Early the next morning, Ellie and her sisters were ready to head over to the inn for the séance when CJ called Laurel. Even though Ellie had heard her sister talking to him last night in her bedroom, Laurel wouldn’t go home to be with him. But this morning, Laurel had agreed he could drop by at nine with freshly baked cinnamon rolls from Silva’s tea shop.
“Did you hear a wolf howling last night?” Ellie asked Meghan.
“No one’s supposed to be howling within the town limits, if the wolf was howling that close,” Meghan said.
“Right. But the howl sure sounded like it was coming from the inn.”
Meghan groaned. “Great. It’s one thing to have a piano playing on and off, but if Matilda begins howling…” Meghan frowned. “Was it Matilda or Chrissy?”
“Chrissy never howled before. You know the owners had to be strict about anyone who worked in the hotel howling or showing themselves in wolf form. They would have been fired. So it must be ingrained. I figured it had to be Matilda, if I hadn’t just dreamed it.”
Meghan sighed. “Well, that would be just great. First she’s playing the piano, and now one of them is howling. If you didn’t just dream it.”
“What if they start making an appearance as wolves? Or they begin to howl in chorus?” She and her sisters had to resolve this before it got any worse.
“Then we really do have to take care of this sooner rather than later.”
Ellie waited for Laurel to finish speaking to CJ, wondering if she would tell her mate why he had to postpone their meeting. It was six now, and the sisters were going to begin their séance as soon as they had everything set up. Ellie thought Laurel might even ask him to join them, but she didn’t. They said all the loving things that newly mated couples say to each other, but Laurel must not have trusted CJ to join them with an open mind.
When they arrived at the inn, Ellie told Laurel about what she’d heard last night, but again saying it might have been a dream.
Laurel didn’t say anything right away as they all began to set up candles in the center of the table, then turned up the heat so they’d be comfortable if the spirits chilled the air a lot and turned off their cell phones to avoid interruptions.
“Maybe you dreamed it,” Laurel finally said.
“I sure hope so.”
Meghan echoed their sentiments.
Conducting a séance could take a long time, so they always got as comfortable as they could. No holding hands. That wasn’t necessary, and it could be distracting. No music. They had to keep their minds open and their senses on the highest alert. Ellie hoped they wouldn’t call on a slew of ghosts at the same time and create more problems. That’s why they didn’t do séances very often.
“Ready?” Laurel asked.
“Go ahead,” Meghan said.
Ellie nodded.
Laurel took a deep breath and exhaled. “Dear Matilda, we would love to speak with you. These are my sisters, Ellie and Meghan. I’m mated to your grandnephew, CJ. Ellie told us you were upset when she mentioned that our father died of pneumonia. Can you tell us what happened?”
The four candles flickered, the room grew colder, but no entities revealed themselves.
“Ellie wants to thank you for teaching her a lesson on the piano. It was her very first, which made it really special for her. She loved it.”
Even though Laurel was always the medium in a séance, Ellie wanted to be the one speaking to Matilda, not having Laurel speak for her. She bit her tongue, mindful that the sisters had to be unified if this was to work. Otherwise, they could risk causing negative energy and negative forces to appear.
She had to give Laurel a chance to connect with the ghost. But she wasn’t feeling anything, except that the dining room was colder. They probably should have done this in the lobby, near the piano.
Then Ellie saw Chrissy pacing back and forth behind Meghan, her arms folded across her waist. “She’s annoying. Make her go away.” Chrissy was looking directly at Ellie, her blond hair coiled on top of her head, a long black dress sweeping past her ankles, her white pinafore nearly as long, and her buttoned leather boots polished. She was swinging her white cap around by the ties, but when she saw Ellie frowning, she quickly tied it back on.
Ellie glanced at Laurel to see if she would agree to have her speak with Chrissy. But Laurel wasn’t looking at her, just across the table in another direction. Ellie raised her brows at Laurel, trying to get her attention, but she only caught Meghan’s eye. She raised both her brows and mouthed the word what?
Laurel must have caught their interaction, because she cleared her throat and said, “Do you wish to speak with Ellie?”
Her brow furrowed, Chrissy looked annoyed.
Before Chrissy left in a huff, Ellie said, “Chrissy”—to make everyone aware that she wasn’t seeing Matilda—“make who go away?”
“This is my home. She doesn’t belong here. Make her go away.” Then Chrissy vanished.
“Chrissy…?” Ellie felt the ghost’s exasperation. She knew how she’d feel if someone was suddenly in her space when she’d had the run of the place for years. Ellie could imagine that Matilda, being older, would think Chrissy would have to live by her rules.
When Chrissy refused to return, Ellie said, “Matilda, will you talk to us? To me? Thank you for showing me how much fun it could be to play the piano. I might not ever be really great at it, but I’m eager to continue taking lessons.”
Laurel frowned at Ellie.
Oops. That’s why Laurel was the medium. Ellie hoped she hadn’t given Matilda the idea she wanted her to continue giving her lessons. Not that she didn’t love it, but that wouldn’t help their guests when they all arrived.
