Ghost of a Promise (5 page)

“
Ava,
”
the bartender called, waving them over.

Ava grinned at the man and again his gut shifted. Damn great smile that woman had. She made her way over and introduced everyone.

Joe, the happy bartender and owner, was round and ruddy, about forty or so, with red cheeks and a deep voice.
“
You
’
re those folks from TV. The ghost program, eh?
”

“
We are.
”
He waited for the questions or skepticism or gushing adoration that always followed. None came.
“
Great place you
’
ve got here.
”

If possible, the man
’
s grin widened.
“
Thank you. Take a seat anywhere and I
’
ll send Brianna right over.
”

They walked into the back room and pushed a few tables together along the windows to make room for them all. A waitress appeared in seconds. She set down three baskets of fresh sourdough bread on their tables.

“
Hey, Brianna.
”
Ava introduced the crew once again.

Brianna
’
s eyebrows lifted.
“
No way. You guys are investigating the Trumble place?
”

They nodded.

“
Good luck to you. That place is creepy with a capital C. No offense, Ava.
”

Ava
’
s smile didn
’
t falter.
“
None taken. What
’
s the soup today?
”

Brianna pulled a pad out of her apron.
“
New England clam chowder. Daddy just caught the clams this morning. The special is crab cakes with asparagus spears.
”

They ordered drinks and perused the menu before Brianna took their order and walked away.

He leaned back.
“
You don
’
t seem bothered she thinks your mansion is creepy.
”

Ava shrugged.
“
Everyone thinks the house is creepy. It
is
creepy.”
She laughed, a rich, lovely sound, and crossed her arms over the table
’
s edge.
“
At least they don
’
t think
I’m
creepy.”

How could they? Look at her. She was the embodiment of warm welcome.

With the rest of the crew farther down the table and engaged in their own chatter, Paul, Sammy, and Jackson slipped easily into conversation with Ava.

“
So, where would be the best place for me to start tomorrow?
”
Paul pushed his glasses up.

Her small, pouting mouth twisted.
“
Definitely the library. You
’
ll find newspaper archives. Ask for Fran. She
’
ll help you. The Historical Society
”—
her smile fell
—“
has some information. The Hansens run that. My mother owns a knitting and craft shop in town. You
’
ll find most of the gossips there if you want a good story.
”

Jackson, enjoying her voice, took a sip of his ale. Kerrick sounded ideal.

His chest filled with envy. After a childhood traveling from London to Denver and back again, and after five years on
Phantoms
never staying in one spot, he wanted what Ava had here. A home, not just an apartment somewhere he never saw. The same place to go to every day, where everyone knew you, and not from television. The realization kept him silent while the others chatted. He’d never entertained the idea of settling down, so why now?

Their soup came, and he dug into his clam chowder, starving. “
Wow. This is spectacular.
”

“
Isn
’
t it?
”
Ava said.
“
It
’
s Joe
’
s mother
’
s recipe, and he won
’
t share.
”

“
You like to cook?
”

She nodded.
“
It relaxes me. I work with numbers most of the day, so making a meal is a great way to unwind.
”

“
You said you work from home?
”
He finished his soup. By far the best chowder he
’
d ever had.

“
I have a business degree, but I mostly do bookkeeping for some of the shops in town. I also help them reorganize if there
’
s a need and set up a business plan for tourism. What I really want to do is turn Trumble mansion into a bed and breakfast.
”
Her gaze drifted to the window.
“
I can
’
t if we don
’
t find something on Sarah Kerrick.
”

Before he could reassure Ava that they
’
d try, Paul leaned forward and set his palm over her hand.
“
We
’
ll find something. I
’
m sure of it.
”

She offered Paul a weak smile that didn
’
t reach her eyes.
“
Where are you from?
”

“
Philly. My family
’
s still there.
”

“
Ah, ergo the love of history.
”

“
Hard not to in that city.
”
Paul nudged his empty bowl away.

“
What about you, Jackson?
”
Ava shifted those gray eyes to him.
“
What
’
s with the fake accent?
”

Sammy barked out a laugh.

He narrowed his eyes.
“
Not fake, luv. I travel from England to the States often enough. It comes natural.
”

“
Uh huh,
”
she said, dripping with the same snark from earlier.

He loved sass of any kind. It meant there was fire and determination. Those who had the quality went after what they wanted. Something he admired greatly, because he never did know what he wanted, never mind how to go after it.

Brianna brought out their meals and asked if they needed anything else before leaving them to it. The crab cakes on his plate were hot and thick and smelled like heaven.

Sammy nudged his foot under the table. She batted her eyelashes at him, letting him know he
’
d been staring at Ava with googly eyes.

Ava must have seen, because her gaze was questioning.
“
Are you two a thing? You look more like siblings.
”
She brought a bite of crab cake to her mouth and he forced his gaze away.

Sammy grinned.
“
We get that a lot. Jackson is my best friend. No relation. No romance.
”

Yeah, the sister he never wanted. He loved her dearly anyway. Most of the time.

Moot point anyway. He had a thing for redheads with snark and a fiery temper.

At least he did now.

