McCann's Manor (11 page)

Kim took a deep breath and smiled at him as she brought the salad to the table. “What a beautiful choice of music. I'm sorry, Wade. I guess I don't ever give you a fair shake anymore, do I?"

He ducked his head like a small boy, “Oh I don't know. You have always been nice to me. I know I'm a task to deal with. I don't mean to be that way. It's just ... well, when I'm close to you, I don't seem to have possession of any common sense at all. I say and do stupid things I would never say or do around other people."

Kim almost laughed as she thought about what he had said. “Not really your fault, you know. It is this tremendous
talent
I have for bringing out the worst in people, men in particular."

Wade did laugh then. “You're something else, you know that?” he said, glancing at her with wide, open eyes.

She grinned, supposing that was his innocent look, “Eat your salad, silly. What else are we having?"

"Oh, I broiled steaks and baked potatoes. It is pretty hard to mess those up, even for a klutz like me.” He looked at her, then back to his food. “They're warming in the oven."

They ate in silence for a few moments before Kim broached the subject she wanted to discuss. “Wade?"

"Yes, Kim? What is it?” He looked up, chewed as he listened.

"How well do you know John Carter?” she said carefully.

"John? I suppose I know him as well as I know anyone in the business, why?"

Kim put her fork on the table, leaned toward Wade, a serious expression on her face. “Liz and John seem to have hit it off pretty well, and I was just wondering what sort of man he is."

Wade frowned. “You're worried about
Liz
? She's a big girl now, Kim. Don't you think she can make her own decisions about men?"

"It's not that,” she protested.
Was it?
“It is this whole thing with the McCann house. John couldn't wait to get us over there to see the place and as soon as we had seen it and said we liked it, he started trying to talk us out of staying there. What I want to know is if we can trust him."

"I would trust him with my life, Kim. What you don't know about John is that he took trying to cleanse the spirits from that house seriously. When others failed, he moved in himself, certain he would be able to overcome whatever obstacles there were. He had a complete breakdown over that house. It changed his life, nearly ruined his career. He swore he would find someone who could
fix
the place, or else he would burn it to the ground."

"You mean it was the McCann place and
not
drinking that did that?"

Wade brought the steak and potatoes to the table, nodded. “That's right. He got his agent to tell the press it was a problem with drinking that put him in an institution for eight months. He was afraid if anyone knew it was all over the McCann mansion's unruly ghosts he would be labeled unstable and no one would want to work with him again."

Kim giggled despite herself.

"What, Kim?” Wade looked at her questioningly. He was being serious.

"It's like that saying, ‘Don't tell my mother I work in the oil field, she thinks I'm a piano player in a whorehouse.'” She giggled again. “I'm sorry, but it is."

"It is, rather, isn't it?” Wade grinned at her. He would never understand how her mind worked, no matter how long he knew her.

She was silent for a few moments, then spoke, “Wow.
Is he
mentally unstable?"

"The psychiatrists gave him a clean bill of health—and of course, told him to stay away from the house. But he has this agreement with Mrs. Tatum and he feels a great responsibility. He promised her he would make sure the spirits were put to rest at the mansion.” He thought a moment, “It seems he will do just that or die trying."

"Has John ever endangered anyone else?” she pushed her empty plate away from her.

Wade shook his head. “No, John has never been dangerous to anyone but himself. He became obsessed with the idea that he had to stay there, no matter what he saw or heard. It messed him up. He tried to kill himself twice because he thought there was a spirit trying to possess him. Said he thought the spirit was too dangerous to have a body to walk around in."

Kim rose from the table, paced the floor. “You're telling me he's suicidal, but not dangerous? Wade, that's a contradiction in terms. Any man who would try to kill himself wouldn't have any problem about trying to kill someone else."

"That was in the past. He has been stable for more than five years now. Look, he's a great guy. He had a tough time of it. Now he's better.” Wade stood and moved to her side in a few steps, reaching out to comfort her.

She pushed him away. “I'm sorry, Wade, but the things you told me haven't made me feel better."

