Haunting Ellie (25 page)

She didn’t want to devote even five minutes to Matt, but if he had information that might help, she had to go. “I’m awfully busy, but I suppose I could stop by sometime.”

“This evening, then,” he stated. “Seven o’clock. Since you don’t have time for dinner, you can have a few drinks.”

Drinks? And pictures that might help Alex? She had to take a chance. “All right,” she said. “I can’t stay long, though.”

“Yes, Liz. You mentioned that before.”

He pushed up from the table and glanced quickly at his watch. “I’ve got a client to meet right now, but I’ll look forward to tonight.” He blew Elizabeth one of his infernal kisses and disappeared around the corner—fortunately, before Jon arrived.

“Interesting reading?” This time Jon’s voice startled her.

“It’s always fun reading old newspapers,” she answered, wondering if Jon had seen her with Matt. “Unfortunately,” she continued, “the information I was looking for is rather sparse.”

Setting his Stetson on the table and pulling out a chair, Jon sat down across from Elizabeth. His brow furrowed and he looked like a man with a lot on his mind.

“How’d your meeting go?” she asked.

‘Meeting was fine.”

His eyes leveled with hers. “What did Matt want?”

Was that jealousy she heard in his voice, or anger? “Nothing much. He was here looking up old land records.”

Jon laughed. “Is
that
what he told you?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Why? You don’t believe him?”

“I believe very little he says.”

“Do you believe me?”

“I told you I did,” but his gaze had turned away and he concentrated on the table and her notes rather than looking her straight in the eye. It didn’t seem like a very good sign of faith.

“You took a lot of notes,” he said. “Find anything worthwhile?”

“A few things.” She decided not to worry about Jon’s suspicions and thought about her notes instead. The one piece of information that captured her interest was the cartoon and its caption, and she wondered about Phoebe and her relationship with Luke. She rested her elbows on the table and looked across at Jon. “Did your grandfather tell you much about Phoebe Carruthers, other than what you told me before?”

“A little. Nothing favorable, though.”

“Do you think she was in love with Luke Winchester?”

The lopsided grin she was learning to love brightened Jon’s face and eyes. “That was a hundred years ago, Ellie. What does it matter now?”

“It’ll add a little more spice to the stories I’ll tell my guests”

“You’re incorrigible, you know.”

She laughed. “I just might surprise you with a story or two someday. I’ll even feed you cheesecake while you listen.”

“Why don’t you tell me a story or two over lunch?”

“Any particular story you have in mind?”

“You,” he said, reaching across the table to caress her fingers. “I want to know every little detail.”

Every little detail? She could think of hundreds of things to say, she only hoped her plans for tonight with Matt wouldn’t leak into their conversation.

Elizabeth forgot all about Alex while they ate lunch. They talked about frivolous things like football and baseball, favorite movies, and music. They talked about travel, and politics, and what they would do in the spring. Afterward, they stopped at an antique store and Elizabeth bought two Tiffany lamps, and nearly two dozen hand-crocheted doilies that would look good as new once she bleached and blocked them. She found a set of bentwood and cane chairs in excellent condition, and although they were probably made in the early 1900s instead of the nineteenth century, she knew they’d be perfect on either side of the mahogany tea table she’d already begun to refinish.

They laughed and held hands; they even stole kisses; and Elizabeth leaned her head against Jon’s shoulder as he drove the winding road home.

The sun had gone down by the time they arrived
in Sapphire. Together they unloaded Elizabeth’s purchases from the truck, and she sensed Alexander’s presence as she and Jon moved about the downstairs rooms. He didn’t appear, though, and he made no noise, but she felt him staring over her shoulder as they stood hand-in-hand in the doorway.

“Had enough of me for the day?” Jon asked, cupping her face in his hands.

She shook her head and kissed him, waiting till his eyes were closed so she could try to shoo Alex away.

But it didn’t work. Her friend might be invisible, but she knew he was hovering about, and she had the distinct feeling Alex was getting a little steamed over the kiss she and Jon were sharing.

“Why don’t you come over later? We can grill some steaks, play some slow music.” He kissed her ear, the curve of her neck, the hollow at the base of her throat, and she wanted to walk out the door with him right then and there. But she’d already accepted Matt’s invitation, and instead of a wonderful evening in Jon’s arms, she was going to spend too many minutes fending off—what was it Alex called Matt?—snail slime.

She wove her fingers through Jon’s hair and softly, tenderly, kissed his neck, moving her lips toward his ear. “I didn’t sleep well last night, Jon. Would you mind terribly if we got together tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s too far away. Tell you what. I’ll bring dinner here. After we eat, you can stretch out on the couch, and I’ll massage your shoulders.”

Oh, Lord! It sounded so good—but she couldn’t. Not tonight.

“It sounds lovely, but we’ve been together all day and—and I’m really tired.”

“I could tell funny stories. Make you laugh.” He tucked his chin into her neck and kissed her ear. “There are a whole lot of things I could do tonight to keep you awake.”

“I’m sure there are, but ...”

Jon backed away. “You’re playing hell with my self-confidence, Ellie.”

“I’ve had a wonderful day. I just want to be alone tonight. That’s all.”

