The Edge of Recall (26 page)

“The old Baldwin private collection. It was donated to the Methodist church down the way and fills the old rectory. Volunteers have catalogued and made the books available to the locals. Locals have added to the collection over the years. And some have added the books to theirs. Like I said, I’ll give you a ride.”

Nan had obviously noted her car absent from the lot. And of course she’d seen Smith leave last night, and the manner in which he’d taken his leave. In no time the mini-mart clerk would know she had a thing with that handsome architect. But she might learn something useful.

“All right. Thanks.” She’d grab some yogurt at the mini-mart and go do a little research. As they drove she called and asked Smith to wait an hour or so before picking her up.

“Yes, all right, Tess.” He seemed abrupt, but then, she could be reading into it. Maybe she’d interrupted him, or Bair was nearby. Bair, who thought Smith wasn’t over Danae, whose cousin had tried to heal his broken heart, who had looked truly concerned when he’d seen them kissing.

Smith had not picked up on that, but she’d seen the expression on Bair’s face. She’d talk to him today, let him know she and Smith were all right and he didn’t have to worry. Funny what a sweet friend he’d become. She was no longer outside their circle. They’d invited her in.

But Smith’s tone had not been inviting. He might regret opening up the way he had. That was hard for lots of guys. They’d come into the group and become human clams for the rest of them to peck at. For some, it was about wresting control from the facilitator. For others, a last defense.

Smith had said he could see spending his life with her. He didn’t know how pervasive her issues were, how much of her reality had been shaped by her therapy. Her peers had been people who couldn’t cope—like her. Dr. Brenner said she wouldn’t have a successful relationship until she’d figured herself out. She didn’t seem to have the facility.

Smith didn’t like her talking about him to the psychiatrist. She got that. But thinking Dr. Brenner could be holding her back, keeping her dependent—that was wrong. He wanted to help; she knew it. He cared about her.

Nan brought her to the mini-mart and, while Tessa chose a peach yogurt from the cooler case, convinced the clerk her guest could be a ghost whisperer. Tessa adamantly denied it, which seemed to only confirm the sort of humility that could draw a wandering soul. Nan had been the one to turn her questions to the supernatural, and she seemed determined to believe it.

Tessa resisted it still, though she had thought she’d seen something. Smith had been the first to mention hauntings; Bair called it a poltergeist. None of them had found a camp or lodging anywhere near the property, yet someone had moved the level and the gate.

That reminded her she needed to find out where Bair had taken it for repair. As Nan and the clerk continued their discussion, Tessa slipped out her phone and called the office number. Smith answered, “Chandler Architecture.”

“Oh, I called this number looking for Bair.”

“Sorry, Tess. He’s gone back to the main office in D.C.”

“Again?”

“He’s going to handle things there for a while.”

“Oh. Well, let me have his cell. I want to know where he took the gate.”

“I’ll find out for you.”

“That’s okay. Just give me the number.” Did she imagine the reluctance with which he complied? She jotted it on her palm, then stepped out of the mini-mart and phoned Bair. “Good morning, Bair. I’m looking for my—” She halted at the sight of the Land Rover outside of Ellie’s. “I thought you were back at the office.”

“I’m on my way. I stopped for, um, breakfast before leaving.”

“Then I’ll just duck in and ask you.” She crossed the distance between Ellie’s and the mini-mart.

“Ask me what?”

As she hung up and pulled open the door to Ellie’s, Bair almost barreled into her in the foyer, with Katy held fast by the wrist.

Tessa stepped back. “Where’s the fire?”

Bair flushed. “We were … leaving.”

“Katy’s going with you?” Her surprised remark earned a glare from the mutinous redhead.

Bair pushed his keys into Katy’s hand. “Go ahead. I’ll … um … be just a moment.”

When the door slapped shut behind Katy, Tessa turned back. “What’s wrong? Why are you guys flying out of here like—”

“Ellie’s going to be a bit shorthanded, that’s all.”

“But I thought you couldn’t be alone with Katy.”

His face heated with anger. “Did Smith say that?”

“I must have misunderstood. How long will you be gone?”

“Some time, I’d say.”

“Are you all right?”

