Riding the Thunder (32 page)

“No! Wait—”

The line went dead. Whatever his brother wanted, it could wait.

Asha adjusted the long, black wig on her head and stepped back to study the effect in the mirror. Her sister B.A. was a beautiful blonde; her twin, Britt, was a stunning brunette. The remainder of the Montgomerie sisters took after their father and had various shades of auburn hair. To see the blue-black wig on her head, a shade similar to Jago's hair, was startling to say the least.

“Wonder what Sexy Lips will think of me as Morticia Addams?” She had been speaking to the cat, but looked around and noticed the creature had vanished.

The bungalow was small—not many places he could disappear. Checking the kitchen proved the still nameless kitty wasn't there feeding his face. Wondering where What's His Name had vanished, Asha headed to the bathroom and flipped out the lights. The patio door was closed, so he hadn't gotten out that way.

She shut the closet door, but felt a cool draft coming from across the room. As she stared in that direction, unease skittering over her skin, the louvered shutters moved apart, pushed inward by a breeze as though moved by ghostly hands. Going to them, she took hold of the knob and pulled them wide. The window was raised about six inches—enough for the cat to climb through.

“Even a fat cat,” she muttered in puzzlement.

There was no screen covering the window. They were on all the bungalows, so why was hers missing? Feeling a chill creeping up her spine, she recalled Jago's cabin had been broken into. Though nothing had been taken, she didn't like that someone had violated his privacy. Now her screen was gone and the window open. She hadn't left it that way.

Maybe Jago had forgotten to close it and she hadn't noticed before. That still didn't explain the screen. Nothing had happened to any of the bungalows or the rooms since the incident of Jago's broken lock; regardless, she didn't like the feel of this.

Putting her hand on her hips, she glared at the window. She went to the kitchen and found a screwdriver and two screws. Coming back, she closed the window and locked it. Then, where the bottom pane met the top, she very carefully twisted the screws into the wood at an angle on each side, only partway, effectively stopping someone from raising it. Closing the louvers, she hooked them shut, too. She'd check on where the screen had vanished later. Right now, she had to hustle; she didn't want to be late to her party.

The Shelby was back in its usual parking space, but as she stepped outside, Asha saw the lights in Jago's cabin were off. Evidently he had already changed into his costume. She guessed the cat was with him.

Feeling as if she'd forgotten something, she decided to go around and check on Delbert, suggest he close down the lobby early and go to the party. The dear man's spirits seemed a little down for the past couple of weeks. She was worried about him. Maybe a few laughs and a dance might cheer him up, she hoped.

She entered through the atrium, but he wasn't about. She started to leave, but then her little voice nagged at her to check on him. Going down the hall off the side of the lobby, she followed it back to the rooms where Delbert lived. The door was ajar, but she hesitated before entering.

Peeking around her doorframe, she called, “Delbert?”

No response. Seeing light cast across the floor, as though a reading lamp was on in the bedroom, she slowly entered. Delbert was sitting in an overstuffed chair in the far corner. She smiled at the touches of old-fashioned décor about the room, the lace doilies on the tables and one on the back of
the chair. Someone had spent hours making them. Delbert was sitting with a large album across his lap, the narrow beam of the lamp directly on it.

“Delbert?” She knocked on the doorframe, trying to draw his attention. “Hey, Delbert. I'm looking for an escort to this big Halloween bash. I thought Obi-Wan might like to do the honors.”

His posture was so forlorn that her heart squeezed. He looked up at her, and she saw his cheeks were streaked with tears. Worried, Asha rushed to him, frightened something was very wrong. She reached out and gently touched his arm.

“What's a matter? Are you all right?”

He sucked in a deep breath and gave a forced smile. “I'm fine. You look different with black hair, Asha. I always had a thing for Carolyn Jones. Used to watch that silly show each week just to see her in that black dress, those eyes flashing wickedly.”

Trying to lighten his mood, Asha imitated Morticia and did the Addams Family snap of the fingers. “And do I do her justice?”

“You are beautiful, girl. Inside and out. Not many people are. I'd like some pictures of you and your Jago for my album.”

“Certainly. All you want.”

