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The Haunting of Hotel LaBelle

Page 14

by Sharon Buchbinder


  “Don’t worry.” He wrapped her in a towel, lifted her off her feet, and carried her to bed. Lucius placed her gently on her back, then opened the cloth. “You’re beautiful all over, every inch of you.” He hovered over her, his erection tickling her inner thigh. She arched her hips upward rubbing against him, inviting him in.

  “Not so fast, darlin’, I’ve got some other things in mind.”

  His lips were on her nipples, sucking and nipping them playfully, arousing her to greater heights. And just when she was about to cry out in frustration, he slid his mouth down to her belly, leaving a blazing trail of feathery kisses on her skin. Her legs fell open, and his tongue teased her, sliding over her lower lips and tangling with her throbbing nub of nerve endings. He stopped.

  “Please,” she begged. “More, please.”

  He slid his long fingers inside her hot core, probing for her pleasure spot, and rolled an aching nipple between his fingers at the same time.

  “I adore watching your face while I make love to you.”

  A flush of heat rolled from her toes to her cheeks.

  “Aw, don’t be embarrassed, darlin’. You’re so beautiful. You have the most expressive eyes, and I want to kiss your lips until they’re tender from my touch. I love your breasts, your rosy nipples, your lush, womanly hips. I want to make you happy. I want to watch you when you—”

  She plunged over the abyss of pleasure, grabbed her pillow, and screamed. His long fingers slid deeper inside her and played her like a violin, bringing her yet again to another series of trembling aftershocks of pleasure.

  “I want you inside me.” She gasped.

  Lucius pulled himself up in the bed and plunged into her, filling her quivering void with his warmth and firmness. Her excitement rose with his panting breaths, each thrust bringing her closer to another drop off the cliff of pleasure to her own little death and her mind and brain exploded with stars.

  Within seconds of her climax, he erupted within her, fell on top of her, and murmured, “Darlin’ Dovie, I love you so much.”

  ****

  Lucius came out of his sex stupor with Tallulah pushing and clawing to get out from under him. “What’s wrong?”

  Tears streamed down her face, and sobs tore from her throat. “You. Me. Us. We’re all wrong.” She stormed out of the room, and he jumped up, trailing after her, admiring the swing of her fine bottom as she practically ran away.

  “I don’t understand.” What flew up her nose? “I thought you wanted to go to bed with me. You tore my clothes off and threw yourself at me.”

  “You—you don’t even know what you did, do you?”

  “I made sweet love to a wildcat, and I was looking forward to some more.” Was she always this crazy after sex? Taming broncos had to be easier than this. “Don’t you want to do it again?”

  “Get away from me. I’m not going back to bed with you now, or ever.”

  “You mean you didn’t like it?” He could have sworn she’d enjoyed it as much as he had.

  She stood in the elevator, grabbing her clothes, throwing his in his direction. “Like it?” She laughed. “No, I didn’t like it. I loved it. It was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”

  “Tallulah, darlin’, I don’t understand. If you like splitting the sheets with me, that’s a good sign. We’re meant for each other.”

  Yanking up her pants and pulling her shirt over her head, she hopped faster than a cat on a hot tin roof. “You didn’t see me. You saw her. Every kiss, every moan, every freaking thing you did, you were thinking about her.”

  The woman was plumb loco. “Tallulah, I—”

  “Don’t you Tallulah me. Not after you called me her name. Not after you called me ‘Dovie.’ ”

  Stunned, his feet went out from under him, and his tailbone hit the hardwood floor with a thud. “I did what?”

  “Yeah, you don’t even remember doing it, that’s what makes it sincere. You had sex with me, but I was just a stand in for the woman you really love.” She pulled her boots on and shouted, “Franny, where are you, baby? Time to go.”

  The brass door to the elevator clanged shut, and she hit the button hard. The box began to descend along with his heart. She’s leaving me. The first woman in a hundred years to make him feel alive and he ruined it with the name of a woman long dead. He banged the back of his head against the wall and howled.

