by C. D. Gorri
Wait.
What?
“Now? But, the soup…”
“Is coming. It’s one of my favorite melodies and I just thought it would be nice while we’re waiting.”
It wasn’t a piece she recognized but who was she to complain if a cute guy asked her to dance. There hadn’t been a line waiting at her table the last time she looked.
Or…well, ever.
He looked so hopeful she couldn’t stand to disappoint him.
“Sure.”
She’d lost her mind. It was official. Dancing with a strange man in an empty bistro had not been on her agenda when she woke up that morning. But hell, the only thing on her mind at that point was streaking into the shower before Randall made fun of her oversized tee shirt sleepwear.
Sliding out of the booth, she found herself in front of him.
“My lady.” He held out his hands and she moved into his arms. He swept her across the floor, the music sliding through her system like a drug.
Or was that his heated gaze as he locked in on her eyes and never looked away? Either way, she was lost. When the music faded off, they stopped. Lowell released her and she felt a pang of loss.
“Oh.” Suddenly, she realized she didn’t want the moment to end.
Lowell moved closer to Zoe and she felt his hands fall onto her shoulders and weave themselves into her hair.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For dancing with me.”
Pulling her hair back, he brushed the side of her face and pressed his lips against Zoe's. The softness beckoned her in and with a spike of heat racing through her blood, she realized she wanted much, much more.
“You’re welcome.”
Her stomach growled and she averted her eyes.
“Sorry. It’s been awhile since I’ve eaten.”
“Let me see if your soup is ready.” Lowell vanished into the kitchen, leaving her breathless and staring after him. He returned shortly with a serving tray laden with a single bowl of soup. Setting it on the table, he beckoned her forward.
“Come. Eat before it gets cold.”
“Thanks.” It smelled of cheesy potatoes with a hint of bacon and her stomach growled in earnest. She slid into the booth and dug in, ravenous.
“May I sit with you while you eat?”
“Please.”
But instead of sitting across from her as she expected, he slid in beside her.
“Why don’t you grab some soup and join me?”
He shook his head, a longing expression on his face. “I’d rather just watch you. It’s so nice to have someone to spend time with.”
It was weird, but she couldn’t have agreed more. Diving in, she took the first spoonful of soup and gave into the heaven enveloping her taste buds.
Soon, the warm soup had her feeling drowsy. It had been a really long day. Randall’s continuous drama made her tired. And she waited too long to eat.
“Wow. I’m really sleepy.”
“We can just sit here if you want to rest. I can get you some more tea.”
“Sure.” Before long, the soup was gone and she laid her head on his shoulder. It was so nice to sit with someone and just be quiet.
“You okay?”
“Umm. Hmmm.”
“Good.”
She shut her eyes. It was only for a moment. With a deep sigh, the moment passed and she nuzzled closer.
“Go ahead and rest.” His fingers traced the outline of her face and tucked some hair behind her ear.
It was weird, being this relaxed, but there was something about Lowell… Something that felt like…well…home. She let the comfort of the soup, the present company, and the atmosphere lull her into nothingness.
*.*.*.*
Zoe awoke to the rattle of a key in the lock and struggled to sit up.
Where was she?
Looking down, she found herself slumped in a booth, an empty soup bowl in front of her, and a half full glass of now lukewarm tea. The last thing she remembered was eating her soup and, in the comfort of it all, laying her head on Lowell’s shoulder to rest for a moment.
She must have fallen asleep.
Oh my God.
Where was Lowell?
Unfamiliar voices filtered through the door and she panicked. She shouldn’t be here. Maybe if she hid under the table, she could make a run for it when they went into the kitchen or something.
The jingle of bells and the creak of the door hinges announced their entry and the voices got closer.
“I don't know. The alarm hasn’t been working right lately. These damned ghost tours have him all rattled, poor dear. And apparently, a girl went missing last night. Was supposed to have gone home but her roommate says she never got there. Her car is still in the lot out back.” The voice had the country twang of an older man and was probably the owner of the building.
Missing?
Alarm?
Scrambling, she hid under the booth, praying they didn’t find her and think she’d broken in.
An older woman came into view. Her face lined with age, but there was a kindness about her that reminded her of someone. “Jed. Look at this.”
Oh lord.
She’d left the bowl and glass on the table. They were sure to see it and find her. She never should have let Randall talk her into going without calling Laurel first. Then she wouldn’t be in this trouble in the first place. She clutched her purse to her chest, struggling to keep her balance.
God.
Maybe she could text Laurel and she’d come rescue her.
Omg.
Her phone.
Where was her phone?
Sighing, she realized it wasn’t going to do any good to stay here. She might as well fess up to being there and let the chips fall where they were going to.
Footsteps came closer to where Zoe was hiding. Her heart beating like a jackhammer in her chest, Zoe raised her hand in the air and spoke.
“Down here.”
A gasp reverberated through the room and to Zoe's shock and horror the old couple began to laugh.
The older woman sputtered and then Zoe was wincing as her phone was handed down to her.
“This must be yours, dear.”
Zoe swallowed and heat crept up the back of her neck.
“Now, why don’t you come out from under there?” The old woman clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth.
