Adam's Thorn

by Angela Verdenius

  A thump sounded from upstairs and she shrugged. Once that window frame was fixed, she’d be a happier person.

  Her hand froze on the appointment book.

  Oh shit, there was no frame to thump, because the frame had been replaced by the carpenters.

  Swallowing, she looked up at the ceiling. Another sound this time, a scraping. Cold prickled down her arms.

  Chapter 7

  Grabbing the trusty broom, Barbie edged up the stairs. All was quiet, nothing stirred. At least it wasn’t dark, the sound of the birds outside, the morning sunlight streaming though the window at the side, the sound of a car passing, all combined to give her courage.

  Ridiculous to feel fear in the middle of the day.

  Taking a tighter grip on the broom, she went up the stairs, treading firmly. At the top, she strode from room to room, flinging open the doors and walking inside. Yep, daylight made her braver, and refusing to think while she did it, pushing back any irrational fear, had her acting with confidence.

  Until she opened the door to the girl’s room, then her heart almost stopped. One of the dolls was lying on the floor, its eyes closed. Looking around, she barely repressed a shiver. The window was shut, nothing else was disturbed on the shelves. Then she spotted the wardrobe with its partially open door.

  Hadn’t she closed it after looking through it the first time?

  Her hold on the broom grew sweaty as she swallowed.

  Don’t freak out. Don’t give in to fear. Just check inside, see that there’s nothing in there but some mouldy old clothes, and shut it securely this time. Be an adult.

  Taking a deep breath, she marched over to the wardrobe and flung the door open. Half of her expected it to be empty, the other half of her expected a horrendous wraith with black holes in place of eyes to come flying out at her.

  Neither happened and she sagged in relief, only to shriek when something landed on her shoulder. Whipping the broom up, she swung around to confront a startled Henry.

  “Whoa.” Holding up his hands, he backed away. “It’s just me.”

  “Oh shit.” Lowering the broom, she placed one hand on her heart, right about where her heart threatened to pound it’s way out of her ribcage. “You scared me.”

  “Not like you did me.” He glanced from her to the broom. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I just heard something, came up to investigate.” Closing the wardrobe door, she gave it an experimental tug, finding it locked firmly in place.

  “No one here but you, the cats, me and the boys.” Henry scratched the back of his head. “Want us to have a look around?” Before she could stop him, he called out, “Shane! Bruce!”

  The painters appeared at the doorway, Bruce greeting her with a smile, Shane with his usual impassive expression.

  “’Morning, Barbie,” Bruce said cheerfully, making it more than obvious that he wasn’t bothered by Adam’s intervention the previous evening.

  “Hi Bruce. Shane.” She looked at Henry, “There’s no need to-”

  “How ‘bout you take a look around outside, Shane. Barbie thought she heard something, gave her a bit of a fright. I’ll check downstairs. Bruce, you take up here.”

  Feeling foolish, Barbie tried to protest, only to have Henry take the broom from her and herd her downstairs. “Now, girlie, you sit and have a cuppa, steady those nerves of yours. I’m sure nothing is here, but old places creak a lot, old furniture becomes unstable. We’ll check around, make sure, okay? There.” Hand on her shoulder, he pushed her down into a chair at the table. “You sit right there while me and the boys check around.”

  Barbie blinked. Was it her imagination or was Henry treating her like a child? A helpless woman?

  Shane went past the kitchen window, and she could hear doors opening and shutting upstairs. Henry’s boots sounded in the hallway. Minutes later, he walked back into the kitchen with Bruce and Shane on his heels.

  “No one here.” He plugged in the kettle with a fatherly air. “Let’s get you a cuppa, love, settle those nerves.”

  Now she felt like a real dill. “Henry, honestly-”

  “Big old house like this makes sounds,” he continued, pulling out four mugs and dumping a tea bag in each, completely at home in her kitchen. “Only natural, but it can sound spooky, especially when you’re alone.”

  Shane leaned against the wall, crossing his booted ankles, while Bruce stood with legs slightly apart, his arms folded across his chest.

