Haunted (33 page)

She rose, sputtering, gasping.

And then, a miracle.

“Darcy!”

Had she imagined it? Or had she really heard a voice?

“Here, here! I'm here! Help!”

Nothing then, she heard nothing at all. She hadn't shouted loudly enough, not to combat the wind and the rain. Her voice had grown hoarse, almost nonexistent.

“Darcy!”

She wasn't imagining it. Matt's voice.

She jumped, throwing herself as high as she could. “Matt! Here, Matt, here, please!”

And then, at last, the limbs were ripped from the top of the grave, piece after piece. “Oh, God, yes, thank God, thank you, thank you!” she heard herself gasping.

The last of the oak was pulled away, and she was standing in the mire, looking up. The sky was dark.

She saw only his form.

Huge, hands on hips, glaring down.

And for a moment she felt a twinge of panic.

Matt. How had he known that she was here—unless he had pushed her in. Maybe he hadn't come to save her at all. Maybe he was about to reach down and use his imposing size and strength to press her down, down into the muck and mire, where she couldn't breathe, where she would slowly struggle and fight until she….

He hunkered down by the side of the grave.

She'd thought it before. Maybe she'd been pushed, just shoved into the grave, so that someone could come back….

And finish her off.

“Jesu, how in the hell…?” he said. “Take my hand.”

He didn't give her a chance. He reached for hers.

Inadvertently, she pulled back.

“Are you hurt?” he asked anxiously.

“No.”

“Let me get you out of there!”

She swallowed hard, let him get a good grip on her hand.

A moment later, she heard a strange suctioning sound—she hadn't even realized that the water had turned the earth to such a grasping muck. And still, it gave her up. He reached down to slip an arm beneath her right shoulder, pulling her out.

They both fell to the side of the grave. The rain continued to sluice down upon them. He stared at her a moment before righting himself, and reaching to help her up.

“You're like a goddamn ice cube!” he said. “How the hell
did you manage to fall into a grave? Never mind, let's just get you back to the house.”

She was shaking, trembling. Her knees weren't holding her. He picked her up and carried her to the car, setting her into the passenger's side.

He found a blanket in the back and drew it around her shoulders. “How could you have missed a hole that damned big?” he asked her, turning the key in the ignition, and hitting the switch for the heater.

I didn't fall in—I was pushed!

But she didn't say the words. Yes, she had been pushed. But by a
who
or a
what
, she didn't know.

Matt himself?

“The rain…I was running from the rain. I thought I could just leap over the brick wall and reach the cars faster,” she stuttered out.

“Oh, man, Darcy, look at you. Are you hurt? No broken bones? Sprained ankle?”

A crack on the temple. Maybe one that made her mind wander too fiercely.

“I'm fine.”

“Are you?” he murmured. He glanced at her, his look concerned and anxious. “This place isn't good for you, is it?” he murmured, more to himself than to her.

“I'm all right,” she repeated. They were driving through rain, but at long last, it seemed to be slackening. “Matt?”

“Yes?”

“How did you know where to find me?”

“What do you mean?”

“How did you find me? That oak had covered the entire grave. And actually…it did take you a while.”

He scowled, cast her a glance, and looked back to the road. “We all thought you'd gone off with Max Aubry.”

“Gone off with him?”

“Clint said you were determined to talk to him, that you could handle yourself.”

“I did handle myself, very well, thank you.”

“There were so many cars, as well. I didn't realize you were really missing until Adam said that Max Aubry approached him when he was leaving.”

“I see,” Darcy said.

He drove fast. They reached the entry to Melody House, and he swung hard into the drive, halting the car abruptly, coming around the side for her. He opened the door in haste, then paused, staring at her suspiciously.

“You're not going to tell me that a ghost reached a bony hand out of a grave and wrenched you down into it, are you?

“Nope. Absolutely not,” she assured him.

“Come on. I'll help you.”

“I can manage on my own, thanks.”

