“Stop messing with me.” I pretend to slap him and push away from the bed. The truth is, as much as my horny body wants to make out with him, I can’t indulge when he’s only my security detail. “You’re supposed to be on police business, and I’m on the job right now, getting my hotel ready for tonight’s opening.”
“We still have hours. Relax a little.” His face is in the shadows, but the gleam in his eyes is wicked and darkly tempting. “All work and no play.”
“What’s gotten into you?” I tap him playfully, still holding myself back. “This isn’t the sheriff I know.”
“No one knows we’re down here, and any sounds will be attributed to the haunt effects.” He curls a strand of my hair around his finger and tugs. “It’s the perfect setup.”
For what?
I stare into the deep-set eyes whose darkness invites me to plunge down a tunnel of black. Is this my Todd, or has he morphed into something else?
“I can’t. I mean, we can’t keep doing this.”
“Who’s making the rules?” He spreads his hands with the innocence of the condemned. A half-smile quirks the corners of his mouth. “What are you afraid of, Tami King?”
You, I almost blurt, but it’s not true. This seductive entity that looks and sounds like Todd is more tempting than frightening. I want more. Much more.
“If I get involved with you, I don’t want to hide it under a bushel barrel. I want to shine my light bright so everyone can see how happy I am.”
“Oh, I can definitely make you shine so bright.” He licks his lips and draws me toward him like an asp hypnotizing its prey.
“I want you,” I barely mutter as our mouths join and I let myself partake of the forbidden fruit. Visions and sensations fill me, and my body heats and throbs with desperate need. I rub every bit of me, my busting breasts, my sensitive nipples, my soft belly, and my greedy hands over the solid platform of his muscles. I spread my trembling thighs and smush against his rod of iron, lusting to be impaled, begging to be filled and hammered on the anvil of his love.
Hot air pants from my lungs, and moans fill my throat. I’m sizzling like bacon over a hot griddle, and I yearn to ride high on my hard, sweaty steed with his horn deeply embedded inside, pulsing and throbbing, riding him hard, driving him with whips into a sweaty lather. I gasp and curl, gripping tight, friction, heat, rocketing toward a nuclear explosion.
“I’m coming!!!” A keening guttural howl rips through me as I prepare to launch.
“Tami, Tami, what’s going on?” Todd sounds strangely concerned.
Bzzzt! Thud. The mic drops, and the music stops.
I blink up at a dark visage, the same demon I thought I was in bed with. But instead of wickedness, his face is a mirror of worry.
“Are you okay?” Todd’s solid hands grip my shoulders, and he shakes me slightly. “You zoned out.”
I gape around the basement dungeon and stare at the face that’s always behind my dreams. A cold mist settles over my brow, and spidery ice grips my scalp.
“What was I doing?”
He points to the rumpled bed. “You said you wanted to test the bed for special effects.”
“No, it was you.”
One eyebrow lifts slowly. “Me? Oh, I would never mess up your hotel bed.”
“You mean? Me?” Horror dawns on me, and I wonder if I spaced out. “Something’s weird around here. Did you hear the baby crying? The ticking? Do you smell the baby powder?”
His face slackens. “No, nothing. You?”
“Of course, you do. Stop joking.” Panic tinges my voice, and I back away from him. “What else did I say? What did I do?”
His face reddens, and his lips curl with amusement. “I believe you were about to come.”
Eighteen
~ Todd ~
I drag Tami from the rumpled bed and wrap her protectively in my arms. She’s bleary-eyed and so tired. I’m afraid she won’t last until the grand opening. Her body is warm and soft, and she leans against me as I walk her out of the Baja Angel Studio and up the basement stairs.
“Everything looks in order down here,” I assure her. “However strangely Evan set it up.”
“Did anything happen while we were in there?” She draws back from me with horror etched on her face.
“No, everything’s okay.” I keep my face in the shadows and open the basement door. “Let’s get some fresh air.”
“Yeow!” A whiff of fur zips by my ankles.