  “Old furniture sometimes becomes warped,” Shane stated. “Doors don’t shut properly, things fall off when you least expect it.”

  Regardless of feeling a little stupid, Barbie couldn’t take the image of the doll lying on the floor of a closed room. “What about the doll?”

  “Probably the shelf is starting to come loose from the wall. The carpenters can fix that.”

  “Oh.” Geez. But still… “The scraping noise?”

  “Probably the wardrobe door opening.”

  “Really? Would I hear it?”

  “Where were you when you heard it?” Bruce queried.

  “My work room.”

  “Massage room?”

  “Yes.”

  He smiled. “You’re right under that bedroom.”

  “Okay, but if the wardrobe door was going to fall open, it wouldn’t scrape, would it?” When they just looked at her, she added, “Scraping means it isn’t coming easily, so why would it scrape enough to open?”

  “But it was only partially open,” Shane pointed out. “Which means it did catch and stop.”

  The men all watched her, Henry with a slightly indulgent smile on his face, Shane and Bruce with barely concealed amusement.

  Great, they thought she was a scared female, weak and frightened. No freakin’ way. She started frowning, only to catch the kind light in Henry’s eyes, and with a sigh stifled her irritation. The men hadn’t hesitated in checking the house out for her, and to get irritated because they thought she was a little scared wasn’t a nice way to repay them for their kindness. Definitely not worth getting her knickers in a knot.

  “Okay.” With a shrug, she smiled. “I’m letting my imagination get carried away.”

  “It happens.” Henry poured boiling water into the mugs. “Unless you’re used to old places, they can play tricks on your imagination. Especially a place as big and gloomy as this one.”

  “Won’t be gloomy for long.” Shane took the mug Henry handed to him. “Old wall paper gone, fresh paint, it’ll make a big difference.’

  “Not to mention the carpenters fixing up the wobbly frames,” Bruce added. “Old furniture gone and whatever else you’re going to do to the house. It’ll be good as new and a great place to raise a family.”

  Henry glanced at the clock. “Speaking of which, the carpenters will be here soon, so we better get a move on.” Holding his mug of hot tea, he preceded Shane and Henry out the door.

  Bruce smiled at Barbie as he passed. Shane gave her a long look, a slight frown on his brow as he followed.

  Left alone in the kitchen, she listened to the men tramp upstairs and shook her head. Way to start the day.

  Getting up, she poured milk into her tea, added one sugar and walked out onto the back veranda, cradling the hot mug in her hands as she looked around.

  Quiet, deserted, as though waiting for the sound of people to break the silence.

  A creak had her jumping, only to then shake her head and laugh to herself as the sound of the radio drifted from above. One of the men had opened the window of the room in which they were working.

  She really had to get a grip.

  Turning, her attention was caught by the rose bushes. Without the flowers they didn’t look so cheerful. Sipping on the hot tea, she studied the buses, thinking that she really had to come out and finish trimming them.

  Which bushes were the real graves, which the empty one, and which the mystery one? Angling her head to one side, she decided that either the two furtherest or the two nearest had
to be the real graves, the other two having been added later.

  She really had to go and see Old Man Parker. Walking back inside to get ready for her client, she decided to get his contact details that afternoon and ring him to arrange a meeting. Maybe he could come out to the house, that’d be interesting. He could probably identify some of the people in the old photos.

  The phone rang just as she entered the massage room, and she picked it up to hear Ali on the other end.

  “Hi,” said Ali.

  “Hello. Booking in for a follow-up massage?”

  “Actually, I was wondering, do you do vouchers?”

  “Sure do.”

  “Freakin’ fantastic. How about something for Saturday, that being tomorrow?”

  “Sure, I’ve go no clients tomorrow. What do you want and what time?”

  By the time the phone call was ended, Barbie was biting her lip.

  Oh shit.

  When it rang less than five minutes later, she answered it. This time when she hung up, the telephone cord was wrapped so tightly around her finger that she’d cut off the circulation.

  Oh double shit.

