Chasing Rainbow

  “Lucy and Joe?” Murmurs passed through the crowd.

  Jake wanted to grind his teeth. Even as he was seriously beginning to wonder if Joe might have something to do with what was going on in his apartment, he didn’t like the idea of Rainbow telling the whole world. It seemed—well, he couldn’t say exactly what it seemed. Disrespectful, perhaps? Whatever, it bothered him. He didn’t want the whole building talking about his uncle this way.

  “But my dear,” Roxy said, “there might be more than two sources for the phenomena. This building is a veritable hotbed of psychic activity. There could be any number of things happening at once.”

  Rainbow shook her head firmly. “I’ve been through the entire building. It’s Lucy and Joe.”

  “It can’t be,” snapped Harvey Little. Forgetting he held the fern frond, he let go of it and it snapped back, hitting him in the face. He jumped, then stormed out from behind the plant. “It can’t be them!” he insisted. “They’re dead!”

  “Which is entirely the point,” said Roxy, undaunted. “How else would they be ghosts?”

  “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my life,” Little said sourly. “What a bunch of senile old fools you are.”

  Angry words of disagreement came his way from every direction, but he ignored them. “You’re a bunch of loonies, that’s all I have to say!”

  With that, he stomped his way to the elevators.

  Disapproving silence followed him until the elevator doors closed.

  “What a thoroughly disagreeable man,” Roxy said.

  “He certainly seems distressed by the idea that it could be Lucy and Joe,” Mary Todd remarked, “which seems like a rather strong reaction, when you consider he moved here only a couple of weeks before they died.”

  “I don’t think he’s reacting to their identity,” Gene said. “He just doesn’t like the idea of ghosts.”

  “I don’t fully agree with you,” Mary said. “The idea of ghosts is so much more … disturbing, if you know their identity.”

  “I’ll give you that,” Gene agreed.

  Jake would, too, but he didn’t say it. He had to admit, though, it would probably be easier to believe a strange ghost was putting furniture on his ceiling than that it was Joe.

  “The man needs to mellow,” said Slide Rule. “He’s going to give himself a heart attack.”

  Nerd spoke. “Could we please get down to business?”

  “Sure, man,” said Slide Rule. “Keep your shirt on.”

  “I wasn’t going to take it off.”

  Slide Rule rolled his eyes. “You know, man, you’re the kind of dude who, like, gives a bad name to engineers.”

  “No,” said the nerd, “you’re the kind who give us a bad name. Sloppy work, sloppy dress, sloppy language .. .”

  “Hang loose, man. I get the job done.”

  “So let’s get on with it. Now!”

  The engineers marched away with their bags of equipment—or rather, the nerd marched and the other two straggled along behind.

  Colonel Albemarle cleared his throat again. “Men,” he said, “I think it might be good to scout the building once more. And it would be wise to keep at least one Dustbuster turned on at all times.”

  “The batteries will run down, sir,” said one of his men, a short, stout guy with hair turned an interesting shade of green from dye.

  “Then we’ll run them one at a time, but see that at least one is turned on. We wouldn’t want any of the little buggers slipping around us.”

  They marched off and Jake turned to Rainbow, lifting an eloquent brow.

  She didn’t know how to respond. She thought that Colonel Albemarle was definitely out of touch with reality, but his delusion was harmless. Besides, facing the unknown, who was to say what would really work?

  Although in her experience with spirits, they really weren’t likely to be impressed by a vacuum cleaner, large or small.

  Roxy spoke. “Mustafa must be rolling on the floor with laughter.”

  “If there is a floor in heaven, Mother,” Dawn said.

  Roxy arched a plucked eyebrow at her. “I’m not at all sure he’s in heaven, Dawn.”

  Dawn’s eyes widened. “You don’t think he’s in the other place!”

  “Of course not! I wouldn’t associate with such types!”

  “But—”

  Roxy shook her head. “I’m convinced there must be some other place, a sort of halfway house for those spirits who still have business here.”