She slid quickly out of the car, and up onto her feet. But the world seemed to waver before her. She gritted her teeth hard, feeling the pounding at her temple where she'd struck the earth hard as she'd catapulted into the open grave.

“You're going to slip in the mud!” Matt said impatiently. He swept her up.

Her limbs still felt frozen. She couldn't fight. He walked up the steps to the porch, fumbled with his key, and opened the front door.

A moment later, they were on the stairway.

They passed the spot where, sometime in the past, two lovers had battled viciously, before the man had swept the woman into his arms…

And into the Lee Room.

Just as Matt now carried her.

And, just as in the past, he laid her down upon the bed, and turned away.

And once, in the past, a man had realized just what a woman
knew, and what she could tell the world about him. He had turned back to her, wound his fingers around her throat, and strangled the life from her.

Matt turned back to her.

“Damn you, Darcy!” he said softly.

And came toward her.

“T
hey're taking a really long time,” Penny said, looking at her own empty plate and the untouched hamburger she had ordered for Matt.

“Yes, well, we can order coffee,” Delilah said. “I'd really love some coffee.”

“I just wish we all knew where Darcy was,” Penny murmured.

“But, surely, nothing could have happened to her!” Delilah said.

“I'm certain that everything is all right,” Carter said firmly.

“Wonderful,” Delilah said, smiling. “We'll all order coffee, and hopefully, they'll arrive along with it.”

“So what's taking so long?” Clint demanded.

“I think that I should get back to Melody House as quickly as possible,” Adam Harrison said.

They all stared at him.

Penny jumped up. “Adam! Do you have a feeling, a hunch? What's wrong? Should we all be running out of here?”

“Penny, I'm so sorry, calm down,” Adam said. “I don't have a feeling about anything. I just assume that, if Darcy had been caught in the rain or anything, Matt would have taken her straight back to the house.”

“Of course!” Penny said with a sigh of relief. “Mae, would you get the check for us, please? Or better yet, can you just bill the whole thing to Matt?”

“Naturally,” Mae said.

“I really think we should order coffee!” Delilah said, somewhat plaintively. “What if Matt is bringing her here? Then we'll all be in cars going in different directions.”

“Who could drink coffee at a time like this?” Penny said, glaring at Delilah.

“Delilah has a point,” Carter said.

Adam let out something of an exasperated sigh. “I'll head back to Melody House, and the rest of you stay here. That way, we'll be covered.”

They all stared at him.

“Good idea, right? Miss Dey, you go right ahead and order your coffee. When I get to the house, I'll call.”

He started toward the door. The bar phone began to ring. Sim picked it up. “Hello…yes?” He held the receiver away from his mouth. “Hey! Mr. Harrison. You don't need to go anywhere. He's got her. Matt's got her. She fell into a grave, can you imagine that?”

He was answered by silence. And in the bar, one by one, they all looked at one another.

 

Darcy ran the water in her shower, feeling like an idiot. She'd almost cringed when he turned to her, but he hadn't even glanced at her then. “Can't believe this—I forgot to call and tell them that I'd found you. You're really all right? Feels like I'm always saying that to you, Darcy. It's why you shouldn't be here,” he added somewhat harshly. “Grab a shower. Then, if you want, we'll drive on over to the Wayside Inn. I'm sure the others have finished their meals by now, but I don't know what we've got around here right now, and since you're the lost lamb at the moment, the others are going to want to see you. I'll be in my room. I think I could use a shower and change, too.”

So Matt was gone.

No violence, and no passion, either.

And now, out of the hole, away from the terror, she was at a complete loss. Had she been pushed, or had it been the wind?

She dumped her clothes straight into the garbage—the summer silk black tank and skirt were never going to be the same again. She thought she'd hate the outfit the rest of her life anyway, always associating it with an afternoon in an open grave. Before hopping beneath the shower spray, she opened the medicine chest and downed several ibuprofen tablets, anxious to avoid the headache that threatened.

