After the Midnight Hour

by Linda Randall Wisdom

  “You are making enough noise to wake the dead!” Maya shouted at Jared.

  He paused in his work and set down the sledgehammer he’d been wielding. He pulled off his safety goggles before he took the mug out of the woman’s hands. He smiled at her as he inhaled the rich aroma of fresh coffee before sipping the hot brew.

  “Since you’re already dead, what’s the problem?”

  She quietly snarled at him.

  “Why are you making large holes in the wall?” she asked, glaring at the wreckage that littered the floor. There was quite a bit there, since Jared had begun before dawn. “With this big hole, flies and birds will come into the house. I will never be able to keep it clean. And what will happen at night with nothing there to keep animals out of the house?”

  “I’ve got a tarp to cover it up at night,” he said. “Any chance you’ll bring me more coffee?”

  She sniffed. “I expect you want breakfast, too?”

  He grinned. “Sounds good to me.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You are too cheerful for a man who must not have slept much last night. Men who drink a lot of liquor and do not sleep usually have heads that hurt.” Her black eyes studied him with an intensity that he was positive had her knowing way too much about him. He resisted the urge to curl his lip at her. He knew better than to make her too angry. After all, he hadn’t gotten his breakfast yet.

  “Must be all that fresh air.” He looked at the large hole that used to be a good part of the living room wall. “It gives a man a new lease on life.”

  Maya stalked back to the kitchen. Jared listened to the less than subtle crash of the frying pan on the stove.

  He picked up the sledgehammer and turned back to his project. “She’ll probably burn the eggs on purpose.”

  What was he doing?

  Rachel heard a thundering crash below not all that long after she went upstairs and Harley arrived to keep her company. She crept out to the landing and looked down to see a grim-faced Jared standing at the wall and using a large hammer to make holes. She thought he was trying to bring the entire wall down. From her position, she watched him work until dawn peeked over the mountain. Harley uttered a faint whine when she disappeared. After that, she drifted down to the living room and watched Jared from a closer position.

  She noticed as she got nearer that he paused in his labor and lifted his face as if sniffing the air. There couldn’t be a way he could tell she was there. Could he?

  He looked grim and determined as he worked. As the hours passed and the day grew warmer, he stopped to pull off his T-shirt and toss it over a chair. She had seen him with his shirt off before, but she felt something different inside her as she looked at him now.

  She noted his skin had deepened to a dark bronze from his days working in the sun. The muscles in his arms and chest were hard from his labors, and the crisp hairs on his chest, along with strands on his head, were bleached a pale gold by the sun.

  Jared inspired unsettling feelings inside her. She didn’t understand them, but she sensed they were good, because she hadn’t felt much in the way of emotion in a very long time.

  If she could have, she would have smiled at the byplay between Maya and Jared. She had hoped he would tell Maya what he was doing. She guessed she would just have to wait to learn what he planned to do. It wasn’t as if she had anything else to do during the daylight hours….

  “Hey, Celeste, we’re looking at a real demolition man.”

  Jared lowered his safety goggles, leaving the heavy strap securing them hanging around his neck. Detectives Celeste Dante and Dylan Parker stood near the foot of the steps. Dylan’s grin threatened to split his face. His prematurely gray hair shone with a silver cast under the morning sun.

  “You got a problem, Parker?” Jared hefted the hammer in his hand.

  “Not a one. I’m just standing here enjoying myself watching you act like one of the guys on This Old House.” He reached over and covered Celeste’s eyes with his hand. “You might want to think about showing some decorum here for the married lady.” He nodded toward Jared, who wore only a pair of ragged cargo shorts, a tool belt and work boots. His bare chest gleamed with sweat from his efforts.

  Jared grinned. “I don’t think she’s all that shocked. Are you, Goldilocks?”

  “Give it a rest, both of you,” Celeste ordered, pushing his hand away. “I’m married, Parker, not dead. Besides, Luc’s bare chest is the only one that can tempt me. So, who’s your friend?” she asked, stooping down to pet Harley, who ambled up to her and promptly rolled over onto his back. She obliged him with a belly rub. The young dog whined, begging for more.

  “That’s Harley.”

  “Original name,” Dylan muttered. “What do you expect?” he demanded when Jared glared at him. “You named your dog after your motorcycle!”

  “Why are you here?” Jared walked down the steps.

  Celeste pushed a stray lock of golden-blond hair behind her ear. “We had to come out this way to interview a witness who claimed to see our invisible shoplifter.”

  Jared looked intrigued. The bane of the local shopkeepers’ existence was a thief who took expensive items that had no rhyme or reason. A top-of-the-line man’s silk tie one day. An equally expensive child’s toy a month later. To date, no one had been able to get one solid clue on the thief’s identity.

  “The witness give you anything good?”

  “Another dead end. It was just someone else after the reward the local businesses put up,” Dylan said with a look of disgust. “So we’ve pretty much wasted our day.”

  “Domestic crime that quiet lately that they’re sending you out on shoplifting cases?” Jared asked.