  Rainbow had trouble smothering a grin at the thought of a heavenly halfway house full of people who still wanted to make trouble on earth.

  Jake joined them, greeting Roxy and Dawn with a warm smile, and giving Rainbow a smoldering look that raised the lobby temperature at least ten degrees. Or so she felt, wishing she could fan herself.

  “The engineers will be at this for hours,” he said. “I’d invite you up to my place, but I’m not sure I still have anything to offer you to sit on.”

  “Why?” Rainbow asked. “Has something else levitated?”

  “God knows. I’m getting so I’m afraid to open my door and look. Last night an end table moved up to join the chair and lamp, complete with magazines and Joe’s pipes and tobacco.”

  “Oh, my!” said Roxy, her eyes alight. “This is so incredibly wonderful.”

  He gave her a wry look. “That’s a matter of opinion, Roxy.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s a major inconvenience for you, but it’s just so remarkable to see such a display.”

  “I’ll grant you that.”

  She favored him with an indulgent smile. “So you are coming around to our way of thinking.”

  “I’m rapidly getting to the point of believing almost anything if it will get the furniture off my ceiling!” He turned to Rainbow. “In fact,” he said, “I’d be very grateful if you’d come up to my place, Rainbow, and see if you can pick up any clearer impressions about what is going on.”

  Astonished, she simply stared at him.

  “Well, if she won’t do it, I will,” Roxy said.

  Dawn stepped down hard on her mother’s foot. “You weren’t asked, Mother. Let Rainbow go.”

  Comprehension dawned on Roxy’s face. “Ouch! Oh. Yes, of course.”

  Rainbow felt color stain her cheeks again. Drat! It had been such a long time since anyone had been able to make her blush the way Jake could with a simple look. She wanted to turn to her mother and defuse the moment by inviting her to come along, but Dawn intervened again.

  “We’ll just wait down here—won’t we, Mother?”

  “Yes, of course!” Roxy beamed at Jake and her daughter.

  “Thank you,” Jake said with remarkable composure, considering what had just been implied. “Rainbow?”

  She felt she ought to say no. The temperature was rising rapidly, and she didn’t think it was because the air conditioning had gone out. This man was dangerous to her, and she really ought to avoid him.

  “Yes,” she said, much to her dismay, and then felt a pleasurable shiver pass through her as he took her hand.

  Under the watchful eyes of the Towers residents and her family, he led her toward the elevator.

  “Yee-ha!” cried Joe with satisfaction. “It’s working, Lucy! It’s working!”

  Lucy nodded. “That part of it. But what about the rest, Joe? What about justice?”

  “I’m getting to that.” Joe propped his chin in his hand, beaming down on his nephew. “Ha!” he said again with delight. “The boy’s finally coming to his senses.”

  Or losing them,” Lucy said fondly.

  He grinned at her. “Losing them, then. It sure was ran, wasn’t it, Lucy?”

  A soft smile lighted her face. “It still is.”

  Joe’s expression softened and he reached out to take her hand. “You bet, Luce, you bet. I can’t imagine anything better.”

  She smiled and nestled her head on his shoulder. “Me, neither,” she said.

  “I’
m just sorry it took me so long to find you.”

  “It’s okay,” she told him. “We have forever now.”

  “Yep.” He glanced down at Jake, then decided to let the boy handle things himself. Right now, he just wanted to gaze into Lucy’s eyes and feel at peace with her and everything else.

  It just kept getting better and better, he thought, and sent a prayer of thanksgiving winging on its way.

  Better and better.

  Thirteen

  THE FURNITURE WAS STILL ON THE CEILING, BUT nothing new had been added, much to Jake’s relief. He closed the door behind them, then stuffed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t reach out and grab Rainbow.

  She walked into the middle of the living room and closed her eyes, clearly listening to her inner voices, or whatever they were.

