Seduction of Souls, Page 2

  Sunlight streamed into the tiny window of the bathroom, waking Bryn, who took a deep cleansing breath to steady her nerves. Then shook RayeAnn awake.

  “What the…” RayeAnn looked around the bathroom and down at the tub. Her eyes widened as though she remembered what had happened last night. She grabbed Bryn’s hand and together they silently stepped out of the tub, clutching each other before turning the handle of the door and peeking through the tiny crack. RayeAnn had no idea what to expect, so she wasn’t taking any chances. After last night anything was possible. She paused and listened intensely before opening it all the way. The only thing out of place was the flying book from the night before still sitting on the floor of the hallway.

  Too afraid to touch it, RayeAnn nudged it gently with her toe, her body poised to run at the slightest sign of trouble. Bryn clutched her arm in a death grip, staying well behind her.

  “Ouch! Lighten up there, sister. It’s not going to bite you…at least I don’t think it will. Do you think I should pick it up?” She chewed her bottom lip nervously as she continued to stare down at the book.

  “Umm, I guess you should. I’m pretty sure Charity wants us to look inside and find out her history.”

  RayeAnn shook her hands nervously, trying to release some of the tension from her body and stalling for time. Taking a deep breath and holding it, she suddenly snatched the book up, holding it tightly to her chest. Step one accomplished. Now all she needed was the nerve to open it up. She let her breath out in a slow stream.

  “Well, so far, so good. Why don’t you make some coffee and I’ll start searching the book. The sooner we get this over with the better.”

  “Deal.” Bryn rushed out of the room at a dead run, not bothering to look back.

  Turning the brittle pages of the book slowly and carefully, she read each page thoroughly. Afraid the pages might crumble in her fingers, she wondered if she should be wearing gloves while looking through it. Some of the writing was too faded to read, but she was able to get the gist of most sentences well enough to gather the information she needed. Halfway through the book she found the name Charity Meriwether mentioned as a guest at one of the holiday parties at another home. Apparently her family was quite well off, her father a pillar of the community.

  Nothing further was mentioned of her for the rest of this registry. Rubbing her eyes, RayeAnn looked down at the now cold cup of coffee Bryn had brought her earlier. She put the book down, then crawled back to her room to grab a little more sleep. Except now sleep wouldn’t come with her mind whirling about with all the information she had just found. Resigned to her fate, she grabbed another registry and read the entries, smiling as the old pages crinkled when she turned them. She found nothing more about the illusive Charity Meriwether. On the plus side, she hadn’t found a death record with her name on it. It was silly to be relieved by that, since obviously the woman had died, or else how could she come back as a ghost and haunt Bryn and her?

  Okay, at what point had she begun to think of the haunting as being normal, as if it were a perfectly common occurrence not only for her but for Bryn, too. She ran as many possible scenarios through her mind as she could think of, rejecting them one after the other when she noted a flaw. When no answer came, she plotted her research plan of attack, making a list of reference books to check as well as getting her hands on a map of the area from that time period.

  What had started out as a fluffy, fuzzy little human interest article had now turned into a major research project. Great. Just what I don’t need, more work. But when she thought about the sadness in Charity’s eyes as she begged for help, RayeAnn knew she had no choice but to follow through. She forgot for the moment that she was supposed to be a hard hearted, facts only, investigative reporter clawing her way to the top. Right now she needed a little more shut eye, not more worrying about another ‘visit’ from her friendly neighborhood ghost. She lay back on the couch, too tired to drag herself back to her room, and she fell asleep immediately.

  CHAPTER 3

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  Frustration throbbed throughout RayeAnn’s body. Unable to locate any more records about Charity Meriwether, she now had to face the fact that it was time to throw in the towel. It went against everything she was about, but she had no choice. Neither she nor Bryn had heard a peep from their wayward ghost, and she needed to get back to a more productive and realistic story. She had managed to keep up with her work, but barely. That wasn’t the way she liked to do things. For her it was all or nothing. Now she had to opt for nothing. What other choice did she have?

