JanesPrize

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JanesPrize Page 9

by Margrett Dawson


  “Not one bit. I saw a great offer on a trip to Mexico in the fall. I think I’d like to try it.”

  “I see,” she said again. “That’s great, Mom. I think you should do that.”

  “You do look tired, dear. Why don’t you pop off to bed and I’ll finish watching the news. Dr. Ruth’s on next. She’s talking about sex over fifty.”

  “Really?” It was true. Her mother wasn’t yet sixty. Jane had never thought of her as a sexual being. It made her feel a bit strange.

  She heaved herself to her feet. Maybe tomorrow it wouldn’t feel so odd. “Goodnight, Mom.”

  “Goodnight, dear.”

  Jane trudged up the stairs to the renewed sound of the TV. “That was easy,” she muttered. In fact everything had been easy. The wicked stepmother hadn’t appeared to kill off Pierce. The police officer hadn’t insisted on ID. Her mom would quite like to have her house and her life back. Now all Jane had to do was to enlist Annice’s help to get Pierce some ID.

  Piece of cake.

  Chapter Nine

  Much to her surprise Jane slept reasonably well. In fact she rolled into bed after giving her teeth a quick scrub and deciding she had no energy to shower, then slept like the dead.

  She woke at first light, disoriented for a moment. She stretched out a hand for Pierce and remembered her refusal to sleep with him. She would have liked to wake with him by her side, solid and warm, ready to make love again. Only three days and he already belonged in her bed. She reminded herself there was supposed to be more to life than sex but she wasn’t convinced.

  But maybe abstinence was a good thing. She ran her hands down her sides and felt the quiver in response. Her body was refreshed by the hours of rest and she was already looking forward to breaking her sexual fast.

  She stretched full length and wondered what Pierce was doing. Probably thinking about breakfast. The motel offered free coffee and bagels in the morning so he’d keep body and soul together.

  Full of energy, she sprang from the bed and headed for the shower.

  A half hour later, clean and scented with body lotion and shampoo, she headed downstairs to the aroma of coffee.

  As she poured herself a cup she heard the shower in her mother’s bathroom. The phone rang. The sound of the water stopped immediately and before she could reach the handset on the wall her mother had picked up.

  She shrugged and sipped her coffee. Probably one of the gardening clique or the book club.

  Her mother came into the kitchen a few minutes later, a flush on her cheeks. Just for something to say, Jane asked who had been calling so early.

  Her mother’s color deepened and she busied herself with the coffee pot. “A friend.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  “No, we met quite recently.”

  Jane turned with interest and saw the blush and the coy look. “Mom! It’s a guy!”

  “A gentleman, yes.”

  “Are you dating him?”

  “Not exactly. We thought we might take a trip out to the beach and have lunch.”

  “That’s a date!” She flung an arm ‘round her mother. “I’m pleased for you, Mom. Is he good-looking?”

  “Of course. He’s tall.”

  “Tall is good.”

  “He dresses very well.”

  “Even better.”

  “His name is James.” Not Jim, James.

  “I see.”

  “I like him.”

  Jane kissed her mother’s cheek. “Sounds great, I’d like to meet him.” She glanced at the wall clock. “Gotta go. Tell me all about it later.”

  Annice was already in the coffee shop, stirring a foaming cappuccino. Jane ordered a latte and sat down.

  “Let’s get right to it,” Annice began. “Pierce looks exactly like the guy in the big portrait in the house. What gives?”

  “You saw it,” Jane said weakly.

  “Of course I saw it. It’s only about ten feet tall. I knew you led me away from it. Put that all together with all the other stuff and I smell a rat. I have to be at work in half an hour so tell me all about it.”

  Jane cleared her throat and played with a packet of sugar. “When I was out at the Newland house. Something really did happen. I saw Pierce…”

  “Did he break in?”

  “No, he was already there.”

  “Already there? You mean he was living there?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Annice frowned. “So he just came calling, like a siding salesman?”

