If I hadn't been so ticked off that he'd left me behind, I would have gone right to the door and called him inside. Instead, I let him flounder around in the woods until I saw the beam pause just at the edge of the lawn.
Knowing he had seen me from the lit window I did a little hand wave and took a sip of tea. The beam moved up to the window for a second, then down to the ground, where it swayed with determination across the lawn. In a few moments I saw Steven's outline as he came closer to the lights of the house.
He banged open the kitchen door and demanded, "Where have you been?"
I turned to face him, the leg of my pants still rolled up above my knee. "You left me in the woods, Pedro, and if it weren't for those orbs I'd still be out there lost and cold, so if I were you I'd be relieved that my partner managed to get back here safe and sound, instead of being so pissy."
Steven's eyes focused on my injured shin. "What happened to you?" he asked flatly.
"I was trying to keep up with you when I tripped on a root and smacked my shin on a stump."
Steven set the flashlight on the counter and came over to me. "Sit down and let me look at it."
"It's fine," I said.
Steven took another step closer, invading my personal space. "Sit down," he said softly.
With his body so close, my heart began to thump a little faster in my chest, and I felt the first tickles of perspiration along my brow. "I've already rinsed the dirt out; all it needs is a little ice," I said.
Steven gave me the same kind of look a parent gives a child when their patience has run out; then he took the mug of tea still in my hand, placed it on the counter, and in one quick move bent low, scooped me up into his arms, and carried me the few steps back over to the bar stool. "Hey!" I said as I was being lifted up.
"Shhhh," he said as he deposited me on the stool. "Settle down and let me look."
I could feel heat come into my face as his warm hands felt along my shin. I winced a few times as he pressed on my skin where most of the swelling was happening, and let out one big "Yeowch!" when he tapped on the spot that took the brunt of the blow. Stepping back he said, "It's not broken, but you're going to have a bad braise."
"Thanks," I said, and began to roll down my pant leg.
"Hold on," he said, placing his fingers around my wrist. "It's better to ice it first." I waited while he went to the freezer and extracted a package of peas. He grabbed the other bar stool and propped my leg on it before gently placing the peas on my injury.
"Yikes." I winced.
Steven smiled. "I'll be right back. Hold this in place until I tell you to, okay?"
I nodded as he walked out of the kitchen, and a moment later I heard the front door open. After a few more seconds he came back inside, carrying a little black duffel bag, which he deposited on the counter next to me, and from it extracted a vial of some antiseptic, some gauze, and a few cotton balls. Next, he sat down next to me and cleaned the nasty scratch the stump had made. He placed a bandage on it, then gently eased the package of peas back on top.
"Feeling better?" he asked after he'd put his first:aid kit back together.
I nodded, still uncomfortable at his close proximity. "Yeah, it's starting to numb up."
"Keep your weight off of it for the rest of the night," he said, reaching for my cup of tea.
"Got it," I said, extending my free hand for the cup. Before giving it to me Steven took a sip and held my eyes over the brim. The look he gave me was a smoldering one, and without thinking I bit my lower lip and squirmed ever so slightly.
One corner of Steven's mouth lifted, and he set the tea down on the counter again, just out of my reach.
"Can I have that back?" I asked.
Steven's eyes still held mine as he said, "Caffeine will keep you up. As your doctor I think it would be better for you to sleep."
I rolled my eyes and leaned forward to retrieve the cup, which Steven moved farther out of reach again, playing with me. I shot him an irritated glare and leaned way over, trying to snatch the mug before he had a chance to move it. He was too quick for me, and picked it up with a chuckle, took one long slurp, and said, "You really want it that bad, eh?"
"I'm cold, and I'd like to warm myself up before you drink it all down," I snapped.
"Well, why didn't you say so?" Steven said as he moved toward me again and set the cup down right next to me.
I turned to pick it up when I felt a finger under my chin, lifting my gaze back up and away from the cup as he bent low and kissed me. "I didn't know you were cold," he cooed as his lips moved to my ear and he began to nibble on the lobe.
"All I need is the tea," I said hoarsely, trying hard not to gasp as his lips moved down the side of my neck.
"Shhhh," he said softly, and moved back to my lips.
The package of peas fell out of my hand and onto the floor with a slap as my hands went up to his neck. He pulled his face away from mine for one brief second at the sound of the peas hitting the floor; then he kissed me more deeply, and this time I moaned. After a few more seconds Steven picked me up again and carried me to the stairs. I looked up the long staircase and said to him, "I can make it, you know."
"Good to know," he answered, and marched up the steps. We reached the first floor and he headed down the corridor to the master suite. There he laid me gently on the bed, then crawled on the bed, his hips resting lightly on mine and his torso hovering over me as he propped up on his elbows to stare into my eyes. He spent a moment combing my hair out onto the bedspread and looking at me so hard that I squirmed against him. "God, you're sexy," he said.
I would have returned the compliment but he'd already lowered his mouth again to cover mine. His kiss deepened as my pulse quickened.
My fingers slid down his back and gripped his ass, which was small and firm and oh, so sexy. Steven pushed his hips forward into mine, and I moaned again as I felt the firmness of him between my legs. A second later he was off me and standing next to the bed, and I held a whimper in check as his warmth and weight moved away.