Wade pulled her into his arms, held her there despite her protests until she stopped struggling. “Kim, darling, John would never hurt you or Liz. I would stake my life on it. He has had problems, but he's over that now. He knows what his limits are and he won't cross the line again. Trust me."

Kim relaxed a bit, but was still steeled against his embrace. “I can't shake the feeling he knows more than he's told us. I need to know what he's hiding."

Wade caressed her cheek, looked deep into her eyes, continued to hold her. “Don't you think it's enough he nearly lost his life over this place? What more do you think he's keeping from you? You know, maybe he doesn't trust you yet, any more than you trust him. Maybe you and he just need a little more time to get to know one another.” He moved his face close to hers.

Kim knew he was going to kiss her and she didn't want that. Or did she? She tried to relax, to accept the inevitable, but she wanted to run and hide. She wanted to push herself away from him and leave. She wanted to put her arms around his neck and lose herself in the moment. She closed her eyes as his lips brushed hers then settled in for a deep, passionate kiss.

She was floating on a dangerous tide of forgotten, yet all-too-familiar emotions. She didn't want to be hurt again. This time she had to keep her head, had to stay on top of the situation. She had to be the one calling the shots. His kiss burned against her skin, made her tingle all the way to her toes. This had happened once before with Wade and now she remembered how encompassing it had been. She had tried to deny it, to tell herself she felt no attraction for him, but just now she couldn't find one single argument strong enough to coax herself out of his arms.

She kissed him back then like a hungry tigress ready to devour her prey. This was crazy; this couldn't be happening, but here she was in Wade's cabin alone with him and wanting him desperately.
Don't cross this line
, she told herself, but she knew it was already too late; she was already putty in his hands. All he had to do was keep on kissing her this way and she would be done for before she could regain any of her better judgment.

She tried again to push him away, but they seemed glued together. An eternity passed and the feelings deepened until they swirled in her head like she was caught in the middle of a consuming vortex. Her heart pounded. Her breaths became ragged rasps; still he kissed her and she clung to him as though his kisses were all that could keep her alive. How could she have forgotten this feeling? This was the one that always got her into trouble and she had left herself open for it one more time. Two ex-husbands and an empty pit in her very soul later, she still couldn't pull herself out of this maelstrom of lust and need.

She abandoned her thoughts to her senses. She wouldn't think about it or try to fight it anymore. She would let Wade have whatever he wanted from her and later she would struggle again to pick up the shattered pieces of her heart, like she had done both times before. It would be the same as always; how could it be different? She didn't care. These feelings were all the reality that mattered to her right now.

"I love you, Kim.” he whispered between the kisses. “I want you to go with me to California; marry me. We will make it together. I know I can make you happy. Give me the chance, Honey. That's what I wanted to say to you before I leave. I want you with me."

Kim's head was clear in an instant. She pulled her lips away from him, aghast. Had she really heard what she had just heard? Marry for a third time? Outrageous! “Oh, Wade. I ... this is something I would have to think about for a long time. I couldn't accept this proposal right here and now. It just wouldn't work. Wade, please, let me go!"

Wade let his arms drop to his sides in bewilderment. “You were just kissing me as though you couldn't live without me and you can say no, just like that?"

She was as dumbfounded as he, but she knew she couldn't accept his proposal when her thinking was so clouded by passion. It wouldn't be fair to him or to her. “I don't have any reasoning behind my refusal. I don't even know that it
is
a refusal, at least not a permanent one. All I know is that I can't say yes today. I'm not ready. I can't make a commitment to you when I have just committed to helping with this house, and I don't have any idea how long that will take. I
have
to have time to think. Please don't be hurt or angry; I don't want that."

Wade rubbed his chin, stepped back from her a pace or two. “All right. I've been waiting for you ever since high school. I can wait longer if that's what you want. You think about it; think about it until you're certain. Just don't
forget
to think about it."

Kim frowned. Was that all? Subject closed? “Does this mean I'm dismissed?"

