Whispers On The Wind, page 6
After promising to call if he remembered anything else, the kid left.
“Get out another teletype.” Coop’s voice rang with command. “There can’t be that many red Corvettes in this area. Add the part about the blue tank top.” He grabbed his hat from the wall. “I’m going out to Teddy’s and see if I can get anything else.”
An hour later, his euphoria faded. No one remembered seeing a woman matching her description on Sunday night. Ladies Night, and the place was packed with folks from every surrounding county, as well as truckers and interstate traffic. Just one more face in a sea of strangers. They did have security cameras on the parking lot but not the area where she parked. He secured the stuff from Sunday anyway, hoping they would produce something.
He stood beside his SUV and debated what to do next. Getting some much-needed sleep topped the list. He strolled around behind the tavern to the spot Arlis indicated he last saw her. Eyes on the ground, he cautiously scanned the area. A mixture of asphalt, gravel and concrete made up the parking lot which offered nil in the way of evidence. He widened the search, but after nearly an hour of looking, admitted there was nothing to be found.
Hands on his hips, he took one last look around, then headed back to his car. The sharp blare of his cell phone stopped him at the door.
“Delaney.”
“DPS may have found her car,” Jimmy’s voice vibrated with excitement.
“Where?”
“Oil road out past two-o-six, the one leading to the old abandoned oil well near the county line.”
“On my way. Tell Josh I want him on Day Dispatch for a while.” Night calls would go through central before routing to the deputy assigned after hours. Alice was the last person he wanted on those lines right now. “Either of ‘em don’t like it, they can see me.”
“Yes sir.”
Twenty minutes later, he stood talking with the highway patrolman who found the car. “It’s registered to a Lana Watkins from Dallas. Crime scene van on the way.”
“Anything inside?”
“No purse or anything personal. Not locked. No keys inside. There’s a lady’s jacket in the passenger seat. I looked around some, but didn’t find anything. Looks like she just parked here and left.”
By the time the crime scene guys hauled the car away, Coop had trouble keeping his eyes open. After a quick call to bring JD up to speed, he headed home.
Light thunder rumbled in the distance as he parked in the drive.
Jack ran from the corner of house and bounced around his feet, tail wagging so hard his whole body shook.
“Well, Big Fella,” he said as he rubbed the head thrust his way. “Glad to know I’m on your nice guy list.”
Man and dog made their way into the kitchen.
After a quick lap from his water bowl, Jack plopped down under the table, then flinched and whined when thunder rolled again.
The dog evidently didn’t care for storms.
Sam sat at the table, laptop open in front of her. “Hey.” Her tentative greeting was accompanied by a nervous shifting in her seat.
Their last meeting fresh on his mind, he tried to keep the mood light. “Please tell me there’s coffee.”
She nodded toward the pot on the counter. “No offense, but you look like death eating a cracker.”
He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, well, I feel worse.” He took a cautious sip of the caffeine rich drink and sighed. Unlike some people, coffee didn’t keep him awake. And given his current state of fatigue, he’d be lucky if he didn’t fall asleep standing up.
“Sit down before you fall,” she directed. “I’ll get your dinner.”
He considered arguing, but only a moment. He was so damn tired. Every movement took more effort than the previous one. As he passed her open laptop, he nearly dropped his cup.
The headline at the top of the page jumped out at him: Ghosts Are Real.
Sam moved about the kitchen, pulling the meal together, trying not to focus on the intimacy of the act. I’m a doctor. I’m concerned for his health. Nothing more.
The denial worked its way through her brain, but she was honest enough to admit she enjoyed it. Even if she didn’t trust him. Or herself around him. Or something.
“Where’s Eva?” Exhaustion made its way into his voice, dropping it an octave.
“Ladies Guild meeting.”
“Um.”
She turned to bring his plate to the table and stopped. His shoulders sagged and his head drooped forward, then jerked back up, the coffee in his cup sloshing out.
