CHAPTER NINE
SEATED ON THE SOFA IN THE LIVING ROOM OF THE SUITE, EVE READ Ran’s intentions in his compelling blue eyes. “You can’t be thinking I should open up the wall.”
“The cellar would become part of our investigation,” Ran said mildly. “Paranormal Investigations would take care of any costs incurred.”
Eve mentally went over the events of last night, the eerie sounds, the angry voices. The rush of running feet. “You really think the footsteps we heard were coming up from the cellar?”
“We can replay the audio, but it sounded very much like multiple small feet running up or down a set of stairs.”
That was exactly the way it sounded. Eve had thought that the first time she’d heard the noise several weeks ago.
She looked at Zane. “You didn’t . . . find any connection to children who might have lived in the first house, the Warrington house? Or had a connection to the tavern?”
“Not so far,” Zane said. “No one was killed in the fire at The Pelican, at least there was nothing mentioned that I could find. I can go into some of the Warrington family genealogy, check out Maitland, and dig into early St. Clair family history. One thing about the Brits. They keep records that go back hundreds of years.”
“First, we need to know if the cellar is still there.” Ran turned his attention to Eve, pinning her with those penetrating eyes. “What do you say? You were probably planning to do a little remodeling sooner or later. How does new paint and wallpaper sound?” He smiled. “Say yes and we’ll pay to paint and paper the whole downstairs.”
She had told him she couldn’t afford to make another move and start over again. She intended to stay, which Ran must have remembered. He was a billionaire. He could afford it. Still . . .
“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “It’s too much. Besides, I’m the one who contacted you.”
“Researching paranormal activity is why we’re here. You would be doing us a favor.” He sat up straighter, making him look even taller and broader. “What do you say?”
His offer was a more than fair offer, and in truth, she wanted to see what was behind the once-forbidden door. “Fine. You can open up the wall. If the old cellar is really down there, maybe we’ll get some answers.”
Ran nodded. “Great. I’ll call Connie. She’s the team coordinator. I’ll have her line up a contractor to repair the damages after we’re finished. In the meantime, Jesse and I can handle the demolition.”
Eve could almost feel her eyebrows climbing. “You’re going to . . . what? Personally take a sledgehammer to my wall?”
A wide smile broke over his face. “You don’t think I’ve ever done any physical labor? I put myself through college working on a construction crew.”
My God, that smile. Unlike any she had seen from him before, it made him even more handsome. Her attraction climbed a notch.
She shrugged. “I just thought . . .”
“I know what you thought.”
Her defenses went up. “Actually, from what I read, you went to Stanford on a full scholarship. Started a year early out of high school and graduated in three years instead of four.”
One of his black eyebrows arched. “You’ve done your homework.”
Eve made no reply. She refused to apologize for being careful.
“The scholarship paid my tuition, but there were living expenses, and car payments to make, and I valued my independence. I took the minimum. I didn’t want to be indebted.”
The information didn’t surprise her. Everything about Ransom King spoke of self-sufficiency and determination.
“Working in construction . . . is that how you became a real-estate developer?”
“I learned a lot working with the father of my roommate, Remy Moreau. Eventually, Jacques Moreau, Remy’s dad, and I became partners. Remy and I are still best friends.”
Flashing another smile, he rose from his chair. “If we want to finish the job before it gets dark, we’d better get going. Plus, I promised I’d deliver you back to your office before your appointment. I’ll have the car brought round to take you home. Jesse and I’ll pick up whatever tools we need.”
“There’s a Wilko hardware store not far from here.”
“Great. You handle your client; Jesse and I will tackle the wall—that is, if the noise won’t be a problem.”
“As I said, my office is behind the house off the garage. It has a private entrance. You won’t bother me.”
“All right, then. Let’s go.”
* * *
The hour Eve spent with her client, Donny Beck, seemed to drag. Faintly, she could hear the hammering and pounding going on inside the house. Curiosity at what the men would find made it hard to concentrate.
