Unquiet Spirits Page 6

  "It's a little cool to take that walk. Why don't we take advantage of our big granite fireplace and relax in front of a fire for a bit before we hit the sack?" he suggested, knowing he was playing with another kind of fire altogether.

  "I'm too tired for exploring anyway," she said. "It's been a long, emotional day." Her slow smile as she gazed up at him made him wonder what she was thinking.

  Suddenly she looked over her shoulder toward the beach. "That's the second time! I can feel somebody out there staring at me. But when I turn to look, there's no one there. I hope I'm not going to start jumping at shadows." Kit sounded truly exasperated at herself.

  Swinging around so that Kit was behind him, Bart turned to survey the lighted path and as far as he could see into the surrounding shrubbery. With the strong east wind stirring the branches, he couldn't tell if anything was moving around out there.

  He grinned and quoted an insult they'd found so hilarious when they were kids, "It's all in your head, Kit, and there's nothing in it. But let's get inside anyway."

  But he didn't think she was imagining things. He was sure no one had followed them up from the city but something out there was making him uneasy too.

  He hurried her into the cabin, then made a quick tour through the rooms to reassure himself that everything was exactly as they had left it. In his bedroom, he stopped to get his Beretta out of his bag. He should have had it with him all evening. He tucked it into the back of his belt and slipped on his leather jacket before he came out into the living room and gave Kit the okay sign.

  "All clear?" she said. Kit was squatting in front of the fireplace lighting the fire that had been laid for them.

  "I thought the wood was only for decoration when we were unpacking in eighty-degree weather this afternoon," he said, as he watched the dry kindling burst into flame. He picked up a flashlight from the telephone table in the entryway. "There's a pretty good drinks selection in that little bar. Why don't you check to see if there's something worth putting in a snifter, while I check around outside. I'll sneak out the glass door. Lock it behind me."

  Chapter Five

  The wind was stronger now and colder. It whispered loudly through the pine needles and roared through the noisy poplar leaves. Bart zipped up his jacket and started his patrol. He could see the moon rising over the nearest island and flooding the beach with light. He'd head down there as soon as he had circled the cabin.

  With the light from the moon and the lantern-shaped fixtures on either side of the front door, Bart hardly needed the flashlight, but he shone it around as far under the trees as the beam would carry. The undergrowth having been cleared away around the cabins, probably to keep the mosquitoes down, there was no place for anyone to lurk around the cabin. Bart was pretty confident no one was in the immediate vicinity.

  The wind had blown in some cloud. Dark ribbons of it drifted across the almost full moon without blocking much of the moonlight. The brilliant moon path on the rough water was dramatic and wild.

  He had walked along the beach as far as the path up to the swimming pool, when he noticed the unusual silence. The wind was still whipping the froth off the tops of the dark waves but it made no sound. He stopped for a moment to listen. This was too odd. Had he gone suddenly deaf?

  He strode quickly up the path. This tour around the lodge building would be a quick one.

  He heard a nighthawk's high-pitched screech. Then the natural sound of the wind in the trees. Thank God, his hearing had returned to normal. What could have caused his sudden deafness?

  The security lights around the resort were beaming over the swimming pool, walkways and parking lots. Not a person was in evidence anywhere. From what he could see through the windows, the interior of the lodge itself was in darkness except for a few lights in the lobby and the ends of the corridors. And, of course, in Johanna's second floor suite.

  Everything seemed to be secure; however, he understood Kit's uneasiness. There was an unsettling atmosphere about the place.

  Possibly they were feeling the isolation of the resort. Both he and Kit were used to living in big, busy cities. Here, in the off-season for tourists, there probably weren't a half dozen people within ten miles of them.

  He was more relieved than he wanted to admit to get into the warm cabin and close the door behind him.

  In the living room, with her face almost pressed against the glass doors, Kit was peering intently out at the lake. She whirled around when he entered. Her eyes were wide and frightened and her face was drained of all color.

  "What happened?" He rushed to her side.

