Burning Love (Hell Yeah! Cajun Style), page 21
She explained to him about the vanity bench and what a distinct noise it made and that it had happened twice, once when she had standing right over it. Beau listened intently. “That’s interesting. Let me get some tape and we’ll put it under the legs and see if it moves again. Do you have some duct tape?”
“Yes, I do.” A heavenly aroma surprised her. “What smells so good?”
“I hope you don’t mind, I knew you were tired, so I had the meat market deliver some boudain, stuffed pork loin and dirty rice. All we have to do is keep it warm and make some tea and we’ll be set.” He opened the drawer she indicated and removed the tape.
“Mind? This is wonderful. I know its last minute, but do you mind if we call Savannah and ask if she’d join us for lunch – that is, if she doesn’t have any plans?” She longed to get to the bottom of all the supernatural happenings. Harley thought that if she could just understand what was going on she might not be so jumpy.
“I think that’s a great idea, Cher. If she’s free, Savannah would appreciate the invitation. Let’s go put the tape under the legs of the bench and we’ll see if it moves again. You wouldn’t have a video camera that we could set up to capture evidence, do you?”
He sounded experienced in this sort of thing. “Have you done this before? Ghost hunted, I mean?”
“Nah,” Beau walked behind her as she headed back upstairs. “I’ve watched some TV shows and heard Savannah discuss it. But, my evidence gathering is more in the realm of game cameras – I like to hunt.” In a few minutes they had the camera set up and the legs of the vanity bench situated on top of four pieces of tape so they could document if it moved on its own, again.
“This is sort of fun, isn’t it?” She knelt by him and watched his big hands at work. “Being with you is very pleasurable.” Out of the blue, she leaned over and kissed his cheek.
A velvety mouth that close to his was too tempting to resist. Meeting her lips, he took a tender bite from them. She crept closer and he indulged himself, tracing her mouth with his tongue and feasting on the honeyed sweetness of her kiss.
Her heart beat fast, but she managed to breathe. Beau licked her cheek and nibbled on her chin, then gently sucked on her lower lip, sweeping his tongue inside. Desire swirled through her body, as he mapped her mouth and coaxed her tongue to play with his. Damn, he needed to stop. “Later, my Dove, I’m going to love you within an inch of your life.” He drew Harley to her feet. Cupping the back of her neck, he massaged the tension away. “Tell me the truth. Does my touch bring you only pleasure or do you still have twinges of unease?” By the way she relaxed into his care; he thought he knew the answer.
“I only feel trust and great desire,” she answered truthfully.
“Damn, I just did myself in. Now, I’m gonna walk around the rest of a day with a hard-on.” Nada would probably never understand how much pleasure it gave a male for his woman to accept his protection.
Despite the tenderness, Harley laughed. “Anticipation will make it better.” Pulling from him, she raced downstairs and after he got over the shock at her playful behavior, he followed. “Do you know Savannah’s number?” He did one better; he found her in his contacts and placed the call.
A very pleasant, soft voice answered. “Hello, this is Savannah.”
“Hi, Savannah, this is Harley Montoya, I live at Willowbend. I’m friends,” she pinned Beau with a stare and a smile, “with Beau LeBlanc and he was telling me all about you.”
“Hey, how nice it is to speak with you. Laura told me a little about you. I’ve always been fascinated by Willowbend and its history.”
“Actually, that’s why I called. There have been a couple of incidents that I can’t explain. It’s last minute, I know. . . .” Harley hesitated, but Beau rubbed her back, encouraging her to continue. “Would you be interested in having lunch with us? Beau had some fantastic food delivered. It won’t be fancy; but we would love to have you.”
“What time?”
“Great! Eleven-thirty?”
“Sounds good.”
“We’ll see you then.”
“I hate to ask, but could I bring my dog? Two reasons – she won’t leave my side and she’s pretty sensitive to the supernatural.”
“Of course, bring the dog. I love animals.”
When they had rung off, Beau spoke up. “She’s bringing Patrick’s dog?” he spoke as he set the table without being asked – good man.
