Unquiet Spirits Page 7

  "What's that building?" Bart asked, pointing to a small wooden building at the far side of the pool fairly close to the beach.

  "Change rooms and sauna," Kit told him. "That was one of the first renovations Johanna requested. With her Finnish upbringing, she loves to have a really hot sauna then beat herself with birch twigs and leap off the dock into the cold water of the lake."

  Bart shuddered. "What, no chains and leather?" he said with a grin.

  "She and I had a sauna last time I was here but I skipped the twigs. Johanna insists it's wonderful for the circulation. You and I will have to try it. It's relaxing."

  "Relaxing? That's not the word that comes to mind when I think of getting hot and sweaty with you, Kittle." The look he gave her was steamy enough to match any sauna. "But I'm game to try it. We'll have to have our sauna before the summer help arrive, though, if we're going to do it properly."

  The thought of doing a sauna "properly" with Bart made Kit swallow hard. She had visions of his big muscular naked body with sweat trickling down his strong neck, the planes of his chest wet and gleaming in the misty light, with drops of sweat mingling with the steam and beading on his body hair...

  Bart's broad grin told her he knew exactly the direction her thoughts were taking.

  "Come on, Bart," she said, heading through the back door to the elevators. "I want to see what Johanna is hiding in the tower suite."

  Inside the elevator, Bart pointed at the buttons. "All right, button one is the floor with Johanna's suite and guest rooms."

  "Two is the tower suite and three is the library. I used to love it up there. Want to see it first?"

  The pleasant smell of leather and old books greeted them when they stepped off the elevator. A large picture window filled one wall on the lake side of the room. The other walls were lined from floor to ceiling with shelves filled with faded leather and cloth volumes. Comfortable leather-covered easy chairs and loveseats were nicely spaced around the room and a massive leather couch faced the window.

  "Laila had that sliding wooden ladder installed when she bought the lodge so that none of the books would be beyond her reach."

  "And that wrought iron staircase leads to the cupola?" Bart guessed.

  "That's where I went to read." Kit put her foot on the first step. She remembered how much fun it had been to race up inside this openwork cylinder. Each triangular step was attached to a central metal pole and to the bottom of an ornate iron handrailing that wound around the spiral staircase. By the time she got to the top she was always a little dizzy.

  Bart caught her hand. "Let me go up first."

  Kit's automatic reaction was to refuse to be ordered around but Bart's serious look made her swallow her objection. "You're taking this 'studly bodyguard' business seriously, aren't you?"

  He didn't reply but grasped the handrailing firmly and shook it. The metal joints squeaked a little but after close examination he pronounced the structure secure enough.

  "I don't think this room gets a lot of traffic," he said as he started to climb.

  "That's why I used to come up here."

  The stairs complained a little as they took his weight but didn't seem to be in any danger of collapse. He disappeared for a moment at the top then reappeared.

  "All clear up here," he called down to her.

  She made her noisy way up the stairs and emerged into the bright comfortable haven she remembered so well. The cupola was always warm with sunlight streaming through the panes of glass. She started over to open the vents at the top of the windows when she caught a whiff of disturbingly familiar perfume.

  "Someone's been up here," Bart said. "And recently."

  "That perfume..." Kit wandered around the little room looking for something, anything that would explain what she was sensing. Nothing had changed in all those years. The upholstered bench seat that circled the room was the same.

  The only difference was the half dozen large, sun-faded floor cushions that had always been piled neatly in the corner were spread haphazardly around the floor. The scent seemed strongest there. She breathed it in.

  "Laila had that scent created for her when we were living in France. You can smell it?"

  "I remember now. Laila always wore that perfume."

  Kit whispered, "It's as if she just left the room. Why is this happening?"

  Bart dragged a couple of cushions into a pile and sat on them, drawing Kit down beside him. "We need to think a minute, Kit," he said, leaning back against the upholstered bench with his arm around her shoulders. The pose was casual but the sensations that raced through her body at the contact were electric. "There's been so much talk of ghosts we're ready to leap to conclusions. Could Laila have given someone a bottle of that perfume or left any of it here?"

