JanesPrize (9 page)

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Authors: Margrett Dawson

BOOK: JanesPrize
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He took hold of her face and kissed her on
the lips, long and hard. She felt her resolve melting like snow in April. With
the last remnants of her good sense, she pulled away.

“Sleep well.”

 

“Did you have a nice evening, dear?” Her
mother was settled in the big armchair watching the late news but she clicked
the remote to mute the sound and looked up with a bright smile.

“Yes, thank you.”

“I’ll make some coffee.” She pushed on the
arms of her chair to rise but Jane stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“I have to talk to you, Mom.”

“What about, dear? You’re not sick, are
you? You’re looking a bit pale.”

“No, I’m not sick, just tired.”

She sank onto the ottoman next to the
armchair while on the TV a building blew up in absolute silence and people ran
for cover. She pulled her gaze away and took her mother’s hand.

“You know I’ve appreciated you letting me
live here,” she began. “And you know I’ve been saving for an apartment of my
own.”

Her mother nodded.

“Well, I think I have enough put by and I’m
going to start looking for a place.”

“My dear, that’s wonderful news.”

Jane stared at her. “It is?”

“Of course. It’s time you were on your own,
without worrying about me, and time I had some freedom too.”

“Really?” It had never occurred to Jane
that she could be a nuisance to her mother. She’d only thought about her
mother’s presence cramping her own style.

“Why yes. I’d like to take a vacation on
one of those singles cruises, you know. And sometimes I’d just like not to have
to cook or think about whether or not you’ll be home.”

“But you always say you worry about me.”
Jane thought of the evidence of tears when she’d come back from the Newland
house.

“I know, and I’ve been thinking about that.
When you were away at college I used to think about you but I didn’t worry.
It’s because you’re around all the time that I let my imagination go wild.” She
smiled. “Not enough to think about. Or at least not the right kind of thing.”

“I see,” Jane said weakly. She had to get
this right. “So you’re not going to mind if I move out fairly soon?” She
flashed on the image of Pierce in the bed, with the sheet barely covering his
stupendous package and his muscles rippling as he moved.

“Not one bit. I saw a great offer on a trip
to Mexico in the fall. I think I’d like to try it.”

“I see,” she said again. “That’s great,
Mom. I think you should do that.”

“You do look tired, dear. Why don’t you pop
off to bed and I’ll finish watching the news. Dr. Ruth’s on next. She’s talking
about sex over fifty.”

“Really?” It was true. Her mother wasn’t
yet sixty. Jane had never thought of her as a sexual being. It made her feel a
bit strange.

She heaved herself to her feet. Maybe
tomorrow it wouldn’t feel so odd. “Goodnight, Mom.”

“Goodnight, dear.”

Jane trudged up the stairs to the renewed
sound of the TV. “That was easy,” she muttered. In fact everything had been
easy. The wicked stepmother hadn’t appeared to kill off Pierce. The police
officer hadn’t insisted on ID. Her mom would quite like to have her house and
her life back. Now all Jane had to do was to enlist Annice’s help to get Pierce
some ID.

Piece of cake
.

Chapter Nine

 

Much to her surprise Jane slept reasonably
well. In fact she rolled into bed after giving her teeth a quick scrub and
deciding she had no energy to shower, then slept like the dead.

She woke at first light, disoriented for a
moment. She stretched out a hand for Pierce and remembered her refusal to sleep
with him. She would have liked to wake with him by her side, solid and warm,
ready to make love again. Only three days and he already belonged in her bed.
She reminded herself there was supposed to be more to life than sex but she
wasn’t convinced.

But maybe abstinence was a good thing. She
ran her hands down her sides and felt the quiver in response. Her body was
refreshed by the hours of rest and she was already looking forward to breaking
her sexual fast.

She stretched full length and wondered what
Pierce was doing. Probably thinking about breakfast. The motel offered free
coffee and bagels in the morning so he’d keep body and soul together.

Full of energy, she sprang from the bed and
headed for the shower.

A half hour later, clean and scented with
body lotion and shampoo, she headed downstairs to the aroma of coffee.

As she poured herself a cup she heard the
shower in her mother’s bathroom. The phone rang. The sound of the water stopped
immediately and before she could reach the handset on the wall her mother had
picked up.

She shrugged and sipped her coffee.
Probably one of the gardening clique or the book club.

Her mother came into the kitchen a few
minutes later, a flush on her cheeks. Just for something to say, Jane asked who
had been calling so early.

Her mother’s color deepened and she busied
herself with the coffee pot. “A friend.”

“Anyone I know?”

“No, we met quite recently.”

Jane turned with interest and saw the blush
and the coy look. “Mom! It’s a guy!”

“A gentleman, yes.”

“Are you dating him?”

“Not exactly. We thought we might take a
trip out to the beach and have lunch.”

“That’s a date!” She flung an arm ‘round
her mother. “I’m pleased for you, Mom. Is he good-looking?”

“Of course. He’s tall.”

“Tall is good.”

“He dresses very well.”

“Even better.”