The man was falling asleep in the chair.
She put the plate in front of him. “You need to eat and go to bed. You’re dead on your feet.”
He jerked upright and shook his head. “Sorry. Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”
She went to the sink and wet the end of a towel. “At least wipe your hands first. No telling what’s on them.”
The dark beard stubble emphasized a weak smile. “Yes, Mother.” He dutifully wiped his face and hands, then proceeded to scarf down the roast beef and vegetables with renewed vigor.
She refilled their cups and sat down across from him.
A strange expression crossed his face as he nodded toward her laptop. “You believe in ghosts?”
The question sounded more curious than critical, but she stiffened anticipating ridicule. “I…believe there are things in this world we can’t explain.”
“Like ghosts?”
“You don’t believe they exist?”
He ducked his head and forked another bite into his mouth. “Never thought much about it.”
“I think this place has one.” Crap. He’ll think I’m nuts.
A coughing spell followed the remark, and she waited for him to regain his composure.
At last, he sat up straight, the light in his eyes electric. “You think we have a ghost? Here?”
Nervous now, she fidgeted in her seat. Why did she speak out loud? Paul mocked her mercilessly when she told him of her belief in ghosts. Would Coop do the same thing?
“Well, I haven’t actually seen one, it’s more of a feeling. Cold spots, the sense of not being alone, strange sounds. That sort of thing.”
“And it doesn’t frighten you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It doesn’t…feel evil.” She closed the top on her computer. “You must think I’m crazy.”
“Why would I think that?”
A long exhale preceded her reply. “Some folks think it’s a silly notion.” Paul said I was crazy to believe my grandmother sometimes visited me when I was scared or troubled.
He watched closely. Too closely. “What makes you so sure they exist?”
She met his steady gaze, trying to determine how to answer. What the hell. Cat’s already out of the bag. “Sometimes I hear her voice. My grandmother. And I smell gardenias where none exist. She loved gardenias. That’s how I know she’s close.” She held her breath and waited for him to tell her how ridiculous that sounded.
Instead, he nodded and sipped his coffee. “Your research tell you why ghosts hang around after they’re dead?”
She sensed an underlying intensity he tried to mask. This wasn’t a conversational question. He really wanted to know. Why?
“Well, there are different schools of thought. Personally, I think they either have some unfinished business or they’re keeping an eye on a loved one.”
His head came up and those mesmerizing grey orbs locked on hers. “So you think she’s keeping an eye on you?”
She squared her shoulders, daring him to make fun of her. “Yes. We were very close.”
He maintained eye contact, face giving away none of his thoughts. “Is the car hers? You said it was special.”
“Yes. She taught me to drive in it. My grandfather died when I was five, and she came to live with us. Mother worked odd hours at the hospital, so Granny looked after me.”
He offered no comment as he finished his meal, wiped his hands with the towel, and reached for his plate. “I hate to leave good company, but I’m beat. Thanks for doing this.”
“Leave it. I promised Eva I would take care of you. I mean, see to it you ate when you got home.” She stood and took the plate from his hand. “Go to bed, Dee. Now. Doctor’s orders.”
He stopped at the door to the dining room, glancing over his shoulder, features softened by tired grin.
Her stomach fluttered like it did the first time she rode the roller coaster at Six Flags, only more extreme. He was so damned good looking. And sexier than any man had a right to be.
“A friendly ghost, huh?”
His gravelly voice, deepened by fatigue, and a spark of amusement in those stormy eyes, sent the sensuality level off the charts.
It was impossible not to return his disarming smile. “Yep.”
His light chuckle as he turned and walked out sent shivers through her.
Holy mother of pearl.
Convinced she was the biggest fool to ever strap on a bra, she cleared the table. Thunder rolled outside as she put the kitchen to rights and prepped the coffee pot for the next day.
She wanted to watch the storm roll in from the porch off her bedroom. A quick glance at Jack said he wasn’t stressed, at least for the moment. For whatever reason, he sometimes became antsy during storms, and wouldn’t leave her side. Tonight, however, he didn’t appear upset. Yet.
