Unquiet Spirits Page 12

  "Good thinking!"

  "Did Raoul frighten her much? Johanna said she looked upset."

  "More shook her up," Bart replied. "He warned her she was in danger here."

  "Ghosts rattle me!" Kit emerged from the bedroom, looking lovely and flushed from her nap. She was wearing turquoise sweats that deepened the blue of her eyes. "Hi, Paavo. You were right. We do have ghosts. I met both of them today."

  "Both?" Paavo looked genuinely startled.

  "We were given a solemn warning by Laila this morning," Bart told him. Kit shot him an angry glance. She always hated it when he answered for her.

  "Laila? But Raoul is the only ghost we've ever had in the lodge!" Paavo stared at him. "You heard her too?"

  "Kit and I were together in the canoe when we saw her, Paavo. She claimed the location of the attacks is misleading. That the source of the danger to Kit was here in Spirit Lake."

  Paavo's ruddy face paled. "Attacks? I knew you were injured by a hit-and-run driver, Kit, but I didn't know it was intentional."

  "My manager who pulled me out of the way is convinced the van was steering right at me, Paavo," Kit admitted.

  "Then, Thursday night, someone shot at her outside her hotel in Toronto," Bart said. "He missed Kit but injured the doorman."

  "Why would the ghost say the source of the danger was here?" Paavo apparently had no difficulty believing they'd talked to a ghost. "Nobody here would want to kill you, Kit!" Paavo looked appalled at the thought. "Johanna and I love you as if you were our own."

  "Could someone who worked for the resort have a grudge against her?" Bart suggested.

  "No one. I'm positive. Kit is the best possible boss. She has always let us run our own show here." He rolled his eyes heavenward. "When I think of trying to please Laila's whims! She was always threatening to fire somebody. I think I heard, 'You can be replaced!' more often than 'Good morning' when she was here."

  That opened up the field in the investigation of Laila's murder. Elsa was the obvious suspect because she made no secret of her hatred of her sister but Bart wondered if perhaps it hadn't been a crime of passion. Maybe Raoul was simply an unexpected witness who had to be eliminated.

  "Laila actually fired Steve Farby--he's one of Ruby's cooks now--for refusing to defend himself when she accused him of falsifying some invoices. I don't mean to put her down but I'm afraid a lot of people found your mother hard to take, Kit. I was fond of her but I didn't always like her."

  Kit patted Paavo's arm. "I can understand that," she said with a wry grimace. "Laila really didn't care much what anyone thought of her."

  "But I don't understand," Paavo said. "Why has her ghost suddenly started appearing? And Raoul becoming visible? What's happening?"

  "They seem to want to make sure we know they were both murdered," Bart said.

  "And they want Raoul's body found and buried properly," Kit added. "I get the impression that if that happens, they'll be able to leave."

  "After all these years... I suppose you are going to try to get the answers." Paavo heaved a great sigh. "I had hoped that we would never know for sure what happened."

  "But you suspected that Raoul hadn't really left," Kit said.

  "You have to understand. At the time, there was so much confusion. The police investigated and decided Laila's drowning was an accident. Then when Raoul left after the funeral, I think we were all relieved. His desperate mourning was hard on Elsa and Elsa made sure her black moods were hard on everybody. Life calmed down after he was gone. I didn't allow myself to think about what might have happened to him."

  "So no one really looked for him," Kit said.

  "Ruby called everyone she knew but the police weren't interested in looking for an adult who had left a note saying he was going away."

  "The note he left for Elsa," Bart said. "What did it say exactly?"

  "Just that he was sorry to wreck all Elsa's plans for the big day but he had to leave right away for an appointment with a really big promoter."

  "Did anyone check the handwriting?"

  "As a matter of fact, Ruby did insist that the bank manager compare it with Raoul's signature. It checked out."

  "Paavo," Kit said thoughtfully, "did you know Rikka Anderson?"

  "Rikka." He frowned. "Not a common name. I think your grandfather had a cousin Rikka. Is that who you mean?"