“Um. Yes. Thanks.” Zoe had already started uncurling herself from beneath the table. In a few moments, she was standing in front of the couple, heat sliding over her cheeks.
Zoe's face burned. “I'm so sorry. I just... I...”
“Hon, you don't have to explain at all.” Jed turned around, checking out of the corner of his eye that the coast was clear. “Martha, why don't you get this girl a cup of coffee. She's going to need a little something stronger than tea, I have a feeling.”
Martha smiled. “That sounds like a good idea.”
“Thanks.” Zoe mumbled and looked down at the floor. Her phone was vibrating in her hand and she glanced at it, finding several text messages from Vie and Laurel.
Where are you?
I know you are not ignoring me.
Not funny Zoe. Where the hell are you?
Zoe!!!!
Shaking her head, she texted back that she was at the tearoom and was just fine.
“I'm so sorry to scare everyone. I came in last night to have something to eat and Lowell let me stay awhile...” Zoe looked away, afraid to meet the older man's eyes.
Martha came back in, carrying a tray with a blueberry muffin and a cup of hot steaming coffee. “Here you go. Best put something on your stomach.”
What was it about this place and people wanting to feed her?
“Thanks.” Zoe took a bite of the muffin and gulped the coffee down in a few scalding swallows.
“So, you saw our Lowell.” Martha wiped at the ring of water the iced tea glass left on the table top.
Our Lowell?
&nbs
p; “Yes. He was here last night closing up the shop.” Zoe smiled and took another bite of muffin and almost missed the look that passed between the older couple.
“I’m sorry. If I shouldn’t have come in… I’ll just go.” She put the coffee cup down with a clatter and gathered her things.
“Oh dear.” Martha pursed her lips. “No. That isn’t it at all. Please don’t leave. Finish your breakfast and we’ll explain.”
The hot coffee called her and the succulent muffin sang a siren’s song, and Zoe acquiesced.
“Only if you’re sure.”
“Eat, girl.” Jed nodded. “Plenty of time for talk after.”
Three ample bites and a few sips later, her cup was empty and her plate was clean, save for a few crumbs.
The door to the tearoom burst open and Laurel and Vie stumbled inside. Appearing in a frenzy of activity behind them, a familiar looking guy in leather pants and a water logged peasant shirt slogged inside, looking pissed as hell. Randall floated along behind him, giving her the stink eye.
“Where the hell were you last night?” Vie demanded. “You scared everyone half to death.”
Zoe sputtered as she tried to choke down the last crumb of muffin, but Martha interrupted.
“Good morning, Thomas. Pretty active tour last night?”
“No, ma'am.” Thomas nodded to Vie and Laurel and they sat down at a table next to Zoe's. “It was pretty dead, actually.”
Martha paused from her clean up of the iced tea glass and met Jed's eyes.
“Your friend here saw Lowell.”
Thomas started, eyes widening. “What?”
“You met Thomas last night, didn’t you?” Laurel winked at Zoe and elbowed Vie in the ribs when she started to say something.
“Um. Yes. Nice to see you again.” She fiddled with her coffee cup, wondering where this was going.
“Where is Lowell? I wanted to thank him for letting me in at the last minute.” Zoe let her gaze fall to the paper napkin roll on the table and had to consciously resist shredding it into bits like the one she did last night.
“Honey, Lowell's a ghost.” Martha smiled sadly down at her.
Startled, Zoe looked up. “What do you mean? He made me soup.”
Not to mention dancing and a panty melting kiss.
Vie narrowed her eyes. “What's going on?”
Laurel laughed and took Vie's hand. “Our friend here just got waited on by the resident ghost? Right?”
“I’ve been trying to see him for years.” Thomas snorted, his attractive face pulling into what could only be described as a petulant frown. Randall waved a hand in front of his face, but after no reaction, he gave a deep sigh and lounged in the doorway, motioning for her to hurry up.
So, his date hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped. She couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him, but then what Laurel was saying sunk in.
Lowell was a ghost.
Her only date in who knows how long and he wasn’t even on this plane.
It figured.
“He was a ghost?” She squeaked.
Martha and Jed nodded. “Yup.”
Randall snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Only Zoe could have a date with a ghost and not have a clue,” Vie chortled.
Laurel snorted, her hand covering her mouth.
Zoe snorted in indignation. “Hey! I'm right here. And I didn’t sleep with him. I just had dinner.”
Vie moved and sat down next to Zoe, covering her mouth with her hand in mock horror.
“You had dinner with a ghost?”
Zoe grinned from ear to ear. “Apparently.”
“You suck,” Vie replied dryly. “You could have texted us back, you know.”
“You could have come with me.”
“I couldn’t. That work thing kept me late.”
“I was checking out a lead on a new case. Then, I had to visit grandmother.” The air around her darkened and Thickety, Laurel’s demon cat, appeared.
A new case?
The very idea was enough to give her the chills. Laurel wouldn’t give up on the fact that she could see and communicate with the dead. If it weren’t for her barista job, she’d drag her half way across the county investigating cemeteries and historical monuments just to have someone to talk shop with.
Side eyeing the older couple, Laurel held a hand up to her lips and shook her head.
