by Dawn Brown
Had he gone too fast? Hurt her? He held himself rigid, giving her a chance to adjust to the invasion, waiting for a sign he should continue. Not that he had to wait long.
She wriggled beneath him, legs wrapping around his waist, feet pressing against his ass to urge him on. And he was only too happy to comply.
He thrust slow and deep, reveling in the feel of her soft, damp skin against his, breath whispering against his neck. He pushed harder, faster, his control started to slip until he was lost in her.
She cried out, squeezed tight around him, pulling him over the edge with her.
Chapter Eleven
Declan woke slowly, gaze fixed on an unfamiliar ceiling. He started for a long moment, frowning as memory trickled over him. The shadow man’s appearance, the furious destruction that followed and then falling into bed wrapped in Carly’s soft, lithe body.
His frown deepened and he pushed up on his elbows, turning to the empty space on the bed next him. Where had she gone?
He rolled out of bed, dragged on his clothes from yesterday, then checked his phone on the night table. Just past nine-thirty. It was the latest he’d slept since he arrived.
Through the window, brilliant blue skies dotted with thready steel clouds stretched out over an indigo sea. Bad weather blowing in or out? Only time would tell. For now, sunshine spilled across the lawn. The wet grass shone as if encased in liquid gold. The deep blue waves shimmered. It was like a whole other world out there, beautiful and normal, without shadows and burned women.
The wind kicked up moaning through unseen cracks around the window, the sound ominous despite the sunshine outside.
He thought of those red eyes, looking into their fiery depths and knowing with absolute certainty that it wanted him. Not just the shadow, the house itself and something more, something darker.
He shuddered and pushed the thoughts away. He was making more out of it than there was. Besides, three days and he would be home. Back to his real life, Stonecliff and all the people a distant memory—even Carly. A faint pang stung his chest.
Though, maybe that was all she wanted to be. She’d been very clear on her feelings about marriage, not that he was leaning that way. Any commitment between them wasn’t a possibility. Still, he didn’t like that she slipped away before he woke up, as if he was her guilty mistake.
He stood and shoved on his shoes and made his way downstairs. Most of the glass had been cleared away, thought there were still shards glittering deep in the carpet fibers. He’d have to replace all those sconces. Coffee first.
Downstairs, he started past the study, but stopped. Carly sat at the desk, her equipment in various states of packed, while she studied something on the video camera’s screen.
“Good morning. Did you sleep at all?” he asked, leaning against the door frame between the study and hall.
She looked up and smiled, but the expression didn’t meet her eyes. Her gaze was clouded. Troubled. “I did, but I’m naturally an early riser.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, a sinking sensation gripping his insides. He slid his hands into his pockets and waited.
“Nothing’s wrong, but there’s something I want you to see.”
He held up a hand. “Let me get coffee first.” He frowned. The house was unusually quiet so late in the morning. “Where are Mrs. Voyle and Warlow?”
She shrugged. “I haven’t seen either of them.”
That was odd—especially no sign of Mrs. Voyle. Maybe she really hadn’t been well. Or whatever she’d seen had scared her so badly she wasn’t coming back.
He nodded in the kitchen’s direction. “Coffee?”
“Absolutely.” She stood and followed him down the hall. “I tidied up most of the mess from last night. I didn’t run the hoover, though. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Thanks. You didn’t have to, though.”
She shrugged. “I was restless this morning.”
He reached down and laced her fingers with his. “When I woke up and you were gone, I thought you’d sneaked out.”
She chuckled. “I wouldn’t have done that.”
“Any regrets?” Unease flickered inside him. He didn’t want her to be sorry.
She shook her head. “None. I wouldn’t have been with you if I thought I might regret it.”
“Good.”
He started coffee and they were both quiet, lost in their own thoughts, while they waited for it to brew.
“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
His anxiety amped up another notch. “Whatever it is you want me to see must be pretty bad.”
She shook her head. “Not bad, just…interesting. We weren’t alone last night. There was someone else besides the shadow man.”
“Great.” The coffee had finished brewing and he poured them each a cup. “How do you take it?”
“From an IV directly to my bloodstream would be nice, but in lieu of that, with cream.”
He snorted, did as she asked and handed her the cup. “Let’s get this over with.”
They returned to the study and she lifted the camera from where she’d left it on the desk. “Sit down and watch this footage. Tell me what you see.”
He shrugged and dropped into one of the two chairs opposite the desk. She sat in the one beside him, holding the camera so he could see the screen. Her light floral scent teased his senses. A part of him wanted to toss the camera into the sea, forget everything and drag her back to bed. Instead, he focused on the images on the screen.
“Do you see it? The shadow man’s outline.” Her finger hovered over the monitor, tracing the shape of wide shoulders and a hat, black on black, but still visible. “There’re his eyes.”
The red orbs peered out at him, turning his insides to ice. “I saw this all in real time last night. What am I supposed to be looking for?”
“Just wait.”
The image on the screen tilted abruptly.
“I’m reaching for the light here,” she explained.