He took a deep breath, led her by the hand back to the table. “Don't be silly. You haven't had dessert. It's our favorite turtle cheesecake with that wonderful Ecuadorian roasted coffee you helped me discover. Besides, I'll be gone for several weeks and I want to spend as much time with you before I go as I can."

Kim sat again, though it made her all the more uncomfortable to do so. She wasn't the least bit hungry, not for food, but she made every effort to finish the meal he had prepared for her. This had been a narrow escape and she should be glad the kissing hadn't gone farther than it had. Yes, she should be glad. Why, then, did she feel so deflated and disappointed?

Liz had combed the hall for a lever, button, latch or anything that would open the wall to the mystery room across from the library, but found nothing. The crescent room had been simple compared to this one, or had it just been beginners luck? She sighed as her weary blue eyes swept the entire hall yet again. There must be something she had overlooked, but if it was there, it eluded her. Why couldn't she find it? It
had
to be there, or did it?

She closed the door to the back hall to the staircase and moved again into the entryway. Two hours had passed. She walked from the entrance, down the hallway, past the closets and into the back hall, combing the walls, searching for the hidden entrance to the first floor room that so captivated her mind. No luck. One positive thing had come from the search, however; a fine luster now adorned all the items on the walls. After a while, she had gone to get a soft cloth and had polished each picture frame as she moved it aside and searched the wall; each sconce with its beeswax candle as she moved her hands over the cold antiqued brass. She studied each item set on the small shelving units as she removed, investigated and replaced it and every tool and miniature decorative weapon hanging from a hook or ring mounted on the wall. Everything she touched, she noticed as she inspected each surface. It didn't get her anywhere, but at least she had a gleaming collection in the hallway leading up the stairs to her bedroom.

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of angry growls coming from down the hall. This time she hadn't even noticed the energy shift because she had been too rapt in thought. As she turned her attention toward the sound, she realized there had been another substantial change in her surroundings. Warm, glowing lanterns replaced the electric lights in the hallway as she approached the big gray cat crouched in the hall. Timothy seemed not to notice her, but continued to growl at some unseen enemy.

As she neared, the fluffy feline crept toward the normally closed door on the left of the entry hall leading to the front hall, but now the door was open. She wondered where her own two pets were, looked behind her and could see Spooky and Ghost standing in the distance as though they were separated from her by a gigantic chasm they were unable to bridge. They looked at her with what she interpreted as undisturbed curiosity. She started to follow Timothy and noticed several large muddy boot prints in the hall floor at the spot where she had first seen the cat crouching.
The recurrent muddy boot prints,
she thought, a strange feeling of foreboding snaking down her spine.
Spencer
. They were
his
boot prints, she could sense it.

She followed Timothy into the parlor. The cat hissed, moved toward the fireplace. Once inside the room, Liz saw two men struggling. Timothy leaped up and attacked the smaller man, who hurled the cat against the stone wall of the fireplace. Poor Timothy didn't move, but let out a low baleful yowl.

McCann dropped to his knees, reached for the cat. “Damn you, Spencer! I will kill you, you bastard."

Spencer made use of the momentary diversion the wounded cat afforded. In one swift movement, he picked up an andiron and smashed it along the side of McCann's face. McCann fell to the floor in a crumpled pile.

Spencer laughed, threw the iron poker to the floor. “I don't think so, Benjamin. You thought I didn't know about your vault, didn't you? You keep secrets very well. But I found out, see?” he reached for a smooth, irregular shaped stone by the mantle, and the floor of the fireplace opened. “Too bad, though, the vault is empty. I took the liberty of destroying your little air duct and also your escape lever."

He struggled as he pulled the weight of his bulky partner across the floor and into the fireplace, then shoved him into the hole. His laugh was vile as he picked up the wounded cat by the scruff of the neck, tossed him in on top of McCann. “Damn nasty tempered beast. You are as bad as your master. Well, now you can have each other for all time.” He took a handkerchief out of his pocket, wiped up the dribble of blood from the floor and the rock wall, then wiped off the poker and replaced it in the stand with the other andirons before he threw the stained cloth into the vault.