Gull Harbor (4 page)

Slamming the door to his office, he dropped into his desk chair with a frustrated sigh. His guitar sat in the corner, and he pulled it onto his knee. He shouldn’t have played those old songs the other night, he thought as he mindlessly plucked at the strings. But seeing her sitting there in the audience had brought back the memory of the first time she’d watched him sing.

She had found the flyer in a stack of his study materials and pointed to the line that read
Entertainment by Max Baron
. “You’re playing at the Half Penny? Do you mind if I come see you?” she said, her green cat’s eyes sparkling with excitement.

He shrugged. “It’s a bit of a dive. But come if you want.” There was no harm in having a hot girl in the audience. And the more people he brought in, the more likely he was to get booked again. “In fact, if you come, bring a friend or two. I may be able to get another gig if I show them I can draw in customers.”

She’d shown up with half her dormitory in tow. The group had more than doubled the regular Thursday night crowd, and Max had been given a coveted Friday night slot. From that point on, Claire had never missed even one of his shows, but that was the night he fell in love with her.

Max stood up abruptly and placed his guitar back in the corner. This wasn’t doing him any good. It was a little early to exercise—he hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet—but he needed to run. He rooted around his office for a pair of running shorts and shoes. Cramming on a ball cap, he let himself out the back door of the tavern and set out to sweat Claire out of his system.

****

She was dumping a bucket of soapy water over the porch rail when Dan pulled up. Wiping her damp hands on her cut-off jeans, she waved at him. She knew he was checking up on her, but she was grateful for the company. Her day had not improved much since her encounter with Max that morning.

“Cleaning?” he asked as he picked his way through the brambles of the front yard.

She nodded. “Maria redecorated the bathroom.” She’d come home from a walk by the lake to find all her toiletries emptied onto the bathroom floor.

“I thought you were making progress.”

“I thought so too, but I guess not,” she said with a shrug. “Clearly she doesn’t want me here. I don’t think she understands that I just want to help her.” She watched his expression grow dark and added, “And no, I’m not leaving the house.”

“How about just for a few hours? We could go to Max’s, he’s playing tonight.”

She scowled before she could stop herself. “No, thanks.”

“You didn’t like his music? Most of the women around here can’t get enough…” Understanding suddenly dawned across his face. “Wait. You’re not
the
Claire, are you?”

“He told you about us?” She sank to the porch step in defeat.

Dan settled himself beside her. “He just said he used to date a girl named Claire. That’s all. But the way you two are acting, I’m guessing it was a bad breakup.”

“There was no breakup. Max graduated, and the next day he disappeared with no forwarding address. He left a note that said I’m sorry. I got a note, after everything we went through together!” She choked back a sob.

“I thought we were soul mates. He told me he loved me. He told me he’d stick by me if I defied my father. He was going to work nearby while I finished school, and then we were going to start our life together. Instead, he strung me along for two years and cut me loose the moment he had the diploma in his hand.”

Dropping her head into her wrinkled palms, she drew in a shuddering breath. She hadn’t meant to say so much, but the words had spilled out after the stress of the day.

Dan rubbed her back gently as the bitterness churned in her stomach. Finally she straightened herself up and mumbled, “Sorry. I know he’s your friend.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, taking her hand. “I’m just surprised. That doesn’t sound like the Max I know.”

“Five years ago, I would have agreed with you. But it happened.” She stared into the woods defiantly.

“I believe you. And I still think you need that dinner out. What if I cook out some steaks at my house? Just as friends,” he added quickly. “I think your love life is complicated enough at the moment.”

“I don’t have a love life. Max and I can barely stand to be in the same room as each other.”

He squeezed her hand and released it. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“No. Please don’t tell him I told you about our past. I really don’t want this getting around town.” She pushed herself up wearily.

Dan stood up as well and pulled her into a bear hug. “I won’t say a word, I promise. And I’ll pick you up at 6:00. You deserve a relaxing night.”