They sat for a long time in silence, maybe a half hour. Ghosts didn’t have time schedules, but Ellie knew that eventually CJ would come by to bring the cinnamon rolls and get a kiss and hug from Laurel.
Ellie turned to Laurel. “Maybe we should move this to the lobby, closer to the piano.”
“Did you see Chrissy?” Laurel asked Meghan.
“Nope. I got nothing.”
“Okay, so she’s unhappy that Matilda is here now, invading her space,” Laurel said. “And that’s completely understandable. She’s tolerating us, maybe because we’ve made the inn beautiful again. So what’s going on with Matilda?”
Ellie shook her head. “Chrissy just said Matilda doesn’t belong here, and she wants her to go away.”
“Why is she speaking to you? And only you? As if you’re the only one to help her?” Laurel asked curiously. Matilda hadn’t appeared before any of the sisters other than Ellie, and now Chrissy was interacting only with Ellie.
“Maybe she thinks I’m the one who brought Matilda here.”
“You didn’t. The movers brought the piano. CJ and his brothers were involved because it had been their family’s piano.”
“But Matilda didn’t appear to me until I was kissing Brett. So maybe Chrissy thinks my actions had something to do with Matilda making her presence known.”
“Okay, that makes sense.” Laurel glanced at the clock. “If you are all willing to try it again, let’s do what Ellie suggests and move this closer to the piano.”
They took their places there, Ellie sitting on the bench before the piano, with Laurel and Meghan a few feet away on high wingback chairs in the lobby.
“Do you want to start this here?” Laurel asked.
“Sure. Maybe I can reach her.” Since Ellie had never served as a medium before, she copied what Laurel had said. Nobody responded. Not Matilda. Not Chrissy. Ellie let out her breath. “You seemed upset when I mentioned our father having pneumonia. Do you feel someone neglected you when you were so ill?”
Dead silence.
Ellie wanted to ask Matilda if she had been howling, but then she’d want to tell the ghost she couldn’t keep doing that—and she figured Matilda wouldn’t appreciate it.
They stayed there until it was getting close to time for CJ to arrive. Then Laurel said, “Come on. Let’s go.”
“I’m going to sit here a while longer,” Ellie said.
“Good luck,” Meghan said.
Laurel nodded. “We’ll keep a cinnamon roll warm for you.”
And then they left.
Ellie tried again. “Do you believe you didn’t die of pneumonia?”
The music sheet sitting on the stand flew off the piano and landed on the floor.
* * *
Trying to get his mind off the way Ellie had looked in her wild tiger pajamas last night when he made love to her in his dreams, Brett hurried to finish another story for the newspaper so he could have lunch with CJ. They’d hired a woman to start a lonely hearts column, which, since they had more bachelor males than females in Silver Town, was filled with lonely heart letters from guys. She’d also started a recipe column. Brett hoped to try some of the recipes so he could cook something really great for Ellie that he didn’t have to cook outside on the grill. A couple of teens were writing a column about the fun things to do in Silver Town and the surrounding communities for kids of all ages. One of the suggestions had been to run as wolves on the new ski trails before the owners had enough snowfall to open the ski resort. He’d like to do that with Ellie.
For now, he could hardly concentrate on anything but what he was going to be doing with Ellie tonight. He sure hoped she loved playing the piano, and that they could find other pastimes to share. He’d already picked up carving tools and blocks of wood to use in creating their first projects and a book on macramé, in case they wanted to try it too.
Brett glanced out at the gray sky, which showed the threat of a winter storm coming in. Tomorrow was Halloween, and he hoped the snow wouldn’t stop everyone from enjoying the parties and trick-or-treating. Even he had decorated his office with a jack-o’-lantern candy dish filled with treats, and a black cat and raven oversaw the office.
He pulled out the file he’d created concerning Great-Aunt Matilda. He’d gotten a copy of the coroner’s report and the medical records Doc Oliver had for his great-aunt. She’d died so long ago that they didn’t have forensic tests like today. She’d been sick, gotten pneumonia, and died. No bruising or other trauma that would indicate she’d had a struggle with anyone. That was all the medical report said.
Next, Brett called Stanton Wernicke to ask if he knew how to exorcise a ghost. Brett wasn’t about to say it had anything to do with Stanton’s MacTire cousins. If Brett learned that the brothers couldn’t really get rid of ghosts, that would be the end of that notion. But maybe Stanton could tell Brett how to do it. He felt it was his responsibility because Matilda was his great-aunt and he’d offered the piano to the sisters in the first place.
“Hey, Stanton, this is Brett Silver.” Though he was sure the ghost-buster TV personality would have caller ID. “I’m Darien Silver’s cousin.”
“Yeah,” Stanton said. “And your brother CJ married my cousin Laurel.”
“Correct.”
“Great. So…what can I do for you?” Stanton sounded a little distrustful, probably because of the trouble the Wernickes had had with Darien and the pack. When they first came to town, the brothers shouldn’t have tried to claim the MacTire sisters’ inn was theirs.
