That Thing You Do (Whispering Bay Romance Book 1) (Volume 1) (22 page)

“People don’t change, Allie. Once a cheater, always a cheater.”

She wanted
to say that Tom had never cheated on her. That he and Lauren had gotten pregnant before Allie and Tom had ever gone out. She
wanted
to say that. But she couldn’t. Not with any certainty because she’d never asked.
Because she’d never wanted to know
. After all this time, did it even make a difference?  

“You changed,” she pointed out.

“I was never a cheater.”

Now it was Allie’s
turn to glare at her brother.

“Okay, so maybe I slept around, but that’s when I was young and stupid. Once I laid eyes on Mimi there was never anyone else.”

The way Zeke said that made Allie’s shoulders relax. She was tempted to ask her brother about the couples counseling, but since he didn’t seem likely to bring it up himself she was hesitant to break Mimi’s confidence. Not that
Allie had suspected her brother of being unfaithful, but it was good to know that cheating wasn’t one of the issues her brother and his wife needed to work through.

“I don’t know how or what I can do to make you stop hating on Tom, except to tell you I’m not getting together with him. Now or ever. Once I have this story, I’m out of here.”

“You mean, once you get your license back.”

“That, too.”

They both heard the truck pull up into the driveway. No sense in making Tom get out of his truck to knock on the door. Especially when it would mean running into Zeke. The last thing Allie wanted was another confrontation between them. She grabbed her jean jacket.

“See you later,” she said. “I’m off to my first séance.”

“Hold on,” Zeke said. He laid the paper
down on the table. “I know I don’t say it enough, but, you do know I love you, right?”

“Aw, I love you, too.”

She thought he might grin at that, but instead he looked troubled. Like he had something big on his mind. “Just don’t…Donalan’s not a bad guy. But he’s not the right guy for you. You deserve someone who’s going to put you first, and he’s already proven that he’s not going to
do that.”

“I—” Allie gulped. “I hear what you’re saying.”

T
he drive over was
chillingly polite. On both their parts. Tom hadn’t said more than two sentences combined when they pulled into the senior center’s empty parking lot. Best to clear the air between them now, in private, before Phoebe and Madame Gloria and the rest of her gang got here.

“So…about last night,” she began.

He gave her a look that said he’d been expecting this and
wasn’t looking forward to it. “Why do women always want to talk about sex?”

“What? And men don’t?”

“Men want to have sex. Not analyze it,” he snapped.

“Boy, someone woke up on the wrong side of the inflatable mattress this morning.” She thought he might smile at that, but he didn’t. “Okay, well, I just wanted to say that last night was… nice, but obviously it’s never going to
happen again, and I’m glad we’re able to move past it like rational adults.”

“Nice, huh?”

“Well, yes, it was…
very nice
.”

He snorted. “Admit it. It was the best damn sex of your life.”

Allie felt herself flush. He wasn’t supposed to challenge her on this. He was supposed to slink his tail between his legs and go off like a good puppy dog.

“
Wow
. Someone has a big ego.
Is that why you’re pouting? You’re upset because afterward I didn’t fall on my knees and profess my undying love to the great Tom Donalan?”

He turned to face her. “Let me rephrase that. It started out to be the best damn sex of
my
life. So whatever you want to tell yourself, however you need to rationalize it, go right ahead, but I’m not going to trivialize it. Last night was important to
me.” He shook his head. “I’m old enough to know that the reality shouldn’t have been as good as the fantasy. But you know what? It was a thousand times better. So for me, last night was pretty fucking fantastic. Well, except for the part when you told me to shut up and that it didn’t mean anything to you. But otherwise? It was A plus. And if it wasn’t that way for you, I don’t want to hear it.”

He’d fantasized about her
? She tried to think of something to say, but her throat felt like the Gobi desert.

“So you want to move past last night?” he continued.

“Of course,” she squeaked.

“Right. Just like we’ve gotten past what happened twelve years ago?”

“I thought we already had this conversation three nights ago.”

“No, you had this conversation. I listened.”

It was true. She’d hadn’t really let him get much in. But what was the point of hashing out the events of twelve years ago? “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“You’re the one who brought up last night. I figured now was as good a time to bring it all up.” His voice went quiet. “No matter what I do, I don’t stand a chance with you, do I?”

The blaring lights of a car turning into
the parking lot made them both look away. It was quickly followed by another car that parked alongside it. Phoebe and Roger Van Cleave got out of the first car. Roger spotted them and waved.

A reprieve!

“Looks like the gang’s all here.” Allie reached for the truck door but before she could make her escape, Tom leaned over and blocked her from opening it.

