by Ashlyn Chase
When he finally lifted his head, her eyes had a glazed look that must have mirrored his own. He began to slide down her body, but her horse voice said, “No. I need you...now.”
“Are you sure?” He wasn’t sure of anything except that he didn’t want to hurt her.
She nodded. “I’ve never wanted anything more. J—just try to move slowly.”
He had no problem taking her long and slow. The sensuous dance they shared was just that. A shared tender and loving union.
He climaxed with deep, wrenching spasms. It was good. Unbelievably good. He raised himself up on his elbows to tell her so.
Her eyes were glistening.
He gasped. “Did I hurt you?”
“Goddess, no. I...I felt...” She couldn’t seem to find the words.
“Loved?”
“Yes,” she said, and as if a dam broke, she let the tears flow.
Ethan wrapped his arms around her and rolled until she was on top of him. He held her tight and caressed her back while he murmured words of love he’d never said to anybody.
Chapter 12
“What do you mean Independence has left the building? He was never in a building. I thought he was an outdoor dog.”
Fayleen had surprised Hanna once again in her suite. This time, she popped in on her while she was in her bathrobe and about to get dressed. Hanna was not amused.
“I know. I know. But he’s nowhere to be found right now,” Fayleen said. “I have a sinking feeling that the Stregheria got to him.”
“Goddess damn it!” Hanna sputtered. “There are thirteen of them. How are we supposed to find out which one he went home with? Or even where they live?” She rummaged through her drawers and found the underwear, sweater and jeans she wanted to wear on her day off. “By the way, you know why I couldn’t take him. I live in a hotel. But what was your excuse?”
Fayleen dropped onto Hanna’s bed, head in her hands. She mumbled something.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
Fayleen stared and the ceiling and blurted out, “I live with my parents.”
Hanna hesitated. Should she laugh? Sympathize? Best to ignore it, she decided. “Okay. So what do we do now?”
“I knew you’d be pissed, so I concentrated on locating Michele. I found the footage of Raven’s car on the date she fled.”
“What do mean you ‘found it?’”
Fayleen grinned and shrugged. “Let’s not go there. It involved a minor b and e and some magic—but it was necessary.”
“Breaking and entering a government facility was necessary? You could have been caught. They probably have cameras.”
“I used an invisibility spell. Don’t worry. The thing is, she got on Route 95, heading south.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. It’s the only major highway out of here.” Hanna closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“No. It does. Listen. I followed the highway on traffic cams, taking into consideration her driving speed and direction. She drove due south. I almost lost her in New York City.”
“Everyone gets lost in New York. Did you pick up her trail again?”
“Yeah, eventually. She was still heading south on 95. By that time it was after midnight.”
“Okay. So did she stop for the night?”
“Nope. She was hell bent on getting out of Dodge. Unfortunately the cameras really drop off once you hit the Carolinas.”
“Okay, so then what?”
Fayleen squirmed uncomfortably and Hanna just knew she’d lost her at that point. “Fine. You lost her. At least we know where she might have gone. And fortunately you know the area.”
“Um, yeah.”
“Uh-oh.” Hanna folded her arms. “What does that mean?”
“Well, you know that VIN number you gave me and how we figured she’d probably sell the car for some fast cash once she got where she was going?”
“Yes...”
Fayleen shrugged one shoulder. “I may have committed a tiny crime at the North Carolina DMV. People have to register vehicle sales. Right?”
Hanna didn’t know whether to be worried or not. Her friend was sitting in front of her and not in a jail cell, so that was a good sign. “Go on.”
“She didn’t sell the car in either of the Carolinas. I searched more camera footage and never found her again.”
Hanna paced. “She took off six months ago. Whoever bought the car must have sent the title into the registry by now.”
“I know. Or maybe it broke down.”
“Or maybe she knew someone in the area and kept the car to get around.”
Hanna sighed. “First, one of us, should check the area for the car in case it was abandoned. Since you got us into this mess, that should be you.”
“And what will you be doing?”
“Putting on some clothes. Now get out of my room. I’m not getting sky clad in front of your skinny ass.”
Fayleen rolled her eyes. “Fine. But what can you do to help after that?”
Hanna pondered that for a minute. “You said you staged a tiny break-in of the DMV?”
“Yes.”
“Only in the Carolinas?”
“Yeah. Well, it seemed logical.”
Logic was never Fayleen’s strong suit. “There are a few more Southern States to look into. She may have slipped by the cameras after realizing the highways were monitored more closely than back roads. I could cloak myself and check the Georgia and Florida title transfer records. Did you have to turn back time to see all that camera footage?”
“Oh yeah. It gave me quite a headache.”
Hanna was tempted to say, ‘Good,’ but she held her tongue. “I think I’ll just go back to last night. Maybe the only person I’ll need to avoid is a security guard.”
“Yeah. That’s when I did it.”
“Okay, so we have a plan. Let’s meet back at the garbage dump tonight. Maybe Independence was hiding from you.”
“I don’t know why he would. I scratched behind his ears and rubbed his belly and everything.”
“Well, maybe the Stregheria offered him steak. Who knows? Now get the Hell out of my bedroom so I can get dressed.”