“Savannah’s bringing a dog, yes. She didn’t say anything about Patrick.” Harley thought a minute as she handed him the napkins and silverware. “I guess Patrick was the soldier fiancé she lost?”
“That’s right. I didn’t know him well, but Savannah thought he hung the moon. When he was home on leave, they were inseparable.”
“How sad,” Harley couldn’t help think how she would feel if something happened to Beau – or how Beau would feel if something happened to her. A cold chill ran up her back and she shivered.
“What’s wrong?”
He didn’t miss anything. “Nothing,” she smiled. “Someone just walked over my grave – that’s all.”
“Don’t say that,” Beau protested. “I don’t want to think about your grave. I plan on dying before you, and don’t you forget it.”
He tried to make a joke of it, but she could tell he was uneasy about everything. And to tell the truth, she was too. It wasn’t the ghosts of Willowbend that bothered her, it was not knowing when or if the madman would strike next. Forcing those thoughts from her mind, Harley watched the big man as he tried to fold a napkin properly. And he didn’t do a half-bad job. “Are we playing house, now?”
Harley’s teasing question earned her a heart-stopping grin. “No, that comes later – in bed.” She couldn’t wait.
At eleven-thirty on the nose, the doorbell rang and Harley ran to answer it. “Get the rolls out of the oven for me please.”
“Got ‘em Snookems.”
Snookems? Harley giggled like a schoolgirl. This ‘playing house’ stuff was fun. Who was she kidding? Being with Beau was incredible. When she opened the door, Harley was surprised. With a name like Savannah, Harley was expecting a Southern Belle – lots of blonde hair and big blue eyes, maybe with an umbrella and a mint julep. Instead, it was almost like looking in a mirror. Savannah might not have been Harley’s family, but the resemblance was uncanny. “Well, hello there.”
Savannah blinked and laughed. “Have I seen you somewhere, before?”
“Every time I look in the mirror.” Their eyes were different Harley observed – where hers were brown, Savannah’s were almost black, maybe navy blue. Her skin was not quite as dark, but their features were very similar. “I didn’t realize I had a sister.”
“Well, you do now. It’s wonderful to meet you.” Savannah shook Harley’s hand warmly.
Hearing footsteps behind her, Harley realized Beau had joined them. Turning to him, she put her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me that Savannah and I look alike.” They both turned to gaze at him, expectantly.
He looked at first one girl, then the other. Deep in concentration, he wrinkled up his brow and narrowed his eyes. Harley thought he looked so cute, that sexy long hair – all of those hunky muscles. She couldn’t believe he actually belonged to her. “I don’t see it,” he spoke just like a typical guy.
A canine whimper drew their attention. “What a beautiful dog.” A black lab stood just as close to Savannah’s leg as possible.
“Ciara wants to come in,” Savannah translated.
“Come in, Ciara,” Harley stepped back and let them enter. “I’d ask you to sit down and have a drink but Beau says he is starving to death, so let’s get to the good stuff first.” They sat down around the table and filled their plates with Cajun delicacies. “How about Ciara?” Harley started to get up and get another plate.
“No,” Savannah stopped her. “That’s not necessary. Patrick has her impeccably trained. She eats at a certain time of day out of a certain bowl.” As she talked about Ciara, the young woman placed a hand on the dog’s head that rested in her lap.
“She certainly seems devoted to you,” Beau commented. He had always loved dogs.
“Only recently. And I’m not sure what changed. She has been living with me since Patrick and I became engaged.” Savannah smiled sadly. “This may sound strange, but she has always been polite to me, but distant. It’s been three years . . .” she stopped and waited a moment as if to compose herself. “It’s been three years since I lost him, and she has allowed me to care for her, but this affectionate behavior is brand new. Ciara has never stopped looking for him. I’ve carried her to his grave, but she refuses to give up.”
Harley could read between the lines. In her own way, Savannah wasn’t giving up either. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she covered the young woman’s hand, offering sympathy. “I’m former Navy and I grieve for each soldier who never comes home.”
“Patrick was a Marine sniper.”