His trembling fingers reached out and stroked the edge of a photo. “He reminds me of Tommy, you know, same curly black hair. Oh, he doesn't really look like him. But the eyes . . . sometimes I stare at them and I recognize it's Jago, but for a breathless moment I see Tommy.”

Asha's heart dropped. “Tommy Grant?”
Maybe you'd better ask those who know more about them. There's one or two around
. “You knew Tommy?”

“A handsome boy. He grew into a great young man. I was so proud of him.” Such sorrow filled Delbert's eyes as he looked up at her. “I don't think I ever told him . . . I can't remember
. . . but I don't think I told him how proud I was to be his uncle.”

“Uncle?”

“His mother was my older sister. Margaret Seacrest. Maggie, we called her. She married David Grant. Damn, so many mistakes in my life, girl. Too late to change things. My life's over. Just regrets now. Tommy's father was killed, hit head-on by a drunk driver. Maggie didn't have a way to support herself. You see, it wasn't expected of women back then. They married and stayed home to take care of the kids. That was the way of things. Women didn't have careers. Only, Maggie had a son to raise. I took over supporting them. I didn't have that much to give. Did what I could. I was a struggling lawyer, you know. Hard to build a practice in Leesburg. Times were tough. I worked long and hard, and much to my shame, often I resented that I was caring for Maggie and Tommy, instead of a wife and son of my own. Wasn't good of me. I shouldn't have done that . . . thought those things.”

“Delbert, don't be too hard on yourself. We're only human. Sometimes we're less than perfect, think or say things we really don't mean. People who love us understand.”

“I bought him that Mustang. They died in that car. Maybe if I hadn't bought it . . .”

Asha took his hand and clutched it tightly. “Sadly, bad things happen to good people. You buying a car had nothing to do with that.”

The old man's hand trembled as he nodded. “But they were so young, Asha . . . had so much to live for. Would have gotten married in a year, had children. They . . . would've made a beautiful son. He'd be about the age of your Jago now.” Delbert looked down at the picture of Laura and Tommy. “I feel them here. As if they didn't move on. My sister died by her own hand. Took pills one night. She couldn't live with losing both Dave and Tommy in car accidents. I used to come here, eat at the restaurant, or go
to the drive-in. Play their song. After a spell, when people figured I should stop grieving and get on with my life, they began giving me pitying looks. ‘
Poor Delbert, not right in the head
.' I had a heart attack when I was in my early sixties. A bad one. Nearly died. Your mama, god bless her soul, came to the University Hospital and picked me up. Brought me back here. Not sure where I would be without her.”

“She did the right thing. You belong here with us.”

“It was a good day you came back after your mama died. I feared this special place would one day be swallowed up by developers.”

She grinned. “Won't happen. I'm holding on to this place. And now I have Jago. He'll be my warrior. He'll fight for me, fight for The Windmill.”

Delbert nodded. “Then I can die in peace.”

“Like bloody hell you will.” Glancing at the pictures of Tommy and Laura, Asha wanted to see them. Just not tonight. Delbert needed to get out and ease his troubled heart, be with the rest of the Windmill family. Closing the album, she took it from his hands. “Some rainy afternoon I'd love for you to show me all the pictures and tell me about Tommy and Laura. I think I have a few things to tell you as well. But this night is magic. I shan't leave unless you come. Tommy wouldn't want you here alone.”

He let her take the album. “I'm old, Asha. Life passed me by.”

“No, it didn't. You just live at The Windmill where time tends to stand still. You have a lot of years ahead of you. Stop wasting them with regret. We have so much to do here, and if I have my way, you'll have a godson to bounce on your knee.” She shrugged. “Maybe next year?”

His grin was real. “Godson? You going to marry Jago?”

“Yeppers. Sure am. I haven't told him yet—men like to think it's all their idea.” She took Delbert's arm and wrapped hers around it. “So, for now this is our little secret.”

“You are a special lady, Asha Montgomerie. He's very lucky to have you.”

“Actually, he is. Now let's hurry. We wouldn't want to miss Bobby ‘Boris' Pickett doing The Mash.”

“You think he might sing ‘Purple People Eater'?”

