“Then whose is it?”
She had no answer.
“If you ask me, it’s high time you learned.Soap is under the sink, the dishcloth is in it.You’re a smart lady.Figure the rest out for yourself.”
“Where are you going?”Casey asked, as he started out the door.
“To put out a fire then take a shower.”
“But you already had a shower,” she said, remembering the steam… and the towel… and the bare-naked body.
“Yeah, so maybe I have more than one fire that needs quenching, okay?”
It took exactly five seconds for the implication of what he’d suggested to sink in, and another few for her to be able to move.After that, she was glad to have something to do besides think about what he’d said…and why he’d said it.
* * *
The air was thick and muggy from the lingering heat of the day.It was that time of the evening just before dusk and right after the sun has passed beyond the horizon.A family of martens swooped grass-high in daring flight then soared heavenward, constantly feeding on the mosquitos in the air.
Graystone, the home that had been in the Marlow family since before the War of Northern Aggression, loomed large upon the landscape.It was a three-story monolith which had seen better days.Its regal structure and the land upon which it sat was sadly in need of repair, yet at a distance, the charm of the pillared edifice was still imposing.
Lash reclined in an old wicker chair on the veranda of his family home, nursing his third bourbon and water and surveying all that was his.This was his favorite time of the day.It wasn’t because the workday was over and he was taking a well-earned rest It was because Graystone looked better at half-light.
He tossed back the last of his drink, trying to pinpoint exactly where his plans for glory had gone wrong.The liquor burned and he silently cursed the fact that he could no longer afford the best.He was drinking cheap bourbon, living in the servant’s wing while the rest of the mansion was closed off, and down to doing for himself.He didn’t even have the funds to hire a housekeeper and made only enough at his law practice to keep the taxes paid on his home and himself afloat.
His belly growled.Without conscious thought, he pushed himself up from the chair and entered the house, taking care to lock the door behind him.Just for a moment, he stood in the great hall, staring up at the spiral staircase gracing the entryway, remembering another time when the house had been alive with laughter and people.
Something moved in the far corner of the hall.He winced as the sound of scurrying feet scratched on the marble flooring, then disappeared behind a breakfront.It wasn’t the first rodent of that size he’d seen inside these walls, but tonight, it would be one too many.
He started to shake, first with rage, then from despair.It was over!There would be no more dreams of bringing Graystone back to her former beauty, or of returning dignity to the Marlow name.And it was all because of Casey.
A red haze blurred his vision.He drew back and threw his glass toward the place where he’d last seen the rat.It shattered against the wall, splintering into minute crystal shards.Only afterward did he remember that it had been part of a set, but regret swiftly faded.What did it matter?His only guests wore long tails and came on four feet…in the dark…in the middle of the night.
Startled by the sound of breaking glass, the rat that had taken refuge behind the breakfront made a run down the hallway for the deeper shadows beyond.As it did, something inside of Lash snapped.He grabbed at his grandfather’s ivoryhandled walking stick that had been standing in the hall tree for more than forty years, and ran, catching the rat just as it neared safety.He swung down with deadly force and the sound shattered the silence within the old walls as well as what was left of Lash’s reason.Glass splintered on the wall behind him as he drew back the cane, but he didn’t notice.
Even after the rat was dead, Lash continued to hail it with a barrage of blows until gore began to splatter on his shoes and the cuffs of his pants.
But in his mind, the rat had been dispatched from the first blow he’d struck.He was oblivious to the overkill, or that he might have lost more than his control.He kept venting his rage on a woman who’d dashed his dreams.And it wasn’t the rodent who was coming apart on the cool marble floor.It was the beautiful and complacent surface of Casey Ruban’s face.
When he finally stopped, his body was shaking from exertion and the muscles in his arm were burning from the energy he’d spent.He stared in disbelief at what he’d done, then tossed the cane down on the floor, disgusted by its condition.
Weary in both body and spirit, he turned and then stared at the wall in disbelief.The mirror!The glass in the ornate, goldrimmed mirror that had hung in this hall for as long as he could remember, was shattered.His heart began to pound as he looked at the broken and refracted image of himself—a true reflection of his life.
He stepped back in horror and reached for the rabbit’s foot in the pocket of his pants.All he could think as he backed away was, Seven long years of bad luck.
CHAPTER 4
Casey roused from a restless sleep.Disoriented by unfamiliar surroundings, it took a few moments for reality to return.Someone moaned.Her first thought was that Ryder could be sick.Quietly, she crawled out of bed and tiptoed to the door, aware that he’d made his bed in the middle of the living room floor.The moan came again, only this time, louder.
When she’d seen him last, he’d been unfolding a sleeping bag.But this was frightening.She didn’t know what to make of it.What if he was hurt, or sick?
Just as she turned the doorknob, something crashed to the floor.An image of intruders made her hesitate, but only for a moment.
The door opened inward on well-oiled hinges.She peered into the living room, searching the shadows to make certain she and Ryder were still alone.The outer door was shut, as were the windows.As she listened, the hum of the central air-conditioning unit kicked on, changing the texture of the night.She took a step forward, then another, then another until she was behind the sofa and peering over it.
Ryder was stretched out in his sleeping bag there on the floor.Lying half in and half out of the faint glow from the security lights outside, he seemed more shadow than substance.
And while she was watching, he jerked and then moaned, throwing one arm over his eyes, as if warding off some unseen blow.