Chapter 5

Her food was all over the floor. The refrigerator door stood open, the shelves bare. The only thing spared was the butter, safe in its little compartment. Everything else oozed together on the kitchen linoleum in an appalling mess.

She sank to her knees, the hem of her sundress falling into the bloody mixture of tomato sauce and milk. “Why are you doing this to me?” she moaned. Tears blurred her vision as she surveyed the damage.

She had to get out of this house before she turned destructive as well. Gripping the counter’s edge, she hauled herself up to standing. She skirted the giant puddle, using her foot to kick the refrigerator shut before yanking open the back door and stumbling into the yard.

The path to the lake beckoned to her right, and she marched toward it without glancing back at the house. Half-buried rocks and twisted roots sprouted from the packed dirt along the trail, and she tripped twice in her wedge heels before she slowed her pace. With her luck, she’d fall and break her neck. At least then someone else would have to clean the kitchen.

The trail led her along the perimeter of the kettle pond, opening to a sandy beach with a playground area tucked into a clearing in the woods. She wandered over and lowered herself into the rubber seat of a swing with a heavy sigh.

In the past week, she’d lost all of her hair and skin products, and now all of her perishable food. Her last grocery bill had been enormous, and now half of it was gone. She couldn’t afford this kind of paranormal fury.

Her head snapped up at the sound of approaching footsteps. A lone runner emerged from the trail leading to the beach from the opposite direction.

Max. Her heart knew it a second before her eyes confirmed it. He slowed to a stop and turned toward the playground before he noticed her. “Oh,” he said, the surprise evident in his voice. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she replied. She watched the rivulets of sweat trickle down his bare chest as she waited for the inevitable confrontation.

He dragged an arm across his forehead and planted his hands on his hips. Silence stretched out between them, broken only by the sporadic drilling of a nearby woodpecker.

“I’ll go,” she said simply. She’d had enough for one day.

“No. You were here first. I’m just going to get in a quick set of pull-ups if that’s okay.”

She shrugged, pushing the swing with her toe. “Knock yourself out.”

Grabbing the highest metal bar in a set of three, he bent his long legs at the knee and dangled for a moment. Then he pulled his body weight up, his muscles bunching and rippling with the effort.

Her own body began its treacherous reaction, sending heat between her thighs as she admired his strength. She tightened her hands around the swing’s chains and dug her nails into her palms. He was counting reps under his breath, and she counted along with him in her head in an attempt to distract herself.

“What?” he asked, pausing.

She’d been staring at him. Oh, God. Tearing her gaze away, she struggled to come up with something. “That’s…impressive,” she managed, gesturing toward him with her chin. Not great, but better than “Sorry, I was busy fantasizing about you.”

He laughed dismissively. “If you think this is impressive, you need to get out more.”

“I wish I could. But I’m banned from the only place anyone goes around here.” The tears she’d been fighting for the last hour broke through, and she jumped off the swing and headed back toward the path.

Max was behind her in an instant. “Hey. I didn’t ban you from my place. You’re the one that said you wouldn’t come to the tavern.”

She nodded, swiping at her eyes, but it was too late. He could see that she was crying.

“Really, Claire, don’t be upset. You can come to Max’s anytime.”

She nodded. “Thanks. But I’m just reacting to something that happened earlier.”

“What happened?” The concern in his voice made her heart contract painfully. He stepped in front of her, forcing her to either stop or run into him.

“Just something with the house. The ghost emptied the contents of my fridge onto my kitchen floor.” She took a step forward. “I need to get home and clean it up.”

“I’ll walk you back,” he said, moving aside.

“That’s not necessary.”

He matched her stride. “I know. But I’m going to anyway. I’ll finish my run up Mill Pond Road to the shore.”

She had no idea what to say to him, so she concentrated on not tripping as they followed the path away from the lake.

“Claire, do you think you’re in danger?”