Even though the brothers had mended their ways, the pack was still a bit wary of their intentions. But if the Wernickes could help the ladies, Brett wanted to solicit their aid.
“Can you really help ghosts find the way to their final resting place?”
“Yeah, but if we do, we want to include the story on TV. That’s what pays the bills.”
“How do you send them away?” Brett knew the ladies wouldn’t go along with a televised show in their inn, and he didn’t want his family included in a ghost show either. He was certain his brothers would agree. He still thought this was a lot of hocus-pocus, sleight of hand, television magic. Not anything that was real.
“Let’s first discuss where this malevolent being is located.”
“I can’t say. I want to know for certain if you can send a ghost on its way if it’s causing people trouble. If not, I’ll have to look elsewhere.”
A long pause followed. Stanton was probably trying to figure out where the ghost was so he could still use it for his show.
“This…doesn’t have to do with my cousins, does it?” Stanton sounded serious, yet there was a hint of excitement in his voice.
“No.” As far as Brett was concerned, it didn’t. He was the one looking into soliciting the Wernicke brothers’ help. He wanted the best for his great-aunt, for her to find peace in this world—and the next, if she truly was stuck in this world. In no way did he want to upset Ellie and her sisters.
“We always have to conduct our research first. So we can’t do gigs where we don’t know the situation better than that. If the ghost is happy where it is, we really don’t want to force it to leave. People need to realize that some spirits have found their home and don’t want to be anywhere else. People need to learn to coexist.”
“Okay, I agree.” If Brett could wrap his mind around the idea that ghosts even exist. “Can you do it as quietly as possible? Just have one of you show up to do the job?”
“We all know each other’s jobs in case one is sick or otherwise incapacitated and can’t make it, but we usually work as a team to achieve better and quicker results. If this needs to be done in secret, I suppose I could handle it.”
That’s more like what Brett was thinking of. “I guess you don’t just do a job for free.” He would pay them a set amount if they could do it. But no TV show. He still had to find a way to get them into the inn without creating a big deal over it.
“For a couple of hours, five thousand dollars. Our work is fully guaranteed. If it doesn’t work, we keep coming back until it’s finished. No extra charge.”
“For just one of you? That’s way over my budget.” Though if Brett solicited his brothers, they could each pay something for the Wernicke brothers’ services. But he wasn’t certain Eric or Sarandon would go along with the idea. Maybe not even CJ.
“Okay, well, if you change your mind, get ahold of me. You have my number. Have a great ghost-free day.” Stanton hung up on him.
Brett shoved his phone in his pocket and got ready to pick up Ellie. If he was going to pay anyone that kind of money, he wanted to know for certain that Stanton truly could do what he said he could. The only way Brett could guarantee that was if he had someone else verify the ghost was really gone. That meant one of the sisters would have to do it, since he didn’t know anyone else who could see them. Unless CJ could and he was in denial.
Brett didn’t entirely trust the Wernicke brothers. He could see that working with Stanton could be a disaster. He called CJ on the way to Ellie’s house. “Hey, are you speaking to Laurel yet?”
“Of course. I took her home, spent some quality time with her, had cinnamon rolls and coffee, and returned her to the inn to work.”
“So she’s no longer mad at you?”
“We still need to talk. But no. So what did you learn about Matilda?”
“Records say she died of pneumonia. Fluid in the lungs. No really great forensics back then though. But when I looked into other possible causes for fluid in the lungs, I found drowning and severe pulmonary edema. Even today, not one pathognomonic autopsy finding can definitively prove drowning in a victim. Since she’d had a cold beforehand, was elderly, and found dead in bed with no signs of any trauma to the body, the doctor concluded she’d died of pneumonia in her sleep. In other news, I talked to Stanton Wernicke about the ghost situation.”
“Do you want to stir up a hornet’s nest with Ellie and her sisters?”
“I didn’t tell him the ghost was at the inn. I wanted to know if they could really exorcise a ghost.”
“And he said they can, right? But where’s the proof?”
“That would be the problem—verifying they were successful without asking the sisters. He charges five thousand for a job if he’s not able to use it on their TV show.”
“That’s highway robbery!”
“Right. I was thinking if all of us pitched in—you, me, Eric, and Sarandon—it wouldn’t be quite so much.”
“I can tell you right now that our brothers won’t go for it.”
“Okay, so the other problem is that we’d want to know if they’d handled the job successfully. Unless you can see ghosts or sense them or something, we’d have to ask Ellie or one of her sisters. Whoever can see them.”
“Which gets us back to them learning we’re doing this with their cousins in the first place. And I say no.”
“We’ve got to do something.”
“You exorcise the ghost then.”
How could Brett do that when he couldn’t even see or sense spirits? “Okay, I’ll research it and see what I can learn.” He would do anything he could to try to help out.
CJ laughed. “Good luck with that.” He didn’t sound the least bit serious.
“Okay, so if I try to do this on my own, can you tell if a ghost is still there?”
“You’d have to ask Ellie, and I don’t think you want to go there. By the way, how are things with you and Ellie? Is she dating anyone else yet?”
