Steele (14 page)

“Mad money,” her grandmother told her quietly over lunch when she’d been just eighteen. “You might find yourself in a sticky situation and need to get away. This will be your saving grace.”

And it had been too. All four million dollars of it. The only little glitch she’d had was she couldn’t take it all without someone approving. But lucky for her, her grandmother was the one the bank had called. It was the last time she’d spoken to her.

“Is this man—the one I’ve read about—is he your choice?” She told her no, never. “Didn’t think so. You do know that you’ll not be able to contact me. Or anyone else until this is over. If it’s ever over.”

“I figured as much.” She’d read as much as she could on how people who wanted to run and hide got caught. “I’m sorry.”

“Pshaw. You just keep ahead of them one or two steps and I’ll see what I can do for you here.” Addie told her she loved her. “And I you too, child. So much. I’ll miss you so much.”

She’d been twenty-one when she left. On her birthday, as a matter of fact. And now here it was her birthday again, five years later. Looking at the bag again, she wondered how much of it she’d have if she went to her parents right now and told them how things were going to be.

“Nothing. And they’d still make me marry that man.” Joel Buckley was not going to be anything to her, ever. Addie laid her head down on the floor and tried to think of something else, and her mind drifted to her dream.

The man that had spoken to her…not the one who had killed her. Addie ran her hand over her chest and could swear she could still feel the blood there. That other guy had ripped her heart out, and there had been nothing to stop him.

“I don’t blame the nice guy.” She didn’t either. Addie had seen the fear in his eyes, felt it almost when the other man had appeared. But it was this house that terrified her the most. It was in her dream with them this time.

She’d been dreaming about the man for several months now. Addie could never remember his face, though she tried hard enough to do it. All she could remember about him was his voice and how sad and lonely it sounded. He always told her he had no idea who she was, but she’d never told him she knew who he was.

Never saying his name made him seem like a stranger. But Nick Stark had been on her mind since she’d been a teenager. The first time she’d read about him killing his stepfather and how he’d been put into foster care after. Her parents, of course, thought he should have been put in prison, but not her. She remembered the conversation that had been the starting point of her obsession with the young man.

“Children should have no rights other than what their parents tell them. Why, if they did, think of how things would be going now.” Addie wondered even then if her mother had any idea what was going on in the world other than her garden club and the country club. “If I had my way, I’d strap him to a table and fill him full of lethal drugs. One less degenerate in the world, if you ask me.”

“The paper said that the man raped him and his sister.” Addie’s mother looked at her as if she’d completely forgotten who she was. It was on the tip of her tongue to remind her, but her mother spoke first.

“Rape indeed. All children make up stories to make themselves the victim on one thing or another. The man was probably a loving man who had nothing more to do with all this than that man last week did. You remember, darling. The man who was accused of killing his entire family because the ghosts told him to.” Addie looked at her parents, wondering who was the most stupid. At the time she’d been all of twelve and knew then that her family was much different than others she’d known.

Her father was Dalton West of the West Iron Works. Her mother—another Addison but went by her given name and not the shortened one as Addie did—was a socialite. And she was damned good at it too. Her parents had been born rich and would die richer. Something that Addie knew from the time she formed her first thought.

“What if he’s telling the truth?” She’d asked her mother, knowing that she was pushing the limits of her mother’s temper. “What if this man really did those things to him?’ Her mother tisked at her and rang the little bell by her side. When May came in to see what she needed next, her mother looked at her.

“Addison is going to be locked in her room for one week. And she is to get nothing but bread and water during that time. Do I make myself clear?” May said she understood and put out her hand to Addie. “If I find that you’re not doing as I’ve asked, I’ll make sure you never work again.”

As they left the room, May handed her a candy bar. It would be the first of many that she’d bring her while she was locked up. This wasn’t the first time that her mother had had her locked away like some sort of animal, nor, she supposed, would it be the last. Addie went to her room and heard the door lock into place before she moved to the small door just inside her closet. After she moved through it, Benton met her on the stairs with a sack of food. Saying nothing to him or him to her, she took it and moved back to her room. After stashing away what she’d been given, Addie would lay on her bed and wait. It had been a long week.

“And now here I sit in an abandoned house wondering if I should have married dumbass and been finished with it.” Addie rolled to her back and looked at the stained ceiling. “Oh Nicky, I wish you and I had met in real life.”

When someone pulled into the driveway, she peeked out the window to see a large SUV in the drive. Looking around the room, she pulled her pack to her and scrambled into the cubby-hole, bringing it shut behind her. Moving as far back from the now closed opening as she could, she calmed her breathing and her heart rate until she was sure no one could hear her. Then she heard the people on the stairs.

“You think there’s enough space here?” A man’s voice asked someone. “I mean, it’s out here off the beaten path enough, but we have a lot of equipment to set up too.”

“It’ll be perfect. I can’t wait to see their faces when we come back with the real deal.” The two men were in the room with her. She closed her eyes and wondered what the fuck she was supposed to do now. “Are you sure that this is the house? The one that’s supposed to be haunted? I’d hate to think how much time we’re going to be spending here and not get a real ghost.”

“It’s the house.” Addie wondered what the hell they were talking about when the man continued. “It had better be anyway. All this money for this stuff is expensive. We’ll come back tomorrow and set it up. Then we’ll wait.”

“Great.”

Yeah, great, Addie thought as the men moved out of the room. When she heard the car start below her, she counted to one hundred before she moved. Going out of the little room, she looked around and thought about what she had to do now. There was no way she could stay in her little house.

Gathering her things, she made her way to the big barn. She’d stayed there a couple of times over the last year but never for long. Taking her bag to the upper floors, she stashed it under the bales of old hay and went back for the other bags. It was nearly dark when she was moved in.

Addie was so screwed right now and smiled when she thought of what the two men were going to be looking for. Ghosts. Who the hell believed in ghosts, she wondered.

About the Author

Kathi Barton, author of the bestselling series Force of Nature, lives in Nashport, Ohio with her husband Paul. In addition to writing full time Kathi likes to spend time with her eight grandkids, three children and three children-in-laws. She writes to relax and have fun.

Her muse, a cross between Jimmy Stewart and Hugh Jackman brings them to life for her readers in a way that has them coming back time and again for more. Her favorite genre is paranormal romance with a great deal of spice. You can visit Kathi on line and drop her an email if you’d like. She loves hearing from her fans.
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