury sedan parked in front.
Will had found her.
Her first thought was to drive off and stay away until boredom sent him back to Atl
anta. Knowing what a sacrifice it must have been for him to abandon his office on a Monday, she figured he wouldn't hang around more than a couple hours.
Her second thought wiped out the first. Will wouldn't be bored. He had Jack to visit with! Her mind racing, she quickly got out of the car. How had Jack explained his presence? It didn't matter. Regardless of what he said, Will would jump to only one conclusion—that Jack and she were lovers. In all their years of marriage, she'd never given him a single cause to be jealous of her and now that they were divorced, her relationships were none of his business. Yet, she had no doubt how he would react if he thought she was having an affair with another man.
Her assumption seemed accurate as she entered the cabin and saw the tense body language of the two men. The air was disgustingly thick with testosterone.
Will's gray eyes sparkled with love as he walked toward her with arms outstretched. "Kelly, honey, you look radiant."
She swiftly sidestepped to avoid the embrace he was determined to give her. "What are you doing here, Will?"
He added a touch of hurt feelings to his adoring expression. "I was worried about you, baby. You seemed so down the last time I saw you. I wanted to make sure you didn't, you know, do anything drastic."
"Drastic? Like what, suicide? Or do you mean drastic like forgetting that you exist? Well, either way, you're too late, Will. As you can see, I'm alive and have a new man in my life. And unlike you, he does a hell of a lot more than just sleep in the same bed with me!"
She was rewarded for her uncharacteristic criticism by seeing Will's neck turn a deep shade of scarlet. As the color rose into his fair cheeks, she finished him off. "For the last time, I am not interested in a reconciliation and if you continue to harass me or anyone I know, I will have Bruce file a restraining order against you."
"Oh sure, throw ol' Brucie at me again. How long were the two of you screwing each other before you decided to screw me?"
Kelly raised her hand but rather than strike him, she pointed at the open door. "Get out."
"Ah, Kell—"
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