As he shrugged out of his shirt I could see what a fabulous body he had. Broad shoulders and defined pectoral muscles tapered down to a flat stomach and small waist. His upper chest was crested with black hair that formed a T down along his breastbone and meandered in a path that disappeared below his belt. I heard a low chuckle and looked up to see his eyes dancing with merriment. "Like what you see?"
I raised one eyebrow. "What else you got?"
Steven laughed. "Plenty," he said with confidence.
"I'll believe that after I've seen the full monty," I quipped.
Steven gave me a sexy grin and began to slowly unbutton his jeans. Just as I was about to see if monty was in fact a python, a huge crash rang out right below our bedroom. "Holy crap!" I squealed as I jumped off the bed and hurried through the door, Steven close on my heels.
"What room did it come from?" I asked as we got to the stairs.
"The library," he said, and started ahead of me. We crested the landing and turned the corner into the library, surveying the scene. One of the giant bookcases that lined the wall had toppled over, strewing books all over the room and smashing a wing chair. "My God," Steven whispered.
My antenna was up and scanning the room. I felt the vestiges of something paranormal, but it was hard to tell whether it was male or female. For some reason it felt mixed. "Who did this?" Steven asked as he turned to me.
"They both did," I said.
"Grandfather and Maureen?"
"Feels like it," I said. "They both seem a little pissy, but I think it's with each other, not at us."
"Are we in danger of another temper trampoline?"
I grinned. "Temper tantrum. And no, once they pushed over this bookcase they both zipped back into the mist. I don't feel them hanging around here."
Steven bent over and picked up a book. "What a mess," he said.
"Yep. We'd better get started," I replied, and bent down to pick up an armful of books.
"Or we can go back upstairs and worry about this in the morning," he coaxed.
I avoided looking at him. The truth was that I'd been damn close to jumping his bones just now, and honestly, I'm just not that kind of girl. "I think we should pick this room up and keep a vigil. Andrew and Maureen are very active, and I believe they may take a short breather and come back to cause some more mischief."
"My idea sounds like more fun," Steven said.
"My idea will keep us safe," I replied as I put a stack of books on the nearby desk and turned to him. "Besides, you already had your fun this morning." The comment slipped out before I'd had a chance to think about saying it, and I immediately regretted it.
"I'm sorry, what?" he asked.
"I was out for a jog this morning," I said, blowing out a sigh. There was no way out of it now. "I saw you coming out of that woman's house. You two looked quite chummy together."
Steven actually laughed. "And did you recognize the woman I was with?"
I looked at him, and it was my turn to cock my head. "Yes," I said. "She was the waitress at that grinder restaurant."
"Annalise is a very old friend of mine," he began.
"I'll bet."
He smiled, as if he were amused by an inside joke I wasn't privy to, then moved over to where I was leaning against the desk and traced a line from my cheek to my collarbone with his finger. The move was so light it made me want to shudder, but I stiffened instead. "During the summer holidays when I visited my grandfather, he would pay her to watch after me to give my mother some time for herself," he explained.
"She was your babysitter?" I asked, a little surprised by how far back they'd known each other.
"Yes," he said with a broad smile. "That first summer I was eleven and she was sixteen. I had a … er… crash into her? You know, to like someone older than you?"
"You had a crush on her," I supplied.
"Yes, I was crushing. It feels the same when you are a young boy and suddenly these urges develop, you know?"
"Did she ever reciprocate?" A forward question to ask, but he seemed to be opening up, and I wanted to know.
"No, I wasn't the Sable she was interested in," Steven said, and there was the smallest bit of venom in his voice.
"What?"
"She was much fonder of my father," he said.
"You're kidding," I said, watching him closely for any hint of deception. "But I thought he stuck to Boston?"
"My grandfather was a forgiving man. He always held on to the hope that my father would come around. So he would invite dear old Dad up for a weekend, but my father would refuse to come to the lodge while I was here. They would meet in town at Helen's and talk, and after a few days Steven Sr. would go back home."
"So, what happened between Annalise and your dad?"
"Annalise is Helen's niece. She worked at the bed-and-breakfast for a few years, and that's how she met my father. My mother heard from some of the locals that she and my father had an affair, and this upset my mother, because she had thought he might still love her. That was when I was fifteen, and after that my mother refused to come here during the summers."
"So, Annalise and your father had an affair, and then he ended it and that was it, right?" I had a feeling there was more to it, but I wanted to see what Steven would tell me.
"No, unfortunately not. Annalise became pregnant and had a baby girl."
"Your father had another illegitimate child?"
"I don't know for sure," Steven said as he went back to stroking my collarbone. "Annalise never told me or anyone who the father was. But twelve years ago she gave birth to a little girl she named Shanah."
"Doesn't Shanah wonder who her father is?" I asked.
"Shanah doesn't wonder much at all. She's mentally handicapped. Annalise tried to give birth at home, but the baby was deprived of oxygen. Shanah nearly died."
"That's so sad," I said, feeling ashamed of myself for prying.
