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Don't do it, Jeannie, don't do it! He pleaded silently.
"Not one of you has suggested coming up to see if there is something in the room," Jeannie said indignantly.
Matt lifted his hands. "I'll go up to the room."
He strode past the newlywed couple on the stairs. As he neared the upper landing, he could hear Roger whispering angrily to his wife. "Ghost, h.e.l.l! You're a little exhibitionist. You've had a bit of a thing for Matt Stone your whole life, you know, Jeannie. What, you just had to have an excuse for him to see you naked?"
"Roger Thomas! How dare you suggest such a thing, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" she whispered back. Then her voice rose. "We don't need the caretaker's house! I'm going home. Home-back to my family. They're not a bunch of idiot jerks!"
"Hey, there!" Penny protested cheerfully. "You know, everyone is really tired, but we'll get to the bottom of this. Matt, he's all he- man practical and doesn't believe in ghosts, but I'm telling you, Roger, don't you go being hard on your new missus! Lots of folks believe that this house is more than a little haunted, I do tell you!"
Matt walked on into the Lee room. As he suspected, there was nothing there. The French doors to the balcony were open, and the drapes were drifting in. They must have been what scared the new bride so badly. Either that, or she just wanted the place to be haunted so badly that she had made it so.
He found Jeannie's peignoir robe, then discarded it as being far too see-through for this situation. Her groom would not be happy with it, he was certain. Striding to the closet, he found a pair of robes with "Melody House" inscribed on the pockets-items Penny had insisted they needed to provide a real luxury touch for those few times when he decided to rent the room. He pulled one from the hanger and headed back downstairs.
By then, Penny, Jeannie, and Roger had headed into the kitchen. It was vast. The integrity of the historical aspects had been maintained with ma.s.sive hearth and the many copper pots and herbs that adorned wall mounts, but the huge refrigerator, sub-zero freezer, and stainless steel stove were all necessary modern conveniences for the many social events, dinners, luncheons, and meetings that were held at the property.
The newlyweds were seated at the table with Penny. She had apparently moved like lightning, microwaving water and hurriedly supplying brandy, because they were all sipping out of huge earthenware mugs already.
They had been joined there by several of the other residents of the property, probably all awakened by the screaming. Matt's cousin Clint, who, like Penny, lived in one of the apartments above the stables, was seated at the table. Clint's eyes flashed with humor as they met Matt's. Sam Arden, the caretaker, old, thin, and crusty, his white hair wild, was at the table as well. He shook his head and rolled his eyes when he saw Matt. Rounding out the group was Carter Sutton. He was actually an old college friend of Clint's from the next town over. He owned a lot of local property, and had just bought a house nearby. Since it was still being held hostage by construction workers, he'd also taken a room over the stables. It worked well. Carter made his living off his investments, and was sometimes "paper rich and cash poor," so he was happy to look after the horses and serve as stableboy and trail guide when they rented out the horses.
Matt silently offered the robe and walked around to take a seat at the end of the table. Penny was happily talking about ghosts.
Roger was convincing his wife that there had been nothing there at all, other than the excitement of the day.
"And if there was a ghost, it was probably more scared than you," Clint a.s.sured the bride.
"h.e.l.l, there are ghosts," Sam said sagely, nodding his old head.
"Sam," Matt protested.
"She meant to hurt me!" Jeannie said with certainty.
"I don't think that ghosts are supposed to hurt people," Carter said. His mustache twitched. He was as bearded as a goat, since he enjoyed a high military position in the "Rebel" unit in which he partic.i.p.ated in many battle reenactments.
"She meant to hurt me," Jeannie repeated.
"I've slept in that room," Clint said, "and honestly, nothing ever happened to me."
"I know the Lee room like the back of my hand," Carter teased. "It holds the fondest memories in my heart," he told the bride with a wink.
She flushed and laughed uneasily.
"Matt," Penny said, "there's a cup of strong tea for you right there, end of the table."
"Thanks," he said. "I'll reheat it in a bit I'm going to get a few things out of the caretaker's cottage, so you two can slip on over when you want."
"Hey, Mr. Stone, I... I don't want to put you to any more trouble," Roger said.
"I can't sleep in this house!" Jeannie wailed.
"It's no trouble," he a.s.sured them both.
All he wanted to do right then was get out-he didn't think he could bear to hear another of Penny's speeches on ghosts. He allowed her, on Friday and Sat.u.r.day nights, to give a "Legends of Melody House" tour, during which she liked to go on and on about various stories involving the house, and how it was rumored to be haunted by different characters, including historical figures.
He had adamantly refused to let her call it a ghost tour. But since she did attract dozens and dozens of paying tourists, people staying as diversely far away as Williamsburg, Richmond, Harpers Ferry, the mountains, and even D.C., he had to allow the endeavor. She served cider, tea, cookies, and pastries in the middle of the tour, and he knew that she was right-they paid a whole lot of bills thanks to those tours. He still didn't like them, or anything that suggested that Melody House was really haunted. However, he tolerated it all, for the sake of the house.
"Go on, Matt-we'll keep them entertained for you," Clint told him laconically. Matt arched a brow. Clint could be openly lascivious. He had surely enjoyed the spectacle of the bride, wrapped in the antique quilt and nothing more.
"Thanks," Matt said dryly, and left them all to their arguments on whether there was or wasn't a ghost.
An hour later, he was moved back into his room at the main house, and he and Penny and Roger had packed up the newlyweds, who were now happily settled in the caretaker's cottage. Penny returned to her apartment over the stables.
Matt had barely gotten back to sleep before he heard a ringing sound. He fumbled around to turn off his alarm, but it was the phone instead. One of his officers was on the other end, anxiously urging him to get moving; they had a domestic violence situation threatening to turn explosive.
Matt hurriedly dressed, his thoughts half on the night gone by, and half on the day to come. There it was-the truth again. As his dad had once told him, when he had s.h.i.+vered at the sight of an old cemetery, the dead were the safest people around.
It was the living you had to watch out for.
SINK YOUR TEETH INTO.
VAMPIRE ROMANCES.
FROM SHANNON DRAKE.
Realm of Shadows Deep Midnight When Darkness Falls Beneath a Blood Red Moon
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SHANNON DRAKE is a pseudonym for New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham. She lives in South Florida, where she grew up, with her husband Dennis, five children, and their cats and dogs. After majoring in Fine Arts at the University of South Florida, she performed in dinner theater and bartended until her third son came along, at which time she turned her love of entertainment into a writing career. She enjoys travel, books, music, theater, movies, and everything to do with the water, especially scuba diving. She remains ever grateful to be able to tell stories for a living.