She laughed aloud. “I'm sure if you request it he might. If not, Colin and I will do a version for you.”

He chuckled. “Now that would be a sight to see.”

But I'm lost for words
When I hold you close
Because you take my breath . . .
Away.

The beautiful ballad “Lost for Words” by Mike Duncan was softly playing in the background, yet suddenly Jago could barely hear it. He'd just asked Colin who the artist was, and where he could buy the CD, because the song seemed to reach into him, touch his heart. Duncan's voice was haunting, compelling. Then he had looked down the terraced hillside and saw Asha coming up the winding concrete stairs, and he was truly lost for words, too. Lost to anything, for that matter. All the festive party noises, the wild costumes and the Halloween decorations faded to a dim blur as he stared at the woman he simply loved more than life.

“‘And you take my breath. Away,'” Jago sang.

He'd loved Asha from that first breathless instant when she materialized from the brilliant sunlight and walked into the restaurant. In that moment, he had accepted Fate. Now
he couldn't breathe as he watched her trying to climb the stairs and not trip on the ‘spider leg feet' of her costume.

His mouth quirked up as he noted the black wig she wore. It threw him. She carried off the outfit well, making a surprisingly sexy black-haired lass. But then, he had a notion she could show up baldheaded and in a burlap sack and he'd love how she looked. He leaned on the wood rail post like a sap, drinking in the vision of Morticia Addams helping Obi-Wan Kenobi up the steps.

“Hey, Asha sure is a hottie in that get-up, eh?” Colin elbowed him with a big grin and then snapped several pictures. “Oo . . . oo . . . oo . . . it. I know, I can sell you copies for a buck. Eh? Great set of knockers she's got. Want me to get some close-ups?”

“I may kill you some day.” Jago's threat had no teeth, though.

Colin wasn't fazed either. “I'm growing on you. Told you, I would.”

Jago chuckled and then summoned a proper glare, looking Colin up and down. “How the bloody hell did we both end up in vampire costumes?” he asked.

“Us? What about
him?
” Colin asked, swinging around and lowering the camera to snap pictures of the pudgy cat, wandering around in a Dracula cape. “Silly kitty, I think he likes the costume.”

Asha entered the glasshouse, then pulled up when she saw the three of them. Steepling her hands before her mouth, she tried to contain her laughter . . . and failed. “I feel like I'm watching an old episode of ‘What's My Line' on the Game Show Channel.
‘Will the real Dracula please stand up?'”

Jago grinned and raised his arms to flourish his cape. “I tried to buy a giant leech costume, but they didn't have one. I bought the next best bloodsucker.”

“And What's His Name, too?” she patted the vampire kitty on the head.

“I thought about a bunny costume. They had a pink one
for kitties, just like Ralphie in
The Christmas Story
, but figured he'd think it beneath his dignity.” Jago lifted a strand of her black wig, toying with it, just needing to touch her.

“I didn't know fur-covered hogs had dignity.” Colin sniggered. Then suddenly his eyes grew wide. “Oo . . . oo . . . it's Bobby!”

Jago chuckled seeing the guest of honor coming around the pool with Derek—
both
in Dracula capes. “It's an epidemic!”

“There's a distinct lack of originality around this place, Asha. We need a five Drac limit on this party. Any more show up flapping a cape, I say we chuck them out on their keister.” Excited, Colin rushed over to snap pictures of his idol Bobby Pickett.

“Too late!” Jago raised his glass in salute as Liam, in the Count's full regalia, escorted another Morticia Addams in through the glass door.

“Well, this is a fine how-do-you-do.” Asha and her ‘spider feet' wiggled over to face Netta who was equally lovely in the black wig. The two stared at each other, and then slowly circled to examine the other closely, their two sets of fake spider feet bouncing as they turned 360-degrees. Almost as if in mirror, both women raised their arms, glowered at each other and then in complete unison did the Addam's finger snap.

Everyone broke into a riot of laughter, including the two women.

Winnie came out of the clubhouse in an Elvira getup. She paused, then blinked at seeing the two Morticias and the six Draculas.“Gee, I haven't even had a drink yet,” she said.