He studied her eyes. Did he know her well enough to sense she wasn’t being truthful?

“Does this have anything to do with your visit with Matt today?”

“Of course not!”

He shook his head. “I don’t believe you. Tell me the truth.”

“If I tell you the truth, you’ll get mad. You’ll say you can’t trust me. You’ll say I’ve been stringing you along and that I’m involved with Matt, and—”

Jon grabbed her shoulders. “I
told
you I trusted you. Dammit, why can’t you trust me enough to give me an honest answer?”

His eyes burned into hers, and she was afraid of his anger. Afraid that they’d built up a relationship and this one evening with Matt would ruin everything. She was afraid she might lose him.

She couldn’t tell him everything. But she could at least tell him the truth about her plans for the night. “Matt has some photo albums I want to look at.”

“Hell, Ellie, if that’s all it is, I’ll go over there myself and get them.”

“He won’t let them out of his house. I already asked.”

“This is insane. I thought we were going to have a nice evening together, and now you tell me you’d rather spend time at
Matt’s, looking at some blasted photo albums.”

“There’s more to it than that.”

“What?”

“I can’t explain.”

His fingers tightened on her arms. “Don’t go, Ellie.”

“I have to.”

“Why? Is he holding something over you? Something to do with your brother? Your partnership?”

“It’s nothing like that.” She tried to twist away, but Jon pulled her even closer. “Let me go.
Please.”

“Give me one good reason.”

She pushed against him, and this time he released her. “I don’t need to give you a reason, Jon. I appreciate your concern, but this is
my
life, not yours.”

“I’m asking you one more time, Ellie.
Don’t go.”

“You’re not asking at all. You’re telling. And you know what, Jon? I’m really tired of you and Matt and every other man telling me what to do.”

She opened the door and let in the cold, but the chill had already spread through her body—especially her heart. “Go home.”

“I know you don’t want to listen, but he’s dangerous.”

“Please, Jon. Just leave.”

He sighed deeply, grabbed hold of the brim of
his Stetson, and pulled it low over his eyes. “I’ll be home if you need me.”

“I don’t need you,” she lied.

He looked at her one more time with imploring eyes, but Elizabeth turned away. She had to go. She
had
to.

For Alex.

She heard Jon’s bootsteps on the stairs and on the icy pavement.

And off in the distance, thunder rumbled through the darkened sky.

“He’s right, you know. You have no business going to that buzzard’s home.”

“Leave me alone. Please,” Elizabeth snapped back when Alex appeared just inches from her nose.

‘You’re a woman, and whether you like it or not, you need a man to take care of you.”

“In your day, maybe. Not today.”

“Things like that don’t ever change.” Alex paced the length of the foyer, and Elizabeth leaned against the door, watching him.

“He may be a Winchester,” she said softly, “but Matt’s not a murderer.”

Alex stopped suddenly and stared at her. “Do you know that for sure?”

“He’s egotistical, self-centered, and a bore, but he’s
not
a murderer. I doubt he’s even a thief. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date to look at photographs—in an effort to help you, I might add.” She brushed past Alex and headed up the stairs.

“Mind if I follow?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “What if I said no?”

Alex laughed. “I’d follow anyway.”

“You know what they say about out of sight, out of mind?”

“Yes, I’ve heard that saying a time or two.”

“Well, unfortunately, it doesn’t apply with you.” Elizabeth walked straight to her closet and searched for something to wear; it didn’t matter what. She was more than positive Matt wouldn’t approve of anything she put on. And she didn’t care, either.

“How about this?” she asked, turning around and holding a strapless red sheath dress up to her body for Alexander’s perusal.

“Hell and tarnation, Elizabeth! He’ll have that thing off of you in half a second flat.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I didn’t think you’d approve.” She returned it to its hanger, then motioned for Alex to turn around. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to wear anything sexy or dangerous. But I would appreciate it if you’d turn around while I get dressed, and stay visible so I know you’re not watching.”

“You’re going to deny me the one little thrill I have in this existence of mine?”

Elizabeth nodded and motioned again with her finger for Alex to turn around. She busied herself searching through her closet, and when she turned around again, Alex stood at the window, staring down at the town.

“It hasn’t changed much in a hundred years, has it?” she asked.

Alex shrugged. “Hardly ever see a horse on the street anymore. Not many people go into church on Sunday morning, either. I remember when that cafe across the road used to be the saloon owned
by Luke Winchester. And I remember when women used to dress up all pretty in frills.”

“Did Phoebe Carruthers dress up in frills?”

Alex snorted a laugh. “Of course not. Black. Nothing but black. The respected widow wouldn’t do anything wrong, unless she was behind closed doors.”

Elizabeth slid a red knit dress over her head and smoothed the clinging fabric over her curves. “Did she do anything with Luke Winchester behind closed doors?”

“Before, during and after he married my Amanda.”

“Tell me what you know about their relationship.”

“Can I turn around yet?”

Elizabeth walked toward the window. “How’s this?”

Alexander’s eyes roamed from the neck-covering collar, over the long sleeves, and down the slim fitting dress that stopped just below her calves. He nodded his approval and swooped to his favorite place on the mantel, stretching out across its expanse.