  "Who was that couple on the beach?" Kit's normally soft voice was shrill.

  "I didn't see any couple," he replied slowly.

  "They were walking along the beach, heading this way, right after you went out. You must have seen them." Kit's hands flew wildly as she spoke. "The woman waved at you. Then you stopped for a minute before they went up the path to the lodge ahead of you."

  "Kit," he grasped her shoulders and held her still for a moment, "I didn't see anybody." He looked directly into her eyes, trying to calm her with the force of his mind. "It must have been a trick of the light. Clouds passing across the moon can make strange shadows."

  "Listen to me, Bart. That was no trick of light. There was a thin man... not as tall as you but taller than the woman. She was about my height, I think. And she waved..." Kit caught her breath and shook her head as if in disbelief.

  Pulling her into his arms, Bart patted and stroked her back as if she were an upset child. "What is it, Kittle?"

  Kit relaxed against him for a moment, then pulled back and held up her right hand. She closed the fingers into a fist, then splayed the fingers out wide a couple of times. "Like this," she whispered. "She did it like this. And that's how Laila always waved. She always said if the queen had her own special wave, she could have hers. When I was little, she called it throwing stars."

  "Oh, Kittle." He held her closer. He hated to see her so upset. He should have realized how hard the last couple of days had been for her. After the drive-by shooting, returning to the lake where her mother had drowned was more than Kit's nerves could take.

  "You could be right. We'll ask Johanna in the morning if there were a couple of guests in the lodge that she neglected to mention. That's probably who they were. It's possible that I missed them."

  The moment the soothing words were out of his mouth, he knew he'd made a big mistake.

  "And it's possible that you are a horse's ass!" Kit wrenched herself out of his embrace. Her face was flushed with indignation and fury. "Don't you dare humor me, Bart Thornton. I'm not imagining things. I don't know why you didn't see them but I know I saw those Spirit Lake ghosts that everyone refuses to talk about."

  "I did not see them," he repeated quietly.

  "You don't believe me." She glared at him.

  "I won't lie to you. I don't know what to believe. I still have trouble accepting that Bret and I saw your friend Yvette's ghost last summer. I know it happened but I can't make it fit into my view of what really exists in this world. I'm sorry."

  He didn't apologize often and Kit knew it. Her expression softened a little.

  "Don't be angry. I'll try to keep an open mind. In the morning, I'll do my damnedest to pin down Johanna about her 'hauntings.' And we'll see if we can find Paavo."

  "He wasn't afraid to mention the ghost," Kit agreed.

  He went over to the bar, splashed a healthy shot of cognac into each of two snifters and handed one to Kit. "Don't sip," he said. "Take a good swallow. Then come sit in front of the fire."

  He took a large swallow himself and felt the burn all the way down his esophagus. Not the best cognac he'd ever drunk. However, almost immediately, he felt the warmth start to spread.

  She gave him one last resentful glance, swallowed a mouthful of the fiery liquid and winced. "Now I know why I don't drink this stuff."

  "This one is medicinal," he told her as he sat down beside
her on the couch. "Take another swig."

  She made a disgusted face and shook her head violently. "I don't like it."

  "One more swallow. Once that hits bottom, you should stop quaking."

  This mouthful made her choke and gasp. When she could breathe again, she gave him a crooked smile and said, "Am I supposed to say something about what a great cognac this is?"

  "No. You're supposed to sit back, look at the crackling fire and tell me I'm not only the nicest jackass you know, I'm the best looking and most brilliant."

  When she placed her hand on his chest and met his eyes, he could see she was relaxing. Her composure was far from restored but her color had returned to normal.

  "I'm sorry Bart. I shouldn't have screamed at you. And you are the nicest jackass I know."

  "How about the rest of it?"

  She shook her head but she did smile.

  "I'll take what I can get. For being so gracious, I'll even get you something to drink you might enjoy more than cognac. Wine, soda, tea?"