  "I think so. I was told Laila lived with her for a while after she left home. If Rikka is still alive, I need to talk to her."

  "I wish I could help but I never met her. Maybe Johanna would know more." Paavo looked at his watch. "Seven-thirty!" he exclaimed. "I'm late for a dinner engagement. Enjoy your supper."

  He hurried out the door, taking with him most of Kit's usual self-confidence. She was suddenly shy. For the first time in her life, she didn't know what to say to Bart. He stood quietly beside her, watching Paavo's departing figure through the front window. She was much too aware of him and of her rash decision to seduce him tonight. It had seemed so simple this afternoon. Bart would start his sexual banter and she would pick up on it. They would laugh together and she would kiss him. It wouldn't take long for him to discover she was serious.

  He was close enough that she could smell the light sandalwood scent of his aftershave and almost feel the heat of his body. Her pulse raced at the thought of what might be ahead. He'd been kind and thoughtful today. But not his usual self. She couldn't remember one teasing sexual innuendo. What if he'd changed his mind? What if he no longer wanted her?

  He seemed unusually tense. This silence was going on much too long. Was he having the same kind of thoughts she was? But he couldn't know what she was steeling herself to do. He turned to look at her.

  She couldn't go through with it.

  But, Lord, his deep blue eyes were hot and sexy. And his firm lips just begged to be kissed.

  "Paavo delivered supper," those kissable lips pronounced. Certainly not the provocative quip she was hoping for. "Hungry?"

  She nodded.

  He placed a warm hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the kitchen. His gentle touch made her catch her breath. "Let's see what he brought us."

  She'd make up her mind later. She smiled to herself. Maybe she could do it. All she needed was a little encouragement.

  When he felt her start under his hand, Bart choked down disappointment. Kit was not herself tonight. She was nervous. Every time he touched her or even looked at her, she jumped. He wished he could risk holding her to try to calm her down but he knew once he had her in his arms, he wouldn't be able to stop with a few soothing kisses. Since he'd decided this afternoon that he was going to show Kit how right their lovemaking was going to be, he'd been in a state of semi-arousal. But obviously, tonight was not the night. The Great Seduction would have to wait.

  Kit was busily rummaging in the refrigerator and hauling out the containers of food Paavo had brought. She still hadn't met his eyes.

  "What a wonderful idea. Paavo is such a sweetie," she said. "He knows how much I love his fried chicken. Oh, and potato salad."

  Kit commented on each different salad she discovered as she opened the containers and put them on the table. Bart set out plates and cutlery and put the rolls in the microwave to heat. He uncorked the bottle of chilled Chardonnay and poured some into the stemmed glasses from the wicker basket. Perhaps the wine would help them both to relax.

  Kit sat down and took a sip of her wine. "Perfect," she said with a smile. "Let's take our time with supper and enjoy this."

  "Paavo seems to have forgotten he wasn't cooking for a whole dining room full of people," he commented as he loaded his plate.

  "Mmm," Kit had already bitten into a chicken drumstick. "Delicious." She licked her lips and actually met his eyes. "We won't have to go out to eat for days."

  What was happening here? He could swear that warm look was intended to tell him something he wanted desperately to hear. Was she coming on to him? Or was that sensuous purr all about the chicken?

/>   He raised his wine glass. "To your thoughtful great-uncle," he said. And to the woman who is driving me crazy.

  "To Paavo," she responded with another smoldering look. "And this chicken."

  They ate in silence for a few minutes.

  "When we've finished this feast, what do you say we go through your grandfather's papers?" That might take his mind off the pressure that was building in his lower unit.

  The light in Kit's eyes dimmed a little but she agreed.

  "But not until after we've had some of Paavo's sinfully rich chocolate mousse cake. It's his specialty."

  The cake was delicious and set Kit to purring again. If she weren't at the end of her emotional tether from today's experiences, he would be kissing her and licking the creamy chocolate from her lips. And they would be embarking on the night of their lives!