“Nah, she hasn’t had time and I don’t think she’s interested.”
“Lucky for you, Brett. Talk to you later. Got to go on patrol.”
“All right.” Brett loved to research things. Even if he didn’t exactly believe in all this, he could look into it. What if he found an easy solution? Attempting to exorcise the ghost would be less of a trial than sneaking Stanton into the inn. More than likely, an exorcism wouldn’t cost him much, if anything. Hell, maybe he could just talk to his great-aunt and see if that worked. The problem was that he didn’t really believe she was still here. If she were, why hadn’t she let him know all these years?
When Brett arrived at the MacTire sisters’ home, Laurel and Meghan were heading to the inn. They told him to have fun at the piano lesson and continued on their way. Ellie met him outside, looking like she was getting ready to take an exam and hadn’t studied the night before. He took her cold hand in his and led her out to the car.
“Now remember, no worries. If we have fun at this, fine. If not, we can quit.”
“I didn’t even ask how much it was going to cost,” she said.
“It’s free.”
“No, we have to pay the teacher what he normally charges.”
“It’s a promotional tool for him. I’ll pay him. The first two lessons are free to see if we even want to do this.”
“Are you sure? I can—”
“No. My suggestion, my treat.”
As soon as she got into the car, she saw the macramé book and smiled. “You were serious.”
“Weren’t you?”
She laughed. “Yes.” Then she saw the book on wood carving beneath it. She began flipping through the pages of the macramé book first. “Oh, oh, I want to try this one. It would be perfect to hang off the back porch holding a pot of flowers in the spring. Or maybe a wall hanging. Oh, I don’t know now.” She checked out the book on wood carving and smiled at the picture of a wolf carving. “This one.” She knew that was the one she wanted to do.
“I haven’t seen the macramé project I want to do yet, but I’ll look later. We can pick up the supplies we need once we’re ready to try it out. I did get what we needed for wood carving. The wolf was my choice too.” He was glad he’d pleased her. He wanted her to know he was serious, and that he wanted to share in things she wanted to do too.
“Hey, if we get really good at it, or at least if one of us does, we can offer carvings and wall hangings for sale in the lobby,” she said.
“Gifts for family. The possibilities are limitless.” As long as they turned out well!
* * *
Laurel really liked the piano teacher. He was in his mid-to-late fifties, and like Brett had said, he was really eager to teach them how to play.
He started teaching them the notes and gave them some online lessons to work on so they could practice.
Remer had dark-red hair like Ellie, which made her wonder if he had Irish roots too. Or maybe Scottish. While Brett was practicing, she asked.
“To be sure,” Remer said. “My maternal and paternal grandparents were from Ireland. They came over about the time the Silver family was starting the town.”
“I thought you were new here. That you’ve only been here a year or so.”
Brett was still practicing the piece the teacher wanted him to play.
“Yes. We moved away for a time. I was performing in an orchestra in New York, but I got tired of not being around our kind. So I returned here.”
“No family now?”
“Nope. I was an only child.” Remer gave Brett some more notes to practice. “Both of you are doing great for your first time. I’m surprised you didn’t learn some from your great-aunt or your grandmother,” he said to Brett.
Brett was frowning as he pressed down the keys. “My grandmother didn’t play the piano as far as I knew.”
“Oh, she played. She didn’t play as well as Matilda though. Your great-aunt taught me piano lessons for a number of years. She taught a lot of kids. Matilda even asked your grandmother to take over lessons one day after she suddenly got an emergency call. Your grandmother didn’t play or teach half as well as your great-aunt. Maybe it was because she didn’t play that often. But she didn’t seem to have a natural affinity for it either. I think there was some jealousy between the two of them over it.”
“I never knew that,” Brett said. “I know they lived together at the end, but I never saw Grandmother play.”
Ellie hadn’t lived here back then, but she was surprised Brett’s grandmother had kept her training a secret from him. Even if Ellie never learned to play well, she wouldn’t hide the fact that she’d tried to learn. She was always trying new stuff. No big deal if she didn’t master it and make a big success of it. If one of her sisters was better at something than she was, she would be happy for her.
“Your great-aunt made a good income off her lessons. She performed a lot too, before she settled down and began teaching local kids.”
They heard someone enter through the front door.
Remer smiled. “Another student just arrived. So what do you think? Are you willing to continue lessons for a few more sessions?”
Brett looked up at Ellie, and she swore he was holding his breath, waiting for her answer. She smiled. “Of course. You can tell me when—I mean, if—you think I’m a hopeless student at any time. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
“Truthfully, I’ve never seen a student play so well for the first time.”
She was going to say he must have had some really bad students, but since he hadn’t said the same about Brett, she smiled again. She thought about Matilda really giving her the first lesson, but she wasn’t about to mention that. “Thanks.”
When she and Brett left Remer’s house, Brett wrapped his arm around Ellie’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze in the crisp fall air. “That wasn’t too awfully bad, was it?”
“No. I really had fun.”
