Storm Surge (19 page)

“We’re both worried about you,” said Liam.

“Dan doesn’t know me that well, so I doubt he’s worried except from a case standpoint. There’s a lunatic out there. For that matter, you don’t know me all that well, either.” Liam’s subtle change of expression brought instant remorse. “I’m sorry. I hurt and I’m cranky and I want to go home. None of which is any excuse for what I just said. Dan, I apologize to you, too. You both have gone above and beyond, and I appreciate it. I really do. But I want the doctor with the damned paperwork so I can get out of here.”

Paige caught another mute exchange out of the corner of her eye before Dan excused himself, saying he would check for the doctor. Liam sat on the bed beside her. He slipped both hands around her undamaged one and lifted her wrist onto his thigh.

“You do need to go home,” he said.

“Liam, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Don’t ever tolerate that from me.”

“You need to go home,” he repeated, “to Tennessee.”

Her stomach muscles tensed as if anticipating a blow. What he said made sense, was logical, and obviously discussed with Dan, if she read the last eye contact between them correctly. “I don’t want to.”

“I know you had a plan to find out about your father and mother, the life you left behind, but—”

“That’s not the only reason.” She tightened her fingers in his. “That is not the only reason I won’t leave.”

“You’re a very stubborn woman, Paige.”

“And I think you like that about me.”

“One of the things I like about you. One of the numerous things.” He kissed her, pulling her close, and she breathed an ouch into the hollow of his mouth, but she wouldn’t let him back away. After several moments she did, though, leaning her forehead against his chin.

“We’re going to have to be careful until you feel better. No acrobatics,” Liam murmured against the hair curling up from her loosened ponytail to snag in his stubbled beard. “And we’ll come up with a plan—a plan you need to stick to—to keep you safe.”

She nodded against him.

“I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you, Paige.”

She had been about to say “not your responsibility,” but she kept her sentiment to herself. Maybe, to some degree, it was his responsibility. Maybe his sense of duty, of accountability, fit in with her vague definition of what lovers should be to each other. And maybe she wanted that when she never really had it before.

Paige straightened at a short bout of throat-clearing near the door. She flinched at the movement, turning to find Dan watching them.

“Well?” he said.

Liam shook his head.

“Right. If you two weren’t clinging to each other like furry little littermates, you might have been able to convince her otherwise.”

Paige’s lips twisted at his comment, a surge of ridiculous affection expunging her earlier anger at the man.

Dan nodded. “I’m heading out. We’ll talk more on this subject over the next couple of days. Oh, and I have a visit planned to young Billy tomorrow. See what he has to say.”

Dan departed without fanfare. Paige could see the doctor through the doorway at the main desk and figured he’d be in any minute. “In Britain, they call what we were just doing ‘snogging,’ I believe.”

“Yes,” agreed Liam with a hint of laughter in his voice.

“I like the sounds of that. It’s homey and comforting and down-to-earth, somehow. Also, reminds me of food. I don’t know why.”

“All right. Snogging it is, then.”

“And lots of it. As soon as we’re somewhere not surrounded by Plexiglas panels.”

“Deal,” he said. The doctor came in and Liam rose from the bed. Paige took a deep breath, readying herself to fool the physician into believing she felt absolutely wonderful so she could get the hell out of the ER without argument.

Flipping the ring in her fingers, Paige found the key for the deadbolt and inserted it. She turned the brass to disengage the tumblers.

Liam’s hand fell across hers. “Hold on.”

Paige pulled back with a start, thinking Liam had spotted something amiss with the door, but when she looked up at him, she saw his attention drawn to the waterline, eyes narrowed. Paige followed his gaze and sucked in a breath.

“Is that what you’ve been seeing, down there by the water?” he questioned.

In the same unwavering pace she’d witnessed before, the man with the lantern dangling at his side moved beside the surf. With the exception of certain details, portions of his body appeared almost translucent.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“And it’s not the same guy who—”

“No.”

“Good to know. It’s not who I thought you might be seeing, either.”

“And who might that have been?”

“A neighbor,” he answered with a dismissive shrug.