  ~*~

  His rostered weekend off. Ah, he loved it…or should have loved it. It was his birthday, his weekend off, the day was spring warm, the time of year he enjoyed. Peaceful, quiet.

  And then his friends had sprung his surprise birthday present on him.

  Adam could have killed them.

  His four friends beamed at him as he stood in Ghost’s kitchen holding the voucher in his hands with all the enthusiasm of holding a bomb. The bloody thing was almost burning a hole in his tight grip.

  “A massage,” he said.

  Ali nodded brightly. “You’ve been so tense lately.”

  “Tense,” Matt echoed.

  “We didn’t know what to get you,” Lori added.

  “Nope.” Ghost shook his head. “Not a clue.’

  “Then we got to chatting,” Ali continued.

  “Chatting.” Matt nodded.

  “This seemed ideal.”

  “Ideal,” Matt agreed. “Yes, sir.”

  “A massage.” Now, Ghost and Matt he could believe would have thought of this, it was just the sort of thing that would occur to their warped sense of humour. Hell, he could even believe it of Ali at a stretch, but Lori? He pinned her with his narrow-eyed gaze.

  She busied herself plugging in the kettle. Then she got out the mugs. Milk from the ‘fridge. He followed her every step. She wouldn’t look at him.

  Soft hands touched his arm and he looked down into Ali’s smiling face. “You like it, don’t you?”

  Like it? He felt like shoving the voucher down Matt’s throat, especially when his arsehole friend piped up, “Yeah, you like it, don’t you?”

  “It’s…unusual,” he managed to grind out from between clenched teeth.

  Ghost smiled broadly. “Isn’t it? Just the thing for all that tension, man.” He clapped Adam on the shoulder, chortling.

  “I’m just not sure-” Adam began, only to be stopped by Lori’s guileless gaze when she looked up at him.

  Uncertainty clouded her normally serene eyes. “I knew it. I knew it wasn’t the thing to do.”

  “Oh, love, it’s all right.” Crossing quickly to her side, Matt took the bottle of milk from her hands. “He loves it. You love it, right, Adam?”

  Now he felt like a louse. Lori was watching him unhappily and the smile had left Ali’s mouth.

  Jesus. Women. Matt and Ghost he didn’t give a rats arse about, he knew how they ticked, but he’d always had a soft spot for the girls with whom he’d grown up, and that meant… He heaved a silent sigh.

  “It’s not that,” he said soothingly to Lori while patting Ali’s shoulder. “I just…I’m not used to massages.”

  “What?” Ghost’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “Never?”

  Oh boy, he was going to enjoy burying his boot up that bastard’s arse later.

  “No.” Adam’s grin was tight.

  “Then this’ll be a real surprise.” Ali’s smile was back.

  Lori, bless her tender heart, didn’t look so certain. “I’m sure we can get the money back, Adam, It’s fine, really.”

  “Lori, its okay.” He smiled at her even as he cringed inside. “It’s just what I need. A massage.”

  “Yeah.” Matt said seriously, his eyes dancing wickedly. “Not good for a cop to be too tense, not when he has a taser strapped to his thigh.”

  The taser was looking mighty tempting. Man, he’d love to give Matt and Ghost a bloody good jolt with it. Fantasies aside…

  Putting his arm around Ali’s shoulders, he gave her a quick hug. “Its fine, Ali. I like it. Really.”

  “Great,” Ghost enthused. “You’re booked in for eleven o’clock.”

  “What?”

  “Today’s your lucky day, birthday boy.” Matt laid his chin on Lori’s shoulder from where he stood behind her, one arm around her waist. “Your birthday massage is all booked in. In fact,” he glanced at the clock on the wall, “you might want to get moving soon.”

  Oh yeah, he was going to kill his friends later. Not the girls, of course, but the boys - they were dead.

  So here he stood outside the Declan house a half hour later, the voucher in his hand, his fingers gripping the car door hard enough that his knuckles were almost white.

  Those bastards were so dead.

  The only thing moving in the house was Fred sitting in the window balefully surveying the world.

