Dead People

by Edie Ramer

  ***

  The knock on the door pounded as if a WWF wrestler was on the other side. Cassie jumped up from her perch on the end of the bed, her spirits lifting, a reaction she instantly regretted but couldn’t damp down. She yanked the door open.

  Luke stood on the other side of the door, his eyebrows slashed together. “Where are the cops?”

  “I didn’t call them.” She sucked in a breath. “There’s nothing missing.”

  Looking at Luke’s darkening eyes, she wished she had called him back, telling him not to come. She’d thought of it, but couldn’t bring herself to punch in the numbers.

  Now she knew why. She wanted to see him. She needed to look into his smoldering eyes and wrap herself up in the illusion that she wasn’t alone. That someone who breathed and shed blood cared what happened to her.

  The jitters inside her calmed and she breathed with her diaphragm, even as her brain told her she was making a big mistake here. No, huge mistake. Bigger than the combined egos in the House of Representatives.

  He pulled her to him.

  For an instant, she stiffened. Then the tension eased from her muscles and she closed her eyes and sagged forward. Her cheek rested against his leather jacket, but she smelled him. Spicy, musky, like sperm wrapped in leather.

  Sperm?

  Her eyes snapped opened. She pushed away, jumping back into her motel room. “Um, you, I...”

  Her gaze dropped and she saw Erin staring up at her, her eyes big, a small line on her forehead. Oh great, this was not the right thing to do in front of Erin. From what Tricia had let drop, Erin’s mother was a junkie, and that often came with multiple sex partners and a swinging bedroom door. Cassie didn’t want to add to that.

  “How do you know someone was here?” Luke stepped past Cassie.

  “Of course you can come inside.” She raised her eyebrows.

  He stopped in the middle of the room. “You want us to leave?”

  She swallowed, remembering him in the doctor’s office. When he warned the doctor he was leaving if she didn’t tell them what they wanted to know, it hadn’t been a bluff. She bet he walked away from Erin’s mother without looking back.

  Cassie almost didn’t blame Vanessa for lying to him, telling him Erin wasn’t his. But Vanessa hadn’t hurt Luke, she’d hurt Erin. What kind of mother did that?

  Hell, what kind of father turned his back on his daughter because she possessed gifts he didn’t understand, or want to understand?

  “No, don’t go.” She crossed her arms over her chest, shaken and sick from the invasion of her privacy. And more shaken and sick that she was so needy. “I called the motel office. Tricia’s there. She said—”

  “Oh my God.” Tricia hurtled through the open door and grabbed Cassie into a hug worthy of a truck driver, squishing the breath out of her lungs. “Are you all right? This is creepy. We’ve never had a room broken into before.”

  Tricia’s perfume wafted up into Cassie’s nostrils, too sweet after the muskiness of Luke’s scent. She wiggled out of Tricia’s hold and sucked in air.

  “Thanks for coming. If you could just give me a key for another—”

  “Of course.” Tricia peered around the room. “Are you sure you don’t want to call the sheriff? Are you sure nothing’s missing?”

  “Nothing’s missing.”

  “How did you know someone was here?” Tricia glanced around.

  Cassie saw Luke scanning the room too—the open suitcase on the floor, the open closet door with the tops and slacks doubled and even tripled on hangers.

  “Whoever was here left...something in a place where it wasn’t before.”

  Two lines furrowed between Tricia’s eyebrows. “You’re not sloppy, I’m not saying that. I’ve seen much, much, much worse. But you aren’t exactly...well...”

  “Neat.” Cassie put her hands on her hips. “Believe me, I know where this item was located.”

  Tricia lifted her hands. “Perhaps Margie displaced something when she was cleaning.”

  Glancing at Luke, Cassie saw him watching her intently. Her face felt heated and she was glad she hadn’t called the cops. She swung her gaze back to Tricia.

  “The displaced item was in my drawer. There would be no reason for her to go into any of the drawers.”

  “Of course not.” Tricia held up her hands. “I’ll talk to Margie when she comes in tomorrow. You’re sure nothing has been stolen?”