She refilled her mug and headed upstairs, stopping dead in her tracks as Coop exited the bathroom across the hall, shirtless, his baggy sweatpants resting low on his hips. A rush of awareness so intense her breath caught, crashed through her. Of their own volition, her eyes dropped to the broad expanse of his chest, the dark mat of curls tapering down to a thin line that disappeared below his waistband. She fought for air, fingers curling tightly into her left palm, then snapped her eyes back to meet his intense gaze.
In a flash, a slender, delicate thread formed between them; a mutual understanding.
She wanted him.
He wanted her.
They may not be happy about it, but neither could they deny it. The only question being, who caved first?
The spell broke when Jack padded up to Coop, tail wagging, and pushed his nose into the hand hanging at his side.
“Get a grip,” she whispered as she fled to the relative safety of her room, leaving the door ajar for Jack in case he wanted company.
Wrapped in a light blanket and ensconced in a comfy rocker on the porch, she pushed the disturbing encounter to a darkened corner of her mind as she watched the late season tempest approach. The lightning flashes, the deep rumble of thunder, and the sound of rain on the roof were hypnotic. Memories of other storms, enjoyed from the safety of Granny’s lap, filled her with a quiet peace. “I miss you,” she whispered. “I miss your sage advice.” A hard swallow kept the tears at bay. “Jack’s a good listener, but he isn’t much for talking.”
Coffee forgotten, she pulled the blanket tighter around her.
It’s going to be all right, child.
Surrounded by fond memories and the faint smell of gardenias, sleep claimed her.
A scratching sound, like nails on wood, penetrated the veil of exhausted slumber. Coop concentrated to pinpoint the origin. There it was again, followed by a low whine. Jack?
He stumbled to the door and pulled it open. The dog padded into the room and made himself a spot on the foot of the bed.
Coop glanced across the hall and saw her door open. He looked at Jack, curled up on the bed, seemingly content. If something were wrong, he would indicate it. Wouldn’t he?
He gave a disgusted grunt, and stepped across the hall to peek inside Sam’s room. A soft night light showed the covers turned back on an empty bed. He looked back toward his new roommate who now occupied one whole side of the bed. Shaking his head in disgust, stepped into the room. “Doc?” When he got no answer, he turned to leave and saw the open French doors to the balcony. He crept forward, not wanting to startle her, but concerned because Jack came to his room, maybe because hers was empty. Who knew how a dog’s mind worked?
She sat wrapped in a quilt in one the rockers, sound asleep. The storm had passed and the waning moon bathed her face in a soft glow, her enticing mouth slightly open.
He needed to wake her so she could get in bed. Her bed. Not his. Unless she wanted to, of course. He shook his head, silently muttering a curse. “Doc,” he crooned, “come on, wake up. You’ll catch your death out here.”
A soft snore greeted his entreaty.
The sudden cool breeze reminded him he stood there wearing only his boxers. “Sam,” he touched her lightly on the shoulder. “Wake up.” When he got no response, he muttered another heartfelt curse, then slid one arm under her knees, the other behind her shoulders and pulled her toward him. Her head nestled against his chest as he stood. One hand poked out of the blanket to skim across his chest accompanied by a soft sigh.
Desire, hot and potent, seized him. He struggled for control as slender fingers worked their way through the dark whorls on his chest. Ebony tendrils tickled his chin and an enticing floral scent tested his control. Eyes closed, he tried not to think about her in his arms as a more powerful surge of need engulfed him. His groin tightened, anticipating what his mind conjured, and a frustrated groan rumbled in his throat.
Shit. Leaden feet moved forward. Arms trembling as he struggled for control, he eased her down.
Her hand slid down his chest, brushing a taunt nipple, and he gasped. You’re killing me, Doc.