  ****

  Tears and snot streaming down her face, Tallulah wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve and hit the gas. She’d burn the shirt when she got home along with every other piece of clothing that smelled of him. “I’m such an idiot. I should have seen this coming a mile away, but he sucked me in with those big, sincere brown eyes and his soft lips.” She slammed the steering wheel with the heel of her hand. “Damn him!”

  Franny whined, and she lowered her voice. “I’m sorry, baby; I’m not mad at you. I’m angry at myself. Fool me once, shame on you—fool me twice, shame on me.” Never again. She was done with men. Between the lying, thieving cheats like Will and the clueless ones like Lucius, she never caught a break. She needed time off from love and all the insanity that went with it. Hormone-addled brains didn’t lend themselves to logical thinking. Lucius had just ripped the wound wide open. She was done.

  “I’m done with men, Franny.” She glanced at the pug, then back at the road and swerved to avoid a horse and rider that appeared on the side of the road out of nowhere.

  “What the hell?”

  Tallulah glanced in the rearview mirror. Nothing. Not even a horse or a dog, much less a rider. Trembling, her hands slick on the wheel, she took deep breaths and focused on the road ahead.

  “I’m exhausted and distraught, that’s all. I’ll stop in Billings, stay at a decent hotel, and get on the road early in the morning.” Just a few miles more and she’d be back in town.

  She crested a hill and hit the brakes.

  A Crow woman dressed in an elk-tooth-covered dress stood in the middle of the road, holding the reins of a blue roan covered with a colorful blanket.

  Legs wobbly, Tallulah put the car in park and left the engine running. She stepped down from the SUV and approached the Indian woman.

  The horse flicked his ears and neighed softly. A fly buzzed in the hot dusty air. The woman stroked the horse’s muzzle and spoke to him in soothing tones.

  “Are you lost? Do you need help?” Tallulah asked.

  The woman laughed a high, bright sound reaching to the heavens. “No,” she hand signed. “You need my help.”

  “Me? I’m fine.” So strange, this woman on her own out in the middle of nowhere. “I’m not lost. I have a GPS.”

  An annoyed look crossed the other woman’s face, and she shook her head so hard, her braids flew around her shoulders. “Go back.”

  “I am going back. I’m going home to New Jersey. Getting away from this land and all the craziness and ghosts and visions—” Tallulah gasped and put her hand over her mouth. “Omigod. You—you’re a spirit—”

  “My time on earth is over. It is time for him to live again. My mother forgave him.”

  Her legs threatened to buckle beneath her. Tallulah backed up to the car and leaned against it.

  “You’re Mourning Dove.”

  The spirit nodded.

  “He’s not over you,” Tallulah said. “He loves you, and no one else will ever take your place. It’s not your call. It’s up to Lucius to learn to let go, and neither you nor I can control him.”

  Mourning Dove shook her head, mounted her horse, pressed her heels into his flanks, and disappeared.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Two weeks after his discharge, Lucius leaned on the gate and admired the way his new granddaughter—too many greats to mention—guided the skittish gray stallion around the corral, all the while, speaking to it in Crow. He had no idea what she said, but the horse named Steel seemed to understand her just fine. He shook his head and trotted slower with each turn. At last he stopped and stood still.
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  He knew just how Steel felt. Last week, he’d been introduced to his entire clan of living descendants at the Crow Fair. In preparation, Emma had provided a cover story. “You’re a long-lost relative, you just found us through SearchMyFamilyTree.com and you came in for the fair.”

  He wondered if Jimmy and Tommy would be at the pow-wow. “And got arrested?”

  “Hey, a criminal record really makes you part of the tribe. Native Americans are arrested twice as often as whites for the same crimes and go to prison over a third more than the rest of the population in the United States.” She brushed a piece of straw off his shirt. “Don’t worry. We’re all family here.”

  Corralled by a circle of people, some in war dress for the competitions, some in Indian princess clothing for the parade, and still others in jeans and chambrays, Lucius felt as jumpy as that horse. At last, one of the teasing cousins, someone in Emma’s generation on her father’s side, came over, slapped him on the back, and handed him a beer. Later on, he found a sign on his back in Crow. Emma translated it for him. “Kiss me.” No wonder every woman—and a couple of men—at the fair had kept running up and pecking him on the cheek.