  Cassie looked at her drawer where her panties, bras and vibrator were kept. This morning when she left, the vibrator was still under her panties.

  But when she came back twenty minutes ago with her bagful of books, Hunk had been on top of the pile.

  She doubted he’d turned himself on and vibrated his way to the top.

  Looking at Tricia and Luke, she could see from their expression—hers puzzled, his sardonic—they didn’t believe her. She raised her chin and held out her hand.

  “The keys to the new room?” She couldn’t stay in this room, not after someone had been in it, searching through her drawers. It made her feel violated. If the next motel hadn’t been forty minutes away, she’d pack up her suitcases and move.

  Tricia dug her hand into her jacket pocket. “The one next door is empty. Is that all right?”

  “Fine.”

  “I have to go back to the office. Will you bring the other key back when you’re done?”

  Cassie nodded, not bothering to tell her the room needed a new key. Or new locks that used key cards. Tricia obviously thought she was odd and paranoid. Either lying or delusional.

  So did Luke.

  Her gut twisted but she held her head high. If someone didn’t believe her, that was their problem.

  The door closed behind Tricia. Expecting Luke and Erin to follow, she stared at Luke challengingly.

  “We’ll help carry your stuff.” Luke moved to her closet.

  “I’ll do it. Don’t bother.”

  He pulled her slacks off the hangers. “I owe you.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.” She assumed he meant the trick she had pulled in the food court, though when she left he hadn’t looked happy.

  “I’ll help too.” Apparently deciding to forgive Cassie for hugging Luke, Erin grabbed the bookstore bag. She grunted and Cassie stepped forward. She’d gotten a little carried away in the romance section. Perhaps it was too heavy for—

  The bag broke. A half dozen books tumbled to the floor, two with a man’s muscled torso on the cover, one with a pair of legs in high heels, two with a cartoon woman, and the last with flowery script and a red rose on a midnight blue cover.

  Heat flared up through Cassie’s neck and into her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Erin said. “It’s all my fault.”

  Cassie jerked her gaze to Erin. Her lips trembled, her eyes were fearful as if she expected Cassie to... Hit her? Yell? Throw things?

  Cassie stepped in front of Erin and dropped to her knees on the short-napped commercial carpeting. Erin hunched her shoulders, clutching the torn bag. “Please,” she whispered.

  Cassie curved her hands around Erin’s. “They’re just books. Nothing is harmed. It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” Erin said, still whispering.

  Cassis released Erin’s hand and instead curved her hands on Erin’s back. She drew Erin’s stiff body toward her until Erin’s head rested on her shoulder.

  “It’s okay,” she said again. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s—”

  Erin started to cry.

  Cassie rocked her back and forth. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “Erin, it’s okay.”

  Erin clung to her neck, her sobs growing louder, more heart breaking.

  Cassie’s chest felt odd, as if the fence she’d erected around her heart crumbled like a chocolate chip cookie, allowing one small girl to sneak in.

  Dammit, dammit, dammit.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” She crooned until Erin’
s sobs quieted and slowed to a stop. Although Erin’s grip loosened, she leaned heavier on Cassie’s shoulder. Finally, Luke bent down and Cassie lifted her gaze to his face.

  He looked tortured.

  “She’s asleep. I’ll take her home.” In one smooth move, he lifted Erin into his arms, her head drooping against his neck.

  Cassie scrambled to her feet and hurried to open the door. She did the same thing for his car door, even though the wind knifed through her chenille sweater.

  Wrapping her arms around her chest, she gritted her teeth to keep them from chattering while he put Erin in the back seat and adjusted the seatbelt. Erin’s head lolled to the side, her mouth parted.

  Watching her, Cassie’s heart pinched. Only a few hours ago, she’d vowed to squeeze Erin out. Well, that promise had nosedived.

  Just before Luke slid into the driver’s seat, he looked over the roof of his car straight into her eyes. “I owe you.”

  “Shut up.” She hurried into the motel room. The only thing he owed her was the remainder of the money when she convinced Isabel to leave earth.