  Jane closed her eyes. “You’re not going to believe this—”

  She gave a summary of what had happened during her stay at the mansion. When she’d finished she opened her eyes and took a mouthful of coffee.

  “You’re right, I don’t believe it. It’s not possible.”

  “I know. But there’s no other explanation.”

  “And you’re telling me you just went to bed with him? Just like that? Wham, bam thank you ma’am?”

  “It wasn’t exactly—”

  “How do you know he’s not some pervert who’ll chop you into small pieces and leave you in a super strength garbage bag?”

  “I know. If he’d wanted to hurt me he’s had lots of opportunity.” But Annice was right. When she thought of how vulnerable she’d been… She raised her chin in a gesture of defiance. “Besides, just think about it. I saw the whole scene with his stepmother. If that was some enactment where did she go, taking the furniture and everything with her? How come Pierce doesn’t know anything about anything invented since the Depression?”

  “Has it occurred to you he could be pretending?”

  “Why? What’s the point?”

  “That I don’t know.” Annice twirled her coffee spoon, lost in thought. “Okay, I’m not saying I do believe it but for the sake of argument let’s suppose it’s true. Pierce was a ghost and you brought him back to life. What next?”

  “I have to find a way to get him some identity. If he’s related to the Newlands he could go see his last remaining relative, establish his claim.”

  “Hmm. To do that he’d need good documentation. A computer geek might be able to do it.”

  “Do you know any?”

  Annice nodded. “It wouldn’t be cheap.”

  Jane looked at her friend, a sudden ray of hope blooming. “Are you saying you would help?”

  “Well, I have come into contact with a few people who skirt the law. The cops do it all the time, giving people new identities. It’s possible.” She pushed her cup to one side. “But I have to know he’s for real. I have to be sure he’s not some psycho just escaped from maximum security.”

  “I don’t know how to do that.” Jane felt an ache in her chest and placed a hand over the spot. “My heart tells me he’s telling the truth.”

  “My heart is intact and my head tells me to be careful. I’ll check things out. See if there are any police notices out for escapees. Let’s meet for lunch.” She stood and put her hand on Jane’s shoulder. “Hang in there, kiddo. If he’s legit I’ll help you, although I probably need my own head examined.” She looked across the coffee shop. “Speak of the devil.”

  Pierce waved from the counter and made his way toward them.

  Conflicting thoughts churned in Jane’s head as she watched him approach. Relief at the possibility of getting Pierce the documentation he needed, concern at how much it might cost. Would she have nothing left for her new apartment? Add to that her natural fear of involvement with people on the fringe of the law. She was a teacher. She had to guard her reputation. A raft of concerns flashed through her mind in the few moments he took to arrive at her side and take her hand. Immediately all her doubts disappeared and the familiar glow of joy lit up in her heart.

  “Jane,” he said, and the sound of his voice sent a tremor deep in her insides. She could only hope that she didn’t look as goofy as she felt.

  He put out a hand to Annice. “How are you this morning?”

  Annice barely touched his fin
gers. “I’m fine, thanks. Just leaving.” She swung her purse onto her shoulder, turned to go then hesitated. She looked at them both, shook her head, obviously decided not to say anything and left.

  “Have you had breakfast?” Jane asked.

  “No.”

  “I should have told you where they serve coffee and pastries at the motel…”

  “I found that.” Pierce took Annice’s vacant chair and picked up the menu. “That was an early morning snack, not breakfast.”

  “I see.”

  He scanned the listing. “Bacon, eggs, sausage, toast. That sounds more like it.”

  The waitress came to take the order and Jane asked for a bran muffin, no butter, and a large pot of coffee. Her junk food indulgence was over.

  When the waitress left, Pierce pulled a small notebook and pen from his back pocket and wrote something.

  “What’s that?”

