Haunted (6 page)

There was a knock at the door and the sounds of guests being ushered into the foyer. Devon wondered where they’d come from, as he hadn’t heard the helicopter. The fire had burned down considerably, and he was wondering if the staff were going to stoke it up. It was cold in this place, that was for sure.

“Madame Amelia!” the butler announced, sweeping open the door. A small woman of indeterminate age swept into the room. Her dress was made of dark purple taffeta and it rustled as she moved. Her waist was so tiny that he knew she was corseted tightly, but her features were lost in the yards of black lace wrapped around her face. She wore black lace gloves and carried a fan of peacock feathers, which she snapped and flicked open, holding it up to her face as well.

“Oh, the vibrations in this room are very powerful!” she said, fluttering her fan as she entered the room. One of the women giggled, but her partner placed his hand upon her and she fell silent. Madame Amelia’s approval of the supposed vibrations was more than clear, although the way she moved reminded Devon of a bird.

He wondered how they were going to fake the presence of a ghost.

A black man in plain dark clothes followed her, obviously a servant, and Devon was surprised to see that the man had green eyes. He carried a case, like a hatbox, and at the butler’s nod, set it on one end of the sideboard. He opened it with care as Madame Amelia floated around the room whispering of vibrations, then removed a large crystal ball from within its depths. The ball was fixed to a dark base, and he gave Devon a look, evicting him from the head place at the table. Once Devon moved away, the servant placed the crystal ball on the table and held the chair for his mistress.

Madame Amelia fluttered to his side. “Careful, Rex! Careful!” She ran her gloved hands over the ball, as if to reassure herself that it was undamaged.

A crystal ball. Seriously. Devon fought the urge to roll his eyes. Stapleton brought another chair and put it on one side of the chick Devon got to bang. The guy who had come with her didn’t seem to approve of that, but Devon didn’t care. He tucked the chair in close, stole a look down her cleavage and felt his anticipation rise.

Madame Amelia had already turned to the other couples. “I am the great Madame Amelia!” she declared, as if to invite applause.

“I’m Caitlyn,” the beauty said. The other couples also introduced themselves, leaving only the guy with Devon’s babe.

“Zach,” he contributed tightly.

The occasion seemed to demand more of a flourish than that. Devon bowed low over the new arrival’s hand. “Devon, and I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Madame Amelia.”

“I am certain that you are,” she said, then spun away. “This room is filled with an energy that is undeniable.” She extinguished the candles on the table as she spoke, blowing them out one at a time. The butler visibly flinched when wax spilled on the table, and Devon saw that there was a candle snuffer on the buffet. Madame Amelia didn’t seem to have noticed it, because she kept blowing out candles with gusto. There were still candles lit on the sideboard, and the gas sconces burning on the opposite wall. Then she raised her hands high. “I sense the presence of those from beyond, and their desire to communicate with us.”

As the room became darker, the sound of the rain falling against the windows seemed to be louder. It felt colder, too, as if the wind was slipping into the room. Devon could practically feel it swirling around his ankles. He shivered, hoping they cranked up the heat before he got naked with Caitlyn.

Caitlyn was watching Madame Amelia with obvious fascination, while Zach was eying the peacock feather fan with a smile. For some reason, his gaze darted to that of the black servant, who seemed to bite back an answering smile before he averted his gaze.

Did they know each other?

Or did they
want
to know each other?

If Zach was gay, that would explain his disinterest in Caitlyn very well.

Madame Amelia stood at the head of the table and threw up her hands. “The spirits are gathering!” she cried. “The voices from beyond demand our attention!”

There was a glowing swirl inside the crystal ball that hadn’t been there before. Devon thought he was imagining it, but the pale green light grew steadily brighter and the swirl spun more quickly.

“Let us welcome their tidings!” Madame Amelia declared. “We must make a sacred circle to welcome them!” She cast her fan onto the table and reached imperiously for the hand of the man at her left. The group joined hands in the shadowed room and the woman giggled again.

Madame Amelia’s tone turned imperious as she glared down the table at Caitlyn. “Now, the lady must complete the circle, and we will invoke the presence of the spirits.” Caitlyn took Devon’s hand and he felt a little frisson of energy that startled him. Was there power in the circle? Or was he just responding to her touch? That had never happened to him before.

Madame Amelia tipped back her head and closed her eyes. “Spirits! If you are here and wish to speak with any of us, give us a sign of your presence!”

To Devon’s amazement, the light in the crystal ball blazed neon green. The remaining candles and the sconces were extinguished as one by a sudden gust of wind in the room. The woman giggled again, but she sounded more shrill than before. The blaze on the hearth was extinguished in the same moment. Devon might have complained about the cold, but the light in the crystal ball began to throb.

It was mesmerizing.

It was weird.

What was even more weird was that a mist emanated from the open mouth of Madame Amelia. One of the other guys swore softly and they all stared in horror as the mist formed into the shape of a guy floating over the table.

Not just any guy, either. It was the image of the guy who he was supposed to impersonate.

“Luke!” Caitlyn cried with amazement. She’d turned pale and looked like she was going to faint. Zach watched her with concern.

“Do not break the circle,” the black servant intoned. “Or Madame Amelia will be lost.”

Zach looked between the servant and the vision, his consternation clear.

“Caitlyn,” the vision whispered, his hoarse voice carrying from every corner of the room. “Caitlyn, I’m burning for you. Help me, Caitlyn…”

Devon didn’t know how the hell they did it, but it was a helluva show.

And it was just the introduction he needed. He stifled his smile, thought about the key to Caitlyn’s room in his pocket, and knew that neither of them would be getting any sleep tonight.