  Joe waited in the room. For once his expression was serious, his mouth grim. “Don’t you think it’s time to leave this place?”

  She gathered up the scattered books and carried them to the open suitcase against the wall. “As soon as Isabel leaves, I’m out of here.”

  “I thought you’d say that. So, who do you think was in your room?”

  “You believe me.” She straightened from bending over the suitcase, not taking her gaze from his good looking face.

  “Of course. I know you.”

  Tears prickled behind her eyes and she wished he were alive so she could kiss him.

  He looked horrified at her hint of tears. “Hey, don’t get mushy.”

  She snuffled a laugh. Men. Alive or dead, they were all emotionally stunted. Right now, with her heart feeling like something had bruised it, she wouldn’t mind a little emotional numbness herself.

  She’d survive, she told herself. She always did.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  “Blue Hawaii” wasn’t Cassie’s favorite song. Apparently it wasn’t Isabel’s either. This was Cassie’s third time listening to Elvis Presley’s Christmas album, and she wanted to stomp on the CD and bust it into tiny pieces like Humpty Dumpty. Curled in the burgundy chair in the family room, she closed the Nora Roberts’ book she just finished.

  After reading this, it should be easy to resist Luke. He wasn’t anything like the smart, witty, caring, well-rounded hero. Luke was too stubborn, too brooding, too unforgiving. He had as much joy in him as a Stephen King novel. Not what she wanted in a man. Not what any woman would want.

  Picturing Tricia hitting on him last week, she frowned. Tricia saw him as a glamorous figure who mingled with other glamorous figures. Couldn’t she see that he was...lost?

  A shiver went through Cassie. Helping lost souls was what she did. But not live lost souls.

  She stood and turned off the CD player. She’d survived plenty of her own blue Christmases, but she’d had the good sense not to write sickening songs about them.

  With the music turned off, she heard the sound of the front door opening. She stilled, her head tilted, listening to footsteps. Tricia? No, too heavy.

  Luke.

  Her stomach muscles tightened. She’d let herself in two hours ago and hadn’t seen him since. She’d hoped he had gone away for the day or else was in his studio and wouldn’t come down until after she left.

  The less she had to do with him and Erin the better.

  He strode past the doorway, holding a book under his arm, but she glimpsed the cover of the book. Was that...?

  She scurried out of the room, then followed him down the hall and around the corner into the kitchen. He tossed his jacket on a chair, dropped the book on the table and crossed to the refrigerator. He grabbed a beer. She grabbed the book.

  It was! He was reading a book by her. That woman. The self-named ghost talker to the stars.

  He twisted off the beer cap and looked at Cassie, no surprise in his face. Of course not. He’d seen her car parked in front of the house.

  She held up the book, a photo on the back dust jacket of a wild-haired woman wearing purple. “She’s a fraud.”

  “I hear she says the same thing about you.” He took a swig of beer.

  “You saw Joe. You know I’m the real deal. Why are you reading her?”

  Grinning, he looked almost lighthearted. “You sound jealous.” He walked toward her while she struggled to find words to express the outrage pulsing inside her breast.

  He plucked the book out of her hand and continued past her, tucking the book-that-should-be-burned beneath his armpit, holding the beer in his other hand.

  She marched after him. “It you want to hire her, feel free. I hear Aurora charges twice what I do.”

  “You hear incorrectly.” He didn’t turn around, heading toward the back stairs. “She charges three times more than what you charge.”

  “You called her.” She clomped up the steps after him.

  “Before I called you. She already had a gig and couldn’t come until it was over. A castle in Spain.”

  “I was second choice? Why did you call her first?”

  “She’s number one.” He reached the top of the stairs and crossed the landing.

  “Number one fake!” Cassie followed him into the studio.

  ***

  Isabel stood on the landing outside the studio, listening to them argue. They thought they were so smart. They thought they could manipulate her, the way Thomas had done for too many years.

  No matter how much Isabel longed to talk to Cassie—someone who could hear her—she never forgot Cassie’s objective was to make her leave her home.