  “More like store owners screaming for an arrest, so all of us are expected to help out when we can. The mayor is threatening to bring in professionals if the local police can’t do their job. His words, definitely not ours.” Celeste’s disgruntled expression revealed her opinion of the blowhard known as the city mayor. “Since it’s an election year we just wasted the last hour discovering the witness had nothing concrete to say. So what are you doing up there besides tearing out part of a wall?” She nodded toward the house.

  Jared looked up. “I’m putting in French doors. Thought it would let more light into the room.”

  Celeste nodded in approval. “I think that will look very nice.” She glanced up as if something caught her attention. Her gaze sharpened with interest as she stared at one upstairs window in particular.

  When Jared’s visitors arrived, Rachel moved upstairs, so she could have a better view of them. She thought the woman was lovely. Even dressed in pants she had a feminine air about her. Rachel floated closer to the window for a better look, then suddenly reared back when the woman glanced up at the window. Rachel swore the visitor could see her, even though she knew it was impossible.

  Jared noticed the direction of Celeste’s gaze and turned his head to look up.

  What did she see up there? he wondered.

  “I haven’t had a chance to give the windows a good washing, so you can’t really see much,” he said casually.

  “How odd,” Celeste murmured, then shook her head slightly. “Maybe it’s the idea a violent murder happened here that had my imagination working.”

  “Like a murder scene is something new to you,” Dylan reminded her.

  “This one was different,” she replied. “It happened over a hundred and twenty years ago, when the wife of the ranch owner was murdered. Her killer was caught right away and lynched. They figured there was no reason to bring the law in, and since the husband was a prominent man in town, no one questioned his actions. Then the husband was killed the next night. All the stories say he was literally torn apart, but no one could figure out how it happened.”

  “Did you ever think about taking up a more interesting hobby than memorizing old crime records?” Dylan asked her. “Knowing details of crimes committed decades ago doesn’t necessarily help us now.”


  “You never can tell,” she said. “Besides, the murders of Rachel and Caleb Bingham were big news back then. Prominent citizens and all that. Plus, his killer, at least, was never caught.”

  “You act as if you don’t totally believe the stories about the murders,” Jared said, still watching her closely.

  Celeste shrugged. “Reading the sheriff’s reports of the murders was more illuminating than reading the newspaper accounts. A lot of the information was kept from the public. The sheriff back then wrote he was afraid the townspeople would panic at the idea of a killer running free. Plus, it was an election year for him, so he was doing everything he could to cover his own butt. The stories in the newspaper were graphic but still kind of sketchy. The sheriff even wrote something, his thoughts about a local witch being involved. There were rumors she was Caleb’s mistress, but it was something no one liked to talk about.”

  Jared felt ice trail down his spine. Rachel had talked about a witch being there the night she claimed she was killed.

  “It just goes to show you never can tell,” he said casually.

  Celeste shook her head. “The stories never added up. That’s one case I’d love to solve. Then there’s the husband’s murder. You’d almost think it was revenge for his wife’s death. If he had a mistress who practiced the black arts, who isn’t to say someone had the means to avenge Rachel’s death?”

  “Hard to believe there could have been crimes of passion back then. Have you seen pictures of the women who lived around here? Most of them were, well, less than attractive,” Dylan said, more tactfully than usual.

  Celeste shook her head. “This is why you’re divorced and women with brains don’t want to date you,” she pointed out.

  Jared noticed Dylan’s expression change from its usual laid-back look to something more sad and secretive.

  “Yeah, probably why,” Dylan murmured.

  “Anyway, we just thought since we were in the area we’d stop by to see how you were doing,” Celeste said. “It’s not the same around the station without your dark brooding presence.”

  Jared grinned. “You guys actually miss me? I’m touched.” He laid his hand over his heart.

  Celeste dug her elbow in Dylan’s side when he opened his mouth to offer his own opinion of exactly how Jared was touched.

  “By the way, have either of you heard about any new meth labs cropping up in the area?” Jared asked.

  Celeste shook her head.

  “Just the usual, it seems,” Dylan said. “They close one down, three more show up elsewhere. Lately, they’ve been found outside the city limits, so it makes them the county’s problem, not ours.”

  Jared chuckled. “Are you sure you getting him as your partner wasn’t some kind of punishment?” he asked Celeste.

  “I think they were hoping I could whip him into shape. No one realized just how big a project that was,” she said, tongue-in-cheek.

  “Hey! I’m standing right here,” Dylan grumbled. “I can hear every word you’re saying.”

  “Time to feed my little pet. He always gets cranky when he’s hungry,” Celeste confided.

  “You know, people figured you two would get married,” Jared said, walking them back to their unmarked vehicle.

  Celeste laughed. “And break up the perfect partnership? That would have been the worst idea around.”

  “Yeah, Beauty and the Beast,” Dylan muttered, climbing into the driver’s seat.

  As Celeste started to get into the car, she paused and looked up at the window again.

  “Something wrong, Goldilocks?” Jared asked, then immediately regretted his sharp tone.

  She turned back to him. For a moment, she studied his cautious expression.

  “No. Nothing. It was probably a shadow,” she said lightly. “Or perhaps a ghost. How many have you come across since you moved in?”