  Pounding at the door of the apartment startled her out of her little pity party. She checked the peephole, then opened the door to a uniformed messenger from the same company she sometimes used.

  “Hi, may I help you?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I have a package for RayeAnn Trenton.”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Please sign here for the package.” He thrust a beat-up clipboard at her and waited for her to sign with the attached pen.

  These people never brought good news. She gave her shaky signature and passed the clipboard back to him, pausing to wipe her sweating palms on the front of her jeans before he could hand her the large manila envelope.

  “Thank you, ma’am. Have a good day.”

  She stood by the door, staring at the package, afraid to open it, yet not knowing why. Maybe just too many old clichés from the classic horror flicks. She loved the classic Bella Lugosi, Lon Chaney and Vincent Price films that she had watched over and over again as a child. Enough stalling. Open the stupid package.

  Because there was no return address on the envelope, she carefully opened it with the letter opener from her desk/kitchen table. Inside she found a letter size envelope, this time with a return address. Jonathon Chase, Esquire. The name sounded familiar, though she didn’t know why. What in the world would an attorney want with her? It wasn’t as if she’d done any scathing articles or slandered anyone. Quickly she scanned the short letter.

  Dear Ms. Trenton:

  I regret to inform you of the passing of your great-great-great Aunt, Juliet Meriwether Harvey on the tenth of October, 2011. From my conversations with Mrs. Harvey I am aware that you had no prior knowledge of her existence. Let me assure you she was a lovely, graceful woman, passing at the age of ninety eight peacefully in her sleep.

  At her request, she was buried in the family cemetery located on a remote parcel of her land, alongside her husband and other beloved family members. Her desire to remain secret to you until after her death remains a mystery.

  Since I find that you are the sole heir to her estate, I request that you contact me at my office at your earliest convenience.

  Again, please allow me to express my sympathies for your loss.

  Sincerely,

  Jonathon Chase, Esq.

  Stunned, she sat down with a thud onto one of the kitchen chairs. Well, in a way she had been right. It was bad news. The death of anyone, even someone she’d never met, was sad. She suddenly wondered why she hadn’t had to write an obituary for the woman. The attorney’s address was here in Cassidy, so it only made sense that her departed aunt had lived somewhere around here. Her parents had never once mentioned anyone else in the family. After she lost them in a car accident, she could have used a relative to care about her. Both of them were only children who had only one child, RayeAnn. Was it possible that even they didn’t know there was an aunt somewhere out there? Jeez, she didn’t even know which parent’s side of the family this aunt was from. Has to be a mistake. There must be quite a few RayeAnn Trenton’s in the world. Mr. Chase had surely chosen the wrong one. It would be an easy mistake to make, since she happened to live in the same town as the attorney.

  She decided to call him first thing tomorrow and let him know about the error. Smiling to herself, she thought about the old woman.

  Doing the math in her head, she realized that Juliet Harvey had been born in 1913. Wow, the thin
gs she must have seen in her lifetime. The new inventions alone would be mind boggling. Appliances, cars, phones, microwaves, television, music, movies, fashion, all of them constantly changing. What would it but like to watch traditions change before your very eyes? Or were the changes so gradual she’d barely even noticed them? How exciting to have lived all that history instead of reading it in a cold, dry history book. What she wouldn’t give to have been able to have a conversation with the lady before she died.

  It reinforced her belief in keeping a journal, which she had done religiously since the age of ten. There would be volumes upon volumes of history, her history, to leave for someone someday. Not that she had anyone special in her life, but there was always hope. Look at Gideon Meriwether, who, she had discovered, had been married three times. So there was still hope, but she certainly didn’t feel it in her heart. Well, regardless, she wasn’t going to just sit around and wait for true love to come knocking on her door. She decided to go up to the Blue Bull Inn and visit with Bryn, maybe hook up with someone she knew from college. Either way, she wasn’t going to just sit home on a perfectly good Saturday night.

