| |
Rand stood near the worktable in the foyer. The nearly completed mural of the four ladies of the night, the leaded glass windows at the top of the stairs and the etched glass on either side of the front door lent to the feeling of having stepped into the past. The painting itself was truly a work of art. Although the paint had faded unevenly and trying to get a true color was a problem, Rand enjoyed working on it. He loved the mural and its subjects as much as, if not more than, Echo did.
Once word got out about its discovery, it would become the focal point of the hotel. Because many of Björn Nord’s murals had been destroyed as he seemed to love picking strange locations to paint them, there were only three murals left in the world Rand knew of. He was sure it would bring artists from around the world to see the newest discovery. He had told Echo she would have to be careful not to overbook and to expect foot traffic coming in just to see the mural.
He smiled, remembering Echo’s pleasure when he told her she owned a real treasure. She was a treasure herself. He’d met no one so giving, almost to a fault. She needed to take something for herself, and he supposed she had. She had found the rotting bordello and turned it into a lovely establishment. She loved it and thrived on the work she was doing.
Rand reminded himself that he needed to return to the work at hand, but his eyes drifted to the windows again as he smelled the fragrant air filled with the aroma of cut grass which flooded the foyer. Mockingbirds trilled in the trees. Ann would really have liked this place. And Echo, he thought.
Thinking of his sister made him sad. He knew Paul had killed her, but proving it was nearly impossible. He and Echo spent hours discussing it and they couldn’t get around the fact that they’d sound crazy if they went to the police. Sure, he could go to the police. And tell them what? That his girlfriend had visions and his sister inhabited her body? Yeah, right! They’d laugh him out of the office or call the men with strait jackets to come take him away.
It was difficult enough for him to believe. He knew if he hadn’t seen Ann on the plane just moments after she died, he wouldn’t have believed Echo’s story himself. But the fact was he had, and that was what made the situation even more complicated.
It had been a week since the intruder had shown up at the hotel, and nothing unusual had happened since. But now, Rand felt nervous all the time, ready to pounce if someone surprised him. The tension was so thick he imagined he could use it as paint on the mural.
Forcing his attention back to the mural, Rand quickly lost himself in the restoration process. Hours later, he’d completed the simple blending of colors into the pattern of the background. He saved the difficult areas, such as the skin tones, for last.
Stretching his hands over his head, he yawned loudly. What he needed was a strong mug of coffee. Jerrica usually kept a pot going in the kitchen for the guests. He smiled. The woman was a little bizarre, but in their conversations over coffee, she’d let him know he wasn’t crazy, and that they were all frightened for Echo.
He dumped his brushes into the coffee can filled with thinner. When he returned to painting, he only had to stroke them across the screen, resting on the bottom of the can to remove the excess thinner and dry them with a wad of paper towels before starting again.
As he entered the short hallway between the dining room and kitchen area, he could see Echo walking through the kitchen.
“Want to sit for a while over a cup of coffee with me?” he called, his deep voice sounding louder than he’d expected in the confines of the hall. But to his surprise she didn’t respond as she continued walking toward the door.
“Echo!” Calling her again, he watched as she opened the door and walked outside.
Rand’s jaw dropped. That wasn’t like Echo at all. She normally would have told him she was busy or something. But not to answer at all?
A sharp, painful sting on his forearm drew his attention away from Echo and her strange behavior. Finding nothing that would cause the sting, Rand started down the hall only to be stopped by a sharp blow to his rear end.
“Ow! Jerrica, what’d you...” he stopped as he turned to find a woman he didn’t think he’d seen before standing behind him. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her face. She wore an emerald-colored evening dress with a high, tight collar that looked almost old maidish until his eyes dropped to the bodice, or what he supposed was the bodice of the dress. It had been cut out, and the top of her full, ample bust was exposed. Rand stood staring as he tried to deny what his eyes and his mind were telling him. He knew that dress. In fact, he had just finished touching up that dress on the mural. This was one angel of the night come to life.
“What in blazes is wrong with you, young man?” the woman asked. “Can’t you see that wasn’t Echo that just left? That’s your sister, and if I’m not mistaken, she goin’ out to confront that dad-blamed son-of-a-bitch that kilt her!” She stood there, hands on her hips, her stance filled with disgust.
Echo and Jerrica were right. The house had ghosts, and very well-informed ghosts at that.
“What should I do?” he finally asked.
“Oh, you nincompoop! Go after her!” The woman stomped her foot in frustration.
Rand raced out the door.
~ * ~
ANN STEERED THE CAR up the dirt road leading to the ranch house. She wouldn’t allow Paul to continue harassing Rand and Echo the way he had been. Eventually, he would try to kill them again, and she couldn’t let that happen. She’d been patient, waiting for Rand to find the evidence he needed against Paul, but she couldn’t stand it anymore. Slamming on the brakes, stopping only inches from the porch, she skidded to a halt, jerked the door open, and jumped out of the car.
“What the hell are you doing, you crazy woman? You damned near ran into my house!” Paul yelled as he raced out the front door.
Standing at the foot of the steps, Ann glared up at Paul, her hands on her hips. Anger surged through her as she stood looking at her murderer. He had taken away her life, and now he was standing on the porch of her house, claiming it as his own.
“I want you out of my house and off my land,” Ann shouted.
His brows knitted questioningly. “Your land? Whatever makes you say that, Mrs. Brennen?”