“Chuffed.” He looked anything but pleased. “Well … I have Katy waiting.” He pushed through the doors. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Warn her … What had he—about Smith? Had they fallen out over yesterday? She pushed through the door as Bair hit the gas and backed out in one fell swoop, then tore away with tires ablaze. She stood with hands to her hips and watched them go.

She realized she hadn’t found out about the gate, but she wasn’t going to call him now. She’d deal with that later, or let Smith. Smith. She wrung her hands. Bair had been the anchor, the friend she’d counted on to buffer her and Smith. With no third party, their relationship would have to stand on its own.

No longer hungry, she slipped the yogurt cup into her purse and walked along the side road toward the red brick neoclassical church and rectory. Pigeons strolled the ridges of the steep gray roofs. She crossed the dewy lawn and rang the bell at the side door as Nan had instructed on their drive over.

The soft-faced woman who opened the door hardly came to Tessa’s chin. “Yes?”

“Hi, I’m Tessa Young.”

“Oh, the architect. Nan Duncat called. I’m Joliet.” She looked like someone’s ebony-skinned fairy godmother.

“Hi. Nan sent me over to read the local ghost stories, especially the newest one.”

“Our night prowler.”

“Prowler. Then he’s not a ghost.” Of course he wasn’t. She knew that.

Joliet shrugged. “I don’t know how he gets through locked and alarmed doors. Seems a little more substantial to me, though.”

“You’ve seen him?”

“Only the books he’s borrowed.”

“He checks books out from the library?”

The little woman cast her a wry look. “He hasn’t signed his name or checked anything back in.” She led the way to a back section and drew several booklets from the shelf. “Maybe he is a ghost. You can draw your own conclusions.”

Tessa thanked her, and then a thought struck her. “While I look at these, could you see whether you have anything related to a Jesuit plantation monastery called St. John’s?”

Without hesitation, she said, “We did have. But those documents were purchased.”

“Really. By whom?”

“He remained anonymous, but paid enough to replace our roof and more.”

“I see.” So that was how Rumer Gaston had come to possess the only documents she’d found so far. “Do you know what happened to the residents after the monastery burned?”

“No. But it wasn’t a good time for priests. You haven’t dug up any skeletons, have you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Don’t be so sure you won’t. Up in Annapolis they discovered a poor indentured servant in William Fuller’s cellar. I saw it on a history show. At first they thought it might be one of the prisoners his bunch were executing in the streets during the Battle of the Severn. But it turned out to be an ill, overworked youth, thrown down there with the garbage.” She shook her head sadly. “If you’re seeing ghosts, it might be that more perished in the fire than the monastery.”

Tessa couldn’t resist a shudder. “I haven’t seen any ghosts.”

“I don’t believe in them myself.” Joliet touched the booklets. “But there are plenty who do. Especially this particular one.”

“Well, thanks.” Tessa took the ghost booklets written by several county citizens over to a small table near the window.

Her throat squeezed when the first one chronicled sightings of a pale form moving through the darkness as if searching for something or someone. She couldn’t say she had actually
seen
a pale form in her room. She could have dreamed or imagined it. The writer claimed to have glimpsed it more than once in the twilit woods around their farm, but had never gotten close enough for a more thorough examination.

Her pulse quickened when the next booklet described the odor the author had noticed when the ghost had been in her kitchen. She went on to say that apparitions were frequently accompanied by the smell of sulfur or smoke, but that this one left more of a moldy body odor behind. She had asked Nan if it could be a gas leak, but moldy body odor better described the rank aroma.

The most absurd account mentioned an affinity for animals and the ability to move and behave like one, especially loping with the gait of a wolf, though it ran erect. He too mentioned an odor, described it as gamey, and found it most remarkable that dogs didn’t bark or raise their hackles as with other supernatural sightings. That writer believed the creature a wolf man, though there was no evidence of fur.

Tessa shut the booklet. This was ridiculous. Plus it distracted her from the real monster she needed to contain—even if he existed only in her head. She slid the items back into the shelf and thanked Joliet, then slipped out her phone and dialed Smith.

A short while later, he pulled up. “I thought you might be up for breakfast. Since Bair took the company car, we’ll have to stick together.”

“What happened with you two?”