A flicker, then blackness again, the image swung wildly before returning to black.
“There! Did you see it?” She faced him, eyes bright.
He shook his head. “I didn’t see anything that I didn’t last night.”
“Let me try to pause it,” she muttered, rewinding frame by frame. “Here.”
A pale face peered out from the darkness on the screen, damaged and charred. The air sucked from his lungs in a whoosh and his chest squeezed.
The burned woman had been in his room with them last night, too.
* * *
Carly watched the slow dawning horror spread across Declan’s face. He’d seen exactly what she had. A woman, one side of her face pink and fleshy beneath charred skin, a faint glow emanating from her form in the darkness.
Declan’s burned woman.
He turned his dark eyes to hers. His brow lifted. “Do you think she was the one to cause the lights to explode and smash everything?”
Carly shook her head. “The opposite, actually. Look.” She moved the footage back a few minutes and hit play. “The shadow is moving toward you. The lights are blown. We have no way of stopping the shadow from coming any closer, yet the thing seems to stop on its own.” She paused the camera again, so the pale, disfigured face stared out at them. “Then the shadow just leaves. Why would it do that?”
He shoved his hands through his messy black hair. “I have no idea.”
“What if she’s a protector?”
He snorted. “Somehow I doubt it, unless her plan is to warn me to get the hell away from this place, which I’ll happily agree to.”
Carly met Declan’s dark gaze. “She might have somehow stopped the shadow from harming you last night.”
He shot her a look that said her suggestion hardly impressed him. “He destroyed half the house.”
“Maybe in a rage.”
His eyebrow quirked. “A ghost tantrum?”
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“We need to try to communicate with her, to find out what she wants, why she’s coming through to you now when she never has before with anyone else.”
He shook his head. “I think we need an exorcist.”
She shot him a wry smile. “We’re not quite there yet. I’m going to go back to the inn and review the rest of the footage with Andy.” Provided Andy was still talking to her since she’d stayed at Stonecliff last night. She also had a phone call to make, one she didn’t want Declan to know about just yet in case he tried to stop her. But she didn’t like the idea of Declan alone at Stonecliff; the situation here was too volatile. “Why don’t you come back with me?”
“Aw, are you worried about me?” he asked, and kissed the tip of her nose.
Despite his playfulness, something low inside her fluttered. She really did need to go, before she found herself back in his bed.
“It might be a bad idea for anyone to be here by themselves,” she said, carefully.
“If it makes you feel any better, I won’t be here for long by myself. I’m going to call Mrs. Voyle and make sure she’s all right, then I’ve got to replace all those light fixtures that were damaged.”
Carly could be back here before he returned. “All right. Just be careful.”
He grinned, then kissed her. Warm trills ribboned into her limbs. “I’ll make sure to keep the lights on.”
* * *
The early morning sun had vanished by the time Carly steered into the parking lot behind the inn. She switched off the motor and let out a soft sigh, hesitating before getting out of the van and going inside. Memories of Declan’s hands, his mouth moving over her body, warmed her skin.
He could be dangerous, or would have been if he were staying. A pang stung her chest, a sure indication that she liked him more than she should. His dry humor, his need to do the right thing and those dark, brooding good looks didn’t hurt.
It was better that he was going, otherwise she might be tempted to hope for more and she knew better. She was a realist, for God’s sake, and she had seen the reality of marriage. Carly would never make the mistakes her mother had.
Now she’d have to face Andy, who would no doubt have something to say about where she’d spent last night.
She frowned and glanced around the nearly empty car park. Where was her car? Could Andy have gone back to Stonecliff to switch? It seemed like the most reasonable explanation. She pulled her mobile from her purse. No calls, no texts, no messages.
She dialed Andy’s number, but the call went to voice mail almost straight away, as if his phone were off or the battery dead. She didn’t bother leaving a message. Instead, she sent a text.
Back at the inn. Where r u?
For all the good that message would do her if his mobile was indeed off or the battery dead.
Carly pushed open the car door, hauled her bag out from the backseat and hurried inside. There was no sign of the owner or of her son as Carly climbed the stairs, but the lingering scent of fresh coffee filled the air. She’d call down and order a cup to her room, then maybe get some work done while she waited for Andy.
That image of the burned woman she’d spotted while reviewing the footage of the shadow man had caught her like a hit to the stomach, stealing the air from her lungs. Was the spirit protective, or a threat? Could she be the reason for the increased activity? Maybe they’d picked up an EVP.
As she started down the hall toward her room, she spotted Andy’s door open. Was he there after all? Where the hell was her car, then?
She stopped in the opening. Mrs. Leonard bent over the bed smoothing the covers, but there was no sign of Andy. Not just the man himself, but his suitcase, computer, equipment they hadn’t brought with them.
“Excuse me,” Carly said.
The woman straightened and turned, smiling. “Can I help you?”
“Where is the man who was staying here?
Mrs. Leonard blinked as if surprised by her question. “He checked out.”
“I beg your pardon.”
The woman nodded. “This morning, early, about seven-thirty, I’d say.”
