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“Sasha, that’s right. Sasha. Why can’t I ever remember that name?” Mae asked. “Oh! Maybe it’s because no one could possibly keep track of the women who come and go through your ever so charming lives!”
“Mae! We’re just looking for true love,” Clint said dryly.
“My foot! You’re looking for the next great body. But I think that the two of you could be left in the dust by this new visitor,” Mae informed them with a sagely spoken pleasure.
“Well, of course, because with Matt’s brand of charm, she’ll be heading straight back to Washington,” Carter said with a sigh. He arched a brow to Matt. “I can recall a few times when you might have been a little rough on Lavinia.”
“At least he married her first,” Mae said.
“I was never that rude to Lavinia—even in the midst of divorce,” Matt said, irritated with himself that he was still feeling defensive, and now being reminded of his disastrous marriage.
“See, Mae? You can’t rush into marriage,” Carter said. “Look at the whole Lavinia thing. There she was—the most gorgeous thing breathing on earth, and what a manipulative witch.”
“We just didn’t have the same concept of a life well lived,” Matt said, wondering why in the hell he should suddenly defend even his ex-wife. Simple fact, Lavinia had been a bitch. Rich, spoiled, and heedless of anyone around her.
“We’re all missing the point here,” old Anthony Larkin suddenly pointed out. “Mae, seems to me the world has changed a lot since I was a young man. Hell, yes, these young people should find out if they’re going to make it in an affair before tying the knot. Divorces are too easy these days, and they’re still hard as hell on people. Especially on their kids!”
“Well, thankfully, Matt and Lavinia didn’t have kids. A devil’s tail might have shown up on one of them,” Clint said. “I think Lavinia’s had plastic surgery to get rid of hers, but genetically, it would have still been there.”
“Lavinia is gone, and it’s over,” Matt said flatly.
“That Sibel, Shana, or Sheila girl Clint was dating wasn’t a bitch,” Mae said with a sniff. “Opinionated, and intelligent, and ready to take care of herself. But she wasn’t a bitch.”
Clint offered an exaggerated sigh. “Mae, her name was Sasha. Sasha Bennett. And the problem with our great affair was that she wanted me to move to Texas! And wait a minute—we’re getting off the subject here.”
Anthony shook his white head in a way that made his beard rake back and forth over his chest. “All right, here’s my opinion from an old geezer, Matt. Let’s forget about past transgressions—committed by the lot of you. Every woman isn’t a potential affair. This one seems darned regal and intelligent. She was sent here to work. Matt, you’re having trouble up at your place. You told me yourself, you called your grandfather’s old friend Harrison after you received his letter. Key concept here—you called him. So—just why were you such a jerk to that girl?”
“She looks too much like Lavinia,” Clint said.
“No, she doesn’t,” Carter argued. “She has the walk, the movement…kind of like a natural grace. That’s all that’s the same.”
Matt scowled at them both. “Hey, looks have nothing to do with anything, gentlemen.”
“Gentlemen?” Mae said with a sniff.
“I’m unhappy about the whole thing, I suppose. And yes, I called Adam after I got the letter, but that’s the point—I expected Adam Harrison himself,” Matt admitted ruefully. “And then again, maybe it all did have something to do with her appearance.” He glared at Clint and Carter. “Not that she resembles Lavinia in any way.”
“She doesn’t. She’s really much prettier,” Mae put in.
“But,” Matt continued. “She doesn’t look like any hard-core investigator, does she?”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Carter said.
“Hey, they say you’re going to let Liz do a seance,” Anthony Larkin reminded him. “How hard-core would that be?”
“Liz was close with Gramps, too,” Matt said. “A really great nurse to him toward the end. I owe her.” He shrugged. “She begged when I told her that I had people coming down who were supposedly ghost experts. She wanted first crack at a seance, before any out-of-towners took over. She also holds her Women’s Town Meeting in the house once a month, and it’s a big event that makes the house a good income.”
Anthony shrugged. “Figured it had to be something like that. I ran into her down at the drugstore. She said that she’d been pleading with you, just for herself, since she’s so sure she feels all that cold stuff, especially in the upstairs bedroom. And she said that the writer could come in, and the new guy from the Chamber of Commerce. So…it’s a crock if you’re keeping out that pretty girl because she’s more about ghosts than finding out if something natural is going bump in the middle of the night.”