“Ahhh!” Tami yelps and stumbles back. She misses a step, but I tighten my grip and stop her fall.
Her teeth chatter, and her eyes widen. “What was that?”
“Why, I believe it’s a cat.” I pull her closer to me and guide her through the basement door. “Do you want me to catch him?”
“We can’t leave him down there by himself,” she replies. “He might starve.”
“Maybe not, if there are rats and mice down there,” I remind her.
“Don’t. Spread. Rumors.” She grits her teeth. “Not tonight. Let’s leave the door open a crack so he can get out. He might be the same kitten who snuck in while the workers were here. I tried to feed him, but he’s so wild, he wouldn’t come to me.”
“Try leaving a bowl of milk for him,” I suggest and leave the door ajar by wedging a piece of wood.
Tami nods but doesn’t reply. She has a faraway expression in her eyes, and her shoulders are slumped as if burdened down by a rackful of worries.
“You look exhausted. You should take a nap before tonight.”
“I can’t. There’s still too much to do. I have to reset the haunt effects, and I don’t know where Evan is. He’s not answering his phone. If he doesn’t show up for the ghost hunting tonight, my grand opening’s going to be a big bust. My friends will be disappointed, and people will laugh at me.”
“The cell towers are back.” I frown as I check my phone. “Is there anyone else you can call?”
“There’s Molly.” She taps on her phone and walks away from me toward the kitchen.
“If she’s not skunk-drunk.” I hear my voice grow growly, and I suppress the anger threatening to spew.
“She’s been good,” Tami says and then waves for me to be quiet. “Hey, Molly. You up for some extra hours?”
I step away toward the kitchen to let her have some space, but I keep my ears perked. I don’t trust Molly or her brother, Randy, who Tami hired as a security guard.
Tami ends the call after asking Molly to go over the guest rooms and make sure all the effects are in order. She swivels her wide hips toward me and takes my arm. “Now that’s taken care of, it’s time for lunch. Let’s make sure Madam Goldilocks’s Boudoir is not too hot and not too cold.”
“Are you sure it’s wise to give Molly and Randy the keys?” I walk with Tami through the kitchen toward the hallway leading to Goldilocks’s headquarters where she used to run card games in her parlor.
“What do you have against them?” Tami turns her blue eyes toward me. “Is it because they grew up poor?”
“No, nothing like that.” I’m taken aback that she’d accuse me of caring only for the wealthy. “I just think you’re too trusting. Have you changed the locks since the workers left?”
“Why should I bother?” Tami rolls her eyes. “It’s not like they’re going to drive all the way back here to steal anything. We’re too far from the interstate for a quick getaway, and it’s much easier to steal in San Francisco where the police don’t do anything.”
“Yeah, well, at least we try to enforce the law.” My fists tighten at the thought of all the lawlessness Shane told me about.
“You worry too much.” Tami pushes open the double doors to the Goldilocks Suite. “I’ll have Randy stand guard down here, and Chad upstairs.”
“Did you tell them already?”
Tami quirks a doubtful look at me and shrugs. “Of course, I did. Why leave anything to chance?”
“Switch them last minute.” I give her a meaningful look.
/>
“Why? Why would I have them standing guard if I didn’t trust them? I mean, I know both of them from forever. Chad is your brother, for Pete’s sake, and even though Molly didn’t know Randy growing up, I know their family.”
“Knowing the outside is not the same as knowing the heart.” I turn toward the inside of the room, making sure to note the locations of the windows.
“Why should I do what you say?” She steps into the room and throws her purse on one of the richly brocaded settees.
“Police protection.” I wander to the window and check out the latching mechanism.
“You’re taking your undercover work too seriously,” she says in a mocking tone. “Lighten up, Todd. It’ll be okay. We also have Al, Dillon, and Justin patrolling the perimeter. Want me to shift them around too?”
“Good idea. Rotate them and mix it up. That way, if anyone’s scoping this place, they won’t know who is security and who’s a party guest.”