"Yes, it is. Now Annalise works two jobs and does the best she can to take care of her daughter. She knew I was in town, since we stopped for a grinder, and last night she called me in a panic because Shanah wasn't breathing properly—one of her many health conditions. I went over to help and stayed until this morning."
"I see," I said, looking back down at my feet again and feeling like an idiot. "Sorry about getting snippy, then."
"On the contrary," Steven said as he lifted my chin with his finger. "I like it that you're interested." And with that he kissed me deep and long, then picked me up and put me in the matching wing chair across the room. "Now stay off your leg. I will clean this mess up. You can keep me company with your great charm and wit."
That made me laugh, and I did keep him company, with a minor interruption when I made a call to check on Gil, until about three a.m., when we both curled up on the long sofa in the room and fell asleep.
Chapter 9
Over coffee the next morning, Steven and I discussed what we thought we'd seen in the woods. "I've seen all kinds of ghosts, phantoms, and things that go bump in the night, but that flash of gray wasn't one of those. I think it was human," I said flatly.
"You think some person was actually following us?"
"Could be."
We both puzzled on that for a bit, wondering what someone would be doing in the middle of the woods following the two of us. "But why are we so interesting?" I asked.
"That would depend on who's doing the following."
I continued to ponder the situation before saying, "Plus, after all that, we never did find where those orbs wanted to lead us."
"Odd how they disappeared the moment we heard someone behind us," Steven mused.
"Or maybe not," I said, looking pointedly at him. "Maybe wherever the orbs were leading us was for our eyes only."
"That's what I am thinking," Steven said. "But how do we get the orbs to come back and lead us to where they were taking us?"
"Maybe we can find it on our own," I said.
"You are thinking about the path in the woods?"
I nodded. "Yep, Toto, I think that's the yellow brick road. And if we really look at the starting point, I'll bet you ten bucks it's the same spot your grandfather walked to when we saw him from the upstairs window the other day."
"Okay, then," he said. "We'll go after the locksmith gets here."
"Say," I said, curious about something. "You spent lots of time here as a kid—you never noticed this path in the woods?"
Steven blushed slightly. "I never went near the woods," he admitted.
"What kid doesn't want to explore the woods?" I asked.
"The kind that nearly gets bitten by a coyote in the first week that he visits here," he said. "They were a real problem around here when I was young, and they are very scary-looking creatures."
I nodded. "I'm with you on that one," I said with a shudder. "And the noise they make—is that awful or what?"
"It can be quite frightening," Steven said. "But I haven't seen one around since we got here, so maybe they're not as much of a problem as before."
"Let's hope so. Anyway, I'd like to check out that tunnel if we can," I said. "Once we get that door open, I don't think it's a good idea to let it close on us again without knowing where it leads."
Steven smiled. "Okay, have it your way. Creepy dark tunnel first, scary woods full of ugly coyotes second."
I giggled. "Your English is improving," I said.
"I am jigsaw with that," he quipped. I didn't have the heart to tell him that he'd gotten Gilley's "jiggy" mixed up with a puzzle.
We waited an hour for the locksmith to show, which allowed us enough time to shower, get dressed, and munch on some dry cereal. The doorbell finally rang around nine thirty, and an older gentleman with a patch on his shirt that read, MICKEY, was at the door. "You two call for a locksmith?" he asked.
"Come in," Steven said as he held the door wide.
Mickey entered and took in the large hall. He let out a low whistle of
appreciation and said, "This is some place you got here, Dr. Sable."
"Thank you," Steven said. "The door we need help with is this way," he called as he led Mickey through the hallway to the kitchen and down the steps to the cellar.
I followed dutifully behind, watching the stairs as I went down, when I nearly crashed into Mickey because the front of the line had halted. "What's up?" I asked Steven, who was holding up the line.
Mickey said, "Doesn't look like you'll need a locksmith after all."
I poked my head around Mickey and saw what the holdup was. The door to the tunnel was wide open.
"Mickey," Steven said, turning to the locksmith but giving me a look. "I need you to change the lock on this door. And I'll want an extra key."
"No problem," Mickey said, and moved around Steven to get to work.
I came down the last few steps to stand next to him and said, "You know, I'd really like to know where this tunnel ends."
Steven nodded. "Me too. When he's done, I think we should go in."
"Works for me."
We waited for the locksmith to complete the switch on the lock, and Steven paid him, then showed him out. While he and Mickey headed up the stairs, I took the liberty of venturing into the tunnel a bit, but it was too dark for me to go more than a few feet. Trooping upstairs, I grabbed the flashlight and my night-vision camera and went back down. Steven joined me a moment later. "You ready?" he asked me.
"Yes. Here, you keep the flashlight, but don't turn it on. We'll find our way through the viewfinder of this," I said, holding up the camera. "It should pick up any weird spectral stuff that we wouldn't be able to see with the flashlight on."
"Got it," Steven said, and together we proceeded into the tunnel, each of us keeping a hand on the wall to help guide us. We'd walked about five or six yards when I heard dripping. Pointing the camera up, I noticed what looked like several beads of water coming off the ceiling.