Chapter Five

Upon returning to the house, Tom and Earl decided to head upstairs to bed, which sounded good to Ava. Maybe a hot bath first.

Kerry suggested watching
Phantoms
on TV.

“
That
’
s right,
”
Amir said.
“
It
’
s Monday. Tonight
’
s the Lizzy Borden house, isn
’
t it?
”

“
Yep,
”
Kerry affirmed.
“
Last episode before the two-part finale.
”

Tom called down to Jackson from the top of the stairs, his voice frantic. They all followed his voice to the second floor landing where one of the stationary cameras was on its side.

“
What happened?
”
asked Jackson.

Tom shrugged.
“
It was like this when we got up here. Your bedroom door is closed.
”

They looked, and sure enough, the door was closed. This wasn
’
t unusual, at least not to Ava, but the rest of the crew seemed excited.

“
Let
’
s check the digital recording,
”
Terrance yelled from halfway down the stairs, not waiting for anyone else.

By the time they all made it to the dining room and gathered around the monitor, Terrance was rewinding for playback.

“
There.
”
Jackson
’
s eyes were trained to the screen.

The camera was positioned closest to the stairs to get a view of the whole hall. It looked like a still picture until the camera wobbled, teetered, and fell straight down. Seconds later, Jackson
’
s bedroom door closed on the top of the screen.

A long silence filled the room.

“
Does anyone have a key to the house?
”
Jackson asked.

“
My parents do, but even if the house were on fire, they wouldn
’
t come. Besides, I turned on the alarm when we left.
”

“
Any pets? A cat?
”
This from Sammy.

“
No. Just me.
”

“
Maybe we should start investigating tonight,
”
Sammy said to Jackson.

He shook his head.
“
Let
’
s stick to the routine. We
’
ll keep on the still cameras tonight and do the history and debunking tomorrow.
”

“
Debunking?
”
Ava asked.

Amir looked up from the monitor.
“
We take the claims people give us and try to debunk them, or find an alternate reason than paranormal. Like doors closing because of a draft or hearing footsteps could just be the house settling.
”

Her respect for
Phantoms
just upped a notch.

“
I
’
ll go fix the camera on the landing,
”
Terrance said.
“
I
’
ll meet you guys in the living room. We
’
ll get our
Phantoms
groove on.”

Seemingly appeased, everyone commenced to the living room, where Amir had switched on the TV. Ava found it amusing they liked to get together to watch their show. You
’
d think they
’
d be sick of it. She said as much.

Sammy shrugged.
“
We
’
re on location for two to four weeks. We never know what they
’
re going to air or cut. It
’
s neat to see the final product.
”

She sat between Jackson and Amir on the couch.
“
I
’
ve never seen the show.
”

A collective
“
What?
”
radiated from everyone.

She clasped her hands.
“
I don
’
t watch much TV. And, personally, I get enough ghosts living in this house.
”

The show began, so she watched, all too aware of how close Jackson was. Her arm and his were near enough his heat and scent tantalized her. Something like a cross between mint and lemon. The fine hairs on his arms were black, like the hair on his head. He had large hands, too, which, at the moment, were relaxed on his knees. She’d bet he could do a lot of glorious things with those hands.

Terrance walked into the room and sat on the floor.
“
Camera
’
s back on the tripod.
”

“
Shh,
”
Kerry admonished.
“
We
’
re about to watch the part where you wet yourself.
”

“
Man, I did not.
”

Ava smiled and watched the show. Kerry and Sammy were in an attic at the Lizzy Borden house, trying to get an EVP. The camera panned to Terrance and Amir watching the monitors from another room. Terrance flew from his chair and grabbed a walkie-talkie.

“
Girls, behind you. The rocking chair.
”

The camera showed Sammy and Kerry looking at each other, then slowly turning. Music built up the tension, making Ava’s heart pound. The rocking chair was moving so fast it looked like it might tip. Just as the girls
’
mouths dropped, the station went to commercial.

“
That was awesome,
”
Sammy said.
“
Did you see his face? Priceless.
”

“
And as you can clearly see, I did
not
wet myself. I’
ve got skills.
”

Sammy and Kerry broke out into laughter, falling into each other on the love seat. Jackson and Paul shook their heads.

She liked how they interacted. They teased each other and knew one another so well, but they also had each other
’
s back. No one investigated alone. By the end of the show, she noticed they didn
’
t just investigate at night and asked why.

Jackson turned his head, his face so close their noses nearly brushed. He cleared his throat.
“
If you listen to the pre-interviews, not all claims happen at night. One of the other suspicions is ghosts draw from energy to manifest. So by alternating day and night investigations, we can sometimes get better results.
”

Made sense. He started to say something else, but her pulse was pounding too loud to hear him. He had the most amazing mouth. Firm lips. She wondered if he could knock her into next week with one kiss. Yeah, probably. Part of her wouldn’t mind either. What would be so bad about letting him rock her world? Hell, her blood was boiling.

She stood.
“
I
’
m tired. Night, guys. I
’
ll see you in the morning. Help yourself to whatever you need.
”

Jackson rose.
“
Me too. Big day ahead.
”

Subtle. Really subtle.