  A ghost therapist? Phooey! Why not call it like it was? Her real occupation was ghost exterminator.

  The angry voices continued. Isabel slanted her head, listening. Maybe she was wrong about Luke and Cassie wanting to make love to each other.

  Or maybe she was right.

  There was one way to find out.

  She floated into the room. Busy arguing with Luke, Cassie didn’t sense her. Neither of them paid attention when she slid the key out of the old-fashioned lock on Luke’s side of the door. They didn’t pay attention when she pulled the door shut.

  As it clicked shut, she giggled. As she turned the key in the hall side of the door, locking them in, she cackled.

  Sometimes being dead was more fun than being alive.

  ***

  Luke egged Cassie on, a devil twisting to life inside of him. As she argued, a fire glowed in her eyes and her cheeks flushed with color. She sang a sweet song that needed no words, and he was dancing on shaky ground. He was more than attracted to her. He liked her, and that didn’t happen often.

  A click came from behind him. Turning, he saw the hall door was closed.

  Busy pointing out her fellow ghost hunter’s fakery, Cassie continued to argue. Luke strode past her to the door and she stopped mid word.

  “Are you leaving?”

  He tried the door. It wouldn’t open. He looked for the key in the old lock that he never used but was always there. Even this morning, he’d noticed it, his hand scraping against the intricately curved top. He’d thought of taking it out and putting it somewhere else but hadn’t bothered.

  It wasn’t there now.

  “Neither of us is leaving. We’re locked in.” Luke wanted to swear, to laugh, to howl. Locked in by a ghost. A fucking ghost.

  “You’re kidding.” Cassie crossed over to Luke. He stood back and watched her turn the door handle, jiggling it, clasping it with both hands, gritting her teeth, putting her muscles into it.

  Her face flushed a deep shade of pink. She let go of the handle and faced him, her hands on her hips. “What did you do?”

  “Not a damn thing.” He leaned against the wall, crossed one leg over the other and shoved his hands into his pockets to stop himself
from reaching out to her. “It’s my guess our resident ghost is playing tricks on us.”

  “Isabel?” She twisted to scan the studio. “Where are you, Isabel? Open the door. Now!”

  Luke’s gaze lowered from her indignant expression to the rise and fall of her breasts. No silicone there. He imagined how the weight would feel in his hands. He imagined how they would look—soft and full and ivory shaded, the nipples a pinkish brown. He imagined how—

  He thrust his thoughts down, but they sprang back stronger. It was like using a water pistol to put out a wildfire.

  He burned for her. He made up songs for her. He took cold showers for her.

  Useless. Every time he saw her, his desire grew stronger. Louder. From a whisper to a melody to a crescendo.

  “Isabel’s not coming. Until someone opens the door, there’s no way out. It’s just you and me.” He straightened from the wall, pulling his hands out of his pockets. “Before anything happens, you should know I don’t believe in one man, one woman relationships.”

  “So? Your beliefs are nothing to do with me."

  “They are when we’re locked together in a room.”

  She stared resolutely at the thick wood. But he felt her silent music, the hum of her blood matching the hum of his.

  He stepped toward her and her back tensed. Yet she didn’t move. Not even when he curved his hands over her shoulders. Cassie’s breath hitched, but she remained still in the circle of his arms, not softening...not pulling away.

  In that second he knew. Knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She burned for him, the way he burned for her.

  “I don’t see many long-term relationships working.” He caressed her with his voice. “Why not enjoy each other while you’re here? Most couples I know who claim they’re soul mates end up screaming at each other in a lawyer’s office.”

  “Is that what you and Vanessa did?”

  His hands tightened and she flinched. He immediately gentled his grip. “It was out-and-out lust with us. We were never soul mates.” Never like this. Never in his darkest nights. Never in his brightest. “Vanessa was the band’s singer, I was the songwriter. Marriage was convenient. A month later she was screwing the drummer.” He heard the roughness in his voice and lightened it. “Our breakup is public record. I don’t give a damn.”