  "Thanks, but I had plenty of everything at Johanna's." From the way she was slurring her words, he figured she had. "Just be a good jackass and hold me a little."

  Holding his breath, he lowered his arm which had been resting along the back of the couch and draped it loosely around her. She pulled her feet up under her and curled up against him, resting her cheek on his chest.

  "Ah," she sighed. "So comfortable. I'm not too heavy, am I?"

  He gathered her delectable body closer and smiled wryly. There would not even be a passionate kiss tonight. That cognac, on top of the wine with dinner, was apparently more than Kit could handle.

  Her breathing was getting slower and deeper. He could get used to holding Kit and listening to her even breathing as she slept. But he was determined to have so much more than that. Soon, Kit would give him her passion with the same intensity that she had always given him her unqualified, loving friendship and loyalty. She was worth waiting for.

  Suddenly, she gave a gentle little snort and seemed to awaken long enough to say, "You're right, you know, sweetheart."

  Sweetheart? What happened to jackass?

  "I'll make Johanna explain. She lured me here by suggesting something strange was damaging the resort's image but..." She drifted off again.

  What had Kit seen? He certainly hadn't encountered any ghostly spirits walking the beach. But she was convinced Laila's spirit had waved at her. Could the sudden eerie silence he'd experienced for a few seconds be connected with Kit's sighting?

  He took a deep breath. Snuggling with Kit in front of a blazing fire was not something he could do much longer. He had fought the impatient stirrings in his groin as long as he could. Another minute or two and he wouldn't be able to resist the urge to kiss every sensitive spot on her drowsy body until she needed him as much as he needed her.

  But not when she'd had too much to drink! It was past time to put her to bed... her own bed... alone.

  Bart hoisted Kit into his arms and got to his feet. He carried her into her room, yanked down the duvet and placed her gently down on the bed.

  She clung to him. "No," she mumbled. "Stay with me, Bart."

  "I don't dare," he said, untangling her arms from around his neck. "But next time you ask, Kittle, look out!"

  He tucked the duvet under her chin and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Then forced himself to walk out of the room... fast.

  Kit woke to the sound of bird song and the delicious aroma of bacon and coffee. She opened her eyes, then closed them again quickly. The morning light coming in her window sent a sharp pain through her temples.

  She hadn't had this kind of a headache since New Year's Eve when she and Uncle Will had finished off the pitcher of grasshoppers he had concocted for her. But she hadn't overindulged last night. Then she remembered the cognac Bart insisted she drink. She also remembered the reason why he'd insisted she drink it.

  Against the insides of her eyelids, she could still see the sharp silhouettes of her mother and a slim man strolling hand in hand in the moonlight. The worst of the shock was over but she was still shaken by the experience.

  But why would Laila be walking the beach? She couldn't be seeking vengeance. Her drowning had been an accident. Oh, God! No one had ever even hinted her mother might have been murdered. Kit took a deep breath. She mustn't overreact. Somehow she had to treat this bizarre situation logically.

  She wondered if Johanna and Paavo knew that their ghost was Laila. Well, she couldn't find out if she didn't get out of bed.

  Cautiously, she opened her eyes again. This time wasn't so bad. Then she noticed that she was still in the jeans and T-shirt she'd worn last night. Oh no! Bart must have had to put her to bed. And she vaguely remembered snuggling up to him in front of the fire. Way to send mixed messages! What a way to begin her life as the spanking new Kit.

  She grabbed a fresh pair of jeans, underwear and a turquoise cotton shirt and stumbled into the bathroom. At least she would be clean when she faced Bart. And she would be so breezy and sisterly that his teeth would ache from the sweetness and light.

  By the time she appeared in the kitchen, her hair was still damp but her teeth were clean and the pills she'd taken were beginning to take effect.

  "Morning, sunshine," Bart called out to her from the kitchen. "Your orange juice is poured. Your toast just popped, your bacon is in the oven keeping warm and you can get your own coffee."