“Good. Me too. You did very well. I thought we’d go to Silva’s tea shop for lunch if you like.”
“Oh, I’d love to. She’ll love it.” She was glad Brett had suggested the tea shop and not the pub for lunch since they had dinner there recently. Both were first-class establishments as far as meals and service went, but Silva’s tea shop was only open for lunch.
Ellie was glad she had tried the piano lessons. At least so far it had been fun. “That was a surprise about your grandmother playing piano, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. She didn’t want my Uncle Ned to take lessons. She always said it wasn’t a masculine enough activity for him. Maybe she didn’t like the idea of her sister teaching him because she could play better than my grandmother.”
“Brett, do you know for sure that Matilda died of natural causes?”
* * *
Brett glanced in Ellie’s direction, shocked she’d ask about his great-aunt’s cause of death. What did she suspect? Or know?
“You saw her, didn’t you? Not Chrissy, but Matilda,” he asked.
Ellie nodded. “I know you don’t exactly believe in ghosts, so I didn’t want to mention it. She didn’t like that you and I were kissing. I figured it was her Victorian upbringing. Unmated girls had to be chaperoned.”
He couldn’t believe it. Yet that did sound suspiciously like his great-aunt. “And?”
Ellie let out her breath on a heavy sigh. “Meghan and I heard her playing the piano in the inn the other night.”
Brett pulled into the parking lot of Silva’s tea shop and cut the engine. He stared at Ellie in disbelief. “What are you going to do about it? With your guests coming?”
“Do you believe me?”
She looked so hopeful that his heart went out to her.
“Well, like I said, it’s kind of hard to believe in something I can’t see or hear. I can rationalize that others can experience ghosts when I can’t, I guess, but still, it’s hard to imagine.”
“Well then, we’ll just have to kiss by the piano.”
He smiled, certainly ready for that.
“Then again, you probably wouldn’t be able to see her if she suddenly appeared. I’d be the only one who was unsettled. Maybe I can talk her into playing the piano for you. She showed me some keys to play last night.”
He shut his gaping mouth and processed that. “I thought you went to bed.”
“I-I just had to talk with her. So I went to the inn and told her we were taking piano lessons together. I didn’t see her this time. I don’t always see the physical ghost. She began to show me keys to play, and I copied her. I think that pleased her.”
“Why did you think she might not have died of pneumonia?”
“I mentioned my dad dying of pneumonia to her.”
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. We were devastated. It seemed to bother her when I asked if she’d had a relapse like my dad had. She made a horrible noise on the piano, banging on the keys. She seemed really angry. I can’t imagine that anyone who loves the piano as much as she did would mistreat it. Maybe she was angry that she had died from pneumonia. Or she believed that someone hadn’t taken care of her like he or she should have, even if they had. My mother was devoted to my father. So were my sisters and I. He still died. His body didn’t have time to fight the infection before he lapsed into a coma and died.”
“Do you think she might be telling you someone neglected her and that’s why she died?”
“No. Like I said, it could be she’s angry about it, despite receiving the best of care. It doesn’t mean anyone did anything wrong.”
“Okay, I wondered.” Brett took a deep breath and let it out. “She had a cold beforehand. Maybe she had walking pneumonia, unaware that she was that sick. But what if something else happened? What if she actually drowned?”
Ellie stared at him in disbelief. “What makes you consider that?”
“It’s all supposition. Probably just a crazy, far-out notion. I keep thinking that if she showed herself to you, she needs some kind of closure to move on. It’s possible that something else, nothing sinister, is at stake. But what if that’s not the case? Especially if she’s upset you think she died of pneumonia. What else would she have died of that could simulate pneumonia? Pulmonary edema can cause a buildup of fluid in the lungs. But drowning can too. I ran the idea past CJ, but he doesn’t believe the cause was anything other than what the coroner’s report stated.”
“She died in bed though, right?”
“That’s what everyone thinks.”
“So what makes you think that she could have died elsewhere?”
He explained about the missing boat and what they’d found in the bottom of it—the man’s glove, the empty wine bottle, and his great-aunt’s sunbonnet.
“Scandalous,” Ellie said very seriously. “I mean, if she had issues with us kissing when we’re not mated, and she was partying with some guy in a boat on the river behind her house, her sunbonnet off… Well, it sounds rather scandalous.”
“And out of character? Of course, the old gal might have had a secretly wild side. We don’t really know.”
“Any idea who the gentleman suitor might have been?”
“A couple of men were hanging around. One loved to play the piano. The other was Remer’s grandfather, Theodore. I don’t know the name of the first man.”
“Two gentleman suitors?” Ellie tsked. “And she was giving me the evil eye because we were kissing? Okay, so when were the items found in the boat?”
“Well, Theodore was actually seeing Grandmom. After Matilda’s death, they discovered the boat had gotten loose from its moorings, and the river had carried it downstream a couple of miles. Someone in the pack found it stuck on some rocks.”
“Did anyone notice it was missing before she died?”
“No.”
Ellie frowned. “So, if she had drowned, someone would have had to carry her to the house, change her clothes, and put her to bed.”