“And damn, but she is good-looking,” Clint supplied.
Matt nodded slowly. They were all right—and he had been one hell of an ass to the woman. She had just hit a raw nerve with him, he supposed, looking as if she had just stepped off a fashion page, heels clicking on the floor, manicured nails expressive in the air as she spoke, her face that of a sophisticated angel—or siren, one or the other.
Redheads were always trouble.
“I’m just irritated, I guess. Maybe I do owe her an apology.”
The phone rang stridently from the bar. He felt a surge of anger. She was already calling. Mae picked up the phone.
“Hello…yes, Penny, he’s here. He’s got his cell phone turned off again, huh? Well, he’s sitting here, sure as can be. Shouldn’t have that cell phone turned off, Matt, you know that,” she said, her hand over the receiver.
“Shirley at the station knows where I am, and that’s all that matters,” Matt said.
“Penny knows you’re here now, come on over and talk to her! Please!” Mae insisted, seeing the stubborn set to his jaw.
Matt cast Mae an evil eye, then rose to accept the receiver from behind the bar. Penny came on the line.
“Yes?”
“Matt, I heard you gave that girl from New York an absolutely wretched time!”
“Penny, I really did no such thing. And how did you hear so fast?”
Matt looked around. Sure enough, Marty Sawyer—Penny’s nephew—who had been watching Carter’s pool game was now nowhere to be seen. He’d slunk out already.
“Matt Stone! There is so much good to be done here! Principal Joe from the grade school was telling me how much the schoolchildren just loved the living history productions we did last summer, and you know as well as I do that you can’t keep that kind of program going if we don’t make sure that the house is entirely safe. And you’ve already agreed that we can let the seance go on.”
“Because even though I don’t believe in such a thing as a ‘medium,’ I like Elizabeth!” he said irritably.
“You’re going to make a tiny percentage off Elizabeth—compared to what Adam Harrison is paying to investigate your property. He usually charges people for his services. Now you know that I personally think that the ghosts are wonderful, but even I’m getting nervous here. Think about poor Clara’s face—and don’t go telling me she bumped into a wall. We need our ghost stories, some of them are so great. Passion, spurned lovers, murders, suicides! But…there’s something not at all right going on as well. Oh, Matt, please! If you really love the house and our history and want to keep the place open, not to mention in the family!—please let this girl come and get started on her investigations, no matter what it is, exactly, that she does.”
He gazed back at the bar. Everyone was staring at them. Penny was speaking loudly. They could all hear. “Penny—you’re right. Murders and suicides. The woman in white who’s been seen floating around the staircase. You know what? It isn’t going to matter what I do—the stories are going to circulate forever.”
“I’ve seen the woman in white,” Penny said stubbornly.
“Penny, you drank half the wine cellar that night,” he reminded her.
“Nevertheless, this is important. Yes, we’ll have stories, no matter what. But you said yourself that you were suspicious that someone was causing some of the ‘haunting.’ How will you ever know, or prove anything?”
“Penny, I am the sheriff. I know a few things about investigating occurrences on my own.”
“Matt, where’s your patriotism?”
“What?” he said incredulously.
“The house is so important. What if someone really gets hurt?”
He almost smiled. It was a new line of attack.
From the table, he heard the sound of David Jenner clearing his throat. “You know, Matt, things haven’t been that great. I could really use the work.”
“Right. You know, we’re not all rich, kind of famous, and born with absolutely legitimate names,” Clint said, grinning with a shrug.
“Matt, maybe you could do us all some good,” Carter told him.
“You won’t have to do a thing,” Penny’s voice said from over the phone wire. “Give Ms. Tremayne my number. And I’ll handle everything. You don’t have to come anywhere near the house if you don’t want to while she’s in it. But first, you go over right now and get her out of that ramshackle hotel where’s she staying.”
“Hey!”
Carter could obviously hear Penny. He owned the ramshackle hotel.
Again, Matt couldn’t help but grin. “Hell, all right.”
“Matt, honestly, you don’t even have to be involved, I’ll do everything, I swear! Dammit, Matt, you’re the one who called Adam Harrison, why are you balking now?”