A shower had never felt so good. She had the water steaming, the pressure hard, and she stayed far longer than she should have. But she emerged mudless, hair squeaky-clean, and feeling far stronger than she had when she had first emerged from the pit.

The rain had turned the warmth of the day into a coolness that didn't quite fit with the Virginia summer and she had been chilled to the bone. She found a light knit sweater and jeans, and dressed quickly.

She paused for a moment, wondering if the ghost was being recessive, hiding, but watching. She felt as if the room were warm, not at all cold. If the ghost was there, and watching, it was with sympathy, and no other emotion.

She exited her room just as Matt left his.

“Ready? We don't have to rush. If anyone wants to move on, they can. Your hair is still wet.”

“It's all right. It will dry.”

He nodded, and lifted an arm, indicating that she should precede him down the stairs. She was irritated to realize that she was afraid to do so.

She hurried down each step, anxious to keep a distance from him. When he opened the front door, they saw that the rain had stopped completely. But evening was there, and the darkness seemed more ominous than ever.

Matt didn't seem to notice. He walked ahead of her, and opened the passenger's seat door of his car. She slid in.

He didn't speak on the drive to the Wayside Inn. But she caught him glancing at her frequently.

“What wrong with you?” he asked her.

“Nothing. Really. I was pretty shaken up, of course. No one likes to fall into an open grave. And, of course, I was soaked. But now…I'm fine.”

He didn't reply, but she knew he was still watching her, as if not believing a word she'd said. But they reached the Wayside Inn, and she jumped out of the passenger's seat before he could walk around. Darcy hurried toward the door and was startled when it was flung open.

Clint was the first one out, reaching her, picking her up, swinging her around, and looking at her anxiously.

“Poor baby! We all walked off and left you in a grave!” he said, dismayed.

“Clint, you can set me down. I'm fine. Just fine.”

“Darcy!” Adam was the next one out. He didn't lift her, and she offered him a warm hug before he could crush her.

“I'm fine. Thank God Matt came to get me out. Otherwise, I'd still be there, screaming.”

“Matt! Good going. But how did you find her?” Carter asked, bursting out the door behind Adam.

“Hardly brilliant police work,” Matt said dryly. “We'd left her in a churchyard. I went back to it.”

“Naturally!” Penny said, poking her head out of the door. “Darcy, dear, I ordered you a hamburger along with a new one for Matt. I hope that's okay. I mean, you've been with us long enough for me to know that a ghost buster isn't necessarily a vegetarian. Why one would assume such a thing anyway…never mind. Is a hamburger all right?”

“Lovely, Penny, thank you,” Darcy said.

“And we've nice hot coffee on the table for you already!” Mae called loudly from within.

“Bless you!” Darcy shouted back.

Clint held the door open. Carter ushered her on through. Mae caught her, hugged her, and Mrs. O'Hara came up to her as well, eyes huge. “Poor, poor, dear! You are accident prone, Darcy. But I hope you don't think that it's Stoneyville. We're really a wonderful little place. I'd never want you to go away thinking otherwise.”

“Great!” Clint teased, grabbing Darcy's hand and leading her to her place at the table. “Don't be fooled. They all thought you'd gone over to the enemy. Okay, so maybe I did, too.”

“The enemy?” she said.

Clint made a face. “Max Aubry.”

“Of course, I didn't go off with Max Aubry.”

“Did you tell him that you were a psychic, and that you can talk to ghosts?” Penny asked anxiously.

“No,” Darcy said. She was aware of Matt watching her, arms crossed over his chest. “I explained to Mr. Aubry that our firm worked through solid research, and that was that.”

“Clint! This is horrible. We're worried about what poor Darcy might have said, when she just spent an hour in a grave,” Penny protested.

“I would have died,” Delilah said. “I would have flat-out died of the fear. But then, you are you, and I imagine that you just told the bones or ghosts what they could do with themselves!”

“No,” Darcy said pleasantly. “I was frightened. Truly frightened. It was an eerie experience—even for me.”