“So all that blather about ghosts and mirages was…?”

“Not blather.”

Paige frowned. Her head had started to hurt along the route home. The doctor had checked for signs of concussion, but she hadn’t hit her head. Not directly, although the back of her skull had come into brief contact with the fence after the rest of her body slammed into it. The dull ache was probably the aftermath of adrenaline flooding her veins. Driving had been difficult, but she hadn’t wanted to leave her car in town. Liam had to satisfy himself with following close behind in the Jeep. When they arrived, they’d found an officer in a patrol car stationed on the shoulder across the road and had been informed, in no uncertain terms, that he, or someone else from the department, would be there all night.

With a sigh, Paige removed the keys from the door. “Since we’ve got a patrol car right out front, it’s probably safe for us to go down and check.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Seriously, let’s go.” Paige limped forward a little, then paused when she realized Liam was hanging back.

“You don’t need to be walking down that hill,” he said. “Let’s just go inside.”

“Why don’t we stand here a few minutes? We’ll see if he disappears or comes close enough for us to know for sure.” She went back to Liam and fit herself under his arm. After several seconds she found herself leaning all her weight against him in order to release the pressure off her left side. He slid his hand beneath the curve of her arm in support.

“There’s a legend I’ve written about in several iterations, but I’ve never seen the apparition others have spoken of. Do I think this might be it? I don’t know. Normally, spirits don’t appear with such clarity or frequency. Do I want to find out? Sure, I do. But staying here is a better option than lugging you down to that beach and back.”

She smiled against soft fabric, breathing him in. She loved his scent. It was like both balm and aphrodisiac. She wondered on an exhausted tangent if there was some way to bottle the stuff.

“What is it?” she asked. “The legend, I mean.” Pressing against him, she watched the floating light. Prior to the occurrence at the nature preserve and her injuries, she would have bolted down to the beach to prove Liam wrong with all his ghost stories, but since then…

“An old seaman lost his daughter at sea and reportedly walks the beach at night hoping for some sign of her washed upon the shore,” Liam said.

“Good God, that’s a terrible story.”

“I don’t make them up. I just write them down. But he’s rather solid, isn’t he?”

Paige tightened her fist, the keys biting into her palm. “He’s been pretty solid to me every time.”

Another glow caught her eye, appearing close to the top of the jetty. “Look. Over by the rocks.” Liam’s body stiffened against hers, the muscles in the arm across her back like whipcord. As a light bounced over the rocks and onto the beach—clearly a flashlight held in someone’s hand and not a lantern’s glow—he muttered under his breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said.

“I know you don’t like trespassers.”

“I don’t.”

Paige stood immobile as a sense of déjà vu overwhelmed her. Had she witnessed something similar long ago? Probably. She’d lived in the house next door for thirteen years. People coming down to the beach uninvited wouldn’t be anything new. Yet her gaze kept drifting to the tide beyond the lantern’s glow and the approach of what appeared to be two people with a flashlight. To the place where she’d seen the gulls her first night back in Alcina Cove, and the memory, just out of reach…

Mom, what is that?

Sweetheart, don’t. It’s nothing.

Mom, no, I can see—

Come away. We shouldn’t be here.

She saw again the mounded kelp and stone, the image of a body in her mind’s eye, the flash of starlight…or was it metal?

“Paige, are you all right?”

Liam was suddenly in full support of her sagging body. In one fluid motion, he scooped her up into his arms. She wrapped her hands behind his neck, poking him in the ear.

“Sorry.”

“Sh, let’s get you inside.”

“Wait. Liam, look!”

The two figures with the flashlight strode in a direct line over the sand toward the man with the lantern. As Paige watched, they converged with him and tramped straight through without pause, as if nothing existed there. An instant later, the lantern and the form holding it blinked out of existence. Liam’s breath rushed out in audible release.

“You did see that, too, right?”

He nodded against the side of her head. “I did.”

Carrying on the wind, laughter reached Paige and Liam where they stood. A couple strode hand in hand, nearly lost against the water but for the gaily swinging flashlight between them. Trying for humor, Paige elbowed Liam’s arm. “Aren’t you going to run down there and chase them off?”