If she didn’t get some distance from him, she might just climb his body and
…

All too aware of him behind her on each step, she turned to face him on the second-floor landing, her height putting them nearly eye to eye.
“
I don
’
t need a chaperone. I
’
ve lived here for many years. The ghosts won
’
t hurt me.
”

He flashed a wicked grin, as if he knew just where her thoughts were, and it had nothing to do with ghosts.
“
Maybe I
’
m scared. Maybe I need a chaperone.
”

She feigned disinterest, hard as it was.
“
Does that work on all the ladies?”

He leaned in close and her face heated as his breath caressed her cheek. Warm and intimate. His mischievous blue eyes were half closed. She could count every beat of her rapid heart. Slowly, she forced air into her lungs and waited. If he closed the distance, she knew he’d kiss her senseless, probably knocking them both down the stairs with the force of this insane chemistry.

“
Maybe it has nothing to do with chaperones, Ava, luv. Perhaps I
’
m just tired too.
”

Darn him!

He straightened. She exhaled the pent-up breath she’d been holding. He disappeared into his bedroom and she wished the ghosts slammed the door on him this time. Skin still tingling, she stomped up the stairs to her suite.

…

The sound of Ava’s feet padding down the stairs outside his bedroom before the sun had even come up woke him. Jackson glanced at his cell on the nightstand, which read five a.m.

Though the night proved uneventful paranormal-wise, he didn’
t catch many winks. He would
’
ve liked to blame it on a strange bed, but he didn
’
t know a familiar bed. The one in his room was quite comfortable, actually. If Ava succeeded in turning the mansion into a B&B, then guests would be more than satisfied. A vase of fresh fall wildflowers sat on the dresser and a dish of chocolates on the nightstand. A detailed history of the bedroom had been printed on a card inside the nightstand drawer, including previous tenants in the Trumble family. She
’
d even placed a basket of travel toiletries in the bathroom filled with soaps, shampoos, lotions, and the like. The label on the bottles said they were from a local boutique in town. Cozy touches that made people feel at home.

No, his lack of sleep wasn
’
t because of the accommodations. The fact this might be his last case, and in a way tied to his family, weighed heavily on his mind. It was like climbing a hurdle he didn
’
t know existed. He also didn
’
t know where to go from here if he quit, and he despised feeling like this. The show paid well, especially after the first season, so he was well-off for life if he spent his money wisely. If he so chose, he wouldn
’
t have to work. He
wanted
to work though. He also didn’
t know whether to return to Denver, to London, or somewhere else. New York wasn
’
t an option. He
’
d only purchased the apartment because of the show. He wasn’t fond of New York. Too many people swallowing him. Too much concrete.

The sheets in his room smelled like Ava. Like fabric softener with a trace of sunshine. Probably just her laundry detergent, but it had given him fits all night.

Giving up on the attempt of more sleep, he rose, showered and dressed.

When he walked into the kitchen a half hour later, she already had an industrial-sized pot of coffee brewed and was whisking something in a large metal bowl at the island.

“
Morning.
”
She didn
’
t glance up.
“
Coffee
’
s ready if you want some. Or do you want tea? Brits prefer tea, right?
”

She had her auburn hair clipped off her face again, but a strand had broken loose and fell over her forehead. She didn
’
t seem to mind. The first two buttons of her lilac blouse were undone, and his fingers itched to undo the rest, expose more of that creamy pale skin.

He blinked and reached for the pot.
“
Coffee
’
s fine.
”
He poured himself a cup and sat on a stool at the island to watch her work.
“
I
’
m only half-Brit, remember?
”

She made a sound he couldn
’
t decipher and looked at him.
“
How is one half-Brit, anyway?
”

He didn’
t normally talk about his personal life while on cases. The show
’
s website had a bio on each of the cast members, but they were pretty vague, only listing why they
’
re interested in the paranormal and their education. Sitting here watching her, though, felt homey. There was something intimate and different about chatting in a kitchen and drinking coffee while watching someone cook.

“
My mum
’
s American. She met Dad in London on a college trip and they fell in love. After I was born, she realized how miserable she was and moved us back to Colorado. I visit my dad in summer and on winter holidays.
”

She stopped stirring.
“
So you were shuffled around a lot?
”

For the first time since they met, her tone held a trace of sadness. Perhaps pity for his situation. He preferred the fiery side of her.

“
I like to think of it as having two homes.
”

She was back to stirring and that errant strand of hair fluttered in front of her eyes, driving him batty. He leaned over and tucked it behind her ear, wanting to linger on the soft strands, but refrained. A pause of her hand was the only indication she noticed.

“
Where do you go when you
’
re not filming?
”

He had a suspicion she was baiting him.
“
I have an apartment in New York.
”

She made a derisive sound of disapproval, which was more interesting than grating.

“
Why does that bother you?
”

“
It doesn
’
t bother me. People like you bother me.
”
Her expression revealed she was shocked to admit that aloud.

The spark was back. He really liked that spark.
“
People like me?
”
He couldn
’
t stop himself. Bantering with her was the most fun he
’
d had in ages.