“Her hair was damp the next morning, though everyone assumed she’d had a bath and taken more of a chill. A couple of damp towels were hanging on the rack. Grandmom said Matilda must have been really delirious because she’d used both Grandmom’s towel and her own, and her nightgown was on backward.”
“Or she could have been drunk on the wine. Then again, she could have drowned, and the man who brought her back dried her the best he could, making the mistake of using both towels, then dressed her in her nightclothes and made it look like she just didn’t wake up the next morning. That means he would have left water all over though, if he’d had to pull her out of the river and carry her back to the house.” Ellie shook her head.
“Or he went back to the house and used the two towels to mop up the floor.”
“Did anyone notice a bunch of wet towels?”
“No. Just the two.”
“And her wet clothes?”
“He might have disposed of them.”
“So she was living with your grandmother?” Ellie asked.
“Yes, her twin sister, my grandmother, but she wasn’t home at the time. Grandmom was out with a couple of lady friends and was completely distraught that she had been gone when my great-aunt got so sick and died. She’d believed Matilda was home, not wanting to go out with the ladies because of her cold, and instead playing her piano as usual. But what if she went out with some guy, and it had a tragic end?”
“Accidentally? Or on purpose?” Ellie lifted a brow.
“Or not the case at all. I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this. It’s hard for me to believe she’s been hanging around the piano all these years when none of us had a clue.”
“I understand. I have to admit we were sure shocked.”
“I saw the way you were upset when I was kissing you. I’m glad it wasn’t because of me.”
She smiled. “It wasn’t because of you. So what are we going to do about the possibility that your great-aunt didn’t die of natural causes?”
“I’d say we might need to team up and do research. What do you think?”
Ellie nodded. “Yeah. I’m all for it. I’m starving. Do you think you can eat anything?”
“I sure do.” Despite being hungry and wanting to spend as much time as possible with Ellie, Brett was distracted. He had been thinking way ahead about this situation. He needed to learn who the other man was. Had anyone seen them go out in the boat? Or know anything that would prove she had gone out that night and not stayed at home like his grandmother had believed.
Brett and Ellie entered the tea shop. Round tables covered in lace, antique teapots and teacups, botanical prints, and vases of roses adorned the quaint Victorian shop. Silva also had decorated pumpkins filled with flowers on each of the tables. Ghost and Frankenstein petit fours were sitting on a platter underneath glass, and a pot of witches’ brew—orange spice tea—was scenting the shop for that sweetly Victorian Halloween flair.
Silva greeted them with a cheery smile and then showed them to their seats at a table next to one of the windows overlooking a covered street-side patio with café chairs and tables. Brett had a triple-stacked Reuben sandwich and swore Silva had made it more man-sized just for him, so he’d encourage more of the guys to stop in at the tea shop. Ellie had chicken and dumplings, and the women in the tea shop twittered as if seeing a man in the lunch room had gotten them all excited. Most were mated, so he was amused.
“You’re getting all kinds of attention,” Ellie said to Brett, taking another spoonful of her chicken and dumplings. She smiled at him.
He chuckled. “They’d react that way if any guy turned up here.”
She laughed. “Enjoy it while you can.”
A red car pulled up outside the window and parked. The license plate immediately caught his eye. “Art4Hire.” Ah hell. Not only was the driver Ginger, one of the former students who had painted him when he was modeling nude, but Thera and Renea, both watercolor artists, climbed out of her car. They lived in or around Breckenridge, and all had been in one class or another that he had modeled for. There wasn’t any way that they would know he had come here for lunch. And though they’d mailed him free prints that he didn’t keep, he’d never given any of the ladies his phone number or email address.
No one knew he was going to be here today except Ellie. No way had he wanted to mention this to her here and now, but he could see the trouble he might be in with her when the women entered the shop and saw him—if they didn’t already know he was here.
He reached across the table and took her hand and squeezed. “Trouble is on its way.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. You see those three ladies?”
She glanced out the window and raised her brows as one of them saw Brett and began waving and blew a kiss to him. The others started waving frantically too. Damn.
“Former lover?” Ellie sounded like she was trying to keep her tone of voice even, but he heard a hint of annoyance.
“No. I used to model for art classes at a college in Breckenridge so I could pay for my journalism degree.”
Her gaze switched to Brett, and her jaw dropped. “A nude model?”
He was afraid she was going to dump him right then and there.
“Not always. Sometimes I had something draped across my lap.”
Her lips were parted in surprise, but then her attention shifted to the door as the bell jingled and the three women walked in. They were all lookers: Ginger, the redhead; Thera, the brunette; and Renea, the blond. They were great artists, displaying their works in galleries all over. But Brett’s modeling days were done. Not that he couldn’t still model and do a good job of it, but he was a news reporter now, and that’s all he cared about doing.
Ellie leaned back in her chair as if distancing herself from him and the women, who happily surrounded him, all smiles and hugs. What could he do but smile back and return the hugs? Platonically, of course. He didn’t want Ellie to think this was how he was with everyone and that he had a bunch of women interested in his body, just because he’d posed for some art classes a couple of years back.