* * * *
Brigit had made a maternity coat out of her Indian blanket... and just in time. The thermometer at her cottage read 35 degrees. Now, entering Myranda’s occult shop, she happily shook off the cold and greeted the women who worked there.
“It’s friggin’ cold out there,” isn’t it?” Yvonne said. “I imagine Ethan doesn’t like working in this weather.”
She tried to sound casual. “Uh, I don’t know. Probably not.”
Myranda rolled her eyes. “Still pretending you’re not together?” Then she strolled over and rubbed the sleeve of Brigit’s old blanket. “Nice coat! Is this the one you were talking about making?”
“Yeah. I think it came out pretty well, considering.”
“Considering nothing,” Yvonne said. “It’s beautiful.”
“You know I made this out of an old blanket, right?” Brigit asked.
“Even better.” Yvonne joined Myranda who was still admiring the colorful coat and how she’d matched the stripes on the seams.
“Myranda. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Myranda grinned. “Probably.” She softened her smile for Brigit. “Could you be persuaded to make one for me?”
“But I only had one blanket like this.”
Myranda chuckled. “I can give you the material. It’s the pattern I’m interested in. I’ve seen coats like this, even on non-pregnant women. It’s a style. What’s it called? A swing coat?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“I love it.”
A customer came into the store, followed by a couple of spirits. Brigit took a step back as if she needed to make room for everyone.
Myranda must have noticed. “Welcome. Did you want a reading?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
Yvonne chuckled a
nd pointed to Myranda. “Mrs. Psychic knows all.” She sounded like a side-show huckster and made a spooky noise.
Brigit was glad she wasn’t reading the woman—or more specifically that Yvonne wasn’t promising an all-knowing ability she didn’t have.
“How long did you want? Fifteen minutes? Half an Hour?”
The woman smirked. “You tell me.”
“Oh, cripes,” Myranda mumbled under her breath. Then she turned to the woman with her full-watt smile and said, “How about a half hour? I don’t have another appointment until ten thirty.”
“How much is it?”
“Sixty dollars.”
“Yikes! That’s too much. How much do you charge for fifteen minutes?”
“Exactly half. Thirty dollars.”
Brigit did the mental calculations and figured out Myranda was making one hundred and twenty dollars an hour. Must be nice. She suddenly understood why she wasn’t willing to take a chance on her staff being less than experienced professionals.
“I’ll take the fifteen minute reading.”
The woman followed Myranda into one of the private rooms in the back. One of the spirits went with them. Unfortunately, the other one kept staring at Brigit. She tried to ignore the male spirit until he went away, but he didn’t leave.
She pulled out her mobile phone, but the battery had died. “Uh, Yvonne, can I borrow your phone?”
“Sure.” She handed her the cordless phone and Brigit punched in Ethan’s home phone number.
She was relieved when he answered on the third ring.
“Are you busy?”
“Not really. I have to stay nearby in case I get a call, but I don’t have any jobs scheduled until tomorrow.”
“Perfect. Can I come over?”
“Please do.”
She could hear the smile in his voice and her calm began to return. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Great. See you then.”
When she hung up and handed the phone back to Yvonne, the sales clerk winked. “Now will you stop pretending you and Ethan aren’t an item?”
She felt a little foolish. “Okay, fine. Trying to keep secrets from psychics is a pain in the ass, anyway.”
Yvonne laughed.
Brigit made a hasty exit, expecting the spirit to stay behind.
He didn’t.
He walked right beside her, glancing over from time to time. She couldn’t wait until he either went away, or she could get inside Ethan’s place...where talking to herself wouldn’t land her in a nut house, and she could finally tell the unwanted spirit to go away.
When she arrived at Ethan’s Court Street address, she used the antique brass knocker. It was shaped like an anchor and fit her lover to a T. He was quickly becoming her anchor in every shit-storm.
Ethan opened the door and smiled. She couldn’t help smiling in return, no matter how uncomfortable her hitchhiker was making her feel.
“It’s great that you came by,” he said. “I have something to give you.”
“Really?” She couldn’t imagine what he’d be giving her. It wasn’t Yule or Christmas yet. She felt badly that she hadn’t brought him anything but a pesky spirit. On his way to the kitchen, he stopped and turned around.
“Charlotte just said we have an intruder.”
“Yes.” Brigit pointed to the male spirit with her thumb, knowing Ethan couldn’t see him. “Where is Charlotte? Maybe she can help.”
Charlotte came into view from the stairs. The male spirit looked at her and took a step back. Perhaps they respected each other’s haunts. His clothing was from another time, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the seventeen hundreds—Charlotte’s era. Even so, she doubted they knew each other.
Ethan looked at her strangely. “Are you okay, Bridge?”
“Not really. I couldn’t wait to get here so this guy would leave me alone. I figured if he didn’t get lost along the way, maybe he’d leave once I got here and asked him to.”
Charlotte held up her hand as if to say, “Stop. Her mouth continued moving, but too fast for Brigit to lip read.”
Ethan approached Brigit. “I can hear Charlotte, and you, of course, but no one else. You’re saying there’s another spirit here?”