“We’re not done yet.”

“But we can’t keep everyone waiting.” She hated the shakiness in her voice.

“As long as you know that before you leave town, you and I are finishing this conversation. My way.”

*~*~*

A
llie had never seen
a medium before, but Madame Gloria was nothing like she expected. She had to admit, a Whoopi look-alike would have been comforting, but she would have settled for someone
with white hair and a turban. And a Russian accent. Yes, a foreign accent would have been impressive. Instead, Madame Gloria was maybe mid-thirties with long blonde hair and a cross and skull bones tattooed over her right bicep. Despite the chill in the air, she wore a flowery skirt with a tank top and Birkenstocks. At least a dozen thin gold bracelets dangled from each of her wrists.

Besides
Allie and Tom and Phoebe and Roger, Viola Pantini and Gus Pappas were also present. Allie was glad to see Viola and Gus. If anyone deserved to be at tonight’s séance, they did, considering that they’d spent so much time in the senior center. Allie wondered what they’d had to do to get on Phoebe’s illustrious guest list. More than likely Roger (who Allie was still ninety-nine percent certain
wasn’t Concerned Citizen) had talked his sister into including them.

Madame Gloria clapped her hands to get their attentions. “Before we begin. I need to make sure that everyone present is a true believer. Any negative vibrations will only frighten our spiritual visitor. We want to create a loving, positive environment conducive to free flow communication.”

Everyone began mumbling
at once. Even Tom nodded his “belief” although Allie knew he was just faking it to get things going.

“Sure, sure,” Gus said. “I believe in the dead coming back.”

Madame Gloria’s face twisted. “I’ve found the word ‘dead’ has a negative connation. I prefer the term ‘non-living.’”

Non-living sounded pretty negative to Allie, too, but she wasn’t about to disagree with a professional
like Madame Gloria. Not when she wanted to get on her good side. After the séance, she was hoping Gloria would agree to an interview.

Allie gave a thumbs up. “Non-living. Got it.”

“Excellent.” Madame Gloria waved a hand in the air with a flourish, exposing a small tuft of hair beneath her underarm. “Now, if everyone will kindly turn off any unnecessary electronic devices, we can all
take a seat.”

A sturdy looking card table (as previously specified by Phoebe) had been set up in the middle of the room surrounded by seven folding chairs. No flowing tablecloth to hide anything under or burning candles to provide the expected ambiance. A trio of kerosene lamps stationed on the floor around the table provided the room’s only illumination. Roger set up his video camera, then
took the seat next to Allie. Phoebe sat to her other side with Tom directly across the table.

Madame Gloria made a point of making eye contact with each of them. “Shall we all hold hands?” Allie reached out to Roger and Phoebe. Roger’s hand felt warm and secure in her grasp, as opposed to Phoebe’s clammy grip. For several long minutes nothing happened. Allie waited for Madame Gloria to begin
chanting or to say something, but she didn’t.

She glanced over to find Madame Gloria frowning. “Someone has been inside this building. And he or she has left a very disturbing aura behind.”

Allie’s gaze immediately darted to Tom. Could Madame Gloria “see” what they’d done last night? The thought of it nearly gave Allie a heart attack. But Tom looked more amused than worried, which
helped her relax. Of course Madame Gloria couldn’t know about last night! She was a medium, not a psychic. Although…they weren’t the same thing, were they? Allie was still confused about that.

Gloria narrowed her eyes at Phoebe. “I thought you’d know that the building’s integrity was to be maintained.”

Phoebe’s voice went frosty. “I can assure you, I left explicit instructions that
the building was to be left empty for twenty-four hours. I’m not an amateur, you know.”  

“Nevertheless, I know what I feel.”

“Maybe this disturbing aura you’re feeling is just the ghost,” Tom said mildly.

Allie forced herself not to look at him.

“Perhaps.” Madame Gloria puckered her lips in distaste. “Or perhaps not.”

“Maybe if you describe this feeling, we can help.”
Viola nodded toward Gus. “We spent a lot of time inside this building.”

“Very well. I’ll try to articulate what I’m sensing.” Madame Gloria closed her eyes and began swaying.

This was more like it. Allie closed her eyes as well and tried to concentrate. A vision of Tom staring down at her as he slowly rocked inside her popped into her head.
Oops
. Nope. Don’t concentrate on that.

Last night was important to me
.

“Yeah, right,” she muttered. What a line!

Phoebe’s grip on her hand tightened. “Hush!” she admonished Allie.

“Sorry,” Allie whispered.