Familiar ghosts were one thing, but demonic cats that talked were something else entirely.
She started to say something, but realized Laurel was right.
“But who was he? I can't believe it...” Zoe looked down at the crumbs on her plate.
“Lowell worked at the tearoom about twenty-five years ago. It was his family’s place, but then something happened and it all went south.
No one knows how he died, but we do know that once in a while, if a lonely tourist finds herself in front of the tearoom, Lowell is known to make an appearance and offer his own personal brand of hospitality.” Martha smiled.
“But…” Zoe stopped, suddenly realizing the truth. As hard as she tried to avoid it, she’d just been in another ghost story. Out of the corner of her eye, a luminous flicker moved through the shadows in the back of the room and Zoe smiled.
Well, I'll be damned.
Ghost lights.
Wistfully, she wondered where Lowell had gone, even as she touched her lips with her fingertips, remembering his very real kiss.
You are cordially invited to
The Mercer Cliff House Murder Mystery Weekend
Events include:
Accommodations for two nights.
Interactive adventure three-day adventure.
Ghosts and hauntings.
Friday night social. (cash bar)
Friday night dinner.
Saturday breakfast, lunch, cocktail hour (cash bar), and dinner.
Sunday breakfast with final whodunnit wrap-up.
RSVP without delay.
Chapter One
Zoe pressed her made up lips in horror as she scrutinized her friend Vie’s idea of a weekend destination. An imposing structure of gray moldering stone, the house resembled the stuff of her innermost nightmares. Perched in the passenger’s seat, she clasped the invitation to the event in her lap and tried not to scream. Creepy houses, haunted mansions, funeral homes, and murder mystery weekends were not high on her to do list.
And as of a couple of weeks ago, ghost tours.
She learned a long time ago this was the kind of place to avoid. Talking to ghosts was usually frowned upon and in her experience, most normal people didn’t have an army of the undead trailing behind their every move. Well, not undead exactly. Just disembodied. Everywhere she went, a few more latched on. That was until she learned how to tell them to get lost.
Except Randall.
He just wouldn’t leave. No amount of sage smudging or salt throwing worked. And she had kind of gotten used to him hanging around.
Most of the time.
“Come on. Stop making faces. You told me you’d help with the article. Mercer Cliff is touting their haunted status for this Murder Mystery weekend gig and I want an expert.”
“And you couldn’t ask Laurel?”
Vie studiously kept her eyes on the road. “She was busy.”
“I’ll bet.”
“It’s a free vacation. Come on. You’ll have fun.”
A comeback was on the tip of Zoe’s tongue, but she bit it back. It was nice of Vie to ask her, she supposed. But honestly, she’d have been happier if she’d taken her squeeze or the third partner in crime, Laurel. Ghosts was her thing, too, and she was far more comfortable with her talent than Zoe was.
Movement in the rearview mirror brought Zoe’s eyes up short. Her personal disembodied pain in the ass was sitting in the back seat. Randall, the annoying boy wonder himself, was amusing himself by trying to bump the back of the passenger seat with his knees. Twenty-two and almost a looker, the man had the perverse habits of a five-y
ear-old hyped up on a perpetual sugar high.
Zoe shot him a glare and tried to focus on the immediate problem at hand. The flyer in her lap for a haunted weekend of scary fun, and the building staring down on her from atop the hill. The two just didn’t seem to be a good mix. At least not for her.
“Will you quit kicking me?”
“What? I didn’t do that.” Innocent eyelashes batted in her direction.
“Boy. You better stop messing with my girl. She’s got to help me and if she’s too pissed at you to give me a reading, then I’ll pick a place with zero men and leave you stranded.”
Randall’s mouth gaped open like he was going to respond but he stopped as Zoe twisted around in her seat.
“Just stop. Help me for an hour and you can play with all the sexy guys you can find, okay?”
“Fine.” He harrumphed and flopped back against the car seat as they made their way into the entrance of the property. Long and winding, she could have easily imagined traveling this manicured drive on horseback in another time.
They turned into the main parking area and Zoe winced. Several folks were making their way toward the house. More than she thought would be here.
How many people were on this murder mystery vacation?
“Don’t you love it?” Vie grinned, her eyes on the precarious parking situation. “But they should have told me to come early. God, this parking really sucks.” Vie traversed down the rows of cars in the small parking lot and growled under her breath as someone dived into a spot she was casing.
“Jerk!” Vie weaved into another close by spot and crowed. “Ha!” She jerked the car into position, leaving Zoe’s stomach somewhere back on the main road.
Zoe closed her eyes and counted to ten.
“You said it was a Halloween style murder mystery party themed getaway weekend. Not a stay at the Addams’ Family Mansion.” Zoe struggled to keep her voice calm and keep the nausea at bay. The old flapper dress costume she’d found in the back of her closet suddenly felt a little snugger than when she’d donned it a few hours before. She shifted her feet in the strappy heels and wondered, not for the first time, what the hell she was doing here.
“Why couldn’t Laurel come?”
“Ugh.” Vie snorted. “She’s on some new case. I think she’s going to hit you up for your specter vision when you get home next week, so you better have fun while you can.”