Haunting Ellie

by Patti Berg

  “What about my brother?” she asked, quickly scanning the list of names.

  “I don’t see it. But that doesn’t mean his name’s not listed. We can deal with that later, though. Maybe I can work something out with Francesca.”

  She had to let it go at that. They were in another man’s home illegally. They had broken into a drawer and were stealing someone else’s possessions. They didn’t have time to deal with her fears.

  “What about the deeds?” Elizabeth asked, hoping that would be the evidence they needed to unravel all the loose edges of a hundred-year-old crime.

  Jon rummaged through the rest of the drawers. “I think this is all we’re going to find.”

  Somehow Elizabeth managed to smile, although her heart wasn’t in it, and she followed Jon up the stairs and back into the drawing room. They went to the moose head and Jon twisted it, just as Elizabeth had. Slowly the gun cabinet slid back into place.

  Jon kissed her nose and gripped her fingers. “Come on, Ellie. Let’s get out of here.”

  They took the same path out of the house that they’d taken coming in, quietly opened and closed the back door, and headed outside. The snow was falling harder now, covering up all traces of their tracks. With the ledger safely tucked under Jon’s jacket, they walked quickly up the street, trying not to draw any attention.

  Elizabeth was closing the hotel door behind them when she saw the lights of the olive-drab truck heading toward Winchester Place.

  “I wonder why they’re back so soon?” Elizabeth said, leaning heavily against the door. She took several slow, easy breaths of relief while Jon looked through the window.

  “It’s only Matt. Doesn’t make sense that he’d come back alone.”

  Elizabeth began to worry, but Jon stilled her fears with a kiss. “Everything’s going to be all right,” he said, cupping her face in his hands. “Francesca knows what she’s doing.”

  Jon slid his fingers behind her head and wove them through her hair. “Do you like the life of an undercover operative?”

  She caressed his cheek and put one hand over his heart. Even through the lamb’s wool coat and the journal still tucked underneath, she could feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest and knew, deep inside, he didn’t like that life any more than she did. “I’ll leave the intrigue to the Francescas of the world. I’d prefer operating an inn, cooking elegant meals, and having you pay me nightly visits.”

  Jon’s smile disappeared, replaced by a mixture of relief, fear, and lust. He leaned down and kissed her long and hard, his fingers tightening in her hair.

  “We’re not doing anything stupid like that again, Ellie,” he stated, whispering the words in her ear. “If something had happened to you—”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” she interrupted. “I’ve already had my brush with death.”

  “Is that a promise?” Jon asked.

  “It’s a promise.”

  Alex cleared his throat. “Excuse me. I’ve been worried, too. Does that matter to either of you?”

  “Don’t worry, Alex,” Jon said. “We found something to help you get your revenge.”

  Alex looked annoyed. “I wasn’t worried about that. Thunder and tarnation! I was worried about the two of you tangling with that lily-livered buzzard.”

  Elizabeth leaned into Jon’s chest and laughed.

  “What we found is going to put that lily-livered buzzard behind bars, but it’s not the information we wanted to find.” Jon shrugged out of his coat. He carried the ledger to the chesterfield and sat down to inspect the records. Alex did the same.

  Close together like that, Elizabeth could see the resemblance between Jon and Alex. Although more than half a foot and probably a hundred pounds separated them in size, it was easy to see the family traits: the blond hair, the strong jaw and cleft chin, and the thumbs that twiddled when they were deep in thought.

  She hung up her coat and joined them, sitting on the floor at Jon’s side. “Did you find Eric’s name in the ledger?”

  Jon nodded, and she swallowed hard, wishing the truth didn’t hurt so much. “Anyone else?” she asked, biting back her tears.

  “No locals. A state senator from somewhere back East who I’ve seen mentioned in the papers a time or two. He’s paid big money to get what he wanted—out of season—and he’ll probably pay big money to make his bail and pay the fines once he’s been tried. Looks like he was with Matt on his last trip to Florida, too. Hunting alligator isn’t illegal anymore, but I don’t know the limit or season, and it shows here that they made a haul.”

