“This isn’t your fault,” I said. “Besides, isn’t it your mother’s job to be forgiving?”
“Not when it comes to her car. I’d rather take my chances with the sicko.” Thorn sagged against the door and rubbed her forehead. “I’ll have to report this to the insurance company or the police.”
“Then we’d be stuck here for hours filling out papers and answering questions,” Dominic pointed out.
“And the sicko wins because we’ll have to leave town without talking to Eleanor Baskers,” I added glumly.
“Do you think that’s what this is about?” Thorn asked. “Someone wants to prevent us from talking to Mrs. Baskers?”
“Well it isn’t going to work because I’m not giving up,” I vowed.
“But what about my jeep?” Thorn asked, spreading out her hands in a frustrated gesture. “How am I going to fix it?”
“Leave it to me.” Dominic stepped forward. He went around to the bed of his truck and came back with a plastic bag. Carefully, he placed the knife in the bag. Then he offered to handle the repairs to Thorn’s car.
“Since when do you know about cars?” I faced him with my hands on my hips. “I thought you only knew about animals.”
“Stick around and learn more.” With a wink, he turned and pulled out his cell phone.
While he was talking to some “pal” in the auto business, I studied him. Why did he make me feel so uneasy? He’d been nothing but helpful, yet I still didn’t feel comfortable around him. Like there was something unspoken between us.
Frustrated, I turned away and glanced around over at the clubhouse. The large picture window offered a clear view of the lot. Had someone inside witnessed the vandalism?
Dominic was still talking on the phone, pausing now and then to ask Thorn questions about her car. They didn’t notice when I slipped away to the clubhouse.
When I entered the overly warm, stuffy room, I was disappointed to find it nearly deserted. The TV was off and there weren’t any card players. A hunched man sat at a chair near the window, which would have given him a clear view of the parking lot. Only as I started toward him, I saw his white cane and the Braille book he was touch reading. The only other people around were two women chatting as they crocheted and a silverhaired man working a crossword puzzle. But none of them were anywhere near the window.
Discouraged, I turned to leave, until my gaze fell on the man quietly working a crossword puzzle. He wore a jaunty naval cap with impressive emblems—the sort a retired admiral might wear. Curiously, I stepped closer.
He looked about old enough to be Chloe’s fiancé. And his blue-and-dark-orange aura vibrated with a strong sense of strength and confidence. But how could I find out for sure? You just didn’t walk up to a stranger and ask him if he’d been engaged to a ghost.
While I tried to come up with a good opening, he swiveled in his chair to look directly at me. “Young woman, if you have business to discuss, please state it swiftly and succinctly so I can go on with my crossword. I find being stared at quite disconcerting.”
“I didn’t mean to stare,” I said with a flush.
“The most well-meaning individuals are usually the most intrusive.”
“I’m sorry … but are you Theodore?”
“Retired Admiral Theodore Alexander Viscente or Teddy to my friends,” he said in a clipped tone. His blue eyes were faded with age, but there was a sharpness to his gaze that made me lift my shoulders and snap to attention. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“I heard about you.” I clasped my hands. “Weren’t you engaged once to Chloe … the ghost?”
“Humph! All this ghost nonsense is an insult to her memory.” He tapped so hard on his pencil the lead point broke. “As a rule, I don’t discuss her, but I’m tired of how this town glorified her death rather than her short life. She was a beautiful, sweet girl and if she hadn’t died tragically, she would have been my wife.”
“It must have been really hard for you,” I said sympathetically.
“It’s been over fifty years, water under this old bridge. Life goes on.”
“But you must have loved her deeply.”
“She was the only one for me and always will be.” He paused to regard me sharply. “So why the third degree? You’re too young to be with the media.”
I bristled at being called too young, but hid my annoyance with a shrug. “I’m just curious about Chloe.”
“A lot more than curiosity brought you all the way out here. Most folks in Pine Peaks tend to forget we old geezers exist.”