“Nope.”

“Maybe we should find out what they saw?”

“Obviously,” said Liam, turning his back on the ocean and the now frolicking couple, “they saw nothing.”

Paige wrinkled her brow. To Paige, this incident had been less frightening than the occurrence within the circle of stone. The comparatively small frisson of trepidation she felt now mingled with strange excitement. An exhilaration Liam didn’t appear to feel. Liam, the man who made a living—of sorts, as he had said—writing about the supernatural acted more uneasy than elated, a reaction she would not have expected from him. After the night they’d both had, his uneasiness was catching. She had the key to the door ready in her fingers as he carried her back to the cottage

* * * *

Liam lit the burner beneath the battered teapot to make Paige some tea. Shock’s aftermath had reared its ugly head. Paige lay on the bed curled in a tight ball, an ice bag lodged against the ugly black bruise on her hip. He’d given her two aspirin and tried to convince her to let him fill the prescription the emergency room doctor had written, but she’d refused. Searching the metal cabinets above the counter for the box of tea supposedly inside, he eventually located a nearly empty container of chamomile and prepared a cup once the kettle whistled. He carried the mug on a plate with a couple of cream-filled cookies beside it.

“You’re a very nice man, Liam Gray,” she said as she rolled a little to reach for a cookie. He set the plate on the nightstand and sat with care on the mattress so he wouldn’t jostle her.

“Not really.”

“Don’t argue with a sick lady.”

“You’re not sick. You are, however—”

“Extremely foolish? I know.”

“Not foolish,” he corrected. “Reckless, though, I will admit.”

“Yeah, I got that memo tonight. In boldface type.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear. She’d ripped the hair band out and tossed it on the counter as soon as he carried her in the door, but the elastic had bounced off into a corner somewhere. “You might have been seriously hurt, worse than you are now. What stopped him, do you know? Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful to whatever caused him to run, but I know the officer at the barrier said the bastard was already gone by the time he got to you.”

Paige shook her head. “I heard—well, felt, really—footsteps on the ground, running toward us. I don’t have a real clear recollection of much after that until the ambulance came. It was probably the Marine Patrol guy at the barrier. He just didn’t get there in time to catch him.”

Liam nodded. “Do you—do you mind if I get into bed with you? I want to hold you. That’s all. Nothing else.”

Scooting closer to the edge of the mattress, Paige made room for him to climb over and stretch out behind her. He reached for the crumpled blanket and spread it across both their bodies before circling her with one arm, pressing as near as he dared with her injured hip. “Let me know when you want that tea. I’ll help you.”

“Maybe later. I don’t mind cold tea. For now, I think lying here like this is good.”

He kissed her shoulder blade through a shirt much stained from her battle, then lowered his head onto his folded arm on the pillow.

“If I felt better…” she mumbled.

“I know.”

“At least you got to see the ghost on the beach. That’s got to be one thrill for the night.”

“Sure.”

“You don’t sound thrilled.”

“You’ve seen one ghost, you’ve seen them all.”

“Liam.”

“What about you? You’re not even scared.”

She was quiet so long he thought she’d dozed off, but then she stirred. “People are far scarier than something that goes bump in the night.”

He felt like he’d been stabbed, eviscerated, left to bleed in a silent agony of guilt. “Paige, if I’d known, I wouldn’t have left you. I should have—”

“Liam, stop—”

“I should have been there.”

“Liam, this isn’t the same. I’m not your wife, your daughter. And even that wasn’t your fault.”

“But instead of staying with you, I ran off to rescue someone else. Someone who didn’t need rescuing, but even so—”

“Helping people appears to be your nature. Don’t condemn yourself for that. I’m sure tonight was hard for you and I’m, well, I’m proud of you.”

Liam said nothing. His heart swelled with gratitude.

“Besides, half of what happened was my fault. More than half. I got out of the Jeep at the dock. I lost it and jumped on the bastard.”

“You did do that, didn’t you?” Liam smiled. “God, Paige, you are…are…”