  “How does this help me?” Alex asked.

  “It puts Matt in prison for a while,” Jon told him, as he flipped through more pages.

  “But what about the deed?” Alex asked. “Everything—almost all of Sapphire—rightly belongs to you.”

  “We couldn’t find those records,” Elizabeth said. “Just the outfitting ledger.”

  “Owning nearly all of Sapphire doesn’t mean anything to me,” Jon said. Besides, I’ve already got more than I need. Thomas took care of that, so the deeds don’t matter.”

  “It’s not right,” Alex said. “I don’t want Matt Winchester, or any other Winchester, to have what rightly belongs to you.”

  Alex sighed deeply. He floated up from the sofa, sailed across the room, and stood at the window, where he parted the curtains and looked up the road to Dalton House. “Do you think there might be enough evidence in those ledgers?” he whispered. “I’m getting awfully tired of this existence.”

  “I think you’re the only one who can decide if it’s enough,” Elizabeth said. “You wanted revenge. You swore you wouldn’t rest until all the Winchesters were out of town. With the information we have, we can get rid of Matt. We can smear his name and make it so he won’t come back to Sapphire once he gets out of jail, and we can set the record straight about what happened a hundred years ago.”

  Elizabeth walked across the room and rested a shoulder against the wall next to Alex. “The property’s not important to Jon. Is it all that important to you?”

  He tilted his head to look at her, and that slow grin she’d come to love crossed his face. He shook his head. “No. All that matters is Amanda.”

  “Then I say we have a quick celebration before Francesca shows up for that ledger and I have to watch my brother get hauled off to jail. Once that’s done, we can take you back to Dalton House, and see if we can send you on your way.”

  “You think it’s going to be that easy?” Alex asked.

  “I hope so.” She smiled at Alex and at Jon. “Right now, I want to celebrate. I’ve got wine and bread and cheesecake. I know you can’t eat or drink, Alex, but you don’t mind sharing one more evening of fun with us, do you?”

  Alex offered a cockeyed grin. “Only if you’ll let me swing from the chandelier.”

  oOo

  “To Alexander Stewart.” Jon raised his glass of wine, and his sapphire eyes sparkled, brightening the room even more than the light from the crystal chandelier. “May your days on earth be few.”

  Alexander’s laughter echoed through the room. “A right nice sentiment, grandson. But now it’s my turn.” He raised his empty glass and added his own cheer. ‘To Jon and Ellie. May you have as much happiness in your lifetime as... as Amanda and I would have had in ours.”

  Gordon MacRae’s beautiful voice drifted through the room, and Jon took her into his arms, carrying her to heaven and beyond, as they waltzed to “Oh, What A Beautiful Mornin’.”

  “Think you’ll be able to let him go?” Jon asked, as Alex swung from the chandelier to the fireplace mantel and stretched out to watch them dance.

  “It won’t be easy.” Elizabeth rested her head on Jon’s chest, cherishing his warmth and the slow, steady rhythm of his heart. “I’m going to miss his antics, but it’s high time he leave this place and, hopefully, be with Amanda.”

  Jon’s arms tightened and his dance steps shortened. They whirled together beneath a calm,
steady chandelier, his hands caressing her back, hers caressing his neck. They moved together as one, slow and easy, and she couldn’t imagine ever being away from him again. When he kissed her, she wanted that sweet yet almost possessive caress to last for all eternity.

  “Mind if I cut in?” Alex interrupted. “You’ve had the pleasure of the lady’s company all night, and if you’re lucky, you’ll have it for the rest of your life. If you don’t mind, I’d like at least a minute.”

  Jon’s lips brushed over Elizabeth’s mouth one more time before releasing her into Alexander’s open arms. But Alex didn’t touch her. Not yet. He moved back a foot and offered her a most gracious and gentlemanly bow. Elizabeth smiled in return and curtsied, pretending she wore one of the frilly pink ruffled dresses that Amanda had liked to wear.