“Yes. It looks like they’re communicating with each other, although they’re just starting at each other.”
“Huh. Well, maybe we should leave them to talk—or whatever, and you can come into the kitchen with me. That’s where I left your present.”
“I can’t imagine what you’d be giving me.” Actually, she could. She hoped it wasn’t some big-ass diamond ring that she’d have to refuse. Despite everything her stepfather had done, they hadn’t crumbled to the pressure—yet. They agreed to keep on dating, but not to do anything permanent until and unless they were good and ready.
He handed her a cell phone.
“What’s this?”
“I thought it would be fairly obvious. It’s a phone.”
She stuck a hand on her hip and frowned. “I know that, smart guy. What’s it for? I have a cell phone.”
“But you never answer it. I’ve called you a few times. Either you’re mad at me, or it’s not working.”
“Oh.” She grinned sheepishly. “I mostly use the land line, and I forget to charge my cell for days.”
“I figured that might be it. I also bought you a charging pad. Just lay it on top of that when you get home and pick it up before you walk out the door.” I’ve programmed my cell number into it and added facetime so we can see each other.”
“You didn’t have to get me a whole new phone.”
“We had to have the same kind in order to use facetime.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say. Well, no. That’s not true.” She threw her arms around his neck and said, “Thank you.” She punctuated her appreciation with a hard smacking kiss.
He grinned. After a brief hesitation, he said, “I wonder what our ghost guests are up to.”
“Has Charlotte been quiet?”
“Very.”
“Let’s go see. Actually, I’ll see and you can listen.”
#
Brigit made her way back to the living room while tucking her new charging pad and iPhone into her tote bag. When she glanced up she stopped so suddenly, Ethan bumped into her.
“Oh, sorry. What do you see?”
She giggled. “Charlotte making out with our stranger spirit.”
“Hell, Charlotte’s pretty strange. I don’t know if we can handle anyone stranger.”
“Hey! Keep your nasty comments to yourself. I was just comforting this poor, poor man.”
“Sorry, Charlotte.” Ethan chuckled. “At least you’re talking now. What’s up?”
“His name is Enzo, and he has unfinished business.”
“What kind of unfinished business?” Ethan glanced at Brigit who seemed to be concentrating intensely on the air in front of her.
“His body was dumped in a shallow ditch. He believes he needs a decent Christian burial before he can go to heaven.”
Ethan mumbled, “Boy, did he come to the wrong place.”
“Why did you say that?” Brigit asked him.
“You couldn’t hear Charlotte or read her lips?”
“No.” She sighed. “I’m not catching on to the whole medium thing as quickly as I’d like.”
“Well, you haven’t been trying for very long either. You probably just need practice.”
“Hey! Spirit in anguish over here...”
“I don’t think he’ll die if he waits a minute or two for us to get back to him, Charlotte.”
“Wow,” Brigit exclaimed.
“What did she do?”
“Put it this way, if looks could kill, she’d have two spirits to make out with.”
Ethan snorted. “Yeah. Like that’s gonna happen.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, Charlotte. Tell him to give us the whole story. I’m not sure if we can help or not, but we’ll hear him out.”
&nbs
p; “Thank you.” A different voice spoke. Lower and softer than Charlotte’s voice. Ethan wasn’t sure he’d be able to hear the guy at all, but apparently he could. At least when the spirit wanted to be heard.
“My name is Enzo Pairetti. I was making ale after the civil war.”
“Could you read his lips, Bridge? He’s pretty soft spoken, so I doubt you heard him.”
“Yeah. You’re right, but he’s speaking slowly enough that I can read some of what he’s saying. He said ‘My name in Enzo Bear Eddy and he was making hay after the Civil War.’”
“Uh...Okay. Continue, Enzo.”
Brigit crossed her arms. “That’s not what he said at all, is it?”
Ethan smiled. “You got a few words right.”
She threw her hands in the air. “I’m a terrible medium! You’re a better medium than I am.”
Ethan wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a side squeeze. “That’s not true at all. Spirits seek you out. They trust you. I wouldn’t be talking to Enzo if you hadn’t brought him here.”
“I didn’t bring him. He followed me.”
“Hey! Does anyone want to help this guy besides me?”
“Oh,” Brigit said. “Charlotte’s waving. Apparently she wants our attention.”
“See?” Ethan said. “By ourselves we’re only partially effective. Together we make a whole medium.” He turned to the ceiling. “And you can just wait a couple of minutes, Charlotte.”
Ethan waited and didn’t hear Charlotte respond, but Brigit was giggling.
“What’s she doing?”
“What isn’t she doing? She’s kicking you in the shins, and bonking you on the head.”
“In other words, being her usual patient self.”
“Yes. Charlotte, it’s okay. We’re ready to give it another try.”
Charlotte sighed in relief. “He really needs your help. How is he supposed to rest unless someone finds his body and...well...a priest or something to say a few words over it.”
“So we don’t have to dig him up? He just needs a priest to help him to the other side?” Brigit responded correctly. Ethan was relieved that she seemed to be getting the hang of it. He really couldn’t offer to sit at Myranda’s shop and be audio half of a medium.