High Intensity (12 page)
The cat didn't answer. He was busily wiping the crumbs off of his face and licking clean the evidence. Like most cats, he was going to try to disavow any knowledge of the deed once all trace of it was gone. Strange how cats thought they could do this even when they were caught red… pawed.
Stranger still was the fact that it usually worked.
It was difficult to refute a kitty who looked smugly up at you as if to say, "Prove it." Tyber always marveled at the feline sense of selective relativity. For a cat, the past was just so much fantasy—especially if it involved some wrong doing.
Mark's head poked around Tyber. "A snacker!" There was a wealth of disgust in the observation.
"Sorry, pal." Tyber nodded at him over his shoulder. "The double reading combined with the refrigerator was a dead giveaway—you'll forgive me the pun. Better luck next time."
"Geesh." Mark stormed back into the library.
Zanita shook her finger at the two culprits, but her eyes were dancing with mirth.
When they got back to the library, Hubble did not even glance up from his book. "False alarm, by chance?"
"Blooey and Hambone out for a
snack."
"Hmf." Hubble went on with his reading, a treatise on the life cycle of the gnat.
Zanita thought it was particularly appropriate reading material for this man.
"He's not even polite enough to pretend he's interested in what we're doing," she sputtered to Tyber in an aside.
Tyber glanced over at the psi-cog. "Mmmm."
"It's as if a little cloud hangs over his head, waiting to rain on everyone he comes in contact with. What is it with him, anyway?"
"I don't know, baby. Maybe he's just one of those straight-by-the-book academic types." He shuddered theatrically.
"Really, Tyber. You're much too serious, you know that?" His only response was a sexy wink.
An entire shelf of cooking videos crashed to the floor.
Zanita jumped. "My god, what caused that?"
Tyber began walking over to the fallen videos to investigate, but Calendula yelled out a warning. "Watch out, Tyber! Behind you!" Tyber turned and veered just in time to see a kitchen spatula whiz by his head.
"Poltergeist activity! Mark, are you recording?"
"Yes! The readings are off the scale!"
"I don't believe this!" Zanita watched dumbfounded as several objects hurtled through the air. Tyber yanked her out of the path of a flying nutmeg grater.
"Did you notice—it's all kitchen equipment?" As if to verify her words, a whisk whipped by her nose.
"Yes, I did notice that." Tyber put his hand on top of her head, protectively holding it down as a shelf of books crashed to the floor. "Maybe this ghost of yours is a disgruntled chef who was unjustly stripped of his Michelin stars."
"That's not funny."
"My cookbooks!" Todd moaned.
He started to pick them up but thought better of it when Mark yelled out, "Forget it, Todd! Wait until it stops—you might get hurt!"
Through it all, Hubble sat in the corner cool as a cucumber, reading his paperback.
Zanita raised her head. "Why is he just sitting there?"
Tyber murmured, "Better question might be: why aren't any of the flying gadgets going near him?" He ducked on top of her to avoid a lemon zester.
"Because he doesn't believe in it?" Zanita mumbled facetiously against Tyber's shoulder. "I don't believe in spooks! I don't! I don't!"
Tyber grinned against her curls. "Okay, inverted cowardly lion; you're safe." He kissed the top of her head. "You know, baby, it's occurring to me that all of these gadgets have exactly the same trajectory."
"Tyber, how can you think of physics now? We are experiencing a genuine paranormal event!"
"Well, I suppose I could think of sex."
"Tyber!"
"Haven't you seen the statistics on men's thought patterns? Every three minutes we think of physics or—What is that scent?"
"Um, avatar of roses."
"No, that other scent. It smells like burnt eggs."
Sure enough, the sulfurous stench of burning eggs filled the library.
"Argh!" Zanita buried her nose in Tyber's chest, trying to inhale his delicious, clean scent instead of the noxious fumes.
"This happens sometimes on cases I've been on, Zanita." Calendula actually seemed joyous amid the otherworldly odor. "It's a type of haunting which stimulates the olfactory senses. Sometimes it's a perfume that the deceased wore; a spirit will use that to let the target know it is present. It's called a sign. I've also experienced the scent of pipe tobacco at hauntings." She took a big whiff of the malodorous aroma. "This is the first time I've encountered a negative scent." She paused. "I'm afraid we have an angry spirit here, Todd."
"What makes her think that?" Tyber groused as a cherry pitter bounced off his shoulder.
As suddenly as it started, it stopped.
Slowly, everyone stood up, warily looking around for stray basters zinging through the air. Hippolito, of course, remained in the same position: slack-jawed, on his back with all four paws in the air. Not even poltergeist activity was going to get this dude to move.
"Wow!" was all Todd said. Tyber wasn't sure if he was referring to the sacked-out cat or the ghost.
"Have you experienced anything like that before, Todd?" Zanita brushed off her dress.
"No. Nothing like that." He thought a minute. "Maybe the presence of the equipment has angered it?"
"Possibly." Calendula bent over the instruments, examining the results.
Zanita walked over to Hubble. "Why weren't you affected, Hubble? Do the psi-cogs have some immunity we are not aware of?"
Hubble put down his book. "Yes, Mrs. Evans, as a matter of fact, we do. You see, we don't believe in such nonsense and therefore we do not allow ourselves to be affected by it."
"That is ridiculous. You had to see what was happening. How can you dismiss this?"
"Oh, I don't dismiss it. On the contrary. I just don't believe that the cause of it was 'otherworldly.'"
Mark snorted. "Yeah. Right."
Tyber cleared his throat. "Hubble may be right."
Everyone stared at him doubtfully.