* * *

Athena was just heading up to dress for a late dinner with Julius when the phone rang in the office of The Phoenix. She debated the merit of answering, then considered that Julius might have been delayed. Her cell phone was upstairs, so if he’d tried that number first, his call would have gone to voice mail.

“Hello?”

“There’s a problem,” Steele said, his voice low as if he feared someone might overhear his call.

“I’m not talking to you…” Athena began.

“Then don’t talk,” Steele snapped. “You have to
listen
, though.”

“I don’t have to do anything…”

“Someone in your office was checking out an actor named Devon Nelson,” Steele continued, ignoring her protest.

“I don’t have to tell you…”

“No, you don’t, but there’s a lot you didn’t find about this guy. He’s not who you think he is. We just found the real Devon Nelson in a chest freezer, and it looks like he’s been there a while.”

“No,” Athena said softly, even though she believed Steele. She sat down hard.

“Why were you checking him out? Did you hire him?”

Athena thought for about four seconds before she answered. “He’s part of a fantasy fulfillment,” she admitted. “On Windswept.”

Steele swore with a vehemence she didn’t expect. “I knew it!” he muttered, then continued in a savage tone. “This guy is an identity thief, looking for a place to lie low for a while.”

Athena gripped the phone. “Which Devon Nelson applied to us?”

“When did you get the application?”

Athena went straight to the files. “A month ago.”

“Then it was our boy. The real Devon was dead by then.” Steele cleared his throat. “Athena, this guy is a forger, a thief and a killer, wanted in five countries under twice as many names.”

And he was on Windswept.

With Rex.

Athena found herself shaken. “You’re just getting even with me,” she argued, because she didn’t want this to be true

“I’m breaking a whole bunch of protocol to warn you,” Steele retorted. “Look, there would have been clues for someone who looked carefully. This guy is good at hiding himself, but I’ve never seen anyone as good as Amy. Didn’t you take her back? Her skills are what you need to defend yourself against this kind of thing.”

“She’s being disciplined,” Athena admitted softly. “By having no computer.” She winced when Steele swore again.

“And now there’s a storm over the Atlantic. They’ll have grounded all the small helicopters.” His frustration was audible. “Who’s on the island? Anyone you can contact? You have to have a security contingent. Rex thinks of everything.”

Athena bristled a little at that. “Of course, but Rex is there, with Amy. She had a scheme to make someone’s dream come true and Rex wanted to watch.”

Steele dropped his voice. “This guy likes to kill, Athena. You might be making an unexpected fantasy come true.”

“I’ll call.”

“I’ll come over.”

“No.” Athena stood. “There’s nothing you can do before tomorrow. I’ll let you know if I don’t talk to Rex.”

“But Athena…”

“I appreciate your warning, Steele, but this doesn’t change anything. You still betrayed my trust.”

“Can’t I earn it back?”

“It’ll be harder than this.”

Steele sighed. “Just call. We’ll talk about it later.”

Maybe. Maybe not. Athena’s fingers were shaking as she hit the autodial for the island’s control center, and she drummed her fingers as the phone rang. “Get Rex,” she said, not bothering to state her name. Her voice would be recognized. “Get Rex and get him
now
.”

* * *

Holy fuck.

Amy didn’t know what to say. She was in the rooms hidden at the back end of the manor house, facing a very grim Rex.

These hidden rooms didn’t keep up the illusion of the island. There were phones here, landlines mostly, computers and sensors. Screens displaying the footage from hidden cameras throughout the house lined one wall, and casually dressed staff monitored all of it. There was a low murmur of conversation as fantasies were tracked and the safety of guests was assured.

Now there was one very big screw-up in progress, and it was hers.

It was beyond belief that her success in earning back Rex’s trust hinged upon the actions of a psychopath and multiple offender. It was infuriating that after her sound and light show had gone so flawlessly everything was in the shitter.

Rex was taut with a displeasure that didn’t bode well for her future.

The head of security on the island, a taut athletic woman named Dagmar, had invited herself to the conversation. She didn’t say anything, but her gaze flicked between Rex and Amy, her attention as sharp as a knife.

“How did Steele find out?” Amy asked, although she knew the answer.

“I don’t know,” Rex said with frustration. “Does it matter?”

Amy heard the condemnation in his voice and knew this was her last chance to take charge of her destiny. “Actually, it does,” she insisted, to his visible surprise. “If Steele found the trail,
I
would have found it. I probably would have found it
sooner
, because I would have been doing a background check on this guy, instead of pushing around a bunch of paper files and trying to make miracles happen.”

Staff looked up from their monitors, unable to hide their interest in the conversation any longer.

Rex’s lips thinned. “You’re not going to say it’s my fault for not letting you use a computer.”

“No.” Amy waited a beat, knowing the power of timing. “I’m going to say it’s your fault for denying me access to the Internet. You’ve kept me from doing what I do best, and now everything is at risk.”

“He doesn’t have all the keys…”

“Yes, he does.” Amy saw Rex’s shock. “He demanded them, and since he’s a paying client fulfilling the fantasy of another, I gave him a passkey.”

Rex’s eyes flashed. “That’s your mistake.”

Dagmar stepped between them. “Enough talk. We have to contain this guy and we have to do it now. You can argue about the blame later.”

“Agreed,” Rex said.

Dagmar held a finger to her ear and Amy realized she was wearing a slender headset. “Put up the display from the heat sensors in the attic, please? Let’s locate him and begin to seal him off.”

“You can do that?” Amy asked.

“The entire house was designed to deal with the worst case scenario.” Dagmar was resolute. “A killer loose in the house with a passkey is pretty close.”

“He’s moving,” said one of the staff, pointing to a monitor. “He’s headed for her room.”