  "You are disgustingly cheerful," she said. She picked up her juice and drained half of it before going to the breakfast table where Bart was spreading what looked like homemade jam on his toast. "But thanks." She bent down and kissed him on the cheek. "You're a sweetheart."

  "That's twice you called me that. Be careful or I'll wonder if you have designs on my virtue."

  She laughed. "Virtue?"

  "Eat your breakfast, Brat. We have to get out and coax some answers out of your relatives."

  Calling her "Brat" was a good sign. Apparently, he, too, wanted to pretend they could revert to the Three B's.

  "Mmm. Nice crisp bacon," she told him, concentrating on her plate and avoiding his eyes.

  "I've been thinking about seeing ghosts walk by me on the beach without my noticing. What if someone was projecting a hologram of the two figures? I don't know how directional the equipment is. What do you think? If the show was set up for viewing only from the angle of this cabin, that could be the answer."

  "Who'd want to convince us the place is haunted? It isn't as if someone is trying to drive us out or wants to buy the place and is attempting to drive the price down." She drank some more of her coffee. "I don't think so."

  "Probably not. Holograms would take a lot of high tech skill and equipment," Bart agreed. "But we can't rule anything out. Okay, here's this morning's plan. You get Johanna to tell you what the lodge ghosts have supposedly been up to and I'll try to find out who she told about your Toronto theater plans. And it wouldn't hurt to get Betsy's take on the ghosts."

  "I doubt if we'll get anything except her pitch for getting tourists to next year's sugaring off activities. But I'll try."

  * * *

  Someone was tuning the baby grand on the little stage in the bar against the background rhythm of hammering in the dining room when they entered the lodge. Betsy, who was at the computer behind the reception desk, waved at them.

  "I'll be right there," she called. "Johanna had to go into town to pick up something. She said to tell you she'd be back this afternoon."

  "Do you know when Paavo's expected today?" Bart asked.

  "I'm not sure he's coming in today," she said. "I assumed Johanna would be here to take the piano tuner home when we made our appointment. She has eyesight problems and her sister who usually drives her can't be here this morning. I'm afraid I'll be tied up here for another hour or so. Do you want to have a coffee? It's set up in the bar."

  "I don't know that I need another coffee. Why don't we return Elsa's car and see how she's feeling this morning, Ba
rt?" Kit suggested. "We need to talk to her anyway."

  "Joel and I dropped in first thing and she had a good night. Actually, she's gone into town with Johanna. I do wish I didn't have to hang around with the piano tuner. I'd love to show you all the renovations while you wait."

  "You're apparently a hands-on consultant," Bart commented.

  Betsy blushed. "I know I said I didn't work here all the time but Elsa was there and I didn't want to embarrass her. The truth is that I've been doing her job for quite a while. She wasn't feeling well for a long time before they diagnosed the cancer. Then she was in Sudbury for a few weeks for the treatments. Then, Johanna asked me to take over the housekeeping preparations for the big opening next month. Of course, I'm still planning the possible expansion of our activities into the maple bush and kiddieland."

  "Get on with whatever you were doing. Don't worry about us. Bart and I can wander about on our own for an hour or so. Just give me your master keys. I know pretty well what work we've had done."

  Kit knew exactly what she wanted to see. She realized now it was the one area that had not been listed on the renovations list. "I'll give you a call at the desk if I need any information."

  She led Bart into the large bar that opened off the lobby. The maroon-carpeted floor with its tiers of round tables and armchairs was sloped slightly toward a little dance floor. On its little round stage the bar shared with the dining room beyond it, a small dark-haired woman was busily tuning a baby grand.

  "Looks like Johanna is actually going ahead with live entertainment on the weekends. I don't think that's happened since Raoul left the area."

  As soon as she was sure they were out of earshot of the reception desk, she added, "I want to see the tower suite. That's where Laila and I stayed and I want to know why Johanna was determined not to put us in there."

  They did a quick tour of the dining room and exited by the door to the patio and pool area. The kidney-shaped pool was attractive but the area looked bare without deck chairs and tables.