Okay, concentrate
. She’d think about the dead—
no
—the non-living entity they were trying to communicate with.

“I sense a great disturbance in the force,” Gloria announced.

Oh, Madame Gloria
did not just go there.

Allie didn’t have to look at Tom to know what he was thinking. Because she was thinking it, too. Madame Gloria was a quack. How very…disappointing. She mentally sighed. She could still write the article. She’d just have to put the emphasis on the novelty behind the séance, not its actual authenticity.

“It’s passion,” Madame Gloria said. “The disturbance involves
a great deal of passion.”

“Like a murder?” Phoebe sounded as excited as a Chihuahua on crack.

“Perhaps. But…no, I don’t think so.” Allie could have told them there hadn’t been a murder in the senior center. But she kept her mouth shut.

As long as you know that before you leave town, you and I are finishing this conversation. My way.

What did that mean anyway?
His way
? Who
did he think he was? Frank Sinatra?

Madame Gloria made a tsking sound. “This is a different sort of passion. One that had been long denied. And only very
recently
satisfied.”

Allie’s eyes flew open to find Tom staring at her. She shut her eyes again.
Coincidence
. Madame Gloria’s choice of words were just a coincidence.

“I sense a huge range of emotions here,” Madame Gloria continued,
her voice rising with enthusiasm. “Betrayal, sadness, anger and…something else.”

“Like what?” Gus asked.

Roger leaned forward in his chair. “Yeah, like what?”

“A release. A
very
great release. Right here in this exact same spot.”

Okay, this was getting voyeuristically creepy. The table had been set up in the same spot where the air mattress had been last night. Allie peeked
around the room. No one was looking at her, except Tom, but Allie refused to make eye contact with him. Her palms began to dampen. She tried to pull her hand out of Phoebe’s to wipe off some of the moisture, but Phoebe’s bony fingers had her in a death grip.

Madame Gloria shifted in her chair, causing her bracelets to jangle against one another. “Perhaps if I concentrate a bit more. Let’s
start again. Everyone must clear their minds and focus. The more communal energy we create the harder it will be for the spirit to resist us. And this time, no talking,” she instructed. “All this input is only confusing the spirit. My voice must be the only one he or she hears.”

The room went silent. Allie could hear the wind rustling over the building and the occasional sound of a car engine
in the distance. She tried her hardest to focus like Madame Gloria urged.

Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?
Tom’s silky voice whispered in her ear. Allie’s eyes flew open. No one had spoken. It was just her imagination. She tried to swat the memory of last night from her mind the way she’d do with some pesky fly.
Concentrate, Allie
. Think of…the warm smell. Only that made her
think of Jean Nate, which led her back to Buela.

“Maybe if you ask the ghost a question, he’ll answer,” Phoebe said.

“Who’s the medium here?” Madame Gloria demanded.

Phoebe looked as if she’d just been struck. “Why, you of course.”

“Then kindly allow me to direct this séance in the proper fashion. Which means no talking.”

 Phoebe lowered her eyes and nodded.

 Allie almost felt sorry for Phoebe, except wasn’t she the one who had bragged how Madame Gloria was the best medium in the business?

A few more minutes went by. No one dared utter a peep.

“I’m getting something,” Madame Gloria said. “It’s coming back. The same feeling I had before. Great emotion. In this very spot.”

Allie tried to ignore everything else and concentrate as hard
as she could.
Lemons
. Could she smell them? She inhaled deeply. No. No lemons. No Jean Nate. No nothing.

A faint sound interrupted Allie’s thoughts. She recognized it instantly because she’d heard just a few nights ago. It was the sound of crunching gravel. Ghosts didn’t walk on gravel. Only something alive could make that noise.

More gravel crunching. Followed by what sounded suspiciously
like giggling. Allie began to get a very bad vibe.

“I’m sensing conflict,” Madame Gloria announced, oblivious to the noise. “Conflict of a very dark nature.”

That’s when the music began. Softly at first. And then the melody rose and before Allie knew it, a full blown version of Jim Morrison and The Doors singing
Light My Fire
was blasting away in her ear drum.

Oh no. Not again
. It had to be a hallucination. Like thinking just a few minutes ago that she’d heard Tom whisper in her ear.

She scanned the table. Madame Gloria had her eyes closed and was swaying slightly from side to side as if she were in a trance. Viola and Gus seemed fascinated by Gloria’s movements. Phoebe’s eyes were shut tight and Roger looked as if he’d won the lottery. Tom, on the other hand,
was still staring at her. Only now he was frowning, as if he found something suddenly strange. Could he hear the music, too?