“Because I expected Adam Harrison,” he said, feeling like a broken record, his temper rising. Impatiently, he said, “I’ll talk to her, Penny.” Then he hung up.
Mae grinned like a kid with a candy bar. “This is so cool—Melody House is getting real live ghost busters.”
“They’re not ghost busters, Mae,” Matt said.
“I’ve got to go to that seance!” Mae said firmly.
“You all really did hear every single word of that conversation,” Matt said ruefully.
A circle of nods answered him. He shook his head. “Hell—I guess I will start answering my cell phone,” he muttered.
“Well…?” Clint drawled. “When are you going to bite the bullet, give that girl a call and convince her that she is welcome here?”
“Soon. But not from here,” he said. He slid his sunglasses back down over his eyes, and strode to the door, taking his hat from a peg on the wall. He twisted his jaw; he didn’t believe in ghosts, spirits, haunts, or the goddamned Easter bunny, and he sure as hell didn’t believe in premonitions.
Still, he didn’t like this.
He shook his head, speaking with his back to the others.
“There’s an awful lot that’s bad in that place’s past,” he said.
He walked back into the sunshine of the day, letting the door slam behind him.
There was silence in his wake for several seconds.
“He’s going to let it happen, Mae, don’t worry, you’ll get to go to a real live seance,” Clint assured the woman still standing behind the bar, and still staring after Matt Stone.
“Yeah, well, it’s not the whole thing with the house that makes him so hostile,” Mae said quietly.
“He just never should have married that bitch from New York,” Carter agreed.
“Redhead, too,” David Jenner murmured.
“Well, living or dead, it’s always people that haunt the living!” Mae said sagely, offering a sad shake of her head. Then she brightened, sounding like a girl about to head for her first dance. “And you bet your butts, gentlemen! I’m going to get to see a real live ghost!”
“Mae, if you see a ghost, the point is, it’s not ‘live,’” Clint said dryly. “But what the hell? Things could get darned interesting around here.”
Thirty minutes later, Darcy was back in her hotel room, listening to the voice on her cell phone.
“You want me to do what?” she said incredulously to Adam. “Not apologize, right?”
Darcy actually pulled the cell phone away from her ear to stare at it, despite the fact that on an intellectual level, she knew she couldn’t see her employer’s face.
“Don’t apologize, just rethink things.” Adam, far away in London, was quiet for a minute. “Darcy, I have a vested interest in the house. I’ll explain when I get back into the country.” He sighed softly. “Darcy, there’s no one like you. I need you. Please don’t sound as if I’ve asked you to make peace with hostile aliens or some such thing.”
Darcy winced. She knew that there was something about Melody House that Adam hadn’t shared with her yet. Had to be. She was often certain herself that Adam, despite his own apparent wealth, was funded as well by another source—possibly governmental. They’d quietly gone in and out of a number of Federal buildings in previous cases. This was different. He really wanted in. For personal reasons, so it seemed. Reasons he wasn’t willing to share, as yet.
“Adam, if this was so important, you should have been here.”
“I know. But I had to be in London.”
She didn’t ask for an explanation, because he was a man who always kept business confidential, and even with her, information was shared on a need to know basis.
“Darcy, are you okay?”
“I’ve met a lot of skeptics,” she said, “I’ve just never had to actually work with anyone so openly hostile.”
“You can do it. I know you can,” Adam said.
“But,” she said quietly, “you don’t really want me to call this guy and apologize, do you?”
“I’d never ask you to do that.”
“So…?”
“Let’s let it lie for now. I’m willing to bet that you’ll hear from him.”
Darcy breathed out on a deep sigh. She hated the fact that she hadn’t handled the situation well at all. Her affection for Adam was very deep and real.
“All right. So what exactly do I do now?”
“Just sit tight. Is the hotel okay?”
Darcy looked around the room. “Sure,” she lied. As she did so, the hotel line began to ring. She stared at the phone distastefully. It was dirtier than a pay phone outside a heavily frequented gas station.
“I’ve got another call,” she told Adam.
“Any premonitions?” Adam said lightly. “I’m willing to bet that it’s Stone.”
“We’ll see. I’ll give you a call back.”
“Actually, you don’t need to,” he said, and hung up. Again, Darcy stared at her cell phone, shook her head, and forced herself to pick up the hotel line.
