Trace of Evil, page 19
“I don’t understand either. Maybe I picked up a bug. I slept until ten this morning, something I never do.” I grinned. “I’m fine now.”
“You need to have the gas company check your apartment.”
“Okay. Monday I’ll call the gas company, and I’ll make sure to keep my windows open.” His stern countenance reminded me why I didn’t want to leave my windows open. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll call the gas company today.”
With a little persistence and a lot of muscle, he managed to get me out of my chair and onto his lap, still wrapped in my blanket where his arms and lips took very good care of me.
~ * ~
Sam made the call to the gas company when we got back to my apartment. Thirty minutes later, I was in front of my building, in his truck, while he brought a serious young man with a buzz cut through the apartment and the cellar to search for leaks. The guy insisted on inspecting the other apartments, which ticked off my favorite couple upstairs. He finished and told me he hadn’t found any leaks. I apologized, but he assured me he’d rather have an inspection without problems and make sure everything was safe.
Sam had been keeping an eye on me since the front door closed. When I leaned against the counter and yawned, he said, “Okay. Pack whatever you need. You’re staying at my place tonight.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. The gas guy checked the whole building. No leaks.”
My reasoning didn’t faze him. He nudged me into the bedroom. I gathered a few things together, but the sight of my warm, comfortable bed distracted me. What could it hurt if I lay down for a few minutes? I was so tired.
Sam caught me before I hit the mattress. One arm held me against him, and he used the other to scoop up what I’d packed. Then he dragged my complaining butt to his truck, ignoring my whining rant on the way out.
When I stopped yawning a few minutes later, he said, “Over our tantrum, are we?”
I gave my head a shake to clear the last remnants of the sleepy fog. “I don’t understand these bouts of exhaustion.” His look of disbelief hurt me. “I’m telling the truth. I can’t help it. I don’t understand what comes over me.”
“It’s okay. You’re not doing it on purpose. I’m concerned. The fatigue and indifference started last night with Serena and the book. I don’t like what’s happening.”
I opened my mouth to deny his conclusion, but he put his finger against my lips. “You didn’t see what I did. Once Serena touched the diary, the whole atmosphere changed. Whatever happened affected you both.” His fingers caressed my neck, and he gave me a quick kiss. “You’re the one I care about. When you’re not half asleep, there’s a terrifying distance about you. I’m sick with worry. You need to find a new apartment.”
I hurried to assure him. “Heather and I have been checking the papers. Kirsten came up with a couple of possibilities, but they were in Beverly, and I like living in Salem. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“One more night is one too many.”
“A tad melodramatic? A couple more weeks won’t kill me.”
A few minutes later, we arrived at his place. His apartment was in the back of an old house right on the harbor.
He held my shoulders. “Stay with me until you find a new place.”
Whoa. I liked him. A whole lot. In fact, I might even love him—but move in? Living together was serious business. I hadn’t forgotten how the same decision had ended with Tom, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that kind of commitment again.
I was glad Sam didn’t push me to respond. Instead, he kissed me. “We’ll talk about it later. Let’s get you settled in for tonight.”
We rounded the corner to his back door, and I came to a dead stop. A small patch of grass led to a rocky ledge overlooking blue-green waters. I lifted my face into the stiff breeze that blew my hair around and enjoyed the sound of waves crashing against the rocks. Entranced by the spectacle, I followed the course of each swell as it surged in to send white foam flying into the air. Even though the specks didn’t reach us, their briny scent did.
“This is gorgeous.”
He put his arms around me and squeezed. “You could enjoy it every day, if you lived here.”
I snuggled against him. “Mm, the perks keep adding up.”
We spent an incredible time at his apartment. He even rented a chick flick for me. To his credit, he never once complained. We popped popcorn in the microwave and toasted the salty result with wine. We made love on the couch and later in his room.. The next morning, he served me breakfast in bed.
“You should get chick flicks more often, Mr. Gregory.”