Harley continued her own brand of comfort, “I’m sure he was a wonderful man. There is no greater gift a soldier can give than to die for one’s country, but the loved ones left behind are required to sacrifice equally – they just don’t have the solace of death.”
Seeing the women were very near tears, Beau tried to lighten the mood. Harley’s talk of death made him uneasy. “Savannah, I understand you were on an episode of one of those ghost hunting television shows. Was it fun?”
A smile brightened her face. “It was fascinating. Most folks think these shoes are all staged, but the PROOF team makes a sincere effort to find and substantiate claims of supernatural activity.” While they talked, they ate, enjoying one another’s company. Harley drank a lot of tea; the boudain was good but very spicy. “What were you investigating? Anything local?” She thought about her own experiences and couldn’t wait to hear Savannah’s.
“Yes, it was local – the Broussard house on the north side of town. At one time it was a slave auction house. At present, it’s a private residence and the family had the whole gamut of experiences – from full body apparitions to disembodied voices to furniture being moved.” At the last revelation, Harley looked at Beau. Savannah picked up on the exchange. “What? Do you think something moved here at Willowbend?”
“The vanity bench in my bathroom all but walked across the room to me.” Harley’s eyes were big; the memory was still very fresh in her mind.
“Seriously?” Savannah was all ears. “Because I’ve seen a chair do that – one leg at a time. That was one thing that completely unnerved me. Ever since then I’ve been nervous of chairs.”
“No, it wasn’t quite that predatory, but it was bad enough. It was as if someone pushed it toward me.”
Beau got amused when Harley shivered and shuddered. “You should have seen her, Savannah. She came flying down the stairs as if the devil himself were after her.”
Giving him a warning look, she pinched his knee, playfully. “If I knew what they wanted, I might not be so scared. Seeing someone who looked like Fox Crocker didn’t help either.”
“Perhaps, I can be of assistance . . . .” Savannah began to speak when there was a loud crash from upstairs. “Is that our cue?”
Beau ran first, closely followed by the two women and the dog. What they found made Harley’s blood run cold. The vanity bench had not only moved, it had been been picked up and tossed against the shower wall.
“Okay, now this is what we’re going to do,” Savannah explained as she laid out the equipment. “We’re going to do a walk-through of the house, snap photos and ask questions. You carry the digital recorder and talk to them like you would anyone else. From my experience, ghosts are just people – dead people – but just people.
As Harley familiarized herself with the recorder, she wondered – “What does all of this mean? Could the ghosts want something from me? Do I offend them because I live in their home?”
Savannah stopped what she was doing to look at her. “Perhaps we’ll get an answer to your questions. Many times, I think they just crave attention. Not many people are aware that spirits inhabit the same world we do. I don’t pretend to understand it, but when someone like me comes along who is actively seeking them, they take advantage of the attention. Who knows? Maybe they are lonely.” As Harley watched her, she dashed a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry. The reason I do this is to find answers. I’ve heard voices, but never the one I long to hear. Many nights I have sat by his grave and pleaded for him to come to me – to say just one word in his beloved voice – but nothing.”
“Patrick, you mean?” They were sitting in Willowbend’s formal receiving room. Beau’s assistant, Indiana, had arrived and he had eyed Savannah with appreciation. She had been courteous, but oblivious – not even reacting to his interest at all.
“Yes, I wasn’t ready to let him go. He was my world. I loved him more than life.”
“Why do you think he doesn’t come through – doesn’t contact you?” Harley scooted closer and put a comforting arm around Savannah.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Maybe he’s being kind – he has to know that, until lately, if he were to have talked to me – I would have been very tempted to join him.” Savannah placed a protective hand over her abdomen. The gesture wasn’t lost on Harley, but she didn’t feel comfortable asking personal questions. Not yet, anyway.
“Nada!” Both women jumped. The voice had come from upstairs – and it hadn’t been Beau’s. It was a woman’s voice and the insistent, mournful tone made Harley’s blood run cold. To add to the eeriness, Ciara lifted her head and wailed a mournful howl.