Her first instinct was to insist that she wasn’t. But she wasn’t so sure anymore. “Well, this is definitely an unusual situation. It’s possible I’m just dealing with a destructive poltergeist, but I don’t think that’s it. Something bad happened in that house—I feel it. And for whatever reason, the spirit involved perceives me as a threat. Either she doesn’t understand that I want to help her, or she doesn’t care.”

“So you know it’s female.”

“Yes, I was able to get the name Maria. There have been other words, but I can’t get them. She…cries a lot.”

The trail emptied them into the wooded backyard of the house. She crossed to the kitchen door, Max at her side. He peered through the window and cursed under his breath.

“I’ll help you clean up,” he said.

“No, I don’t think I should let anyone else in. Maria is already suspicious enough of me. You should finish your run. But…thanks.”

She gave him a wan smile as she cracked the door and slipped inside.

****

The creak of her bedroom door pulled her out of a restless sleep. She always left the door slightly ajar, but now it opened slowly on its old hinges. Claire froze, holding her breath. An indistinct shadow darted through the room as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Her iPod began blaring in its dock, and she jumped up, smacking her head on the top of the wrought iron headboard. “Ow!” she cried, fumbling for the lamp switch. Light flooded the room, along with Stevie Nicks’ “Edge of Seventeen.”

She turned off the iPod and was rewarded with two seconds of silence before the ancient television downstairs crackled to life. Great. She padded down the staircase, carefully avoiding the leaves that decorated the steps.

The television glowed in the dim living room, and she shut it off and pulled the plug. “I’m not trying to hurt you!” she called out in frustration. “I want to help!”

A movement near the front door caught her eye, and she spun around. Leaves rustled on the stairs as the wood moaned and creaked, and then a crash from above made her scream.

She dashed back up to her room to find the picture hanging over her bed shattered. Her iPod dock had been hurled at the framed print; now it lay broken on her sheets, surrounded by sparkling shards of glass. She slumped against the wall as she caught her breath.

Biting back tears, she yanked a pillow off the rocking chair and trudged back to the living room. The couch would have to serve as her bed for the rest of the night. She huddled under a blanket and stared at the ceiling, a melancholy ache seeping into her bones.

What on earth was going on here? This kind of animosity from a spirit was unprecedented—for her, anyway. When she had helped Max’s father, the warmth and gratitude she’d felt had been overwhelming. Pulling the blanket up to her chin, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to recapture the memory of that amazing day.

She had hurried across campus under a brilliant October sky, bursting with her good news. It was risky going to Max’s dorm—she knew that. There was a voice that sometimes came when she was near him, and it was harder to block when they were alone.

But a ninety-seven on the first exam! She’d managed the highest grade in a class that had baffled her in the beginning of September. If that didn’t call for a celebration, she didn’t know what did.

She snuck through the front entrance of the dorm as another student left and bounded up the stairs. Max yelled, “It’s open” when she tapped on his door.

“Highest grade in the class!” she exclaimed as she held out her exam, the remarkable number written at the top in bright-red pen. She threw her arms around his neck and he caught her at the waist.

“Congratulations, Claire,” he murmured in her ear. “I knew you could do it.”

She was suddenly aware that their first embrace was lasting longer than a casual hug. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for Max to release her. But he didn’t; instead, his hands slid up her back to pull their bodies closer. She pressed her hips against his, giving in to the need that had been building inside her for weeks. Her blood turned hot and thick, like molten lava that buried everything in its path.

He pulled his head away, looking into her eyes for assurance before lowering his mouth over hers. She kissed him hungrily, her muscles trembling as she clung to him.
I love this man
.

I love him too,
a voice said. A voice in her head that did not belong to her. She gasped under Max’s roving lips. She had let down her defenses, and now it was too late.

I know you can hear me,
the voice insisted. Her eyes flew open and she caught sight of the hazy figure standing behind Max.
Help me.
The man reached out his arms imploringly.

She broke the kiss, pushing Max away. “No!” she screamed as she stumbled toward the door. It was still slightly ajar, and she raced into the hallway and down the stairs.