She lay on her back, Coop’s arm trapped under her neck, face turned toward him, as she blew out a heavy sigh.
His store of self-discipline vanished in a heartbeat. He lowered his head and kissed her softly, a light brushing of the lips because he couldn’t bear not to.
A sound from the doorway made him jerk back.
Jack’s gaze appeared more curious than distressed. Thank God.
As gently as he could, he extricated his arm and stood on shaky legs before pulling the covers up to her chin.
No wonder she doesn’t trust me. Hell, I don’t trust me.
He stepped away from the bed, and Jack led the way back to his room.
Once inside, the dog reclaimed his spot, chocolate colored eyes spearing a hole in him as he left the door ajar.
“What the hell did you expect me to do you crazy-assed mutt?” He gestured with his hands as he stomped into the room. “I’m not made of stone. And what are you doing in here, anyway?”
Head cocked to one side, Jack’s ears twitched.
“I kissed her. I couldn’t help myself.” He plopped down on the bed, one arm over his eyes. “I couldn’t.”
Jack rested his massive head on Coop’s shoulder as though he understood the torment his new friend endured.
Sleep, when it finally came, provided little respite, and he woke with dog breath in his face, a dreamed-induced erection, and a headache.
But, at least he wasn’t crazy.
The matter-of-fact way Sam discussed hearing her grandmother speak, convinced him of it. However, the questions remained: Who the hell kept talking to him? And why?
Sam finished relaying yesterdays encounter to Miss Eva. “I told Doc I’d look in on Big Mama today since she refused to go to the hospital.”
“She’s a hoot for sure,” said Miss Eva, “but has a heart of gold. It’s such a shame she has no family around.”
Jack nosed the door open and entered, Coop right behind him.
It took a great deal of effort not to react, though she couldn’t stop the flood of heat to her cheeks as questions and images from her dreams last night swirled around in her head. How did I get to bed? Did I dream that kiss?
“Sam was just telling me what happened with Big Mama yesterday,” said Miss Eva.
His reply could best be described as a grunt as he reached for his cup.
Jack went to the back door, barked once, and looked at Coop, who opened the door for the dog to go outside.
“Sam is going over there today to check on her,” said Eva, “Can you draw her a map? You know I’m terrible with directions.”
“Sure.” He leaned against the counter and faced her. “It’s not too far from town. I’ll drive you.”
“Aren’t you working today?”
He nodded. “It won’t take long.”
“I’ll be fine driving myself. You have more important things to tend to.”
“I’d feel better if I took you.”
She stiffened. “I can take care of myself.”
“She lives down a dirt road. After the rain last night, it’s gonna be a mess.” A trace of envy in his voice, he added, “Take my Bronco. Your car is too nice to drive down a muddy road.”
“How will you get to work?”
“You can drop me off at the office.”
Suddenly nervous, she argued. “I can’t leave you without wheels.”
“I’ll take a squad car if I need to go anywhere.” His brow furrowed, and he looked at her. “Can you drive a standard shift?”
Affronted, she glared at him. “Of course.”
His smile sent the butterflies in her stomach on a rampage.
Jack reappeared at the back door and Coop let him in before he sat down across from Sam, the dog at his feet.
Irritated, her voice rose slightly. “He has never, ever taken to anyone the way he has to you.” She moved her coffee cup aside as Eva positioned a plate of sausage, eggs and biscuits in front of her. “He even slept with you.”
Amusement flickered in the eyes meeting hers. “Jealous?”
Cheeks so hot, she thought surely they would blister, she snapped, “In your dreams.”
The rich timbre of his laugh filled the room. “How did you know?”
“Coop,” admonished Eva, “stop teasing and eat your breakfast.”
He sipped his coffee, gaze fixed on Sam. “She’s so cute when she blushes.”
Unable to come up with a suitable retort, she stabbed her eggs.
“Doc asked Sam to take over his practice,” said Eva. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
Sam didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “How on earth did you know? I haven’t said anything to anyone.”