Serious for a minute, he gazed at me. “I don’t care about the flicks. And you’re the one chick I’m interested in.”
Sometime after noon, we walked down the street to his favorite lunch place. I listened to his stories about townies, most of them bust-a-gut funny. Later, we ambled along the waterfront where he pointed to his brother’s boat. “Right there. The white-and-green lobster boat. The Rachael S.”
There were at least fifty fishing vessels that color. “Which one?”
“Right there between the black sailboat and the blue-and-white cabin cruiser.”
Again, not helpful. “There are too many boats in this harbor, and they’re headed the wrong way to see the names.”
He tucked me in his arms and helped me pick out his brother’s vessel. When I discovered the right boat, I was rewarded with a kiss. If I’d gotten prizes like this in school, I’d have been an A student. I hated the day to end. We both had work the next day. I didn’t have the right clothes with me or my car. I needed to go home. He tried romantic blackmail to talk me out of it, but even after a smoking kiss, I was adamant.
He escorted me into my apartment and stayed to gauge my reactions. While he was there, I pulled together an outfit for the next day to hang in the living room. Until I found another place, I planned to steer clear of the bedroom. After about twenty minutes, when I hadn’t yawned once, he gave me a tantalizing kiss and left.
I made one last trip through the bedroom to retrieve the big square flashlight I kept beside the bed. I glanced at the nightstand and back again. What was different? The diary. I’d placed it there yesterday morning. Now the table was empty. My body shook, I rubbed the goosebumps on my skin, then peeked around the empty room.
I needed to track the diary down before it got dark. When I was unable to locate it in any of the rooms, unease stirred in my gut. One place left. I stared at the loft. It took all my courage and the help of the pendant to get me up those stairs. I hadn’t set foot in my office since the awful day I discovered Izzy was pushed.
The last time the diary took off, I found it on my desk, and that was where it sat tonight. The journal’s movements made me ill. I had trouble breathing and forced myself to look at it. Something was different. The book lay open to a page I’d never seen—the last one. Curious, I leaned in for a closer glimpse.
The words staring back at me twisted my insides. My shaking limbs undermined my visual perception. I closed my eyes. I must have read it wrong. I forced myself to focus and glanced one more time. No matter how much I blinked or rubbed at my face, the writing remained.
The last page of the diary contained a new passage written in fresh ink. The old inkstand and quill pen I’d purchased at the antique store sat next to the book as if the writer had just finished his latest entry. A sharp pain sliced through my insides. I tried to deny the terrifying reality, praying I was having a hallucination. I wanted to run down those stairs and forget I’d ever seen it. Not happening. I clutched my queasy stomach. I examined the page again.
Nothing had changed. The writing matched the previous script, written in the same hand. Two words whose significance cut to my soul.
She’s mine!
I have no idea how I got downstairs or what happened next. Hours later, I found myself in bed, crooning Sam’s name. I twisted and moaned as his hands caressed my body. His words fanned my desire. “Your beauty is breathtaking.” His touch made me moan with pleasure. “My Rebecca.”
What did he call me? Who? I rolled over but found an empty space. I leaned on my elbow, rubbed my eyes, and searched for him. “Sam?” No one was there. I was alone. Dregs of sexual tension still clung to me. Wow, the whispers and caresses seemed so real. I yawned.
Fleeting memories from earlier skipped through my brain. The diary. A fresh entry. Had I dreamt it? I held my breath on the edge of panic when I was disoriented by a wave of exhaustion. It’s not that important. I lay back in bed. A hand touched my forehead. A kiss claimed my lips. I smiled, closed my eyes, and fell back to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The next day on my way to work, I agonized over my unwarranted fatigue. When my alarm blared in the morning, I almost tossed the phone against the wall. If I weren’t terrified of my boss, I wouldn’t have gotten out of bed.