“Let's hope you don't catch your death of cold!” Mae piped in. “Drink up that coffee, it's nice and warm. Soup! You should have some soup. And I made chicken noodle from scratch. Sim! Get a bowl of that chicken noodle for Darcy.”

“I could go for a bowl myself,” Matt said. “Sim, would you mind?”

Carter left Delilah's side long enough to grab the chair next to Darcy's. He touched her cheek. “Thank God!” he said softly.
He shook his head, amazed, looking at Matt. “She was inside the grave! And you still found her.”

“Inside, covered by the old oak. It went down, lightning,” Matt said. He looked at Darcy. “She's a fighter. She was still screaming. She was easy to find.”

“Hey, why didn't you call someone?” Clint asked.

“The cell phone is dead.”

“Better a phone, than a person!” Mae said cheerfully.

“Of course.” Darcy laughed.

“You're really not hurt?” Clint asked.

“I'm really not hurt,” Darcy said.

Clint offered her an ironic half smile. “Hm. Well, I will say—you are accident prone. But thankfully, you bounce right back.”

“Thankfully,” she agreed.

Delilah sighed. “You're certainly much braver than I. And I was under the belief that I was a highly competent woman!”

“I'm sure you are,” Darcy murmured.

“But, at least, you did have to be dragged from the grave,” Delilah said.

“Couldn't get out myself,” Darcy told her.

“But you tried hard, huh?” Clint said, picking up her hand. “Look at what you did to your palms.”

She gently extricated her hand. “Naturally, I tried.”

“We'll get some aloe on those palms,” Penny said firmly.

“They'll be fine,” Darcy said.

Sim brought them bowls of soup. They smelled wonderful.

“Oh, my, what a story!” Delilah said. “Thank the Lord that Max Aubry isn't here now. Can you imagine his headline? ‘Psychic thrown in a grave at ceremony for skull she discovered!'”

“You're right, Delilah, let's be glad he isn't here,” Matt agreed, obviously irritated.

“I'm here,” Jason Johnstone said, “but don't worry, Matt. I have no intention of writing up the incident.”

“Actually, why not? It is news,” Mae commented. Matt
glared at her. “But then again, the ceremony was so beautiful. That's what should be in the news.”

Matt looked at Jason. “Hey, write what you see as the truth,” he told him.

Delilah let out a long sigh. “Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to get home. Make some of the calls I should have made during the day. I'm actually not my own boss, not the way Matt is.”

“I'll be going in, too, tonight, Delilah,” he informed her.

She smiled at Carter. “Thanks for the escort through the graveyard. I admit, any time I was in that place on my own, even for just a few minutes, I felt creepy.”

“Delilah!” Penny chastised. “It's a beautiful cemetery and church.”

“Sure. Of course. And that's how I always make sure we write it up when I work with the tourist board! Darcy, I truly hope you suffer no ill effects. Bye, all!”

“I'll see you to your car,” Carter said.

Adam yawned. “Sorry!” he apologized. “It's not the company. But I'm not a young man. Now that I know Darcy is safe with you, Matt, I'm heading back for a long, hot bath. Anyone with me?”

Clint nodded, rising. “I guess I should be getting back, too. Since you're together, of course, and no one is left dining alone!”

“I've work to do, too,” Penny murmured.

“We're fine, right, Darcy?” Matt said.

“Of course,” she murmured.

The hamburgers had come. She was famished, she realized. And once she had eaten, she knew that she would feel much stronger. And far more sane.

Far less suspicious.

The others left. Even Sim went home. Mae was there to handle the bar.

As they finished the hamburgers, Darcy and Matt were
alone. They didn't talk, but ate. He consumed his last bite a minute after Darcy had given up.

He set his napkin on the table, eyeing her. “Let's play pool.”

“Pool?”

“Yeah, come on, since you're a shark. Let's see if you can beat me.”

He rose, catching her hand, dragging her to her feet. “I don't know if we should play right now,” she protested.

“We should definitely play. You keep insisting you're fine, so let's play.”

“All right.”