“Right, thank you,” she said, already digging through her purse for her mobile and making her way to her room.
That couldn’t be right. He wouldn’t just leave like that, even if he was angry, and especially not with her car.
She dialed Andy’s number. Voice mail again. She left a left a brief message asking him to call her.
Her heart rate had kicked up, nerves leaving her skin clammy. Once inside her room with the door closed, she dialed Declan. He answered on the first ring.
“Hello.”
“Hi,” she said, feeling foolish, but not sure why. “I’m sorry to bother you.”
“You’re not. Believe me.” Something about his wry tone made her wonder what he’d been doing. “Is everything all right?”
“Um…I’m not sure. Are you still at Stonecliff, or have you left?”
“No, I’m still here. I just got off the phone with Mrs. Voyle.”
“Is she alright?”
“She said she has the flu, but she’s already feeling better. She’ll be back tomorrow.”
“That’s good.” She sounded distracted, even to herself. “Did Andy turn up at Stonecliff after I left?”
“No, why?”
Carly told him about finding Andy’s room empty and Mrs. Leonard’s claim that he’d checked out.
“He was kind of pissed off last night. Maybe he did go home,” Declan suggested.
“In my car?”
“You’re right. If he did plan on leaving this morning, he would have switched cars first.” Declan’s tone was thoughtful. “I’ll head over to you and keep my eye out for him in case he’s been in an accident. Once I get to the inn, we’ll decide what to do next.”
“You don’t have to. I know you must have a lot to do today.” She could manage on her own, and she never liked to rely too much on a man she was involved with.
“It’s fine. Just wait for me. Don’t leave the inn until I get there.”
She swallowed hard. “Thank you.”
“I’ll call you if I find him.”
She hung up and started to pace the small room, arms wrapped around her middle. Her insides twisted into frigid knots. Maybe she was making something out of nothing. Andy could have gone to grab something for his breakfast, or maybe he really had been angry enough to leave with her car instead of waiting for her to turn up with his van.
Pressing the heel of her hand to the dull throb beating in her forehead, she stopped pacing and squeezed her eyes closed. None of her rationalizations had done anything to ease the fear gripping her heart. Not when Andy was missing in a village where so many men had vanished before him.
Chapter Twelve
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see any evidence that Mr. Quinn is missing.”
The detective lifted his gaze from his notepad and flashed a warm smile at Carly. She gritted her teeth and curled her fingers around the edge of her chair, shifting her gaze to the view outside the huge picture window. Outside the inn’s lounge, black clouds swirled over roiling pewter colored waves crashing against the beach—the weather nearly as tumultuous as her mood. Slow-building anger mingled with the anxiety already coursing through her system, leaving her restless, frustrated and on the verge of explosion.
If the man seated on the settee across from her could be any more condescending she couldn’t think how. The detective was an attractive man, probably in his early to mid-thirties, chestnut brown hair cut short at the sides and back, left slightly long at the top and carefully styled. His features were long and classically drawn, his eyes brown, not glinting black like Declan’s, but warm, rich whiskey. His designer suit was immaculate, without so much as a crease. He was extremely good-looking and no one thought so more than the man himself.
“No evidence?” She struggled to keep her voice from rising. “He checked out this morning and no one’s heard from him since
. He’s not responding to my calls or texts.”
“You said yourself that you’d had an argument last night.” Detective Miller flipped back through his notepad. “A professional difference of opinion,” he said, reading her own words back to her. He looked up once more, his smile morphing into a knowing smirk while his gaze bounced between her and Declan leaning against the wall behind her. “Maybe Mr. Quinn just isn’t interested in speaking to either of you.”
She’d have to be deaf to miss the implication dripping from the detective’s smooth voice. Since she’d admitted to arguing with Andy last night and staying over at Stonecliff rather than returning to the inn, Miller seemed to assume he’d stepped into a lover’s triangle.
“If you don’t think there’s been a crime, why are you even here?” Declan asked. “Shouldn’t a call like this be handled by a constable instead of a detective inspector?”
She glanced back at Declan to gauge his mood. Arms folded over his chest, features stony, his expression gave nothing away.
Miller’s charming grin dimmed. “After what happened this past spring, we want to be very careful about reports of missing men. It’s a sensitive topic in Cragera Bay.”
“Then shouldn’t you be out there trying to track Andy down rather than trying to convince us he’s not missing?” Carly snapped. “Given what happened this past spring.”
“I understand you’re frightened.” Miller reached over and gave her knee a reassuring squeeze along with another charming grin. “But you must keep in mind the people responsible for those murdered men are all dead.”
“How do you know?” Declan asked.
The detective chuckled. “Not to be gruesome, but I saw the bodies myself.”
“How do you know there weren’t more than three people involved?”
“A witness account. He’d been taken to The Devil’s Eye, but managed to escape.”
Miller shifted his attention back to Carly. “I’m sure your friend is fine.”
Carly rolled her eyes, drew in another deep breath and let it out slowly. “He wouldn’t have left with my car. He would have switched before going home.”