Leslie forced herself to climb out of bed, reaching for her cell phone and the pepper spray she kept handy. Just in case. Armed with both, sliding into her clogs (she felt less vulnerable without bare feet), she crept out of her bedroom and through the office attached to thekitchen.
Wearing a t-shirt and boxer shorts, she walked soundlessly across the kitchen and into the hallway that led to the foyer. It was chilly—really quite cold—out here. Did the furnace need repair nowtoo?
Or maybe it was just fear and nerves that caused goose pimples to erupt everywhere on her, and the tip of her nose and fingers to goicy.
Still gripping her phone in one hand, the pepper spray in the other, she made her way down the hall. She could see a glimpse of the foyer ahead, dark and shadowy without any hint of light other than the faintest glow from a small, low nightlight she’d plugged in at the juncture of hall andfoyer.
Just before she reached the front entrance, Leslie paused. Listened, then caught her breath. In the distance, she heard a sound…soft and melodious.Music?
From where? Now her breath was coming in short, quick puffs…and she was so cold it felt as if she were encased in a block ofice.
The music was louder now, more discernible. It seemed to be coming from the foyer. Heart ramming so sharply she felt it jolting her whole ribcage, Leslie swallowed hard. Then she stepped forward and peered around the corner to look into the high-ceilinged entryhall.
Nothing seemed to have been disturbed. But the music was definitely coming from…upstairs? Her breath catching, Leslie looked up at the wide, swooping curve that ended above and across the room in a balcony overlooking thefoyer.
There was somethingthere.
Something…light. Glowing.Shimmering.
Her heart was lodged fully in her throat by now; Leslie couldn’t have screamed if she’d wanted to. The music was louder now…it sounded familiar…soft and subtle andhaunting.
Leslie fumbled with her phone and turned on the flashlight to beam it up toward the glow at the top of the stairs. Not that the wimpy illumination from her phone projected very far. And whatever it was up there, it wasn’t moving. It was just…standing there. A shapeless column, shimmering softly in a pale, pearlyglow.
Now that she had some light, Leslie could see how cold the room was: her breath was visible. It wasn’t just fear that made her shiver and tremble. The temperature had dropped, suddenly and sharply, and Leslie—confronted by this glowing image—realized she was either looking at a supernatural phenomenon, or someone was playing an elaborate trick onher.
“Who’s there?” she called, still gripping the pepper spray. She couldn’t make herself move any closer to the steps, however. “Showyourself!”
At her words, the column—that glowing image—seemed to shift and move…and then all at once, it was coming toward her, down the stairs, rapidly andloudly.
Leslie couldn’t control herself; she shrieked and stumbled backward, catching herself with her hands on the ground as the sounds of thudding, rolling, tumbling filled her ears, filled the entire foyer. Underscored by the familiar music, the noise echoed in the space until the nebulous entity reached the bottom of the stairs and swooped around the space…thendisappeared.
Everything wasstill.
The musicstopped.
The glow wasgone.
Even her breath no longer created fog, for the temperature rocketed back tonormal.
But lingering in the stillness was the faint scent of a woman’sperfume.
A sweet, floral scent that Leslie didn’twear.
Declan pulled up the driveway of Shenstone House at eight o’clock the morning after he’d scared the crap out of LeslieNakano.
He hoped he wasn’t too early, but his day started pretty much with dawn, getting Stephanie out the door for school before seven, then downing his first cup of coffee, reading the news, and doing administrative workonline.
He suspected a go-getter like Ms. Nakano would be up early as well, but still, maybe he should call first. Just in case she was still in bed. Or in the shower. Or better yet, just getting out of theshower—
Declan surprised himself with a suddensmile.
Maybe he wouldn’tcall.
Maybe he’d take hischances.
Well, now—that was an unexpected train of thought. He scratched his newly shaven chin thoughtfully then figured, what the hell? If he got the chance to see the hot celebrity CEO in a towel—or even her nightshirt—it wouldn’t be the worst way to start theday.
He climbed out of his truck and walked across the parking area, pausing briefly to consider whether he should go to the front door or the kitchen. There was a rustling in the bushes, and he turned to see a huge cat—thirteen, maybe fourteen pounds—prowling out from the tall, brown grass like a miniaturelioness.