By the time I arrived at work, I was wide awake. The crisp air cleared away any lingering cobwebs. Sam was right. The exhaustion problems I had were in my apartment. It might be a good idea to stay with him until I found another place.
While I waited for my computer to boot, uncomfortable scenes from last night’s sleep crowded my mind. I remembered the name Rebecca. Then I awakened to a kiss. That had to be wrong. Didn’t matter. For the past few weeks, even my waking moments resembled hallucinations. I wondered if I needed to speak to an expert in paranormal affairs or a psychiatrist.
My life was no better at work. I found a message from Fischer. A managers’ meeting was scheduled at his office after lunch. Attendance mandatory. I hated these sessions. Most of the time he expounded on his many talents, bragged about his accomplishments, and dumped on his managers.
Today his glare zeroed in on me as he said we needed to review our emergency policies. Oh, hell. I was the goat. “Dani, what’s the first thing we do when there’s a fire?”
A telltale flush heated my face. “Call the fire department.” My insides quivered while he paused.
When he spoke, he gave me a superior smile. “Correct.” Next, he itemized an emergency checklist and finished with a direct scowl at me. “I will not tolerate mistakes.”
Although I hadn’t done anything wrong, his insinuation made me want to crawl beneath the table.
I was grateful the other managers were aware of his attitude toward me. Most of them came by afterward to lend their support and relate their own Fischer horror stories. Encouraged by my colleagues, I ignored Fischer’s jibes.
Chuck, who managed a large complex in Lynn, put his arm around my shoulders as we walked outside“Hey, we’re all human.” Another manager whispered in my ear, “Everyone knows Fischer’s a jerk.”
I was glad my peers stood by me. If I needed recommendations for a new job, I’d be able to count on them.
The car was parked down the street. The lot had been full when I’d arrived. My mind wrestled with the possibility of securing a job with another management company. Scratch that. I’d need a recommendation from my boss. Not likely to happen. Lost in thought I ignored my surroundings until I reached Minerva. I clicked the button to unlock the door, then reeled back at the sound of Tom’s voice.
“Hi, Dani.”
I swiveled my head around to find help. No one. We were alone. The smug jerk leaned against the fender with his legs crossed and arms folded on his chest, the nasty smile I hated pasted on his face.
“My, my, how low will you go?”
God, what was he talking about now? “Please get away from my car. I have to leave.”
He ignored me. “First the loser in Salem and now you cuddled up to a black guy.”
His racist remark must have been for my colleague, Chuck. How dare he? I clenched my teeth. “Don’t you talk about my friends, you prejudiced bastard. Leave them and me alone. If you don’t get off my fender, I’ll drive away with you on it.”
He laughed at my attempt to gain control. I waved my arms and yelled, “Stay away from me.”
When he headed toward me, I opened my mouth to scream. It worked.
He stopped, frowned, and squeezed an ultimatum between his teeth. “We’ll discuss this later.”
“Is everything all right here?”
“Eddie!” Oh, thank God.
He said no more and moved past me, right into Tom’s face. Although Tom’s cheeks flushed a deep red, he didn’t move. Not good. Tom towered over Eddie, but Eddie stood his ground.
“The lady asked you to leave, pal. I’d advise you to do it.”
“Lady?” Tom croaked a forced laugh. “That’s a good one. She’s been screwing around with all kinds of trash. You must be her latest. Or is it you and the black guy together?”
The action sped up then, moving too fast for me to anticipate or stop. When Eddie moved forward, and Tom’s head snapped back, I missed the arm and fist that caused the action.
Astonishment flitted across Tom’s face. He touched his mouth, and his fingers came back bloodied. With a roar, he threw himself at Eddie. After that, I couldn’t tell who was doing what. The sickening sound of fist against flesh held me pinned against my car. I covered my mouth, afraid I’d vomit.
The fight might have lasted five minutes or fifteen. Time ceased to mean anything. At some point I became aware we weren’t alone. I spun around to find a red-faced Fischer standing behind me. His gaze cut into mine, promising trouble. Damn! This would have to happen outside his office.