“You’re too paranoid.” She rolls her eyes. “No one’s watching.”
“You’ve forgotten the raccoon and the warning?”
She touches my upper arm and leans against me. “No, which is why you’re here to protect me. Although nothing’s happened lately, and I’m sure it’s a local prank. Everyone gets a dead critter in the mailbox at some point.”
That’s true enough, along with railroad spikes through their doors, and twisted wire sculptures on their porches. I hope my mother isn’t mixed up in this. She’s one of those deliberately homeless artists who sells their creations to backwoods souvenir shops and wanders around picking up inspiration while leaving her “mark.”
“You were pretty freaked out when you called me,” I remind her. “Tell you what. If you switch Chad and Randy, I won’t bug you about it. I’m going to be in costume anyway, so I can keep an eye on the party.”
“Keep an eye, my foot.” Tami stomps in front of me with her hands on her hips. “I told Linx I have a mystery date, and I plan on having your attention on me all night.”
“I’m not going to argue with that.” I turn away from her, not wanting her to catch the flush on my face.
All night? I can go for that, but at the same time, I heard what she’d said when she was tossing on the bed in Baja Angel’s room. She didn’t want to keep me under wraps. If I get in too deep, she’ll want to expose us.
She doesn’t understand why I can’t let her father get his hooks into me.
“Do you like the way I decorated this suite?” Tami takes my hand and leads me around Madam Goldilocks’s Boudoir. We stop in front of a bay window with a window seat. It faces the back of the property, well away from the parking area, giving enough privacy to keep the drapes open.
“You put in a lot of details. I like it.” I scan the overall effect and nod appreciatively. Strangely, I can see myself sitting on one of the armchairs in front of the fire. It’s not as rustic as my cabin, but it’s the perfect apartment for someone like Tami who might want to move out of her family’s home.
As if she knows what I’m thinking, she says, “I picked everything for Madam Goldilocks’s Boudoir myself. It’s quite a nice apartment and separate enough from the rest of the guest rooms. I even commissioned The Three Bears artwork over the fireplace. Like it?”
“I do.” Everything about it feels like Tami with her bright blue eyes and corn silk hair. I can picture her as the original Miss Goldilocks, presiding over her business in front of the large bay window with the view toward the mountain peaks.
The light-blue wallpaper is newly hung but of the vintage Victorian style. The velvet drapes are royal blue, and two comfortable settees are arranged in front of the fireplace lit with a small crackling fire.
The antique wooden table with its slender and gracefully curved legs is set for two, and the wooden floor is covered with a peacock-blue and green patterned Aubusson rug.
“I can see you living here instead of renting this out. Just like the original owner.” I pull out a chair for her when we take our seats in front of the dining table.
“I’ll take your advice under consideration.” She leans back as Monica serves us a beet salad with goat cheese and arugula, garnished with slivered almonds.
“No spiders?” I pick through it after Monica retreats. “I’m disappointed.”
Tami giggles, covering her mouth. “I’m not saying you won’t be surprised, but for a distrusting man, you’re pretty naïve.”
I peer at the vinaigrette dressing and wonder about the small particles—pepper and herbs or spider legs?
“Why should I trust you?” I sweep the cheese crumbles aside and spear one of the beets. It bleeds a reddish sauce, and I almost drop it.
Again, Tami giggles, and I feel like I’ve dropped down a rabbit hole.
“What’s so funny?” I force myself to eat the slice of red beet.
“Go ahead, swallow it.” She smiles with her eyes and twirls her fork. “That’s a good boy. Now that you’ve eaten of my red beets with the blood orange dressing, you’re trapped in my heart forever.”
It’s too late to spit it out. She’s right. I’ve swallowed already, but I don’t see or taste anything strange. She’s playing with me. It’s all part of the act for her Harrowing Haunts Hotel show.
But then again, if she is playing witch, how do I know she hasn’t put a spell on me? Maybe it’s my fault. After all, I’m not being fair to her to steal kisses and cop feels without acknowledging her affections.