  RayeAnn stood near the crowded bar, a ginger ale in her hand, and talked to one of her old neighbors from when she was a little girl. She remembered the woman as a teenager hired to babysit, one who usually allowed her to stay up an extra half-hour. Now she was a married woman with children of her own, still living in the house she was raised in so she could take care of her now elderly parents. How wonderful it must be to have three generations all living under the same roof, though she was sure it had its moments of utter chaos. Men’s shouting voices came from behind her. She had just turned to see what was going on when the ice cold liquid hit her square in the face. She inhaled sharply at the impact. God, this shit’s cold. Cold liquid dripped down her hair and face, soaking her silk blouse. She could feel her mascara running down her face, beating out her eye shadow by a nose. Speechless, she just stood there sputtering and smelling like a brewery. The laughter that followed snapped her from her trance and she ran to the bathroom, embarrassed and humiliated.

  She looked into the mirror, not really sure where to start the clean-up. She bent over and rinsed her hair and washed her face, then slapped the buttons of both hand drier machines. The blouse was ruined, dammit, and it was one of her favorites. When she straightened from the sink, Bryn shoved a clean towel into her hand.

  “Who did this to me? Do you know who it was?”

  “I don’t know the guy’s name, he’s only been in a couple of times before. Want me to go beat him up for you?” Bryn jumped up and down, fists raised, as she bobbed left and right like a boxer in the ring. She pretended to spit on the ground and wiped her nose with one of her dainty fists.

  Despite her anger, RayeAnn burst out laughing. Bryn was such a sissy, girly girl she wouldn’t hurt a fly. Which just made it that much funnier.

  “No thanks, this one I’ll take care of myself. Look at my blouse, it’s ruined.

  “Don’t whine. We’ll look online tomorrow and replace it. Figures that one of the few nights you come to visit me and you’re assaulted by a flying beer. I don’t know how to break this to you, but you have really lousy luck.”

  “What, you think I didn’t already know that? Story of my life, kiddo. I didn’t wear a coat tonight, so I’m just going to dry my blouse before I go home. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Thanks for the help and the towel.”

  “The least I could do to protect the Blue Bull Inn’s reputation.” She bowed deeply at the waist before heading out the door.

  After five minutes of doing the limbo under the hand dryer she finally gave up and walked out of the bathroom. A huge water stain decorated the front of her blouse. Before she could make it out of the door she was grabbed from behind by a large hand pulling her arm back.

  “Hi. I guess I’m the one who did that to you. Sorry. It was kind of an accident.”

  “How do you have ‘kind of an accident’? Wait, let me guess. You threw it in my face on a dare? Maybe as a joke? More likely both. Just let me go, I’m getting a crick in my neck having to look up at you like this. Only thing I can see from this angle is that you need a shave.”

  “No, really, I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

  “You know, I might have believed you if you hadn’t laughed at me not only when it happened, but the whole time you were supposedly apologizing. You’re an ass.” She jerked her arm out of his grasp, grateful now that she had worn the silk, and stormed out the back door. Tears stung her eyes as she searched for her car keys in her huge hobo bag. She had been the brunt of a cruel joke. The humiliation she felt kept the tears coming. She felt like she was back in high school with the mean girls, and she hated that feeling. She rushed out of the bar and headed straight for her car, her fingers trembled so much it took her three tries to get the key into the lock. Her unshed tears blurred her vision, so she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, started the car, and took off for home.

  Being so wrapped up in your own feelings wasn’t always a good thing. Sometimes it caused you to not notice some of the more important things in life. Like someone following you home.

  CHAPTER 4

  “RayeAnn, wait!” She froze in her shoes. Fear caused her stomach to drop to her feet.