  “Just remember who did it,” she said with a laugh. “You get payback. That’s what teasing cousins are for.”

  The fair ended, the teepees were folded up, the relatives scattered back across the western states, and Emma returned to her training business. She now approached Steel with soothing tones and put her palm out. He nuzzled at the treats and snorted. Steel belonged to Judge Williams, which showed his good taste in horseflesh and horse whisperers. Training consumed most of Emma’s time, and Lucius mucked out the stalls, watered, and fed the great creatures with pleasure. Itching to be useful, he felt needed when he cared for the animals. Hardworking Emma reminded him of Mourning Dove and her industrious nature. Always looking for an opportunity, always sharing with her clan, always loving, his wife epitomized the best in his past life. His dead wife. He shook his head. She’s not here, buddy. No matter how hard you look for her, she’s not here. She’s gone to the camp beyond. Tallulah was alive and cared about you, and you drove her away.

  Emma came over to the fence, Steel trailing behind her, nudging the horse trainer’s shoulder for more treats. “Want to take him back to the barn?”

  “Looks like he’s sweet on you. Not sure he’ll let me.”

  “He needs to get used to other people. Don’t worry. He won’t nip—not hard at any rate.” She grinned, and just like that, she was the image of Mourning Dove.

  “When you joke like that, you look just like your great-great-grandmother.” He touched her cheek. “She had a wicked sense of humor and used to poke fun at me all the time.”

  “She learned well from her teasing cousins.” She handed him the reins and began to unlatch the gate. “Here you go.”

  Steel snickered and shook his mane.

  “Aww, don’t worry, baby, he’s family. Old family.” She winked at Lucius.

  A car horn honked as Bert’s van appeared in a cloud of dust.

  He rolled his window down and shouted, “Get in the van. Wellington woke up!”

  “Judge said I’m not supposed to have contact with the victim.”

  “That was before. Now, Otterlegs wants to see if Will identifies you as his attacker.”

  He handed the reins back to Emma. “For Pete’s sake. What about those boys Tallulah found? I thought the Sheriff issued an arrest warrant for them.”

  Bert motioned for him to get in the van. “He did.”

  “Why isn’t Otterlegs going after them?”

  “Bird in the hand is worth two fighting interstate extradition, my friend.”

  “I sure hope Will doesn’t decide to send me up the river.” Lucius shook his head. “I saved that dirty skunk’s life.”

  “Gonna be hard to prove. Let’s just hope he comes clean, tells the truth for once in his life.”

  Lucius shook his head and climbed in. “Rattlesnakes don’t change their tune.”

  Bert hit the gas.

  Thirty minutes later, they sat in the lobby of Saint Vic’s waiting to be escorted up to Will’s room. Used to be, doctors came to a person’s home, made house calls. Before Beautiful banished him to limbo, the town leaders invited him to serve on a committee to plan a hospital. With his hotel expertise, he was able to give them advice on how to build the rooms and what to include in their linen and cleaning inventory. He never imagined it would look anything like this glass and metal space with hard tile floors.

  Visitors signed in at the front desk, asked for directions and wandered off with a dazed look on their faces. Employees with identification badges in long white coats and blue outfits that looked like loose pajamas strode purposefully past him. A few stopped by to say hello to Bert, surprised to see him in town. Each time, he introduced Lucius as his long-lost relative, coming back to Billings to settle down. Not a single person questioned the story. Any friend or family member of Bert or Emma was a friend of theirs, it seemed—except Otterlegs.

  “That little man has it bad for me. I can see it in his eyes.”

  “Short man complex,” Bert explained. “Speak of the devil, here he comes now.”

  The bantam rooster swaggered over to Lucius. “You. Come with me.”

  Bert waggled a finger. “Ah, Deputy, you know the rules. Wherever he goes, I go.”

  “Like a shadow,” Otterlegs sneered.

  “Exactly. And, just like Lamont Cranston, I know what evil lurks in the hearts of men.”

  Who’s Lamont Cranston? Lucius wondered if it was the name of another family member.