“We came here to see if we could find you,” Ginger said. “We thought if the three of us got together, we could convince you to model for another session. We’d pay for it, of course.”
“Truthfully?” Renea said. “Ginger made such a mint off her last oil painting of you that we all wanted to have another chance. We’re in competition to see who can make the biggest sale this time. We all have our own technique so our paintings turn out differently for each of us.”
“We even have one of those fake bear rugs you can pose on,” Thera said.
Brett noticed that everyone in the shop was watching them now. Ah, hell. The word would get around the pack pronto.
“My answer is still no. Sorry, ladies. My modeling days are over.”
Ginger turned to Ellie. “Have you seen our work?” She pulled an envelope from her large bag and handed it to Brett as if he were going to open it up and show off his nude poses. Yes, it was art, but somehow it didn’t seem as much like it when he was trying to court a she-wolf who didn’t know anything about his modeling days.
Everyone waited expectantly. Ellie’s cheeks turned crimson.
Silva dropped off a slice of chocolate cheesecake for Ellie and raspberry-topped cheesecake for Brett, both garnished with candy pumpkins. “I know you have to get back to work, so I wanted to drop this off before you have to leave.” Silva turned to the ladies. “Three for lunch?”
They were still eyeing Brett like he was on the menu. “Nice to see you again, ladies.” And then he turned his attention to Ellie, not waiting for the ladies to say good-bye. He was there with Ellie and wanted only to be with her.
Ellie was poking at her cheesecake, ignoring him and the ladies. The women moved off to the table farthest from them near the kitchen. Brett would have to thank Silva for the rescue later.
“She must have guessed we’d want a slice of her award-winning cheesecake,” Ellie said, sounding like nothing had just happened.
“My brothers are always ordering pies or cheesecake from her. They’re the best.”
“They are.” Ellie poked at her cheesecake some more.
“About the modeling,” Brett said. Ellie eyed the manila envelope on the table. “I’ve said no to modeling ever since I finished my degree.”
She shrugged as if the modeling didn’t matter and poked her fork into her cheesecake again.
If she didn’t want to discuss it, he was fine with that, but he was afraid they needed to get this out in the open. “I didn’t date them, and I didn’t do any private modeling for anyone. It was strictly through the college.”
“How did they know you live here?”
“They wanted to send me prints of how their paintings of me turned out. I said sure, not really thinking about what I’d do with them. They’ve done really well with them, but that has a lot to do with how well they paint.”
Ellie sat back in her chair again. “So…paintings of you, and prints, are all over the place? In your home even?”
“Uh, well, I guess. I don’t know. I mean, really, who would want a painting of a nude guy hanging on the living room wall? I really don’t see how they could sell all that well. And no, I don’t have any hanging up in my home.” He lowered his voice. “I didn’t keep the ones they sent to me. I mean, it seems kind of narcissistic.”
“What are you going to do with those?”
“The same thing I did with the others. I certainly don’t intend to share them, frame them, or keep them tucked away.”
She eyed them again, and he wondered if she was curious to see them. He certainly wasn’t going to offer to show her and risk her being further annoyed with him.
“Listen, Ellie, if you’re upset about this, I understand, and I’m more than willing to talk further to you about it. But I need to get on the road to Green Valley to interview your aunt Charity about her candy store’s anniversary. I’ll be getting back by six. I thought we might have some dinner and then practice our piano lessons a little, if you’d like.”
She hesitated, and he hated that she might be rethinking their relationship.
Then she finally nodded. “I’d like that. What if we have some trouble with your great-aunt’s piano?” Ellie sounded worried that they might and he’d be upset about it. Maybe that was all that bothered her.
Brett reached across the table to take her hand, and he swore every eye in the room was on the two of them. “No problem. We can deal with anything.” He stroked the top of her hand with his thumb.
Ellie blushed.
He knew then that she didn’t mind his attentions. Not even with the other women looking on. The problem was his disapproving great-aunt. He couldn’t wait to see Ellie tonight. But he had to get to Green Valley and return home before the weather turned bad.
He paid for the meal and gave Silva a generous tip. She gave him a big smile back. “If I hadn’t already taken Sam for a mate, I might have considered choosing you.”
He laughed. As if she had ever wanted anyone but Sam.
Silva winked at Ellie, and she blushed again.
“Okay, I’ll call as soon as I get back, and we’ll have dinner,” he said, escorting Ellie out of the tea shop.
“Thanks for lunch, Brett. I look forward to tonight.” She glanced again at the envelope tucked under his arm.
He was certain she was curious about what she would see. Truth be told, so was he. Which was another reason he didn’t want to show them to her. He slipped the envelope into his leather briefcase before he climbed into the car and then drove her home.
When they arrived at Ellie’s house, he kissed her in a way that said he wanted more than just a casual relationship. He didn’t care if her sisters caught them kissing if they happened to glance out the inn windows. He only cared about this moment with Ellie. She wrapped her arms around his neck and was kissing him right back, as if she wanted the same. She was warm and soft, bright and cheerful. No matter what was going on, she always had something nice to say, a positive outlook on life, real kindhearted. She would make the perfect mate.