  "Come on, Brat," he said, standing up abruptly. He'd had all he could take of Kit in this sensuous mood when he had no hope of sharing it more intimately. "Let's get at those papers."

  She looked a little hurt at his sudden change of mood but she picked up their wine glasses and followed him into the living room. They settled down on the sofa with the folder of papers Elsa had given them. My God, was that only this morning?

  Half an hour later, he turned over the last of his pile of the papers.

  "Nothing!" he muttered. "Nothing but invoices, receipts and customer lists for the sawmill."

  "All I got was tax stuff." Kit sounded equally disgruntled. "Not one personal bit of information in the entire file. Not an address or phone number. Elsa must have gone through the file and removed anything that could possibly have been of any use to us. She has definitely passed her resentment of Laila on to me."

  "She was pretty antagonistic this morning. Do you think it's worth appealing to her again?"

  "Probably not," Kit was saying when the strident ring of the telephone at his elbow interrupted.

  "Thornton," he said.

  "I had some luck," Mike's voice announced cheerfully. "I've found Rikka Andersen. She has a condo in an adult community outside Orillia. I spoke to her a few minutes ago. She was about to retire for the night but said she would see you and Kit tomorrow morning at nine A.M. if you'd like to come to her home. I said you would but that I'd get back to her if you had any problem with the time. It's only about a two hour drive."

  'Hold on." He turned to Kit. "Any reason we can't be in Orillia by nine o'clock tomorrow morning?"

  When Kit said there wasn't, he told Mike they would be there and got the Andersen's address from him.

  "Let's hope the private adoption procedure was relaxed enough that Rikka was told the name of the adoptive parents," he said after he'd reported Mike's news. "I'm anxious to find out where your half-brother or sister was when you were being attacked."

  Kit didn't appear to find the news as encouraging as he did.

  "I don't want the attacker to turn out to be my brother or sister," she said. "It would be too cruel to discover I'm not an only child, then find out my newfound sibling wants me dead."

  "I know you don't, Kit. But what I want is a quick capture of the person who's trying to kill you." He hated the feeling he was flailing around at an enemy who seemed less substantial than the ghosts who'd been visiting them. "Tomorrow we might get a name at least."

  A name that came with a nice monetary motive attached. Of course, it would be easier for Laila's child to get part of her estate through the courts than by murder. If he knew Kit, the case wouldn't even go to court. She wouldn't put up a fight if the claim was reasonable.

  "You don't need some long lost brother or sister, Little B." He put his arm around her and nuzzled her hair. "You've got me."

  She spun out of his arms and leapt to her feet, her eyes blazing blue fire.

  "You idiot! You don't qualify!"

  She fixed him with a searing look and stalked toward her bedroom.

  She was furious at him. And he had no idea why.

  Then it hit him. She was angry because he was pretending to revert to his former unthreatening place in her life. She didn't want him as a brother or a cousin! The breakthrough he'd almost despaired of had actually happened.

  Overwhelmed by what she'd revealed, he started after her but she stopped in the doorway and turned to look at him.

  "We'd better get some sleep, Bart," she said in a stiff, rigidly controlled voice. "It's after eleven and we'll have to be on the road by seven tomorrow morning."

  He took a deep breath. If that was the way she wanted to play it, he'd go along.

  This was no time to confront Kit with the reality of their relationship. She had been on an emotional roller coaster all day.

  "Better make that six-thirty," he said as calmly as his racing blood would allow. "We have to allow for extra time to find the condo."

  The moment she closed the door behind her, he punched the air.

  "Yes!" he hissed under his breath. Kit was almost his.

  Chapter Nine

  Kit had expected to lie awake for hours but apparently she'd finished mulling over the uncertainties in her life and had dropped off to sleep the moment her head hit the pillow. When she awoke with the sun streaming in her bedroom window she found herself amazingly refreshed. Simply making the decision that she and Bart were going to make love had released a lot of tension.

  She'd chickened out on the seduction, but she had told him he didn't qualify as a brother. The delighted comprehension in his eyes told her she'd made her point.