“I’m just visiting. I had hoped to see Eleanor Baskers—she’s a … relative, only she isn’t back yet. I read Chloe’s biography, and I’m surprised there’s no mention of your engagement.”
“That book is full of inaccuracies. Any fool can write a book, and Kasper has to be the biggest idiot I’ve ever met. An outsider like him has no right to present himself as the authority on Chloe. He never even met her.”
“But he knows all about ghosts,” I said.
“So he’s a nutcase like the others who flock here every October. What a lot of rot.” He snorted with disgust. “If ghosts were real, don’t you think Chloe would have shown herself to me?”
“Well—I guess.”
“Of course she would. I was very close to her parents, too and I have yet to be visited by their ghosts. They treated me like a son and there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for them.”
“Then why was the engagement a secret?”
“It wasn’t my idea, I assure you.” He folded the corner of his crossword puzzle page with his gnarled hands. “Chloe was full of spirit and not in a rush to settle down. So we agreed to wait until after her graduation before formally announcing our engagement. But before that could happen …” His hands dropped to his sides.
“She died,” I finished sadly.
He lifted his head with a challenging gaze. “I suppose you believe the stories about her falling for a stranger and planning to run away with him?”
“Isn’t that what happened?”
“More rot and rubbish.”
“She didn’t fall in love with James?”
“Chloe had many admirers. She was so beautiful, you only had to look at her to fall in love. She may have danced with James, but I was the man she planned to marry. He meant nothing to her.”
“So you knew him?”
“No. I wasn’t much of a dancer and never went to the pavilion. But I was told he only stayed a short time.” Theodore’s lips pressed into a thin line. “No one knows where he went, but good riddance. He deserved whatever he got.”
“What do you think happened to him?” I asked with a shiver.
“I have no idea, nor do I care. Don’t believe everything you hear or read about Chloe. Only those truly close to her know the truth.” He wagged his finger at me, then scribbled an answer in his puzzle.
But what was the truth? I wondered as I slowly walked away. My dream of Chloe replayed in my mind. She’d looked so radiant as she danced in James’s arms. I sensed her excitement and passion. Chloe may have been engaged to Theodore, but it was James that she loved.
Had James loved her back? What had they argued about on the cliff? Or had that been someone else with her? What did it all mean?
I wasn’t sure if James stood Chloe up or somehow caused her death. But the one fact that seemed clear was that James had vanished that night, too. Why hadn’t anyone ever heard from him again? Chloe seemed to think he was still around, and maybe she was right. An ugly suspicion twisted like a knife in my soul.
Had James really left that fateful night? I wondered. Or was he buried nearby in an unmarked grave? Had James been murdered?
“What are you doing?” I asked Thorn when I returned to the jeep and saw her cradling the knife in her hands, staring down with zombie-like concentration. Her eyes were half-closed, unblinking, and her aura shimmered lavender and silver.
“Shhhh,” Dominic cautioned, putting his fi
nger to his lips as he came up beside me. “Don’t startle her. She’s been like that for ten minutes.”
I nodded with understanding. “She’s finding.”
Leaning against the jeep with his arms folded, Dominic regarded me curiously. “How does it work?”
“She touches something and gets mental pictures about it.”
“Like your visions?”
“Not really. I get confusing glimpses of the past or future and I have no control when it’ll happen. But Thorn can get vibes on almost anything she focuses on.”
“Oh,” he said with a nod. “Psychometry.”
“How’d you know about that?”
“Library books. I read a lot.”
“You do?”
“Don’t look so shocked.”
“I’m not. It’s just that you’re always working outside.”
“A guy has to work all his muscles. Including this one.” Dominic tapped his head, smiling as if he enjoyed surprising me.
And I was surprised, but not because he was smart. I already knew that. What I hadn’t expected was how his smile warmed me. And the fresh scent of his hair reminded me of wild grasses deep in the woods. A sandy blond curl stuck out unevenly by his ear and I had the urge to smooth it. Instead, I self-consciously smoothed my own hair.
He glanced expectantly at me, as if waiting. For what? I had no idea. Instead, I turned toward Thorn who was still transfixed by the knife.