“Who or what’s Nada?”
“That’s me – long story.”
“Well, I think you’re being paged. Let’s go.” Savannah stood and began purposely walking to the stairs, the lab right on her heels. She was already taking pictures. “I’ll go up first and we’ll start in your room. Directions?”
“First door on your right.” Harley swallowed hard. She could do this.
Savannah led her into the bedroom. “Okay, begin.” As her new friend moved slowly around the room taking photos, Harley talked. At first, she felt silly – but she pressed on. “Hello, my name is Harley Montoya. I’m also called Nada. Thank you for letting me live here with you. What’s your name?” She paused, just as Savannah had instructed. If you were going to ask questions, Savannah had explained, you had to give them a chance to answer. “Is there a little girl here who likes cookies?” At that, Savannah smiled at her. She even opened up the closet and took pictures inside of it. Harley walked toward the bathroom where the stool still lay on its side. “Are you angry because I am here? Do you have a message for me?”
The women moved from room to room, methodically taking pictures and asking questions. At one point, Beau stood at the door and watched them, a look of concern on his face. When they had finished to Savannah’s satisfaction, they returned to the kitchen to find that Beau had cleaned everything and put the food away. “Thank you, Baby.” Harley was touched at his thoughtfulness. She didn’t hesitate but went right up to him and kissed him on the cheek.
“Did you girls have any luck?” Beau certainly had. He had notified the county sheriff and put him on alert that there might be trouble in the area. Now, he was assured that a patrol would be made through the area every hour or so. Because what he had found at the side of the house, right under Harley’s bedroom window had made his blood run cold.
“We’re about to see,” Savannah sat down and pulled her laptop out of her bag. “Scoot over, Ciara,” she gently pushed the dog aside. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her. You’d think she loved me or something.”
“Maybe she does,” Beau observed. “She certainly acts like it to me.”
“I hope so, but I’m skeptical,” Savannah muttered. She clicked the memory card in place and started pulling up photos. Pushing the computer toward Beau, she instructed. “Look through these for anything weird.” Hauling out another laptop, she took the digital recorder from Harley and hooked it to the second computer via a USB cable. “Now, let’s see if we can hear anything.”
They sat quietly – Beau looking through photos – and all listening as Harley asked question after question. Finally, they had a response – and it was one that put Beau in high gear. The question Harley asked was, “Do you have a message from me? Is there something you want me to know?” A woman’s faraway, yet distinct voice answered. “My name is Lillian and you are in grave danger. If you stay here, you will die.”
Chapter Nine
“I don’t think that was a threat, Beau.” Harley insisted as she filled a suitcase. He hadn’t given her time to argue. As soon as he had helped Savannah pack up and got her safely ensconced in her vehicle, he had come back and informed her they were moving to his houseboat.
“I don’t care if it was a threat or a warning; you’re not staying another night in this house until we know for sure what’s going on.” He hadn’t told her about what he found outside – and he wasn’t going to until he knew more. All he could think about was getting her somewhere safe.
“Do you think she could have been referring to Crocker? How would she know? Is information like that just floating around in the netherworld?”
“Sugar, I don’t know, but I’m damn sure not taking a chance.” As soon as she finished zipping, he grabbed it up and waited for her to go ahead of him. “We’ll go to the houseboat and head out into the Atchafalaya. There are places to anchor there that few white men have ever seen.” The swamp was his turf; he knew it like the back of his hand.
“Wait, I’ve got to get my cell phones.” She had been in such a hurry that she almost forgot them. Hurrying to the kitchen, she retrieved them. Checking the red Socorro phone, she was relieved that there were no messages. God, she couldn’t believe how careless she had been.
“I’ve locked everything up, let’s go.”
Harley didn’t really understand Beau’s urgency, but when she touched his arm as he held the door for her – she knew. A vision of him looking down at the tale-tell sign of a trespasser jarred her equilibrium. “He’s been here hasn’t he?” Stopping, she looked up into Beau’s worried face. “That’s why we’re leaving – it wasn’t just the ghost was it?”
