Whispers (10 page)

The clock on Grandma Beck’s nightstand read three a.m. After making up the bed with a clean set of sheets she found in the linen closet, Gracie put on the oversized T-shirt and boxers she slept in and laid down. Juliet circled a few times, looked up sheepishly, and then tried her luck for the end of the bed. Exhausted and still reeling from the traumatizing day, Gracie didn’t scold her. Not tonight. Tonight she was grateful for the company.

She reached for the small bedside lamp and paused, hand halfway to the dangling chain, as a trickle of unease slid down her spine. Juliet lifted her head and gave a low growl as Gracie let her gaze slowly track the room. Shadows bathed the corners in twilight and cast stark silhouettes against the bulky furniture. The rain continued to pound the roof and the thunder boomed at irregular intervals. But the room was as still as only the hours after midnight can be.

And yet... She sat up, leaving the light on. Her skin pricked, her senses honed in to identify the source of her anxiety. It felt like ... She was being watched.

Juliet’s growl trailed off, but she remained alert, her attention fixed on the corner by the window.

“
What do you see?” Gracie breathed.

She slipped from beneath the covers, shivering in the plunging cold of the room. Juliet got to her feet, too, but remained on the end of the bed, still focused on the corner. Standing on the mattress, the dog was nearly as tall as Gracie, and she was comforted by that until Juliet’s growl became a snarl full of teeth and menace. What was there? What did Juliet see?

She waited, watching for something to move. This was ridiculous, a squeaky voice in her head tried to insist. She was alone. Yet, the feeling buzzed through her, undeniable. She thought of earlier that night... the scream that she’d heard muffled by her bath ... the eye staring back from the peephole ... the figure she’d seen under the old eucalyptus tree.

Slowly, she circled the room, each footstep eclipsed by her own elongated shadow as it crept across the floor and climbed the walls. She approached the corner that Juliet had under surveillance with something akin to terror. But closer inspection revealed dust and nothing else. Still, she felt the invisible eyes stalking her. She shook her head, wordlessly berating her imagination. But imagined or not, the sensation of being hunted felt real. All at once, the hairs at the back of her neck rose, and she pivoted around.

The corner was no longer empty.

Juliet’s snarl became a fierce bark as she hurled herself off the bed at the man who’d appeared. In the same instant, Gracie shrieked and tried to run. But her feet tangled in the braided rug and sent her flying into the bed.

Time seemed to slow to each ticking second. The mattress bounced as she fell on it, Juliet’s nails clicked wildly against the floor as she lunged for the corner, and the man vanished. Gone in the same heartbeat he’d appeared. Gracie stared at the place where he’d been, unable to process what she’d seen, what was no longer there. Juliet was having the same problem. She circled and sniffed in frenzy, whining when she found nothing to explain what had happened.

In the next instant the bedroom door flew open. Analise rushed in, her long legs bare beneath the pajamas Gracie had packed for her, followed a step later by Reilly. His shirt was off, the top button of his jeans was undone, and his feet were bare.

“
What happened?” he said at the same time that Analise asked, “Are you okay?”

Gracie couldn’t catch her breath, let alone answer. She stared at the corner. There was nothing—no one—there now. But there had been. A man. She’d seen him as clearly as she saw the alarmed pair standing in front of her. At the doorway, Chloe and her two disciples gathered with curiosity. Chloe moved to the front, Bill Barnes on her heels. The turban was gone and her white hair stuck up in thin, frizzy tufts. Gracie tacked on ten years to her previous estimate of Chloe’s age.

“
Mom?” Analise asked, staring at Bill and Chloe with wide eyes. Her shock was no wonder since they’d been upstairs by the time Analise arrived at the house, and no one had bothered to warn her about them.

The fear in Analise’s voice brought Gracie back from the edge of her own terror. She looked at the frightened face of her daughter and found her voice. “I’m fine. I tripped on the rug and fell,” she said.