  He didn’t know what he expected from her. If she started talking about Joe, chances were he wouldn’t believe her anyway. But he was rapidly getting to the point of being willing to take any help, no matter how outlandish, if it would just return his life to normal. If a witch doctor walked through the door right now, he would probably agree to drink some smelly repulsive green potion, if only it was promised to return reality to its usual parameters.

  Hell, he was getting to the point of sending for one of the witch doctors he’d met on his travels. They were all sensible men and women, usually exceptionally intelligent, and except for their rather strange theologies, utterly down-to-earth and practical.

  And so was Rainbow, he admitted to himself, as he watched her stand still and silent. Except for her belief in the paranormal, she was as bright and realistic a woman as he’d ever met.

  Maybe she wasn’t a crackpot, after all. Maybe the distance between him and her was no wider than the gulf between differing faiths.

  And there was always the possibility that she was right. Every time he looked at the furniture on his ceiling, he certainly had to wonder.

  He hadn’t yet closed the curtains, and sunlight was streaming through the windows. Beyond Rainbow he could see the cloudless blue sky and the small dark dots of seagulls on their perennial search for food. A pelican flew by, drifting on a thermal, looking prehistoric with its huge bill and immense wingspan. Unlike most birds of prey, pelicans had puppy-dog eyes, and this one seemed to be sadly glancing through the windows at the humans as it soared by.

  Rainbow turned toward him, giving him a rueful smile, and spreading her hands. “I can’t sense anything at all,” she said apologetically.

  “You mean Joe’s not here?”

  “Nobody’s here.”

  For some reason, that brought a huge smile to his face. “So we’re alone?”

  “Completely.”

  His smile broadened until his cheeks ached. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a while.”

  Her expression grew doubtful, and he felt he ought to reassure her somehow, but there didn’t seem to be any good way to do that when he was feeling such a strong urge to pounce.

  “Jake?” Her expression became concerned. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not a damn thing,” he said bluntly. In two long steps, he crossed the room to her. Looking down into her eyes, he felt as if the whole damn world could go hang and he’d never miss it. “I’m being overwhelmed by an urge to make a pass at you.”

  Her eyes widened, but not from fright, and he took heart. “That wouldn’t be wise,” she said, sounding breathless.

  “Hell, it’s never wise. But sometimes it’s totally irresistible.”

  She caught her breath and continued to stare up at him from wide, mossy-green eyes. God, her eyes reminded him of some of the jungles he’d visited, reminded him of the cool, dark places under the canopy of ancient trees, places where he’d always found peace.

  “Irresistible?” she repeated on a swiftly indrawn breath.

  “Irresistible,” he said, stepping closer so that they almost touched. “You’re irresistible.”

  “Oh …” She expelled the word on a soft sigh.

  Jake felt his heart leap as he realized he hadn’t offended her with his honesty. The irritating, cynical side of him remembered that if he was going to be honest, maybe he should be honest enough to admit that this was the woman who only a few short days ago he’d called a fraud and a swindler. It suggested he also ought to consider he was thinking with his small head rather than his large one.

  But the cynic got drowned in a sea of sensation as Jake stepped even closer to Rainbow. He saw a flare in her eyes, but he couldn’t tell what it was. All he knew was that she didn’t back away.

  She wanted this as much as he did.

  Exultation lifted him on a huge wave, and randomly firing cells in his brain summoned images of how she had looked earlier in that red maillot. Of how her breasts had looked as if she had risen like some mythical creature from the sea.

  The simple fact was, he wasn’t thinking at all. He was experiencing, feeling, reveling in the moment— and all he knew was that even as he stepped over the edge of the precipice, he had never felt freer in his life.

  She came into his embrace, warm, soft, and willing, her woman’s body molding to him as if she had been created for him. In an instant he tumbled heading and took flight.

  His mouth found hers, hot and wet. Their tongues met in an ancient mating ritual, and honeyed heat spread read through him, making him feel heavy and languorous.

