Granted, he could understand why visitors to the island might forsake this spot for the flume ride. Tucked away among bushes and low trees, the lighthouse struck him as lonely, and the area around them as desolate. Someone had painted the door red, perhaps to be cheery, but the bright color did nothing to lift the spirits of the place.
“It’s just an old lighthouse.”
He feigned a gasp. “And you call yourself a Torontonian. The legend is one of the best ghost stories in Toronto history. The first lighthouse keeper was known for keeping a stash of bootlegged beer. According to the story, back in 1815, a couple of drunken soldiers from Fort York came in search of more booze. The lighthouse keeper turned them away. A fight broke out and the soldiers put a bayonet through him. They say his ghost haunts the grounds to this day.”
“That’s just creepy.”
“I think it’s fascinating.”
“I’ve never been a big lover of ghost stories.”
“No?” He trailed two fingers over her shoulder, spider-style. “Do you get scared easily?”
She rolled her shoulders to brush him off. “You wish, Zorn.”
“Tough talk.” He laughed. Her reaction only egged him on. He pointed to the window at the top of the lighthouse and his allowed his features to darken. “Did you see that shadow at the window just now?”
“Stop it, you pest!” She slapped his arm. “You’re trying to make me pee my pants.”
He laughed again, dragging her into his arms. “I wouldn’t dream of it, although it’s tempting because you’re so easy. Don’t worry, Dimples. I’ll protect you from the ghost.”
“Michael Zorn, if you had your way, you’d throw me to the ghost.” She glanced up at the enclosed area surrounding the lighthouse lantern. “I don’t want to stare too long. I might not believe in ghosts, but this is just the sort of place to make me change my mind. Come on. Let’s bike back to Centreville.”
They picked their way over the grass to where they’d stowed their two-seater quadricycle. They’d spent the early part of the afternoon biking around the various connected islands that made up the Toronto Islands network. Pedaling next to Emily gave him a great opportunity to see her legs in action, and he’d spent much of that time grinning from ear to ear, imagining those legs wrapped around his waist. All dirty thoughts aside, he was having a terrific day. They’d pedaled past miles of beaches and the cute residential community on Ward’s Island, as well as past the amusement rides and gardens on Centre Island. Surrounded by the sun and the happy laughter of other visitors, Michael felt a sense of calm and hope.
He could do this. He could get through this day without contemplating anyone’s murder, other than the poor lighthouse keeper.
A quick flash appeared before his eyes, Jane splayed on the floor, covered in blood. Michael blinked hard and dismissed the image.
Not today. Not now.
He turned to Emily. She beamed and optimism settled in his chest once more.
“Want a burger?” she asked, pointing to a nearby food vendor. “I’m famished after all this cycling.”
“I know for a fact I was pedaling harder than you were.” He winked.
“You’re incorrigible and I’m getting a burger. And a milkshake. But, seeing as you feel superior, you can keep pedaling if you want.”
“Fine. I’ll eat with you.” They parked their quadricycle next to the burger joint. Michael slung an arm around her hip. “But can I watch you suck back your milkshake?”
“Be a good boy and the milkshake might not be the only thing I suck today.”
“Woman, you’re killing me.”
Emily batted her eyelashes. “Who, me?”
He whispered in her ear. “When I get you back home, you’re going over my knee.”
“Day’s not over, Michael. Looks like you’ll just have to be patient.” She smiled at the food vendor. “We’ll have two burger meals, please. With large milkshakes.”
***
Around nine o’clock that night, Emily and Michael stood in his driveway next to her parked car. She was still trying to decide on their next adventure. It was a toss-up between catching a show at a local comedy club or some late-night bowling. She scrolled through the bowling alley’s information on her cell phone. “There’s a bowling alley about ten minutes away. The allure of those used shoes is hard to resist.”
He took her phone and slid it into her open purse. “I don’t want to go bowling.”
“Okay. A comedy club then.”