“
He was here,” Chloe said, and Gracie could swear she heard fear in her voice.

“
Who was here?” Analise asked.

Gracie gave Chloe a pointed look. “Could you excuse us, please?”

Chloe nodded, but she stayed where she was, the yearning to enter too strong to deny. And yet she was afraid. Gracie knew it. Bill pulled her away and guided her and the priest back down the hall. She heard Zach’s voice as they met him on the way and Bill telling him to go back to bed.

Gracie tried to smile at her daughter. “Everything’s okay,” she said. “Those people are Grandma Beck’s boarders. You don’t have to worry about them.”

Analise looked back and forth between the bed, the corner of the room, and the open door.

“
Go back to sleep, honey. I’m sorry I shouted—it’s been such a long day I guess my nerves are shot.” Analise looked desperate to believe her. “Go on. Tomorrow will be a busy day. We’ll check on Brendan first thing. Go to bed.”

With a reluctant nod, Analise turned to the door. Before she stepped through she came back and gave Gracie a tight hug. “You get some sleep too.”

“
What was Chloe talking about?” Reilly asked as Analise shut her bedroom door.

Gracie shook her head and presented a blank face, but the corner mocked her with its emptiness. If she told him what she’d seen, he’d think her crazy. Not that she cared what Reilly Alexander thought. But was she sure she’d seen a man when she knew it was impossible that one had been there?

“
Hey,” Reilly said, his voice deep and soft. He placed a warm hand against her cold arm. “You’re shaking.”

Gracie nodded, trying to look anywhere but at his bare chest, which looked smooth and silky except for the line of hair that led down his flat belly to his jeans. His skin was the color of honey, golden and warm. He looked tired and disheveled, but at the same time watchful and prepared. For what? she wondered. The shadowed jaw and nearly shaven head gave him a tough-guy look that went deeper than the image. There was a hard edge to Reilly Alexander. She remembered it well.

He let his hands run up and down her arms for a moment, warm, soothing and at the same time disturbing her already tipped equilibrium.

“
It’s freezing in this room,” he said.

“
I know.”

“
All the air must be coming through in here. Maybe the other vents are blocked. Did you try closing it a little?”

“
I can’t find it.”

Juliet trailed him as he circled the room, searching for the source of cold air. “It must be behind the dresser or desk.”

“
Must be,” she agreed. She stayed perched on the edge of the bed, watching him. His back was muscled and sleek, like the rest of him. It tapered from broad shoulders to trim hips to long legs. Another small tattoo was at the base of his neck, this one a miniature sunburst. It looked Aztec or Mayan. His back flexed as he pulled the desk away from the wall to look behind it. Finding nothing, he pushed it back and looked behind the dresser. Watching him, her fingers curled into her palms. His skin would be warm to the touch, warm enough to distract her from the fear that still lingered low in her belly.

As if hearing her thoughts, he turned and Gracie felt a wave of heat flood her face and neck. What was wrong with her? Reilly was the last man she should be thinking about. She was here to collect her daughter, bury her grandmother, and then leave Diablo Springs behind forever. Not get mixed up with Reilly of all people.

“
I don’t see the vent either,” Reilly said, his voice pitched low. Husky. He came to stand right in front of her. She had to tilt her head and look up the length of his bare chest to meet his eyes. The position was intimate in itself—she sitting on the bed, he standing in front of her. His top button was undone and white boxers with a pattern of tiny penguins peeped out. She nearly smiled at that. Who’d have pictured such boxers on a man like Reilly Alexander?

“
Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“
It’s been a long day” she said. “I’m jumping at my own shadow.”

He scanned her face, searching for the lie in her voice. He didn’t find what he was looking for, but he nodded.

“
I’m just down the hall if you need anything,” he told her.

Yeah, right. Like she’d turn to him for help.

He flicked those dark eyes over her T-shirt and bare legs, and something hot gleamed in their depths when he looked back into her face. For an instant she expected him to bait her. Tease her with words as sexual as the gaze that steamed over her body. But he only stared at her for another moment before turning away and quietly closing the door behind him.