“His name is James.” Not Jim, James.

“I see.”

“I like him.”

Jane kissed her mother’s cheek. “Sounds
great, I’d like to meet him.” She glanced at the wall clock. “Gotta go. Tell me
all about it later.”

 

Annice was already in the coffee shop,
stirring a foaming cappuccino. Jane ordered a latte and sat down.

“Let’s get right to it,” Annice began.
“Pierce looks exactly like the guy in the big portrait in the house. What
gives?”

“You saw it,” Jane said weakly.

“Of course I saw it. It’s only about ten
feet tall. I knew you led me away from it. Put that all together with all the
other stuff and I smell a rat. I have to be at work in half an hour so tell me
all about it.”

Jane cleared her throat and played with a
packet of sugar. “When I was out at the Newland house. Something really did
happen. I saw Pierce…”

“Did he break in?”

“No, he was already there.”

“Already there? You mean he was living
there?”

“Not exactly.”

Annice frowned. “So he just came calling,
like a siding salesman?”

Jane closed her eyes. “You’re not going to
believe this—”

She gave a summary of what had happened
during her stay at the mansion. When she’d finished she opened her eyes and
took a mouthful of coffee.

“You’re right, I don’t believe it. It’s not
possible.”

“I know. But there’s no other explanation.”

“And you’re telling me you just went to bed
with him? Just like that? Wham, bam thank you ma’am?”

“It wasn’t exactly—”

“How do you know he’s not some pervert
who’ll chop you into small pieces and leave you in a super strength garbage
bag?”

“I know. If he’d wanted to hurt me he’s had
lots of opportunity.” But Annice was right. When she thought of how vulnerable
she’d been… She raised her chin in a gesture of defiance. “Besides, just think
about it. I saw the whole scene with his stepmother. If that was some enactment
where did she go, taking the furniture and everything with her? How come Pierce
doesn’t know anything about anything invented since the Depression?”

“Has it occurred to you he could be
pretending?”

“Why? What’s the point?”

“That I don’t know.” Annice twirled her
coffee spoon, lost in thought. “Okay, I’m not saying I do believe it but for
the sake of argument let’s suppose it’s true. Pierce was a ghost and you
brought him back to life. What next?”

“I have to find a way to get him some
identity. If he’s related to the Newlands he could go see his last remaining
relative, establish his claim.”

“Hmm. To do that he’d need good
documentation. A computer geek might be able to do it.”

“Do you know any?”

Annice nodded. “It wouldn’t be cheap.”

Jane looked at her friend, a sudden ray of
hope blooming. “Are you saying you would help?”

“Well, I have come into contact with a few
people who skirt the law. The cops do it all the time, giving people new
identities. It’s possible.” She pushed her cup to one side. “But I have to know
he’s for real. I have to be sure he’s not some psycho just escaped from maximum
security.”

“I don’t know how to do that.” Jane felt an
ache in her chest and placed a hand over the spot. “My heart tells me he’s
telling the truth.”

“My heart is intact and my head tells me to
be careful. I’ll check things out. See if there are any police notices out for
escapees. Let’s meet for lunch.” She stood and put her hand on Jane’s shoulder.
“Hang in there, kiddo. If he’s legit I’ll help you, although I probably need my
own head examined.” She looked across the coffee shop. “Speak of the devil.”

Pierce waved from the counter and made his
way toward them.

Conflicting thoughts churned in Jane’s head
as she watched him approach. Relief at the possibility of getting Pierce the
documentation he needed, concern at how much it might cost. Would she have
nothing left for her new apartment? Add to that her natural fear of involvement
with people on the fringe of the law. She was a teacher. She had to guard her
reputation. A raft of concerns flashed through her mind in the few moments he
took to arrive at her side and take her hand. Immediately all her doubts
disappeared and the familiar glow of joy lit up in her heart.

“Jane,” he said, and the sound of his voice
sent a tremor deep in her insides. She could only hope that she didn’t look as
goofy as she felt.

He put out a hand to Annice. “How are you
this morning?”

Annice barely touched his fingers. “I’m
fine, thanks. Just leaving.” She swung her purse onto her shoulder, turned to
go then hesitated. She looked at them both, shook her head, obviously decided
not to say anything and left.

“Have you had breakfast?” Jane asked.

“No.”

“I should have told you where they serve
coffee and pastries at the motel…”

“I found that.” Pierce took Annice’s vacant
chair and picked up the menu. “That was an early morning snack, not breakfast.”

“I see.”

He scanned the listing. “Bacon, eggs,
sausage, toast. That sounds more like it.”

The waitress came to take the order and
Jane asked for a bran muffin, no butter, and a large pot of coffee. Her junk
food indulgence was over.

When the waitress left, Pierce pulled a
small notebook and pen from his back pocket and wrote something.

“What’s that?”

He looked up from under dark brows and
Jane’s heart lurched. God but he could turn her on with just his eyes and at
any time of the day. “Just the cost of the breakfast.”

“What do you mean?”