  Fear stabbed him as his desire surged far more quickly than anything he had known before. This is more than he had bargained for when he had given in to the impulse to hold her and kiss her. Not since his youth had he been passion’s slave, and he felt a momentary panic as he realized he was on the edge of losing control.

  But not even panic could stop what he was feeling with Rainbow in his arms. He could no more let go of her now than he could have fought his way free of a riptide.

  Enthralled, he could only follow where need led rim.

  He felt her shiver against him and recognized it as a reflection of his own apprehension over what was happening, but then she melted even more closely to him, and he felt her arms close around his waist, holding him tightly, as if he were an anchor— as if she were afraid he might let her go.

  Her arms were small, slender, a woman’s gentle arms, but now they hugged him close with surprising strength, and he felt something in him respond in the same way a plant responded to rain. He needed this. God, it had been so long since a woman had held him as if she really wanted him, and the wonder that filled him was as strong as the passion that drove him. He needed her.

  Needing her, and giving in to his need, he let his body seek all that it wanted. His hands wandered from her back to her waist, then down to her softly rounded bottom, where they took hold, lifting her into him, holding her as close as he could get her to the cradle of his hips.

  The rhythm that was pounding in his blood was echoed in his hips as he pressed himself to her again and again. Each press of his body to hers was sheer torture and sheer delight. He began to resent the layers of clothing that separated them, wanted to rip away the zipper of his slacks that bit into him each time he rubbed against her.

  Somehow—he was never quite clear how it happened—they were lying on the couch, she beneath him, he between her thighs. He could feel her hips responding to the rhythm of his, arching upward, as if she wanted more and more of him.

  Her shirt came untucked, and as if it had a mind of its own, his hand slid up beneath it. When his fingers crossed the smooth, warm skin of her midriff, he felt as if electric shocks were leaping from her through him to his groin. Had a woman’s skin ever felt more wonderful?

  But then his hand found her breast, covered in something silky. She filled his palm and against it he could feel the hardening point of her nipple. Perfect. She was perfect. Gently he squeezed her, and she moaned in response, arching sharply against him and telling him just how much she liked his touch.

  Gently, gently, he rubbed his palm over her, enjoying the sounds she ma
de, enjoying the way she felt to him, loving the way she bucked against him, every bit as needy as he.

  More. He needed more. He needed everything, and he needed it with Rainbow.

  His pulse was loud in his ears. He could hear nothing but its rapid hammering and the gasping sounds of his breath—her breath?—could feel nothing but the yielding, yearning softness of Rainbow beneath him.

  He ground himself against her, forgetting finesse in his absolute need. Her fingers dug into his back, biting through his shirt, goading him onward.

  “Jake…”

  He thought he heard her sigh his name. The sound seemed to reach across the ages from a time he couldn’t remember except as a feeling. As if he had been searching through lifetime after lifetime for this one voice, this one woman …

  Then, all of a sudden, he felt he was being patched. A chilly trickle of uneasiness ran through him, cooling him a little. Just enough that he was suddenly conscious of who he was, who she was, and what they were doing.

  He had a horrifying, humiliating image of himself acting like a rutting animal, springing upon a man he hardly knew and doing things with her that… well…

  He lifted his head, dragging in a ragged gasp of air and looking down at her, hoping she didn’t feel die same embarrassment. He would never forgive himself if he had humiliated her by his behavior.

  Her green eyes opened slowly, hazily, and looked at him questioningly. And then, as he watched, full awareness returned and painful color flooded her cheeks. She closed her eyes and turned her face away.

  “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

  He didn’t know what to do. For the first time in nearly twenty years, he was totally at a loss. His body was aching, throbbing, demanding surcease, but his mind was screaming that if he didn’t stop now, she was going to hate him and he was going to hate himself.

  But there didn’t seem to be any graceful way out.

  He drew another couple of ragged breaths, trying to kick-start his brain into some semblance of working order. Heat was still pooled in his groin, and it wouldn’t take much to send him over the edge again. He held himself stiffly, afraid that the least little movement would be more than he could bear.