  He looked up from under dark brows and Jane’s heart lurched. God but he could turn her on with just his eyes and at any time of the day. “Just the cost of the breakfast.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He leaned over the table and took her hand. His fingers stroked her palm and the tingle between her legs spread further. “When I get the house and if I inherit the family fortune, I shall pay you back every penny for the clothes, the motel…”

  Such an idea had never entered her head. Besides, he might be counting chickens before the hen had even laid the eggs. “That’s a nice thought but you don’t have to do that. Have you ever considered,” she paused, wondering how to put it tactfully, “that there may not be as much money as there was when you…left?”

  He let go of her hand to let the waitress put his huge plate of food before him. “This looks wonderful.” He eyed Jane’s solitary muffin. “You don’t enjoy eating?”

  “Yes I do but I’m not a breakfast person.”

  He laughed. “What a strange expression. Breakfast person.” He shook his head, poured ketchup and tackled the mound of hash browns. “You were saying?”

  “Maybe the family hasn’t done as well in the past decades. There have been two world wars, many smaller ones, all kinds of political upheaval.”

  “Not to worry.” He speared a slice of crisp bacon. She had to admit it looked delicious. “My family always had an eye on the main chance. They’ll have found a way to make a buck and to hang on to it, never fear.” He followed the direction of her gaze and picked up another piece of bacon on his fork. He held out the delicacy. “Eat.”

  She let him feed her and felt warm moisture spread. He didn’t even have to touch her and she was ready to fall at his feet, let him lead her where he wanted.

  He finished his plate and mopped the egg with a piece of bread. “I nearly forgot. Did you talk to your mother?”

  Jane brought herself back from thoughts of what they might do later. “I did. And she’s fine with me moving out.” She told him about the man her mother had met and her plans for vacation. “So that’s one problem solved.” She picked up the bill. “Shall we go?”

  He drank some coffee. “There’s a bigger problem.”

  “I know, the ID—”

  “No.” He shook his head and put down his cup. “More than that.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I have such a hard-on just looking at you I don’t think I can get up from the table.”

  My God, no one had ever said such a thing to her before. She felt the hot blood rise in her face.

  He closed his eyes. “I just have to remember something awful that happened to me and stop thinking about what I’d like to do to you right here on this table.”

  She glanced around but no one seemed to have heard what he said. But she had heard it and it set her heart to pounding even harder. A pulse began to throb in her pussy. Her lace panties were already wet and her breasts ached.

  He leaned away from the table and closed his eyes. “I’ll think about my stepmother.”

  That reminded her. “When did she die? Do you know?”

  He opened his eyes. “About five years after she got rid of me.”

  “So what did you do after you died and before she…” Jane hesitated, what did one say? “Joined you?”

  He frowned. “I don’t really know. It didn’t seem like five years in earth terms, rather like being in a deep sleep. A coma.”

  He smiled at her. “Well that worked. I can come out from behind the table.”

  She wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed that he was no longer ready to ravish her amongst the breakfast debris or relieved that he wouldn’t be embarrassed as they walked out.

  He shepherded her in front of him, one hand warm on the small of her back. He might have recovered from his surge of lust but she certainly hadn’t.

  She fumbled in her purse for money to pay the bill as they left. Outside they stood for a moment on the pavement. The sun was warm on her face. Pierce bent to nibble her earlobe.

  “Where are you going to take me?’ he whispered.

  She wanted to say “back to the motel” but she made a big effort to be focused. “I have to go to the lawyers’ office to return the camera.” And collect the rest of her check. “We have to talk about our story. Don’t forget we have a ghost on the film.”

  She felt him shrug. “That will be easy. They believe it or they don’t.” That was true.

  He kissed her neck and she felt the tip of his tongue touch her overheated skin. “Where have you always wanted to make love but never done it?”

  She swallowed and took her courage in both hands. “Doesn’t everyone fantasize about a public place?”

  He sighed. “A woman after my own heart. Lead on.”