Dominic followed my gaze. “How long does she usually take?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve only seen her do this a few times.”
“As long as it works.” He walked over to the jeep and ran his hand over the punctured canvas top. “I want to find the jerk who did this.”
“Me, too. It’s creepy having an unknown enemy.”
“Don’t let him scare you. Only cowards leave threats.”
I nodded, but I was still uneasy. This note brought back ugly memories from last year at Arcadia High—when everyone turned against me after that boy died. My locker was vandalized, the tires of my bike slashed, and I’d gotten notes far worse than this. I’d thought all the hate and fear was behind me, but I’d already made an enemy in Evan Marshall and now this note. A subtle enemy was far more dangerous. Not knowing who to watch out for put me on edge.
“Glass.” Thorn broke the silence, suddenly lifting her head up. “Shiny glass.”
Dominic and I rushed over to her.
“What did you see?” I gently laid my hand on Thorn’s shoulder.
“The knife surrounded by glass … on display, I think, in a case.”
“Where?” Dominic asked.
Thorn blinked. “A glass shelf—no, a countertop with a lot of people—near a cash register.”
“A store?” Dominic guessed.
“Yeah, that’s right. I can see the building even—it’s brick and there’s a velvet painting of dogs on the wall. It feels close.” Excitedly, Thorn grabbed Dominic’s hand. “Let’s take your truck.”
Most guys would have asked more questions, but Dominic seemed to get it. Without hesitation, he whipped out his keys and led us to his truck. After buckling up, he turned to Thorn for directions.
“That way,” Thorn said, cradling the knife in one hand while pointing with the other. Energy sizzled from her, as if she was on fire inside.
Gloomy clouds had rolled into Pine Peaks and a brisk wind scuttled brittle leaves across pavement. Skeletal trees lining Main Street were as bare as the sidewalks, making the usually bustling town seem eerie and deserted.
We easily found a parking space in front of a sporting store called The Great Outdoors. Hunting supplies crowded a window display—camouflage jackets, sturdy boots, bows and arrows, and razor-edged knives. Although this store was the most logical destination, Thorn shook her head like a sleepwalker and continued down the sidewalk, clutching a bag containing the knife. We passed Bubba’s Barbershop, High Peaks Realtors, Tansy’s Trinkets, The Chloe Museum, and Glittermania before Thorn led us inside a square, brick store called Golden Oldies.
“Here?” Dominic and I looked at a display window with knickknacks and a mannequin sporting stylish secondhand clothes.
“Yeah,” Thorn seemed to lose her energy and sank down in a bench on the sidewalk. “I need to sit for a minute. Go inside and look for a glass case of jewelry and old coins.”
“We’ll be right back,” I told her.
Dominic nodded, then we pushed through the wood door.
A clerk wearing a diamond in her belly button and low-riding jeans noticed us right away. Or more accurately—she noticed Dominic. The badge on her vest identified her as Assistant Manager, Tawnya.
“Hi there,” she said with a smile that widened as she checked him out. “What can I do for you?”
Dominic lifted the knife from the bag and laid it on the glass counter. “We found this on the sidewalk in front of your store.”
“No kidding?” Her eyes widened. “Usually tourists just lose keys. First time anyone’s lost a knife.”
“You recognize it?” he said, pointing to the golden hilt and sharp silver blade.
“It looks familiar—but you don’t. I remember all my interesting customers.” She leaned across the counter, all smiley and fluttery lashes, reminding me of a sleek feline on the prowl. “You here for the celebration?”
“Uh …” He paused, then nodded. “Yeah.”
“Figures,” she said as if disappointed. “Another ghost chaser. Around here Chloe is like an American Idol. I used to be a fan, too, but that was before—”
“About this knife.” Dominic interrupted. “Any idea who owns it?”
“I have an idea who used to own it.”
“Who?” I asked.
She ignored me, totally focused on Dominic as she ran her finger over the knife’s hilt. “See this tiny R etched into the handle? Means it’s from the Rafferty Estate. But he died and we sold his stuff months ago.”
