Sinister Sanctuary: A Ghost Story Romance & Mystery (Wicks Hollow Book 4)
Page 25
“It was brilliant,” she said. “That’s what ultimately brought help. By the time we got off the lighthouse and came down to find Misty out cold on one of the landings, the Coast Guard had already called Joe Cap because they recognized the signal was coming from the lighthouse. He’d just reached Oscar’s stuck Jeep when we called in ourselves.”
“So what was the deal with the green and blue boat? Did that have anything to do with this whole mess?” Declan asked.
“Yes,” Oscar said. “But only that first day. Misty and Rob had figured out the basic location of the shipwreck, and they were dropping off some supplies to mark off the location underwater. Tape and stakes and some other tools that would help them in their dive. Apparently it was too heavy and bulky to try to bring down there from a shore dive.”
“What I don’t understand,” said Orbra, refilling their pots with hot water, “is why it took them so long. Didn’t Stuart Millore die three years ago? Why did they just get started now?”
“Well, once they realized the diary entry was a good indication of the basic area where the ship went down, they still had to find it,” Teddy said. “And in order to find it, they had to have money for equipment. So it took them a while to gather up the funds, and then even longer for them to dive. And you can’t really dive in Lake Michigan from October through April, even with a wetsuit.”
“Well, that’s one hell of a story,” Maxine said. “Good thing I told you how to make the lantern light work, there, young man. Or you’d probably not be sitting here.”
“Right,” Oscar replied with a grin twitching his mouth. “I appreciated your instructions when we were up there that day.”
Maxine whipped a sharp look at him. “You aren’t patronizing me are you, there, young man?” Her dark eyes were sharp and eagle-like.
“No, of course not. If you hadn’t given me a lecture—I mean, all the information—about how to make the light go on, I probably wouldn’t have thought to try,” Oscar said quickly. His face was a little ruddier now.
Teddy chuckled. “Between Oscar’s quick thinking and Stuart Millore’s ghost, I’d say everything worked out as well as it could.”
Conversation went on to other things, and just as Teddy was about to rise to leave, Iva said, “Wait a minute there, dear. I have a book I’d like you to sign.”
“Me too,” said Leslie eagerly, sliding her chair over next to Iva and Teddy. She dug in her bag and produced an old, well-read paperback novel.
Iva did the same with a different paperback not quite as worn and creased. Both covers, though different, were decorated with lurid golds, pinks, and shiny metallic foil.
Now it was time for Teddy’s face to turn a little warm. “Oh.” She didn’t look at Oscar.
“What’s this going on here?” Maxine snatched up Leslie’s book and read, “Love’s Forbidden Caress? By Theodora Mackenzie.” She swept those eagle eyes up to Teddy as Juanita snatched up Iva’s book. “You write this, missy?” Before Teddy could reply, Maxine said, “Looks damned good. Nice and sexy. You got any more of them?”
“That one’s about a blacksmith,” Iva said. “It’s one of Leslie’s favorite books—and I’m certain part of the reason she fell head over heels for Declan here. This one here—mine—that one’s about a grumpy duke who falls for a sassy governess. They’re both very sexy, but also funny and suspenseful. And romantic.” Her eyes turned a little misty. “It reminds me of when my dear Hollis and I— Well, never mind.” She looked at Teddy. “You’ll sign them, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Teddy said, using the opportunity to dig in her bag for a Sharpie instead of looking at Oscar. Not that she really cared what he thought about the fact that she’d written some romance novels, but he was, after all, a scholar. A PhD at Princeton. And…well, he’d just have to deal with it. She glanced up at him once she had the Sharpie, and to her surprise, he didn’t seem the least bit shocked or otherwise put off by the knowledge.
“How did you—uh—figure it out?” she asked Iva as she signed her pen name.
“I’m a librarian, dear. I know everything.”
The next day, Teddy and Oscar made their final trip to the hot springs.
“It’s only fitting that we end our little sojourn here the way we began it, don’t you think?” Teddy asked as she slipped into the pool. “Mmmmm.”
“Definitely.” He climbed in next to her, his bandaged wrist wrapped in plastic to protect it from the water. “So,” he said, lounging back against the rocky wall, “you write romance novels too?”
“I knew this was coming.” She sighed, tipping her head back so the cool water from the small falls dampened her hair.
“What was coming? I think it’s interesting and laudable that you can write in two different genres.”
Teddy’s eyes popped open and she sat up abruptly. “You do?”
“Well, yes. They’re very different styles of writing.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes. And…?”
“And…nothing.” He tried to look innocent, but she saw through it.
Teddy eyed him for a minute. “Come on, Oscar, spill.”
“All right.” He slouched down in the pool a little more. “My grandmother and her friends used to read Harlequin Romances, and when I went to stay with her one summer, I read a few of them.”
“A few?”
He shrugged. “Well, it was either that and Agatha Christie, or War and Peace, Dickens, and Shakespeare. And I’d had enough of that in school. So, I’m just saying, I think it’s admirable that you can write in two different genres.”
“Thank you.” She watched him for a minute longer. “That must be why you didn’t get all embarrassed when the Tuesday Ladies were talking about jumping bones and getting laid.”
He laughed. “Well, let’s just say, my granny was a feisty, hotblooded woman. Maxine Took reminds me a lot of her, actually. I like her.” He slipped further into the water and surged over to her in the small pool. “I’m guessing you need to do a lot of research for those books.” He waggled his eyebrows as he took her by the shoulders, the plastic on his right hand crinkling softly. “I mean, where else do you get your ideas?”