She was teasing his tongue with hers, their breaths frosty in the chilled air, their bodies pressed tight against each other’s. Despite the bulk of her wool coat and his ski jacket, he still felt her heat pressed against him. He smelled her pheromones telling him she was enjoying this intimacy between them as much as he was, and he loved it.
She finally pulled away from him, looking serious. “You’d better get going, or you won’t have time to get back from Green Valley before the snowstorm hits.”
“Nothing will stop me from getting home in time to have dinner with you. But you’re right. I need to get on the road. About…Halloween. Do you mind if I come over and help you and your sisters hand out drinks or candy?”
“We’d love it.”
He pulled her into his arms for one last serious hug, kissed her mouth and forehead, and then said he’d see her soon.
She smiled, waved at him, then walked on the path to the inn to work. He wondered if she’d tell her sisters about his modeling stints, or if either of them already knew. As close as they were, he suspected that if they had known, they would have told her.
He was over the moon and sure he and Ellie were headed for a mating. As soon as he could, he’d research how to exorcise a ghost, and once he had done it to his satisfaction, he would have a serious talk with Ellie about the direction their relationship was going.
* * *
Even though Ellie was dying to see the paintings of Brett in the nude, there was no way she would ever ask to see them.
This afternoon, she had important business to take care of. She called the newspaper and put in her letter for the Lonely Hearts column. She figured if she was going to date someone, he should be a wolf, if she was going to prove their theory that she and Brett were dream mating. As far as she knew, dream mating never happened between a wolf and a human. No way was she going to leave town to try to hook up with a human. And she’d make it known that she was just dating for fun, nothing serious. Still, she felt awkward about doing this. She wondered if anyone even read the column.
She thought about Brett posing nude for all those art students and sighed, reminding herself it was just art, and he was right. Who would want to have his nude body plastered all over their homes? Sure, she wanted to take a peek, but no way would she want to put him on display for everyone else to see.
Then she recalled what the redhead had said—they’d brought a bear rug for him to lie on while they painted him? Now all Ellie could think of was him stretched out nude on a polar bear rug, looking sexy as the devil.
Her sisters had probably been watching her and Brett. They would have heard his car pull up and would have checked to see if he was bringing her home or whether they had some other visitors. So it wasn’t like they would be spying on her. Though she suspected they’d watch to see how far they were taking the relationship. The problem was the whole communing-with-ghosts issue.
She had no intention of telling her sisters that she was going to post a letter in the Lonely Hearts column. They’d probably tell her it was a bad idea. She’d hear about it soon enough.
When she walked into the inn, she half expected her sisters to approach her and want to know more of what was going on between her and Brett. Laurel and Meghan were in the basement, one of them running the noisy vacuum. Maybe they hadn’t heard or seen her come in.
She headed down the stairs, and Meghan spied her first, smiling and turning off the vacuum. “So, anything you want to tell us?”
Laurel came out of one of the bedrooms, a white splotch of paint on her cheek, the paintbrush in hand, with the lid to the paint can held beneath it to catch drips, her brows raised in question.
“About…?” If they hadn’t been watching Ellie with Brett, maybe this was about the ghosts.
Laurel smiled but shook her head. “About Brett, of course. Where is this going between the two of you?”
“You were watching.”
Meghan snorted. “We just checked to see if it was you, and it was. We didn’t expect the steamy scene to play out before us.”
“And you kept watching.”
Meghan smiled. “The show was great.”
“We still want to know if Brett is on board with your abilities, or you’re still keeping it secret from him. You can’t, you know. We were honest with CJ, or at least about the fact we knew Chrissy was haunting the inn. It’s up to you to tell Brett it’s a little more than that with you and Meghan,” Laurel warned.
“I will.” Ellie just had to wait until the time was right. Maybe tonight she could convince Matilda to play the piano, and hopefully Brett could hear her too. If he did, and he believed that ghosts existed, she could tell him how she could commune with them.
“So what’s next on the agenda?” Laurel asked.
Ellie smiled. “I’m going to start decorating for fall. That way, the day after Halloween, we can take the decorations down, and we’ll be all set with the autumn decorations for Victorian Days and Thanksgiving.”
Both her sisters looked exasperated with her. “With Brett,” Laurel said.
Ellie sighed and headed up the stairs to decorate. “Dinner, of course. Piano lessons.”
“On the haunted piano?” Laurel asked.
“Yes.” Ellie turned to look at her sisters. “And if Matilda plays, which I’m going to try to convince her to do, then he’ll know ghosts exist and I can tell him the rest.”
“Good luck with that,” Meghan said, but in a sarcastic way.
“If you need our help with it, let us know,” Laurel said in a way that said she meant it.
“Thanks, Laurel.” Ellie gave Meghan a peeved look and ascended the remaining stairs. She decided she would try to talk to Matilda now, just to prepare her for tonight.