  A very deep, masculine voice bellowed from the parking lot of her apartment complex, not a familiar voice, but very sexy none the less. She stopped and peered into the darkness, trying to make out the rather large figure approaching her. Once he passed under the light of the parking lot she recognized him. Shit. The asshole from the bar. How did he know my name?

  “Go. Home.” She said it with as much authority as she could muster before she took in the total look of him. All right, so he was tall. No, make that very tall, maybe six foot four, almost a foot taller than she was. His jet black hair hung over his collar, waving seductively on its way down his neck. He moved gracefully for a man as large and muscular as he was. His shirt stretched tightly across his pectoral muscles and arms. Vibrant blue eyes peered back at her through lush, long black lashes. Why do men always get the good eyelashes and hair? Too bad the guy is such a jerk.

  “Look, Mr. Throws- a-beer- at- innocent -women, just go away. It’s over. I’m sure it’s early enough that you can get back to the bar and find someone else to humiliate. I’ve already taken my turn.”

  Suddenly she found herself scooped up in his arms and being held tightly to his chest.

  “I just need to talk to you for a minute. Promise you won’t run off and I’ll put you back down.”

  “Umm, yeah, okay, sure. Put me down.” Humoring him might just work.

  “You’re lying and I’m not falling for it. I just wanted to explain. It wasn’t what you think. I was there with the group that I work with. This guy was getting pretty pushy with one of the women and I could see she was getting scared. I figured the easiest way to get rid of him was to ‘accidently’ spill my beer on him. As you know, that didn’t pan out very well. I just couldn’t stand the thought of you thinking I did it on purpose. I was laughing at myself when I apologized. I was embarrassed.”

  “Okay. Thank you for explaining it to me. Apology accepted. Can you put me down now?” She looked into his handsome face. Did she really want him to put her down?

  Immediately he set her gently on her feet.

  “How did you know my name or where I lived?”

  “Bryn at the bar told me your name,” he grinned, “so I followed you home.” His grin became a frown when he rubbed the back of his neck. “You mean to tell me you didn’t notice me following you?”

  “No, I had other things on my mind. Well, thanks for clearing everything up.” She turned to head into her apartment, thinking the conversation was over.

  “Hey, don’t you even want to know my name? How else are you going to tell everyone the whole story at work Monday morning?”

  “I work from home, and Bryn is my roommate, but I’ll ask, anyway.” S
he cleared her throat as if fine tuning an instrument. “Hey, what’s your name?”

  “Thank you kindly for asking. It’s Ryker Whitcombe, ma’am. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He made the motion of tipping an imaginary hat, like a good southern gentleman, adding a little twang to his words.

  “Nice name. Aren’t there any numbers after it? It sounds too snooty to just end at Whitcombe.”

  “Actually, it’s the fourth. You’re good. Most people would never make that leap.”

  “I do a lot of research, so it kind of comes naturally to me. Well, Mr. Ryker Whitcombe the fourth, I need to get inside before I freeze to death. See ya’ around the watering hole, partner.” She saluted smartly before dashing inside, shivering, but not sure if it was from the cold or her attraction to Ryker.

  “Goodnight.” The chuckle in his voice made walking away more difficult but very necessary.

  First thing Monday morning, she made a point of calling Jonathan Chase. She cursed quietly when she got his voicemail instead of a human. Leaving a message, she informed him of the mistake he’d made, hoping that would do the trick, so they wouldn’t have to play phone tag for the next week. Just in case, she left her cell phone number.

  By the time she finished up at the newspaper she had forgotten all about the message she’d left. Something was going on around the paper. She noticed small clusters of people whispering furiously amongst themselves. Every time she tried to get close enough to join in, the conversation abruptly ended. Frustration had her jumping to her feet and yelling out to the room. “Someone tell me what the hell’s going on! What’s all the whispering about?” She threw her hands up in the air only to bring them down on her desk with a loud thud. Suddenly the entire office staff was trying to work their way into her cubicle, everyone talking at once.