Teddy rolled her eyes and pushed him away playfully. “Oh, I’ve never heard that one before.”
“Oh.” He seemed genuinely crestfallen.
She laughed heartily at his sadness. “Oscar, I get my ideas for sex scenes—as you so delicately refused to specify—the same way I get my ideas for how to murder someone, or how to hijack a plane, or how to poison an entire city: from my imagination. Not by actually doing it.”
“Oh,” he said again, easing back to his side of the pool. Still with the puppy-dog face.
She took pity on him. “But, you know, I was just thinking…when I do write another historical romance, maybe I should write one about a man who seduces a woman in a hot-springs pool in the middle of a forest. And in that case…inspiration always helps.” She gave him a sly look.
He surged back closer. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Teddy laughed and pulled him up to her for a hot, damp kiss. “I adore you, Dr. London.”
“I adore you too, Theodora MacKenzie.”
She laughed against his mouth, then settled back, putting space between them again. “You never did find out about those crystalline microbes in this pool, did you?”
“No. They seem to have been an anomaly to this particular ecosystem. And in my most recent samples—yesterday—they were nonexistent.” He began to nibble along her jaw, and she closed her eyes to enjoy. Then they popped open.
“You know, Oscar, maybe that’s why this pool has sacred or magical or special abilities—those crystalline microbes might be the cause of it.”
“What?” he pulled away, giving her a strange look. “That’s ridiculous.”
“That,” she said, sitting up straight, “is what you said about the ghost.”
“Mmmph.”
“After all,” she said, “
I got in this pool and I ended up with my heart’s desire—exactly what I wanted: getting my book done and then getting you.”
“Plus a real ghost.”
He surprised a laugh out of her, and she kissed him on the cheek in appreciation. “Yes, that too. Plus, I guess I should consider it research to know what it’s like to be in a life-and-death, harrowing, and violent situation. Not that I ever thought that was my heart’s desire.” Then she looked at him speculatively. “And, actually, if you think about it, you got your heart’s desire too. When you got in the pool, your heart’s desire was to get Marcie back. Don’t deny it,” she said quickly when he opened his mouth. “You know it’s true.”
He shook his head. “No. Remember what you were saying before—about only thinking you knew what your true heart’s desire was? That was true for me when I got into this pool—sacred or magical or not—the first time. But, in the end, I really did get my heart’s desire.”
He was looking at her so tenderly that she didn’t even need for him to say the words that were coming next.
But it would be nice to hear.
And then he said, “I got to run a light at the top of a lighthouse. That’s always been my—”
She dunked him.
Oscar came up sputtering, but grinning, and he dove toward her. He pulled her into his arms, careful of his plastic-wrapped hand. His eyes softened. “Teddy, I had no idea until I met you, but you—only you—are my heart’s desire.”
After a very long, loving kiss, Teddy pulled back. She was smiling. “Then I guess I was right about two things.”
“Two things?”
“First, there was a real ghost. And secondly—this hot-springs pool is special. Because we both got our heart’s desire. And maybe—just maybe—that’s why the crystalline microbes are gone now!”
Oscar shook his head, giving her an affectionate smile even as he rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Teddy, that’s not how science works.”
“That’s because it’s not science, Oscar. It’s something else. After all, this is Wicks Hollow.”
Don’t let announcements and news get stuck in
your spam folder! Sign up for SMS/Text messages and help keep your inbox uncluttered.
Not sure how? Here’s a cheat sheet diagram:
About the Author
Colleen Gleason is an award-winning, New York Times and USA Today best-selling author. She’s written more than forty novels in a variety of genres—truly, something for everyone!
She loves to hear from readers, so feel free to find her online and say hi!
Get SMS/Text alerts for any
New Releases or Promotions!
Text: COLLEEN to 38470
(You will only receive a single message when Colleen has a new release or title on sale. We promise.)
If you would like SMS/Text alerts for any Events or book signings Colleen is attending,
Text: MEET to 38470
Subscribe to Colleen’s non-spam newsletter for other updates, news, sneak peeks, and special offers!
http://cgbks.com/news
Connect with Colleen online:
www.colleengleason.com
books@colleengleason.com
Also by Colleen Gleason
The Gardella Vampire Hunters
Victoria
The Rest Falls Away
Rises the Night
The Bleeding Dusk
When Twilight Burns
As Shadows Fade
Macey/Max Denton
Roaring Midnight
Raging Dawn
Roaring Shadows
Raging Winter
Roaring Dawn
The Draculia Vampire Trilogy
The Vampire Voss: Dark Rogue
The Vampire Dimitri: Dark Saint
The Vampire Narcise: Dark Vixen
Wicks Hollow Series
Ghost Story Romance & Mystery
Sinister Summer
Sinister Secrets
Sinister Shadows
Sinister Sanctuary
Stoker & Holmes Books
(for ages 12-adult)
The Clockwork Scarab
The Spiritglass Charade
The Chess Queen Enigma
The Carnelian Crow
The Lincoln’s White House Mystery Series
(writing as C. M. Gleason)
Murder in the Lincoln White House
Murder in the Oval Library
The Marina Alexander Adventure Novels
(writing as C. M. Gleason)
Siberian Treasure
Amazon Roulette
Writing as Alex Mandon
The Belle-Époque Mystery series
Murder on the Champs-Élysées