Of course, he wouldn’t know me in Echo’s body. She said, “Paul. I might look like Echo, but it’s really me, Ann. Like I said, get off my land.”
Paul took the steps leading out into the driveway two at a time. As he reached her, he grabbed her by the upper arms and shook her decidedly as he pushed her toward the car.
“No, it’s you that had better get the hell off my land. No one invited you out here. What the hell is the matter with you? You are crazy, aren’t you?”
Ann laughed and pulled away from his grasp. “Paul. Would Echo know about the scar I have on my right hip? The scar you caused by putting that cigarette out on me?”
Paul paled at her words. “She could know that, that friend of yours works at the old whorehouse. She could have told her.”
Ann nodded. “Yes, that could have happened, but it didn’t. Would Echo know you jerked the air hose out of my mouth and drowned me in Hawaii?”
“Now, wait here a minute, lady. What are you accusing me of? You know that’s slander.” His words sounded commanding, but he began backing up the stairs.
“No, you wait. I know why you killed me. You killed me for money. You killed me because I wouldn’t let you sell the northern acres of the property because of the coal reserves there. But you figured out a way. I told you no then, and I meant it. I will not let you sell the rest of the ranch now, Paul, and I will not allow you to hurt my brother either.”
“B-but how—?” Paul’s voice broke.
“You caused it, Paul, you and your guilt. Remember when she offered her condolences at my funeral? She touched you and saw everything that happened.”
“That’s not possible.”
Ann shrugged. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, but here I am. And it’s really me.” She walked toward him. “Aren’t you going to welcome me home, my most darling of darlings?”
Paul’s eyes grew wide. “It is you! That’s what you’ve always called me!” Paul raced to the far end of the porch, bailed off the end, and ran for his car. Ann laughed at the top of her lungs as she watched him roar down the driveway past another car coming toward the house.
Let him run—what a coward! She walked down the steps and climbed into Echo’s car.
Exhausted, Ann leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.
“Echo! Are you all right?” Rand hollered as he pulled up beside her car and jumped out.
The sound of his voice calling Echo’s name sent Ann back to the depths of Echo’s mind, leaving Echo alone again.
“Yes—? Rand, what are you doing? Wh—where am I?” She looked around. The last thing she remembered was lying down on her bed because she had a pounding headache.
“I saw Paul race down the dirt road. He must have been going eighty. What happened?”
“I—I have no clue. How did I get out here, Rand?” She reached out to touch him. “Thank heavens you’re here.”
Rand leaned into the open door of the car and awkwardly drew Echo into his embrace. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. I love you too much ever to leave you. And Echo,” he whispered into her hair, “I believe you about there being ghosts roaming the hotel. I—I saw one.”
She pulled from his embrace. “You did? When?”
“Earlier. She’s the one who got my attention and sent me out here.”
A shiver ran through Echo, and she shuddered. “She?”
“Yeah, she. The angel of the night, in flesh and blood.” He stopped and chuckled. “Well, maybe not flesh and blood. But it was definitely one of them—showing lots of skin.”
“This is all too much for me. I’ve never really believed in this stuff, but now...?” Echo leaned in closer to him.
“I understand, Echo.” His eyes narrowed and a twitch began at the corners of his eyes. “I feel the same way. But if I’m going to see ghosts, I’m glad it’s an attractive one. Shouldn’t we get out of here? Can you drive?” Rand asked.
Echo shifted her weight to sit up straight, but her head spun, and she felt dizzy. Laying her head back on his shoulder, she shook her head. “Uh-uh. I’m way too dizzy, and I’m so tired. I wonder what happened between them?”
“Them?” Rand asked.
“Paul and Ann. They must have had a huge fight. My body feels like a battleground!”
“Scoot over, Miss Custer. I’ll drive you home and we’ll come back tomorrow to get my car. You probably shouldn’t drive by yourself feeling like that.”
Echo gingerly edged her way over in the seat as Rand moved behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. She laid her head back against the back of the seat and pulled her knees onto the seat.
“Rest now, sweetheart, while I get us home,” were the last words Echo heard as she drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
~ * ~
A LOUD NOISE ROUSED Echo from a deep, untroubled sleep. She ignored the sound, but it returned, only louder and more persistent this time. “Go away!” she mumbled into her pillow. This was the best sleep she’d had since Ann’s funeral. She could almost believe she was back to normal.
Her breath caught as she remembered last night’s ending. She could still feel Rand’s hands pushing back her hair, running his fingers through its thickness. He’d kissed both of her eyelids, then touched her nose with a soft butterfly kiss before capturing her willing lips with his demanding mouth.
Echo couldn’t stop the memories as they swept over her like a mist following a mountain ridge on a fall morning. Rand’s whispers of love. He loved her! Her heartbeat increased with excitement. She had been so afraid to hope, to pray that he would love her back. And he did.
She stretched sleepily across the silky sheets.
“Echo, open the door,” the voice called, sounding hurried and strained.
Alexis? “What do you want?” Her friend’s words brought her out of the haze, and she rolled over. Reaching out, she stroked the dented pillow and smiled at the rumpled covers where Rand had slept. A whiff of Rand’s scent greeted her as she moved her hand to her face. His aroma spread from the sheets to her skin and captured her in a fine web of desire.
“Just open the door.” Alexis’ voice sounded dejected, nearly forlorn. “Now, Echo! The police are here with me.”