Sirens blared in the distance. Their imminent arrival caused Tom and Eddie to break apart. As Eddie wiped blood from his face, Tom took off, and Fischer told Eddie to leave. By the time the officer arrived, both men had disappeared.
Fischer growled at me, “Let me handle this.” He presented a benevolent façade to the policeman and, in a voice like an understanding parent, said, “A couple of boys fighting, but they got over it and left.”
Oh, God. I can’t let Tom get away with this. He doesn’t care about the restraining order. I’m not safe anywhere. I hated to buck my boss. I didn’t want to lose my job, but a quick glance at Fischer’s furious countenance, and the disgust in his eyes told me he was going to fire me anyway.
The policeman questioned me. “Have you got anything to add?” After a peek at Fischer’s red face, I spilled the whole story.
While the officer went to the car to call in his report, Fischer turned his glacial smile on me. “You’re finished. I’ll escort you to your office, and you can clean out your desk.”
“But—”
“Now!” he bellowed.
I shook with anger and grief when he ushered me into my office and supervised everything I touched as if I were a felon. A few residents in the vicinity stood by, foreheads wrinkled in obvious confusion. I looked away from them and glared at Fischer. In a last act of dominance, the rotten creep stood in the parking lot, legs planted apart and arms crossed until I drove away.
I clenched my fingers around the wheel, wishing it was Fischer’s neck. I’d been fired. After all his threats, he’d done it. Sacked me because of that no-good jerk. The punishment wasn’t fair. I’d done nothing wrong. He should be protecting me. What about Beach Street? Who’d take care of my tenants? At the next red light, I scrounged in my purse for my phone. I wanted to call someone and rant.
With the appearance of Tom, the fight, and the embarrassment of being fired, I’d forgotten to switch the phone back on. Two messages from Sam. I punched in his number.
“Hi, he said. I’ve been trying to call you.”
My voice faltered as I said, I got fired.
“What?” he said, his voice almost a yell.
“Tom showed up outside my manager’s office, and Eddie punched him. They got into a big fight. The police came, and Fischer fired me.”
“Did the police arrest Tom?” Sam asked.
I wished I could say yes. “No. They both left before the officer arrived.”
“You told the police you had a restraining order, didn’t you?”
I inhaled and blew out a long breath. “Yes. I can’t talk anymore.” I was too angry and upset. “I’m driving. I’ll call you when I get home.”
I disconnected and smacked the wheel. When I got home, he was there in the hall. I walked into his arms. “I can’t believe it.”
Sam held me. “It’s okay honey. You did the right thing. You’re going to be fine.”
Heather came around the corner. “Hi, Sam. Dani, I have to talk to you.” At the sight of my face, she gave Sam an ominous glare. “What’s wrong?”
“Fischer fired me.”
“That no-good…I’m sorry.”
The three of us trooped into my apartment where she steered me to the sofa. “That bastard! What happened?”
I told her about the fight and how everyone took off before the police arrived. “Fischer told me not to say anything to the officer, but I had to.”
“Of course you did,” she said.
I looked up at Sam. “He wouldn’t let me speak to my residents, and I forgot to take my plant.”
He joined me on the sofa for a hug. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
Heather cleared her throat. I sat back and waited for her to speak.
“I hate to spring this on you after the day you’ve had, but it’s important. I got a call today from a friend of Serena’s. The good news is Serena’s out of the coma and much better, but she insisted on giving her friend a message for you.” Heather paused and bit her lip. “Serena called it a warning.”
“For me?”
Her gaze slid from me toward the bedroom, and her finger zipped in circles worrying her ponytail. “Yup. Said the information was a matter of life and death.”
“That’s a little much.”
“Listen. Serena said the spirit is very, very strong.”
I wanted to brush off her claim with a laugh, but my breathing was too shallow.