  "It's unlikely. It was her signature scent. And after her funeral, Uncle Will and I cleared everything of Laila's out of the tower suite. She had only one suitcase with her that last trip. She wouldn't have brought more than her purse atomizer with her. And can you think of any reason anyone would try to convince us Laila's ghost is here in the tower?"

  "And if it is really her ghost, what does it want with us?" Bart stopped and wrapped both arms around her. "Tell me I didn't say that!" he said into her hair.

  Kit slid her hands under his jacket and encountered the weapon he carried in his belt at the small of his back. Surprised that he carried it with him this morning, she looked up at him.

  "That was no ghost who shot at you," he said. "We can't get distracted from the real danger."

  She burrowed back into his warmth. Poor logical Bart sounded as if he needed comfort more than she did. These signs of Laila's presence didn't distress her. They confused her and tested her assumptions about the world around her but they didn't frighten her. Laila, alive, was self-centered and frequently thoughtless but she was never malicious. If Laila was here, they had nothing to fear from her.

  Maybe she could help her straighten out her feelings about Bart. She smiled against Bart's chest. Some hope! When it came to men, Laila had the worst judgment in the world.

  Bart brushed some stray hairs off her forehead and tilted her chin up so that they could look into each other's eyes. When he lowered his deep blue gaze to her lips, she couldn't help but part them in anticipation. He nibbled lightly at her lips. When he slowly inserted his tongue into her mouth, she sucked on it gently, then gradually imitated his intimate stroking and exploring of her mouth. This kiss was sweet and leisurely. Bart seemed to be telling her they had all the time in the world to explore their feelings. That they could be together. She threw away all common sense and surrendered to his delicious warmth and her need to be held and loved.

  The warmth quickly turned to blazing heat. Nothing had ever felt as good as Bart's hands stroking and caressing her arms, then her back. When he slipped them under the hem of her T-shirt and she could feel the heat of his fingers against her skin, she moaned. Then they moved around to the sides of her breasts and, finally, he took the weight of her breasts in the palms of his hands.

  Their shirts had to go. She tugged his shirt out of his shorts and ran her hands over his smooth back.

  He lifted her onto his lap and lowered his head to suck her swollen nipple through the lace of her bra. She stifled a cry of pure pleasure.

  From below, she heard a muffled, scuffling sound. Obviously, Bart heard it too because he raised his head from her breast.

  Footsteps, then silence came from the library below. Kit sat up straight and strained to hear. She caught fragments of inarticulate whispers, then a woman's joyous burst of laughter. A male voice rumbled quietly.

  Bart stiffened. "Who is down there?" he whispered.

  She hoped the couple were strangers but she had a feeling she knew who it was. From the look on Bart's face, she figured she wasn't the only one who recognized Laila's laugh.

  After another long pause, a sultry feminine voice said something too low to understand. The man chuckled. The woman laughed a
gain.

  After a short silence, there were more indistinct words, then thumps of something hitting the floor and rustling sounds.

  "Are they getting undressed?" she asked in disbelief.

  "Sounds like they're in a hurry," Bart said.

  A few moans and some rhythmic creaking of sofa springs confirmed their suspicions.

  "Right to business. Not much finesse," Bart commented with an amused grimace. "And we're trapped up here. This is embarrassing."

  Kit agreed. They couldn't leave without alerting the couple to their presence. That metal staircase made sneaking out impossible. And they were going to have to leave soon. The sighs and moans from the library were more arousing than she wanted to admit and one glance told her the effect they were having on Bart's body.

  She stood up and tiptoed over to the top of the staircase.

  "I can't see anyone from this angle."

  Bart caught her and pulled her back. "Stay back. We don't know who's down there. Just because they're horny doesn't mean they're harmless."

  "But who can they be?"

  "One thing is for sure. We're not hearing ghosts. Those two definitely have bodies."