"I noticed that the trajectories of the objects were all identical."
"Was does that mean in plain English, Doc?" Todd asked.
"It means that they all came from the same source."
Hubble stood. Walking around his chair, he exclaimed merrily, "Now we are getting somewhere!"
"Do these poltergeist activities usually involve a single end source?" Tyber inquired.
"Not usually," Calendula responded. "Usually the activity seems to initiate from several different places at once. But that's not a hard and fast rule."
"Where do you think the objects launched from?" Zanita asked. Something wasn't right here. She could feel it.
Tyber's beautiful blue eyes gazed upward, following the path of the circular staircase.
"What's up there?" she asked Todd.
"Just a narrow platform and the upper level of the bookshelf."
"And an octagonal window…" Tyber began climbing the staircase, taking two steps at once.
"Be careful!" Zanita watched him anxiously. Spiral stairs always made her dizzy.
Tyber reached the landing and carefully examined the small alcove. There was nothing out of the ordinary that initially met the eye.
First, he went to the window and looked outside. It was too dark to see much of anything, but he did note that there was a foot-wide ledge possibly within jumping distance of the window—if one could squeeze through the narrow opening. Right above the ledge was another, wider window. "Where does that window over the ledge lead to?" he called down to Todd.
The chef had to think a minute. "That's a closed wing of the house. I doubt anyone could make such a jump safely. The ledge isn't stable."
Tyber wasn't so sure about that but shrewdly responded, "You're probably right."
"I was planning on making repairs to that section next spring. That is, if my business increased." Todd sighed. "I guess I won't have to worry about that if these weird things keep happening. Who in their right mind would want to stay here with all this going on? I can't even serve a decent squash casserole."
Upstairs, Tyber shuddered. Squash casserole! He hoped Blooey wasn't within hearing distance. His cook had an unnatural affinity for butternut squash that threatened his sanity.
"Don't worry, Todd, we'll get to the bottom of it," Mark consoled his friend.
Inside the small alcove, Tyber knelt down in front of the bookshelves and ran his hand along the entire back edge. He had noticed that the wood wainscoting was slightly uneven where the platform bisected the bookcase.
There it is. A. hidden catch to a secret cubby or passage. The entire top of the bookcase must swing forward!
He could hear the guests talking below. At least one of them was in on this, he was positive. He opened the hatch slightly and peered inside. It was dark, but he could definitely see a passageway.
He decided to wait to investigate during the day when the library was empty. Carefully he latched the door, making sure no one saw him.
Zanita looked up at him as he made his way down. "Find anything?"
Everyone waited for his answer with fervent anticipation.
He shrugged. "Nothing. I must have been wrong."
Zanita looked at him knowingly. For one thing, the Doc would never admit so easily to being wrong.
For another, he was never wrong.
It was one of those genius drawback things that she had to live with. Her rogue of a husband had found something. "We'll talk later," she whispered to him so no one else could hear.
"Damn," he murmured softly. Zanita raised her eyebrow.
Tyber's forehead furrowed. The woman was really on to him! This is not good. He was going to have to come up with a much better plan of attack if he hoped to win their challenge. And win it he would.
His eyes narrowed, and the slightest of smiles graced his outlaw lips.
It was time to weigh anchor.
An arm came around her waist and pulled her under the bed.
Zanita started to scream, let out one abortive bleat, then hesitated. Was she dreaming? She blinked. No, this wasn't a dream.
Her hand balled into a fist and punched the wall of muscle leaning over her. A slight "oomph" was the only response from her sneaky husband.
"I-am-going-to-kill-you." She uttered her words with all the vehemence she could muster.
"Did I surprise you?" he whispered in her ear, letting his lips graze the sensitive folds.
As soon as they had returned to their room, she had pulled all the shades down, blocking out the dawn light. Then she had swept off her clothes and flopped onto the mattress. She had been lying in the high tester bed, drifting off to sleep, while Tyber washed up in the bathroom.
"You scared the bejesus out of me! What is the matter with you? I can't believe you did this!" She pushed ineffectually at the solid naked chest. It was too dark under the bed to see anything but his outline.
"Good." His butter-soft lips skimmed over her in a raider's kiss.
She gasped as his intent became clear. "You— you can't be serious, Tyber!"
A playful tongue caressed the corners of her mouth. "Mmm-hmm."
"Under a bed?" She sucked in her breath as she felt the palm of his hand slide over her breast. The peak hardened instantly. And so did her captain.
"Yes, under a bed…" He kissed her deeply, letting his tongue insinuate itself between her shocked, parted lips. Zanita made one of those little sounds of pleasure, the kind that always drove him wild.
"Why?" she asked raggedly while his mouth coasted in a lively pattern down her exposed throat. He blew softly on the moistened skin, making her shiver.
"For one thing, it allows me to explain the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle to you." His voice had a low, sensual rumble to it. She recognized that growl. Tyber didn't just have bedroom eyes. He had bedroom voice.
He also had a "thing" about teaching her physics by using very unorthodox methods. "Oh noooo."
"Oh yessss." He caught her lower lip between his teeth and sharply tugged on it.
Zanita smiled to herself. How did the man manage to irk, entice, and entertain all at the same time? She was positively convinced that in a past life the Doc roved the bounding main. What was she saying, in the past? All the man needed at this very moment was a cutlass to make the picture complete!
She moved against him. "Tyber, I don't know how you can draw parallels between—"
"That's it, baby, just like that…"
"—making love and… oh, god, what are you doing?"
"Demonstrating. Heisenberg said that it's impossible to know both the position and momentum of—"