  “If you’ve got the bumps and shrieks in the middle of the night going on out here, we should have our Halloween party at your place this fall,” Dylan said, switching on the engine. “Think what a wild time we all could have if you could get the local ghosts to come out and howl at us.”

  Jared watched the car drive off. He grinned and lifted his hand over his head in a wave when he heard a short burst from the siren before the vehicle rolled out of sight. Once they were gone, he turned around and looked back at the house. His gaze rose upward until it reached the window Celeste had been staring at.

  His bedroom window.

  “Are you up there, Rachel?” he murmured. “Were you watching us?”

  For a moment, he thought he could smell jasmine, except he knew it wasn’t possible, since there were no jasmine bushes around the house. And if Rachel couldn’t leave the house’s interior, there was no way for the fragrance to reach him.

  That morning, he’d taken the precaution of gathering up all the paperwork that had to do with the house, especially anything that mentioned his connection to Caleb Bingham, and tucking them in the cabinet’s locked drawer. He knew he’d have to get a desk sometime, but the drawer would work for now. He didn’t want Rachel to come across the papers and learn he was a direct Bingham descendant. He knew he’d have to tell her sometime, but he’d rather do it his way. He had a feeling it could cause trouble between them.

  He made his way slowly back toward the house.

  “I suppose you now want something to eat.” Maya stood on the porch with her hands planted on her hips.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t come out earlier.” He climbed the steps. “Meet my…” What would he call them? Friends? Co-workers?

  She sniffed. “Did you want them to think you had a woman living here with you? I believe you have enough worries without rumors. Besides—” she looked down her nose in a haughty stare “—you are not my type.”

  Jared bit his cheek to keep from bursting out laughing. He guessed that Maya had been making use of the television during the day.

  “You can go on with your work. I will call when your food is ready.” She disappeared through the kitchen door.

  Jared stared at the large hole he’d made and thought of the French doors he had waiting for him at the building supply store. He’d promised to pick them up before the end of the day. He was lucky they had just what he needed.

  “Never mind cooking,” he called out. “I’ve got to go into town and pick something up.” He unbuckled his tool belt and allowed it to drop to the floor. He picked up a T-shirt that had been hanging on the railing and pulled it over his head. “I’ll get something to eat while I’m there.”

  The woman suddenly appeared in the doorway. The gleam in her eyes warned him she had a specific request.

  “You will bring me a cheeseburger and fries? And a large chocolate shake. And perhaps those onion rings?”

  Jared chuckled. “I’ve corrupted you to fast food. Okay, I’ll bring back some lunch for you.”

  Maya remained on the porch, watching Jared climb into his truck and drive off. She turned her head and studied the destroyed wall. A slow smile warmed her normally stern features.

  “Ah, niña, for all we know he could find the key in the wall.”

  Chapter 8

  The first thing Rachel noticed that evening when she regained her form was a rich aroma of tomatoes and exotic spices filling the air.

  “What did Maya cook for dinner?” she asked herself as she descended the stairs.

  She was hesitant about seeing Jared again after the events of the previous night, but she decided to blame it on his drinking. The one thing she couldn’t blame on that was her response to the feel of his aroused body against hers and the way his mouth had seduced her. She suddenly shivered as if she were cold, but the last thing she felt was chilly.

  When she entered the kitchen she was surprised to find the table set and a large flat box sitting in the middle.

  “I tried to time it with sundown,” Jared said.

  She looked across the room, where he was pulling a bottle of wine out of the refrigerator.


  “You can drink wine, can’t you?”

  “I…guess so. What is this?” She gestured toward the table. She realized the tantalizing aroma came from the box.

  He grinned. “It’s called pizza. Since I didn’t think you’d had pizza before I played it safe and got it with pepperoni and extra cheese.”

  Her head snapped up. “Does this mean you finally believe me?” She waited for his answer with bated breath. His gesture told her he must believe her, but she still wanted to hear him say the actual words.

  Jared took a deep breath. “You have to understand that my life deals with logic, not fantasy.”

  “I’m not a fantasy,” she argued. “I’m…” What was she? She lifted her hands in a resigned gesture. “I don’t know what I am. I just know when the sun goes down I feel very real.”

  He slowly nodded. “I’m trying, okay? Believe me, that’s a biggie.”

  Her lips stretched in a smile, then she looked down at the box. “What is pizza?”

  “Something you’ll like just as much as you like popcorn.” He filled a glass with wine the color of rare rubies and brought out a bottle of beer for himself. “Have a seat. And excuse the fingers, but it’s the best way to eat pizza.” He opened the box and picked up two slices, placing one of them on her plate.

  Rachel looked on either side of her plate. “Where is the knife and fork?”

  “You use your fingers.” He picked up a slice and demonstrated, biting into his thick piece, which was gooey with cheese and topped with spicy pepperoni.

  She looked uncertain as she gingerly picked up her own slice and nibbled on the pointed end. Her expression changed to one of intrigue as she nibbled a bit more. She laughed as a string of melted mozzarella cheese stuck to her chin.

  “This is very different,” she decided.

  “Good different or bad different?” he asked, already guessing her answer.

  She took another bite and chewed. In no time, she had finished her piece. “Good different. May I have another, please?”