“Can you find out who bought this?”
“Our records aren’t open to the public.”
“Oh,” Dominic said disappointed.
She winked at him. “But I can check—for you.”
Dominic’s face reddened. “Uh … thanks.”
“No prob. I’m happy to serve my customers.” She fluttered her purple, glittered lashes, smiling at Dominic in a flirty way that made me want to gag. Could she be more obvious?
She never stopped ogling Dominic as she booted up a computer. “Yeah, it was from the Rafferty estate and sold over five months ago.”
“That long?” Dominic knitted his brows. “Who bought it?”
“No way of telling since they paid cash. Records only show date sold and items purchased.”
“What else was bought?” he asked.
“Weird stuff.” She tapped a pink-tipped fingernail on the computer screen. “A fake fur rug, goldfish bowl, and a size-six ladies’ shoe.”
“Only one shoe?” Dominic raised his brows.
“Maybe someone with only one leg. If I find out more, I’ll let you know. Leave me your number.” She paused to look at me for the first time. “That is, if your girlfriend doesn’t mind.”
“I’m not his—I mean—”
Dominic patted my arm affectionately. “She doesn’t mind.”
My face flamed and I lost the ability to speak. Why didn’t he correct her? How could anyone think we were dating?
But Dominic simply pulled a pen from his pocket and jotted down his number. She picked up the paper with a sly smile, and then she turned to me. “Hope you know how lucky you are.”
“Oh, I know all right.” I shot Dominic an annoyed look.
“You’ve got a great guy here.”
“Yeah, just great.”
My sarcasm seemed lost on Tawnya. Instead, an odd look crossed her face and she gestured for me to come closer. “Can we talk for a moment alone?” she asked. “There’s something you need to know.”
“Uh … sure.” Puzzle
d, I glanced at Dominic. He shrugged, then offered to step outside.
“I’ve got to warn you,” Tawnya spoke in a hushed tone. “About the celebration tonight.”
“What about it?”
“You should talk your boyfriend out of going.”
I started to set her straight about Dominic and our relationship, but the anxiety in her tone changed my mind. I’d find out more by saying less. “Why?”
“It’s not safe for cute guys. If he goes, watch out for him. He reminds me of my ex-boyfriend Leon and that could mean trouble if he gets near the ghost.”
“What do you mean?”
“Chloe has everyone fooled, but I know she’s dangerous.”
My heart quickened. “How?”
“Because of Leon. He was a Chloe fan, too—until she tried to kill him.”
The store’s door banged shut and a chilly wind whipped around me. As I struggled to tame my hair, I heard a crinkling sound and glanced up at the “Chloe Celebration” banner. Wind-torn and ragged, it flapped overhead like a battered bird.
I expected to find Dominic and Thorn on the bench, but it was empty. I glanced around and spotted them in Dominic’s truck.
As I crossed the street, I couldn’t stop thinking about Chloe. Was she a tragic victim or a dangerous spirit? According to Tawnya, the ghost lured her ex-boyfriend to an isolated cliff. He grew dizzy, like he was in a trance. Then he stumbled as if someone pushed him and he started to fall over the cliff. If he hadn’t grabbed onto an old tree, he would have died. His friends finally heard his frantic shouts, but no one believed a ghost attacked him. They accused him of drinking too much and being clumsy.
Tawnya admitted that he was clumsy and he did drink too much. But she believed his story. I wasn’t sure if I did—but I wouldn’t forget it. Was he the guy I’d seen falling in my dream vision? The more I found out about Chloe, the sooner I wanted to leave town.
A short while later, Dominic was talking to a mechanic, a thirty-something guy with a long skinny beard and the odd nickname of “Goat,” who agreed to pick up Thorn’s jeep and have it repaired by tomorrow morning.
I glanced at my watch and groaned. Almost three already. There was no way I’d make it back in time for the dance. With a sigh, I went to make two calls.
Last Dance Page 9