  She smelled fresh coffee the minute she opened her door.

  "Morning, Kit," Bart said briskly as he handed her a mug of coffee. "I thought we could stop for breakfast on the road. Unless you'd like something here before we leave."

  "Thanks," she said, taking a sip of the hot black brew. "As soon as I get my fix of caffeine, I'm ready to go."

  "See you in ten minutes." He disappeared into his bedroom.

  He didn't seem to want to talk to her this morning. Of course, when she thought of how she'd fallen apart on him after her encounter with Raoul, she didn't blame him. Today was going to be different. She smiled in anticipation. Bart had no idea how different it was going to be.

  The drive to Orillia went smoothly in spite of the fact that it was raining heavily the whole way. The breakfast at a little Dutch restaurant on the outskirts of Huntsville was pleasant. Kit enjoyed the unique flavor of the pancakes with lingonberry sauce. Bart, of course, had been everywhere including the Netherlands, and chatted comfortably with the proprietor as he wolfed down his breakfast herring.

  They didn't have any trouble finding the condominium complex. Situated on the shores of Lake Couchiching, the fifty-odd spanking new townhouses sat on acres of nicely--if unimaginatively--landscaped land. Each unit was a different shade of pastel aluminium siding from its neighbors. Rikka Andersen's pale green townhouse was at the end of the road right on the lake.

  The pleasant-looking woman who answered the door looked amazingly young for someone who had to be at least seventy years old. Her eyes were bright and curious, her round face was not excessively wrinkled, and her short salt and pepper hair was thick and shiny.

  "My goodness," she said when she saw them, "you don't have to tell me who you are, my dear. You are the image of your mother. I'm Rikka Andersen. Come in. Come in."

  Kit introduced herself and Bart as they followed Rikka into her living room.

  With the exception of several red accent vases, everything in the room was green. The rug was minty green, the sofa and chairs were forest green, and there was ivy everywhere. The result was amazingly restful and appealing.

  "So you're the little girl Laila had when she was living with me," Rikka opened the conversation once they were seated. "I did some figuring this morning. That was forty-two years ago. But that can't be right."

  "So Laila's baby was a girl!" she said. "You don't know how many years I wished I had had a sister. You're right, Mrs. Andersen. I wasn't born until ten years later in
Florida."

  "Please call me Rikka. You too, Bart. My husband had five brothers and there were so many Mrs. Andersens around..." Her rich laugh resounded in the little green room.

  "Thank you, Rikka. But I didn't know about my mother's other child until a couple of days ago and I'd very much like to meet her. Have you any idea where I might find her?"

  "Oh, my dear," Rikka said. "Not even Laila knew where the child was going. Once she had promised her father she would give up the baby for adoption, she insisted that she not see it."

  "That doesn't sound like Laila," Kit protested. Laila had been flighty and willful but never completely callous. "She always cared very much about me."

  "Oh, she wasn't uncaring. She insisted on meeting the hopeful adoptive parents before she would consent to giving them the baby. My brother Karl who was the lawyer who handled the adoption tried to discourage her. Told her if she wanted to divorce herself completely from the child and keep its birth a secret, meeting the parents was a big mistake. But she insisted. She said she didn't have to know their names but she wanted to meet them face to face. Karl eventually gave in."

  "Laila always got her own way," Kit mused. "Come to think of it, being forced to give up the baby is the only example I've heard of when she didn't."

  "Meeting them seemed to reassure her that the child would be loved and looked after," Rikka continued. "Once she'd done that, she felt she had to cut herself off from it completely."

  "Did you meet the adoptive parents?" Bart interrupted.

  "Yes, Karl's assurances weren't enough for me. I needed to see them for myself. They were a lovely couple who already had three adopted children, two boys and a girl. Laila's child was going to round out their family."

  "Could you tell us their name, Mrs....Rikka?" Kit held her breath.

  "I'm sorry. I promised them faithfully I would tell no one. Particularly not Laila's family."