He leaned over the table and took her hand.
His fingers stroked her palm and the tingle between her legs spread further.
“When I get the house and if I inherit the family fortune, I shall pay you back
every penny for the clothes, the motel…”

Such an idea had never entered her head.
Besides, he might be counting chickens before the hen had even laid the eggs.
“That’s a nice thought but you don’t have to do that. Have you ever
considered,” she paused, wondering how to put it tactfully, “that there may not
be as much money as there was when you…left?”

He let go of her hand to let the waitress
put his huge plate of food before him. “This looks wonderful.” He eyed Jane’s
solitary muffin. “You don’t enjoy eating?”

“Yes I do but I’m not a breakfast person.”

He laughed. “What a strange expression.
Breakfast person.” He shook his head, poured ketchup and tackled the mound of
hash browns. “You were saying?”

“Maybe the family hasn’t done as well in
the past decades. There have been two world wars, many smaller ones, all kinds
of political upheaval.”

“Not to worry.” He speared a slice of crisp
bacon. She had to admit it looked delicious. “My family always had an eye on
the main chance. They’ll have found a way to make a buck and to hang on to it,
never fear.” He followed the direction of her gaze and picked up another piece
of bacon on his fork. He held out the delicacy. “Eat.”

She let him feed her and felt warm moisture
spread. He didn’t even have to touch her and she was ready to fall at his feet,
let him lead her where he wanted.

He finished his plate and mopped the egg
with a piece of bread. “I nearly forgot. Did you talk to your mother?”

Jane brought herself back from thoughts of
what they might do later. “I did. And she’s fine with me moving out.” She told
him about the man her mother had met and her plans for vacation. “So that’s one
problem solved.” She picked up the bill. “Shall we go?”

He drank some coffee. “There’s a bigger
problem.”

“I know, the ID—”

“No.” He shook his head and put down his
cup. “More than that.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I have such a
hard-on just looking at you I don’t think I can get up from the table.”

My God,
no
one had ever said such a thing to her before. She felt the hot blood rise in
her face.

He closed his eyes. “I just have to
remember something awful that happened to me and stop thinking about what I’d
like to do to you right here on this table.”

She glanced around but no one seemed to
have heard what he said. But she had heard it and it set her heart to pounding
even harder. A pulse began to throb in her pussy. Her lace panties were already
wet and her breasts ached.

He leaned away from the table and closed
his eyes. “I’ll think about my stepmother.”

That reminded her. “When did she die? Do
you know?”

He opened his eyes. “About five years after
she got rid of me.”

“So what did you do after you died and
before she…” Jane hesitated, what did one say? “Joined you?”

He frowned. “I don’t really know. It didn’t
seem like five years in earth terms, rather like being in a deep sleep. A
coma.”

He smiled at her. “Well that worked. I can
come out from behind the table.”

She wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed
that he was no longer ready to ravish her amongst the breakfast debris or
relieved that he wouldn’t be embarrassed as they walked out.

He shepherded her in front of him, one hand
warm on the small of her back. He might have recovered from his surge of lust
but she certainly hadn’t.

She fumbled in her purse for money to pay
the bill as they left. Outside they stood for a moment on the pavement. The sun
was warm on her face. Pierce bent to nibble her earlobe.

“Where are you going to take me?’ he
whispered.

She wanted to say “back to the motel” but
she made a big effort to be focused. “I have to go to the lawyers’ office to
return the camera.” And collect the rest of her check. “We have to talk about
our story. Don’t forget we have a ghost on the film.”

She felt him shrug. “That will be easy.
They believe it or they don’t.” That was true.

He kissed her neck and she felt the tip of
his tongue touch her overheated skin. “Where have you always wanted to make
love but never done it?”

She swallowed and took her courage in both
hands. “Doesn’t everyone fantasize about a public place?”

He sighed. “A woman after my own heart.
Lead on.”

She retrieved the camera from the back of
the car. “I think I’d better go in alone.”

“They won’t recognize me from the picture.
I’m just a fuzzy shape.”

“I know but you distract me.” She kissed
his cheek, just on the edge of his mouth. She wanted to move her lips further,
press harder, but she resisted. “I’ll do it better on my own.”

“If you say so. I’ll wander ‘round town and
try not to think about what we’ll do later. On second thought, I will think
about what we’ll do later.”

Jane made her escape before he could put
any more lustful ideas into her head.

 

“Oh my goodness.” Abigail, the motherly
secretary, stared wide-eyed at the TV screen where she had hooked up the
camera. “Oh my goodness me, will you look at that. What on earth is it?”

Jane pretended to peer more closely at the
image. “Do you think it’s a ghost? “

“Did you see anything while you were there,
dear? Were you scared?”

“Well I was a bit nervous at first but I
felt perfectly safe. But it does look as if there’s something there.” She
couldn’t confess she’d met the ghosts.

She and Pierce had done a good job. The
Vaseline on the lens and the dark shadows made it difficult to distinguish who
or what was moving around. The figure looked human enough but it was impossible
to make out any features or details of clothing.

“Oh dear, oh dear.” Abigail sounded really
distressed.

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