  Alex moved closer then, and she felt his strange, weightless touch as he took her hand in his, placing his other lightly at her waist. “It’s been a while. Forgive me if I step on your toes.”

  “I’m sure I won’t feel a thing.” She laughed and allowed Alex to lead her around the room. She was positive he could lift her high into the air if he wanted to, but instead he held her at arm’s length and smiled as he waltzed.

  “Amanda and I waltzed at our engagement party. Maybe we’ll get another chance.”

  He spoke with so much hope it nearly brought tears to her eyes. “When you’re together again,” she said, “tell her about tonight, about Jon, and me. And tell her we loved you.”

  “I reckon I just might do that, right after I kiss her and hold her and tell her how much I love her.”

  Elizabeth looked over Alexander’s shoulder, catching glimpses of Jon as her ghostly companion danced her around the room. He was smiling, the same smile she’d seen on Alexander’s face, and she realized even when Alexander was gone, she’d still have a part of him in her life—forever.

  Jon swept her back into his arms a few minutes later. “God, you’re pretty,” he said, and lowered his lips to hers as if they hadn’t kissed or touched in ages. It was the sweetest, tenderest kiss she could ever remember.

  And then her entire world exploded.

  The chandelier crashed, sending shattering glass spraying in all directions. Jon dived over Elizabeth, pushing her to the floor and wrapping his arms about her to protect her body from splinters and shards.

  “What’s happening?” Elizabeth screamed.

  Another explosion thundered through the hotel. A blast of heat blazed across her skin. She heard the rumble and roar of another explosion, as if someone had set off a ton of dynamite beneath her feet.

  And once again a house collapsed upon her.

  Chapter 20

  “Wake up, Jon—wake up,” Alex shouted. “You’ve got to get out of here.”

  Jon heard Alexander’s voice, but it sounded far away. Maybe it was simply a dream. But the sharp pain ricocheting through his shoulders, his back, and his head was far too real. He was in so much pain he wanted to keep his eyes closed and go back to sleep until it ended.

  “The place is on fire, Jon. Please—get up.”

  Jon felt someone tugging on his arm, but he jerked away and pain ripped through his body. He wanted to doze, to drift into a world where the torture being inflicted on him didn’t exist.

  “Hell and tarnation, boy! Think about Elizabeth. You’ve got to get her out of here.”

  Elizabeth? What about Elizabeth? Had he really heard her name? Was she in trouble?

  He tried to move, but the weight of the world pressed down on his spine, trapping him in some sort of hell.

  “Come on, son. I’ll help you.” Was that Alex talking again? “You’ve got to push. I can’t budge this gall-darned thing all by myself.”

  “Jon?” Somewhere in his fog of agony he heard the faint sound of Elizabeth’s voice, so quiet, so very, very quiet.

  “Jon? Please, help me.”

  He forced his eyes to open and through splinters of wood and shards of glass he could see ebony hair and porcelain skin.

  And blood.

  “Ellie!”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Alex shouted. “She’s hurt. You’ve got to get her out of here.”

  Jon shook his head, trying desperately to gather his wits. He dragged in a deep breath, and in spite of the pain, shoved his fists against the floor and pushed, hoping what little strength he had would be enough to lift the oppressive weight bearing down on him.

  “Keep pushing, Jon. Keep pushing.”

  Hell of a time for Alex to become a cheering squad, Jon thought, as burst of adrenaline coursed through him. Again he pressed against the floor, straining every muscle in an attempt to straighten his arms. Whatever it was that had fallen on top of him fought back. It didn’t want to release him, but he had to get the hell out from under it. With one more shove, the heavy weight shifted and fell away.

  Lighter debris tumbled down around him, bits of plaster, shards of crystal. Only then did he realize that he’d fallen on top Elizabeth, that she’d been crushed beneath him and the ceiling and roof and God knows what else that had come crashing down on them.

  “Jon?” Her voice was weak; barely a whisper. Blood covered her face and flowed down her neck; it matted her hair.