Donny shifted nervously on the blue padded chaise on the other side of her desk. “The days just seem so long, you know? It’s either dull and boring or things are just too stressful to handle.”
At twenty-five years old, blond and fair, Donny suffered from both depression and anxiety. He lived with his mother a few blocks away. Judith Beck had brought her son to Eve for help. Eve believed his estranged parents were the biggest part of his problem.
“Everything’s always up in the air,” Donny said. “It’s hard to stay positive, ya know? Like you’re always telling me I should do.” With an inheritance from his grandfather, Donny had never had to work. He was spoiled and selfish. Which he freely admitted. It only made his problems worse.
Eve tried not to look at the clock. The session had ten minutes to go. She dragged her gaze back to her patient’s narrow face. It wasn’t fair to Donny not to give him her full attention.
“I met this girl named Amber,” Donny was saying. “She’s a former addict, but she’s been sober for nearly five years. I really like her.”
A recovering addict was probably not the best choice for Donny. “Take your time, Donny. Get to know her a little. Don’t rush into anything. Did you talk to the man at Iceland Foods who offered you a job?”
Donny surged to his feet. “I don’t need a fooking job!” He strode up to her desk. “Time’s over,” he said darkly. “I’ll see you next week.” Donny stormed out of the office and slammed the door so hard the glass panes rattled.
Eve sighed. It was typical Donny behavior. She wished they were making more progress.
The hammering continued, drawing her back to the activity inside the house. Her other appointment had called to reschedule later in the week, for which Eve was grateful. She tidied up her office and locked the door behind her, made her way up the back stairs into the mudroom.
As she crossed the old-fashioned kitchen and stepped through the door leading into the hallway, she spotted the gaping hole in the wall. Ran and Jesse, both in jeans and low-topped leather boots, were tearing away big pieces of drywall.
Jesse’s T-shirt, wet with sweat, clung to his muscular body. But it was Ran’s physique that captured her attention.
She knew he stayed in shape. She’d had no idea his wide-shouldered, narrow-hipped build would be as hard muscled as Jesse’s. Damp white cotton outlined solid pecks, six-pack abs, and biceps that bulged whenever he moved.
Billionaires were not supposed to look like that!
Ran tossed aside a jagged piece of drywall. “You’re just in time. The cellar’s definitely down there. We just found the entrance. An old wooden staircase is on the other side of what was once a door.”
Eve forced herself to ignore both men and made her way through the debris to the opening they had found in the original wall.
“Be careful not to step on a nail,” Jesse warned.
Eve reached the opening and stared down at the black hole below. “It’s too dark to see. I need to go upstairs and change so I can get down there.”
“We’re almost done with the demolition,” Ran said. “We just need to clean up this mess; then we’ll be ready to take a look. We each brought a change of clothes. Any chance we could borrow your shower?”
“Second floor, end of the hall. There are plenty of clean towels in there.”
“Thanks.” Jesse flashed his trademark grin.
Eve took a last glance at Ran, felt a slide of heat that made her abdomen tighten, quickly turned and headed upstairs.
By the time she had changed into a pair of stretch jeans and a pale-blue knit sweater, the trash was gone from the hall, presumably dumped in the outside bin, and Ran was gone, probably upstairs in the shower. She didn’t let her mind wander in that direction.
Jesse was in the kitchen wearing clean jeans and a navy T-shirt that read:
GHOST HUNTER
IF YOU SEE ME RUNNING
TRY TO KEEP UP
Eve pointed at the shirt and couldn’t stop a laugh. “That’s the way I felt last night.”
Jesse grinned. “It’s definitely an interesting job.”
A few minutes later, Ran appeared in black jeans and a black T-shirt. She had never seen him really dressed down until today. It revealed a totally different side of him. Not Ransom King the billionaire, but Ran King, the man. Even more appealing and even more dangerous, because he was way out of her league.
He was carrying a pair of wet towels. “I’ll put these in the laundry room.”
“Thanks.” She had definitely pegged this man wrong.
“You ready to take a look?” he asked when he returned.