  “Whatever.” Otterlegs turned and led them to a bank of doors. “They transferred Mr. Wellington from ICU to a medical floor. He’s very alert and oriented, according to the doctors, perfectly competent to identify his attacker.”

  The bell rang and they stepped into the elevator. Otterlegs jabbed at the sixth-floor button.

  “You mean Wilson, don’t you? Wellington’s an alias.”

  Lucius wondered what his lawyer was up to with this strategy. Seemed a bit like poking the bear.

  Otterlegs squirmed and stared ahead at the numbers. “We are aware of that.”

  “He has a record as long as your arm. Money laundering, tax evasion, irregularities with his fees for his check cashing business—”

  “We know,” Otterlegs snapped. “What’s your point?”

  Bert smiled. “Will—or whatever his real name is—has warrants out for his arrest in four states. You must really want the Sheriff’s job if you’re willing to take his word.”

  The deputy snarled, “If your client’s innocent, you shouldn’t be worrying about that, now should you?” Otterlegs nodded to the uniform sitting outside the door and entered the room.

  Bandages on his head, Will sat upright in bed. A woman with graying hair sat in a chair to the right, holding his hand. When the door opened, they stared at the visitors.

  “Mr. Wellington, do you recognize this man?” Otterlegs pointed at Lucius.

  Will shook his head. “Never saw him before in my life.”

  “Say something,” Otterlegs ordered Lucius.

  “Hello.” Lucius stopped speaking when Bert poked him in the leg.

  Will shook his head. “Like I just told you. Never seen him before.”

  “Get closer to the bed, Stewart. He can’t see you that far away.”

  Lucius looked at Bert for guidance.

  Bert nodded. “Let the record show my client is being cooperative.”

  Lucius stepped to the side of the bed, opposite from the woman whose lips thinned.

  “You know him now, don’t you?” Otterlegs insisted.

  The woman spoke up, anger simmering beneath her civil words, “Deputy, you know my husband isn’t feeling well. You’re not helping. He said he doesn’t know the man.”

  Lucius and Bert exchanged surprised glances. Will had a wife?

  “Mrs. Wellington,” Bert said softly. �
�I believe I know who attacked your husband. Would it be okay if I showed some photos to both of you?”

  “Well, okay, I guess—as long as you don’t take too long. Honey, is it okay with you?”

  Will nodded and motioned for Bert to hand him the phone.

  Lucius glanced at the thug’s pictures as he passed the phone over to Will. “Those are some mean-looking highway men.”

  Will took one look at the mug shots and what little color he had drained from his face. “That’s them. Those are the men Vinnie sent to beat me up because I couldn’t pay the vig.”

  Bert smiled. “Will you be willing to testify to this in court?”

  Will nodded and handed the phone back. “Those two broke my fingers.” He held up a cast encased hand. “They should pay.”

  Otterlegs stamped his feet like Rumpelstiltskin. “You’re lying.”

  Mrs. Wellington pointed at Bert. “You a lawyer?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

  “A very good one,” Lucius added with a note of pride. Family ties don’t get much better than this.

  “Would you be willing to represent my husband?” She opened her purse and pulled out a checkbook. “How much do I need to give you for a retainer? My mother passed recently, which is why I’ve been away from my husband, taking care of her and then her estate. We aren’t millionaires, but we do have money to pay you.”

  “Hand me a dollar.”

  Mrs. Wellington pulled a buck out of her pocket and handed it to Lucius, who passed it along to her husband’s new attorney.

  Bert grinned and jerked his thumb at Otterlegs. “Time for you to leave.”

  Otterlegs sputtered, “What the h—”

  “Attorney-client privilege, you know the rules.”

  Lucius opened the door. “Don’t let it hit you on the way out.”

  The only thing that would make today better is if Tallulah were here.

  ****

  The phone rang for the hundredth time. Tallulah let it roll into voicemail. Again. She had zero desire to speak to anyone in the entire state of Montana—much less anyone from the Billings area code. Sure, she was happy to hear all the charges against Lucius were dropped, and he’d been exonerated. But why didn’t he phone and tell her himself instead of having Bert and Emma call?

 

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