  “I’m here, Ellie,” he answered, praying that she’d be safe, that he could get her out of the hotel and somehow stop her bleeding. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

  “I think I’m okay,” she said, amid raspy breaths. “Nothing hurts. I just can’t breathe.”

  Jon eased his weight and that of the fallen debris off of her. “You’re bleeding.”

  “But I feel fine,” she whispered. “I just want to get out of here.”

  Jon sucked in a deep breath, consumed with relief and fear. Smoke and fire burned his lungs, and suddenly he was more than aware of what was going on around them.

  With a new burst of energy and the resolve to get Elizabeth to safety, he shoved against the floor, and with all the strength in his shoulders, back, and legs, he sent the splintered wood and glass flying.

  He rose to his knees, and through the cinders and soot and smoke billowing through what was left of the hotel’s drawing room, he saw timbers tumbled every which way. Beams squealed and moaned, as if they were just barely holding the top floors of the house in place.

  Suddenly, flames leapt about the entry, blocking the only exit he could see.

  They grabbed hold of downed drapes, overturned furniture, and raced closer to where he and Elizabeth were still partially trapped.

  They came closer; moving fast.

  The flames crackled. Sweat coursed down his face.

  Oh, God, he had to get Elizabeth out.

  Now.

  “Ellie,” he tried to shout over the roar of the flames. “Can you roll over and crawl?”

  Somehow she managed to laugh. “Really fast, I think—if you can just find a way out of here.”

  “I’ve already found a way,” Alex called to them.

  Jon could see Alexander’s face filled with worry and fear and excitement. “Lead the way, Alex. We’ll be right behind.” Jon swung his arms out, trying desperately to clear some sort of a pathway. “I can’t hold your hand, Ellie,” he yelled, as she twisted around and got up on her hands and knees. “You’re just going to have to stay close and keep your eyes on me.”

  “There’s too much debris.” She coughed, and he could hear the strain the smoke and heat was taking on her throat. “We’re never going to get through.”

  “Like hell! We’re not getting stuck in here. Just stay close and I’ll clear the way.” He took one more look into her eyes and smiled. “I love you, Ellie; I’m not about to let anything happen to you.”

  Flames sprang up on his left and he began to crawl, shouldering through timber and plasterboard, clearing the way for Elizabeth, holding beams steady for her when he thought for sure they might collapse.

  “Where are we going?” Jon yelled to the ghostly figure floati
ng easily up ahead.

  “The kitchen door,” Alex hollered. ‘There’s no fire there.”

  “Thank God,” Jon heard Elizabeth whisper.

  “Thunder and tarnation!”

  “What now?” Jon screamed.

  “The fire’s moving into the kitchen. You’ve got to move faster.”

  Jon prayed, and pushed, and then he heard Elizabeth muttering at the top of her lungs as if she was chewing someone out. “This isn’t fair, you know. I got crushed under a house a year ago. It’s not supposed to happen twice. I promised I’d change. I promised I’d be a better person, and I’ve tried, I’ve really, really tried.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Jon asked, as he burrowed through a space so narrow a rat would have had trouble squeezing through. He arched up so Elizabeth could get to the next reasonably clear spot and she answered back when she was directly beneath him.

  “I’m talking to God, if you really want to know. Guess He enjoyed last year’s conversation so much, He dreamed up a reason to have another. Remind me to say my prayers more often, okay?”

  “Quit gabbing, you two,” Alex thundered. “We’ve got a slight change of plans.”

  “What now?” Jon yelled.

  “The kitchen walls and the door are on fire. We’ve got to get to the basement.”

  That was impossible, Jon thought. “We’ll be trapped if we go down there.”

  “Not if you take the tunnel to the bank. Digging that blasted thing might have been illegal, but right this minute, I’d like to thank my murderer for doing it. Might be the only good thing Luke Winchester ever accomplished in his godforsaken life.”

  Jon managed to laugh as he pressed on through. He had no idea where they were or how much farther they had to go, but the smoke was entering his lungs. It was getting more and more difficult to breathe, but somehow he crawled faster, with Elizabeth right behind.