Eve nodded. “More than ready. I’ve been wondering what was behind that door since I was four years old.”
Ran took one of the flashlights he had brought and shined the light into the dark room below, but it barely illuminated the interior.
“I’ll go first,” he said. “I need to rope up before I try the stairs. No way to know if they’ll hold my weight.” He looked over at Eve, must have noticed the worry that pinched the skin between her dark eyebrows.
The room had been sealed for years. The question was why?
“It’s only a precaution,” Ran explained. Tying the rope around his waist, he handed the other end to Jesse, who anchored the rope around the newel post at the bottom of the stairs in the hall, then ran it below his hips. He braced his legs apart, giving him the leverage he needed to hold Ran’s considerable weight.
There was a landing at the top of the old wooden staircase, but most of the railing was gone. Flashlight in hand, Ran tested the first wooden step. “Feels solid enough.” The beam of the flashlight reflected off gray stone walls. Eve caught a glimpse of the stone floor that seemed a mile below, and fresh worry slipped through her.
Ran went down a couple more steps, tested the railing, tested a few more stairs. Halfway down, the railing ended, wood creaked loudly beneath his feet, and he froze. Eve’s pulse increased.
“I got you, boss,” Jesse said.
Ran took another step. The wood groaned beneath his weight but held. He had almost reached the bottom when the wood stair snapped beneath his foot, sending him smashing down to the next step, which split in half, and he dropped the last couple of feet. It would have made a jarring landing if Jesse hadn’t kept the rope taut, stopping his descent. Carefully, Jesse lowered him the last several feet to the rough stone floor.
“You okay?” Jesse asked.
“I’m good.” Ran slipped the rope from around his waist. “I was afraid this would happen. We’re going to need another way to get down here.” He panned the flashlight, giving Eve a look at the room around him.
The cellar wasn’t empty. It wasn’t as cluttered as the living room, but there were piles of old newspapers, a stack of empty paint cans, a wooden ladder with broken rungs, and two steamer trunks.
“I need to get down there,” Eve said. “I want to know what’s in those trunks.”
“Ran figured the stairs might not hold, so we got plenty of rope,” Jesse said. “We can knot it and you can hand-over-hand down to the basement.” He looked her over, taking in her slender figure. “Or maybe not.”
“I can do it.” Eve smiled. “I was a Girl Scout when I was a kid back in Boston.”
Jesse grinned. “All right, then.”
Ran prowled while Jesse created a chain of knots in the thick rope. As he had before, he secured one end across the hall around the newel post.
“Are you sure it’ll hold?” Eve asked.
Jesse put all his weight on it, had to be close to two hundred pounds. The newel post held fast.
“It’s good and solid. It’ll hold.” He grinned. “Besides, you only weigh about half as much as I do.”
A little more than that, she thought, but a smart woman never divulged her secrets, so she kept her mouth shut.
“You go ahead,” Jesse said. “Ran’ll be there to catch you if you fall.”
“I’m not going to fall.” She looked down at Ran, thought of those big hands wrapped around her waist, and her breathing went shallow. She walked over to the landing, sat down with her legs dangling over the side, reached down and grabbed the rope.
“Wrap the line around one leg as you descend,” Ran coached her. She remembered how to do it, was glad she was wearing snug-fitting stretch jeans instead of looser clothes that might get in the way.
The rope steadied her and gave her the confidence to keep going down. She’d played tennis back in Boston, hoped to continue here, knew the muscles in her arms and legs were strong. She was a few feet from the bottom when she felt Ran’s hands settle at her waist.
“You can let go. I’ve got you.”
She let go of the rope but instead of setting her on the ground, he swung her up in his arms. The hard chest she had admired earlier pressed against the side of her breasts and desire hit her so hard she felt dizzy.
“You can . . . you can put me down now.”
His eyes met hers. “Right. Of course. Sorry.” He set her on her feet and turned away, fixed his gaze on the wall in front of him. He seemed so intent, Eve couldn’t help wondering if he had felt the same rush of heat she had felt. If he had, what was he thinking?