“Why do you ask?” His smooth composure didn’t fool her.

“Bair looked like fury as he dragged Katy off.”

Smith jerked his head. “Bair took Katy?”

“I don’t think Ellie was happy.”

He released a hard breath. “Mind if we eat there?”

“As long as you tell me what’s going on.”

Smith pulled up to Ellie’s. “Bair’s brassed off because … well … he doesn’t like the way I …” He rubbed his hands down his face.

“Shave?”

Smith slanted her a glare. “He thinks I lied about our relationship and allowed him to grow fonder of you than he would have.”

“Me?” She almost yelped it.

“Yes, you.”

“Then why did he snatch Katy?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve got to go inside and do damage control.”

Her head reeled. Bair had feelings for her? “I don’t believe it. You must be mistaken.”

“Tessa, today I could be a complete mug. But it’s out of his own mouth.”

And words didn’t come lightly from Bair’s mouth. She followed Smith into Ellie’s, feeling responsible in a whole new way.

Ellie greeted them in the foyer, more flushed and flustered than angry, it seemed.

Smith apologized for Bair. “I didn’t realize they’d be leaving together. I sincerely hope he’ll treat your granddaughter respectfully.”

Respectful didn’t exactly describe what she’d seen. On either of them.

Ellie sighed. “I’m more concerned about Katy’s behavior. That girl’s been looking at this county over her shoulder for years.” Ellie arched a brow. “Your friend might find himself canoodled.”

Gauging by her expression that morning, Katy would not let anything interfere with her plans. And if Bair was smarting, he’d be more susceptible than ever. Tessa glanced at Smith, then back to Ellie. “How old is she?”

“Nineteen. And off to regions hither and yon.” Ellie spread out her hands.

Legal age, thank God. Katy’s determination to get out of town probably trumped any true affection for Bair, but he wasn’t robbing the cradle. Katy only seemed like an adolescent. Tessa pictured him eating pastrami day after day because he didn’t want to say he didn’t like it. Her heart ached.

Smith repeated his apology, and it struck her how much responsibility he bore for others. Warmth seeped past her angst. The feelings were coming fast and strong.

“It’s Katy’s own doing.” Ellie showed them to a table and shook her head. “Since she dropped her shift, I’ll take your order. Do you know what you want?”

Smith ordered the vegetarian omelet.

“Just the fruit plate, please.” She wasn’t sure she could eat even that.

“I’ll have to put a help sign in the window.” Ellie walked away, sighing.

Tessa leaned in. “Smith, this is bad.”

He nodded grimly. “I should have seen it coming.”

“How could you?”

He shot his gaze across to her. “I know the effect you have on me. Why should I think him immune?”

She groaned. “I feel terrible. How could we not realize?”

“Bair’s not exactly demonstrative.” He pressed his hands to his eyes. “And I was too busy figuring myself out.”

“Have you?”

He released a sigh. “Not quite. You?”

“Not even close. But there’s a chance I’m not seeing things, at least things that aren’t there.”

“Such as?”

She flicked him a glance. “The monster in my room.”

“Did it happen again?”

“I slept through it last night. But this morning I smelled him.”

“You … what?”

She folded her hands. “It seems he leaves an unusual odor. Have you noticed it?”

“If you mean the prankster, the only odor I noticed was when he marked our doorstep as his territory. But what was he doing in your room? And how did he get there?”

“Since he’s a ghost, he obviously came through the walls.”

“Be serious, Tessa.”

“I am. There are at least six accounts in the library of a pale night prowler that smells like the grave. Nan’s delighted the ghost finally found her inn. She’s hoping he’ll haunt it regularly.”

Smith frowned. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish I were.”

“Our prankster is known as some sort of ghoul?”

“Well, one called him a wolf man.” She thanked Ellie for the tea that poured steaming into her cup and the plate of fresh-cut fruit.

“This looks wonderful.” Smith’s smile brought a hint of pink to Ellie’s cheeks, but he sobered again when she left. “Wolf man?”

“The point is, people have seen him. And a while back I saw something in the woods that matched their descriptions.”

“You never told me.”

“You thought I was crazy enough.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Tess. I think there’s an explanation for everything.”