She sighed and flopped back on the mattress. Juliet crawled up beside her and nudged her nose against Gracie’s arm.

“
What did we see?” Gracie asked the dog.

Juliet didn’t answer. Instead she circled at the bottom of the bed before lying down. Her eyes, however, remained watchful.

Gracie glanced once more at the corner before slipping back under the covers. It was empty of course, and the feeling of being watched was gone. Still, she kept the lamp turned on. Sleep played an exhausting game of tug-of-war with her anxiety. She kept starting back awake, looking to the empty corner. And then another thought crowded into her overactive mind. Before changing, she’d locked her bedroom door. How then, had everyone been able to enter when she’d shouted?

Chapter Ten

AT six a.m., Gracie gave up trying to sleep. She showered and dressed, going through the motions of drying her hair and brushing her teeth. Grandma Beck’s toiletries were neatly lined on the vanity beside the sink. Gracie unscrewed the caps and smelled the lotions that had been a staple of her life. For a moment, the grief she’d kept at bay was more than she could bear. So many wasted years, years when she’d missed Grandma Beck so much. And now it was too late. Too late to make changes. Too late to do anything but mourn.

The hallway was silent when she stepped out—all of the interlopers remained behind closed doors, slumbering in the smoldering heat of the great house. On the way downstairs, she paused at her old room where Analise still slept to let the dogs out. Tinkerbelle and Romeo jumped down and followed her and Juliet to the first floor.

The heat downstairs hovered just around sweltering, as close to hell as Gracie hoped she’d ever come. Beyond the confines of the house it had to be cooler, but the storm had gained momentum during the night and the rain raged down in torrents. Still, with sweat already pooling at the small of her back, outside seemed the lesser of two evils. She opened the front door and stepped onto the porch. The wind blew gusts of pouring rain beneath the shelter and the sky looked like an angry bruise in shades of green and black. Like a lid, the clouds held the heat down on the earth, making it feel like a tropical island instead of a desert wasteland.

She stayed on the porch while the dogs braved the rain to do their business. In the distance she saw the wasted remnants of the bridge and the decking that had once circled the hot springs. She’d seen pictures downtown in the municipal building that showed the springs during its heyday when merry turn-of-the-century socialites lounged on that same deck next to the healing waters. Then the springs had vanished, the beginning of the end, more or less, for Diablo Springs. But somehow the town held on despite the fact that its one redeeming attraction had dried up.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Reilly coming out with two coffee cups in his hands. The sight of him brought a low vibration deep in her abdomen. He’d always had that effect on her. When she’d been twelve and he fifteen she’d thought he hung the moon. He didn’t notice that she existed until the summer he came back from his first year at college, though. The summer when life as she knew it had ended, when he had betrayed her in ways she’d never imagined possible.

He handed her a cup and said, “I didn’t know how you liked it so I took a guess at cream and sugar.”

“
Good guess,” she said.

He wore a T-shirt with a picture on the front of an American flag in the clutches of a pissed-off eagle and dark blue board shorts. He smelled shower fresh and looked rested, though she knew he couldn’t have slept many more hours than she. The scruff of beard remained on his face, matching the stubbly length of his hair. He was a grown-up now, an adult with a career and a future. But he still looked the part of the bad boy who’d raised hell with his brother all those years ago.

He took a seat on the porch swing and stretched his long legs out in front. Gracie thanked him for the coffee and nervously perched next to him. They swung gently for a moment, watching the storm while the dogs raced around in the rain.

“
What kind of dogs are those?” he asked.

“
Great Dane and Lab mostly. Who knows what else? Rescue dogs.”

“
They’re big.”

“
Good protection.”

He nodded. The Yorkie, Romeo, tippy-tapped up the stairs and came to sit at her feet. His fur was damp, and it looked like one of the girls may have rolled him in the mud. In general, he looked disgusted with the situation.