  The moans were getting louder and the thumping was speeding up.

  If this kept up much longer, she and Bart were going to be back on those carelessly piled floor cushions. Bart must have caught her expression because he gave her a knowing chuckle.

  "Keep that thought, sweetheart. We'll be back," he whispered.

  The building crescendo of noises from below reached its peak and the male voice shouted one hoarse word. "Laila!"

  Without considering what she might find in that little room, Kit flew down the metal stairway.

  "Kit, stop!" She heard Bart call to her but did not stop her headlong dash. There had to be some reason her mother had chosen this bizarre way to appear to her. No matter what she found in that little room, she had to know.

  Kit's canvas shoes slapped down on the creaking stairs. Bart was right behind her. His heavier footsteps pounding down made the whole structure shudder.

  The room was empty.

  Bart pushed past her with his Beretta drawn as they advanced on the back of the leather couch. Only silence and the scent of French perfume greeted them.

  Not so much as a hair or an indentation on the leather remained as evidence of the ghostly lovers and their enthusiastic passion.

  Chapter Six

  "I don't know if I'm disappointed or relieved that I didn't come face to face with a couple of naked ghosts," Bart said as the elevator reached the lobby.

  "Nothing about this is amusing, Bart. Johanna should have warned me."

  Kit's stormy face told him his feisty Kit was back. Anger was healthier than the fragile state she'd been in since the shooting incident.

  The elevator doors were closing behind them when he saw Betsy dash in through the front doors.

  "Great timing," she exclaimed when she spotted them. "Ready to check out the playland site?"

  "No," Kit bit out. "Not until we have a chat about the tower ghosts."

  "Ghosts?" Betsy's smile faded. "You should talk to Johanna about..."

  "I want you to tell me what's been going on here. Johanna mentioned some talk about hauntings in her letter and has barely allowed a minute to speak to me since I arrived." Kit grasped Betsy by the arm and took her over to a table just inside the entrance to the bar.

  Bart sat back to enjoy watching Kit in action. Betsy was a businesswoman in familiar surroundings, ten years older than Kit and two inches taller, but Kit was clearly dominant. Her blue eyes blazed steadily at the older woman as she waited for her to speak. Betsy's blue eyes looked everywhere but at Kit's face while she obviously searched for words. Finally, she looked directly at her and forced a smile.

  "I think Johanna has overreacted to reports of a few unusual sounds in the night," she said. "And once the rumor got around that a guest or two had heard something strange, an amazing number of people were sure the lodge was haunted."

  "Betsy, Bart and I were in the cupola library a few minutes ago. Believe me, the ghosts are not a rumor."

  "You said 'ghosts.' Did you see more than one?"

  "We didn't see any," Bart interrupted, catching Kit's eye. "We heard voices."

  "We've only heard of one ghost!" Betsy gasped. "Both guests told us the ghost was a man."

  "They saw him?"

  "No. They heard him laughing. The first one swears some invisible spirit was juggling his girlfriend's underwear and his socks and briefs at the foot of the bed. Then when the girlfriend started to cry, the ghost gave a loud nasty laugh."

  "So the ghost can be a joker. Was the other episode more upsetting?" Kit asked.

  "It was to the man who found all his condoms tied in knots," Betsy said. "He heard the laughter too. And the ghost called his girlfriend by name and warned her the condoms were much too large for the equipment." Betsy giggled. "The guest was really steamed when she told us about that."

  "Sounds like a serious message to me," Bart said with a grin. "I'd think twice about a relationship if I got that kind of supernatural interference."

  "If we weren't in the resort business, I might find it really funny," Betsy said. "But it's the kind of thing that could put the Seppanens out of business. That's why we thought we should change the focus of our advertising. Instead of promoting Spirit Lake as a romantic getaway, we would create a kiddie playland. The maple sugar operation would give us a theme. A restaurant on site could feature waffles and pancakes and a souvenir shop would have our own special maple candy and little syrup bottles."