  She retrieved the camera from the back of the car. “I think I’d better go in alone.”

  “They won’t recognize me from the picture. I’m just a fuzzy shape.”

  “I know but you distract me.” She kissed his cheek, just on the edge of his mouth. She wanted to move her lips further, press harder, but she resisted. “I’ll do it better on my own.”

  “If you say so. I’ll wander ‘round town and try not to think about what we’ll do later. On second thought, I will think about what we’ll do later.”

  Jane made her escape before he could put any more lustful ideas into her head.

  “Oh my goodness.” Abigail, the motherly secretary, stared wide-eyed at the TV screen where she had hooked up the camera. “Oh my goodness me, will you look at that. What on earth is it?”

  Jane pretended to peer more closely at the image. “Do you think it’s a ghost? “

  “Did you see anything while you were there, dear? Were you scared?”

  “Well I was a bit nervous at first but I felt perfectly safe. But it does look as if there’s something there.” She couldn’t confess she’d met the ghosts.

  She and Pierce had done a good job. The Vaseline on the lens and the dark shadows made it difficult to distinguish who or what was moving around. The figure looked human enough but it was impossible to make out any features or details of clothing.

  “Oh dear, oh dear.” Abigail sounded really distressed.

  “Does it make a big difference?” Jane asked.

  “It means the owner will have to think again about selling. At least lower the price. They don’t need the money, except it’s all tied up in the property and lying idle.” That was good news, anyway.

  “Did you say something about an heir?”

  “Yes, old Mr. Newland always maintained that Pierce, the one who disappeared years ago, might come back, or one of his descendants would.”

  “And that person would inherit.”

  “Indeed they would. Mr. Newland has no children so the fortune and the property would go to Pierce’s sons or grandsons.”

  How about Pierce himself?

  “And no one has any idea where this Pierce person might be?”

  Abigail shook her head. “If you ask me he’s dead long since, but try telling Mr. Newland that. He’s almost ni
nety but still very active with a mind of his own, let me tell you.” The video had come to an end and she switched off the machine. “Well thank you, dear. You did what we asked. I’ll get your check.”

  She got to her feet and opened a filing cabinet. Extracting a file folder, she took out an envelope. “Here you are. The remaining four thousand dollars.”

  Jane took it from her. “Thank you. Do you know where Mr. Newland lives?

  “Oh yes. But he doesn’t receive many visitors. He’s a bit of a recluse.”

  “Maybe I’ll contact him anyway just in case he has any questions about the house. Can you give me directions?”

  “If you want. Please sign on the bottom of the page.” She pushed a pen and a document toward Jane, who scribbled her name to indicate she had received the promised amount of money.

  With the remaining Newland’s address in her purse, Jane swung by the bank to deposit the check. Pierce was waiting for her by the car and she paused for a moment to look at him. She had parked right outside a real estate office and he was scanning the pictures in the window, hands in his pockets. The jeans and T-shirt he wore were totally unremarkable but he wore them with such an air that Jane noticed several girls steal a second glance at him as they passed by. With his dark hair falling over one eye he had the look of his namesake Brosnan. It was easy to imagine him playing the daredevil secret agent.

  Jane moved forward and went to stand beside him before he saw her. He greeted her with a wide smile and an arm around her shoulders. “How did it go?”

  “Okay I think. You were great as a ghost.”

  “I was a ghost.”

  “I mean on the film.” She stroked his arm. It was warm and solid and very real. “I think they bought it and will advise your cousin. I have his address.”

  “Perfect. I’ll go see him after I’ve done one thing.”

  “Can I guess what that might be?”

  “I should say do a few things, and I bet you can guess one.” He squeezed her shoulder and pointed to one of the notices in the window. “There’s a nice-looking apartment.”

  Jane focused on the picture, which showed an attractive building surrounded by trees. “One bedroom and a den. It’s a rental.” That wasn’t necessarily a bad idea. She could use her savings for furniture.

 

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