“Not a bad place to be.” I swallow the rest of my salad and prepare to dive into the French dipped roast beef sandwich Monica brought in. “I’m not afraid of you, Tami King.”
“Maybe you should be.” Her smile glazes across from me, and her eyes widen as she stares across my shoulders.
I turn around and catch a floating image in the doorway. It’s headless and blurry, flickering like a badly tuned TV channel.
“What the heck?” I know it’s only a holographic projection, but having that thing stare at me is creepy.
It’s quiet, absent the sound effects, and it’s out of focus, but it seems to glow brighter and twirl around with a spinning parasol.
A veiled head grows from the image, and flyaway long hair wafts up and down like smoke. The ghostly bride raises her hand to her lips and blows me a kiss, then beckons me with her finger to come to her.
“It’s too late, Toddkins,” Tami sings in a spooky voice. “I’m coming ’round the mountain when I come … I’m coming … coming, coming.”
Nineteen
~ Tami ~
It’s finally grand opening night, and I can’t stand still, checking every decoration, greeting guests, and giving pep talks to my employees. I even have security blending in with the guests, everyone in costume, and truthfully, it’s overkill. Evan showed up in the nick of time, right before the first guests checked in, and with Molly in tow, they finished the final touches for the ghost-hunting tour.
“We should be ready.” I smooth a flyaway strand of hair from my face, tucking it underneath my sweeping Victorian-era hat piled high with taffeta, silk, and feathers.
I’m dressed as Madam Goldilocks, in a blue ruffled dress with petticoats, and carry a parasol as a prop. I’m also wearing a sharp hatpin to be historically accurate, since women of those days wielded them to keep men’s wandering hands and lips in line.
“Relax,” Todd says, giving my arm a squeeze. “It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going like clockwork.”
Easy for him to say. He’s hidden inside a costume where no one will recognize him. It’s not his face that’ll get egged if the party’s a big bust.
“I can’t relax. This is my grand opening, and I have status check meetings with my staff every half an hour. I also have to keep an eye on the Graveyard Party out in the parking lot while making sure the hotel guests are comfortable and catered to.”
He shakes his head slowly and caresses my shoulder, snickering under his breath.
I give him an appreciate s
mile and poke the point of my closed parasol on his big foot. Maybe he was right about keeping the opening small, but it’s too late now. There are a dozen campers parked outside, decorated with gravestones, skeletons, ghouls, and scary swamp creatures, and the children are having gobs of fun running between them.
“Tami.” Todd’s eyes are hidden behind the cutouts of his fur-faced mask. “It’s going to be okay. Take a deep breath.”
“I will. Now, you go mingle with the VIP guests,” I tell him, pointing to the saloon side of the dining room. “I need to close out the Graveyard Party and make sure every kid gets a treat bag.”
“I think they’ve had all the treats they can handle,” he says. “Corny’s got everything under control. It’s going very well.”
I can’t help the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. It’s just that I want everything to be perfect.
“The sun is setting soon, so we have to get the kids back to the town square for the Monster Mash Dance.” I tick off the agenda items in my mind. “Before the adults from the Sixty Miners bar crawl come over for the Horror Fest.”
“I see Walt and Johnson directing traffic,” Todd says. “Looks like the trick or treating is almost over.”
I slink away from Todd’s side and exit out a set of French doors to the patio where Viola Graham is finishing up the Haunted Story Hour.
“And that is how the giant pumpkin burst—full of treats for every good little goblin who helped him grow.” Viola shows the book in a semi-circle and proclaims, “The End.”
“Yay! Do we get a treat, too?” Little Jessie, dressed as a scarecrow country girl, tugs at Miss Viola’s gown.
“We want lots of treats exploding all over us.” A boy wearing a gorilla costume beats his chest.
“Wooo, wooo, wooo,” a man wearing a pumpkin costume hoots. “I’ve got so many treats I’m bursting.”
“Treat, treat, treat!” the rows of little goblins, witches, princesses, and monsters chant as they line up to get their goody bags.
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