  "That's not going to be enough if the ghost continues his antics. I doubt if parents will want to take their children to a haunted resort." Kit frowned.

  "The only hauntings have occurred in the tower suite," Betsy said. "And we've decided not to put guests in there any more."

  "How long has the ghost been doing pranks in the tower suite?" Bart asked.

  "As far as I know, it started a couple of months before the lodge closed for renovations," Betsy said. "I honestly don't think it's been around long. The first report seemed to surprise Johanna. You'll have to ask her."

  "Or Paavo," Bart said.

  "I appreciate your being open with us, Betsy. And I'll explain to Johanna that I didn't give you any choice," Kit said, getting to her feet. "Let's get back on track and check out your plans for the site."

  "It's a beautiful day for it." Betsy slipped into her sales pitch mode again. "There have been so many hot days already this season that the lake water is unusually warm and the black flies have pretty well been killed off."

  They walked briskly past the cabin they were staying in along the single lane of pavement to the cluster of larger guest cabins at the far end of the resort property. Suddenly, just past the last cabin, they were in the woods. Bart was intrigued by the contrast between the manicured grounds of the resort and the natural state of the fresh green undergrowth they plunged into. The path through the towering maple trees to the sawmill property was overgrown and rough but not impassible. The air was pleasantly warm and late morning sun filtering through the screen of maple leaves dappled the mossy ground. The ground was soft and loamy but last fall's dry leaves crunched under his feet. He breathed in deeply.

  "I can see why you wanted to come up here," he said, reaching out to take Kit's hand.

  "I used to take Raoul's golden retriever pup for runs down this path," Kit told him. "I wonder if Raoul took Pitou with him when he left. Goodness, that's seventeen years ago. Pitou would be long gone."

  The stripped sawmill frame stood alone in the middle of a large clearing.

  "It looks strange," Kit mused. "It used to have a high tower and a long flexible metal belt that fed the logs to the saw blades. When they were cut, the belt took the boards up and dropped them in a big pile over there."

  "All of that was dismantled and sold off along with the saw," Betsy reported.

  "I guess the famil
y house is gone too."

  Betsy shook her head. "Actually, Elsa lives in it. She had it put on a trailer and hauled to a lot she bought in the village. This building should have gone too, of course, but Elsa feels nostalgic about it so Johanna agreed to leave it standing as long as possible. I was hoping that if you approve the whole scheme, we could get the demolition done and the debris carted away before the grand reopening."

  "A lot of your ideas sound good, Betsy," Kit told her. "I'll try to have my decision to you in a day or two."

  Bart could sense Kit digging her heels in. She never did like to be pushed.

  As they walked the area, Bart felt the tension growing in Kit until she was almost trembling with it. She needed a break from the emotional impact of the resort. Laila had died here. And her ghost apparently lingered at the resort.

  "It's noon. Let me take you into the grand metropolis of Huntsville for lunch, Kit. I need to pick up a few things while we're there. My carry-on bag has only the essentials."

  Betsy recommended a couple of restaurants. That gave him the opening he was looking for. "What do you do for evening entertainment in the area, Betsy?" he asked.

  "Not much. The focus is really on outdoor sports up here. There's always movies. Bowling. A number of the lodges have live entertainment."

  "I guess you drive down to Toronto to catch a show now and then." Kit sneaked in her little prompt.

  "Joel and I go down to see my dad as often as possible since my mom died last year. We often take him to see a show."

  "I was surprised at the number of musicals playing this week."

  "You chose a good one. Johanna asked me if I thought you'd like it. I hope you did," Betsy said.

  So, Betsy had known where Kit was Thursday night.

  "About your lunch..." she added. "If you don't feel like doing the half-hour drive to town and you're content with good plain food, there's Ruby's here in the village. She makes her own burgers and the fish in her fish and chips is fresh, caught locally."

  "I had the best burgers of my life at Ruby's." Kit turned to Bart with real animation in her face.

  "Junk food forever!" Bart quoted the Three B's cheer with a chortle.