  Inside was Barbie Declan, with her luscious curves and supple hands, waiting to give him a back and shoulder massage.

  Not that it was an abhorrent thought, those soft hands on his skin. In fact, it had his heart rate picking up a little. Just a little. That was the problem; he didn’t know what to think. Why should the thought of Barbie touching him make him feel anything? What was going on?

  Just like he didn’t know what had come over him the night at the pub when he’d insinuated himself between Bruce and Barbie. Yes, it was partly because he could see that she wasn’t happy to have Bruce trying to hold her close, but it was also because Adam didn’t like seeing Bruce trying to hold her close.

  He’d sure as shit liked the feel of her in his own arms, though. She’d felt so right when he’d cradled her close. He’d had some very erotic dreams involving those curves that night in bed.

  But this was different.

  Yes, very different. He dragged his thoughts from his increasingly lustful musings. Barbie was a professional; she was used to massaging men, running her hands over their skin and kneading sore muscles. One thing she wouldn’t be thinking while doing it, was lustful thoughts.

  In fact, he was surprised she’d even agreed to do him. That just proved what a professional she was. Hell, he was cop, he was a professional, too. Yeah, he was a cop, she was a masseuse, he had a stressful job, and she eased stress. Kind of like a doctor. He nodded determinedly. Just keep thinking that, Adam.

  Taking a deep breath, he beeped the car lock before pocketing the keys and striding to the house, jumping up on the veranda to knock at the door, holding the voucher between his fingers.

  Barbie appeared from a small side room, the one he knew she used for massaging. Crossing to the door, she opened it, a pleasant smile on her face. “Adam. Come in.”

  She turned and led him back to the room. Right, she was dressed like a professional. Good. Neat uniform-style dress, collar, zip down the front, two pockets. Almost nurse-like. Good. Flat pair of while ballet flats on her feet. Hair up in a ponytail. Very professional. Very good.

  She looked cool, calm, poised. Professional.

  He wondered what she’d look like with that zipper down to her waist, her hair all mussed, bent over the table with that dress pulled up to her to - Jesus!

  Adam took a deep breath, thanking God he could keep his expression bland, drawing on his inner composure.

  “You can hang your shirt on the hook at the back of the do
or.” Picking up a gas lighter, Barbie lit several candles in the room, the scent of sandalwood filling the air.

  Her hands didn’t tremble. Okay, she was calm. Just like him. This was good.

  Adam slid out of his shirt and hung it on the hook at the back of the door.

  “Put your shoes and socks under the chair,” she continued, sliding a disc into the small CD player. “Pants and under clothes you can fold and put on the seat.”

  Wait. What? Adam actually blinked.

  “Then lie face down on the table and relax.” She switched on the CD player, the room filling immediately with the soft sounds of the ocean.

  He didn’t give a shit about that. “Take off my what?”

  “Your clothes.” She glanced at him over her shoulder, her gaze cool. Detached. “I’ll leave the room to give you time to get ready. There’s a towel on the table you can drape over yourself.”

  Drape? He stared at her, then, like a dummy, held up the voucher.

  “Yes,” she said coolly, taking it from him by the tips of her fingers. “Full body massage. I’ll be back shortly.”

  His mind remained blank right up until the door clicked shut behind her, then he slumped down, bracing his hands on his knees, letting out a low, harsh breath. Full body massage? He was going to bloody kill them! Those bastards!

  His mind buzzed. Barbie’s hands all over him? No clothes? Bare-arsed naked on the table? Not freakin’ likely. No bloody way. Just the thought had his hands clenching.

  And heat pooling in his loins.

  No freakin’ way!

  Just as he was trying to think of a way to gracefully back out of the whole shitty arrangement without hurting Ali and Lori, not to mention offending Barbie, there was a knock on the door. “Are you ready?”

  Far from it. He opened his mouth to tell her that this wasn’t going t happen, when she asked, “Are you all right?”

  She sounded so cool, so in control.

  So professional.

  Maybe it was just him that was self-conscious. Shit, she probably saw naked bodies every day. Or almost naked. This wasn’t anything new for her.