She frowned. "This is different though."
"Oh? How?"
"I remember reading a bit about this in our local paper. Haven't sixteen kids disappeared?"
He smiled. Something in his eyes suggested she'd just made a major mistake, though she wasn't exactly sure what it was. "So they say. No one's really sure of the exact number."
She swallowed. The exact number was currently seventeen, if you included Evan. "Well, that's a rather large number to end up missing from the one area, isn't it? It'd have to raise the police's suspicions."
"But they haven't all disappeared from this area. I said the only known connection between the disappearances was Taurin Bay."
"Oh."
"So which newspaper did you read all this in?"
She shrugged uneasily. "Just a local paper. The Mail, I think. Or it could have been the Courier."
"I'll have to hunt the articles up. Been keeping something of a scrapbook on the case."
Maddie forced a smile. It would only take one phone call to discover her lie. "Something to show the grandchildren later in life?"
"Something like that." His dead gaze ran past her for a moment. "That boyfriend of yours is getting mighty friendly with Miss Dumeresq."
"Let him. I don't care." She threw her napkin down on the table and pushed her chair back. Enough was enough.
"Going already?" Hank raised his eyebrows at her, a knowing smile touching the corners of his thin mouth.
"It's been a long day," she replied tightly. And it looked as if it was going to be an even longer night.
Jon could take his turn on the damn sofa tonight—if he even bothered coming back to the room, that was.
"I don't suppose you'd like company?"
She glanced down sharply at Hank. He smiled blandly back.
"I meant to the door, of course."
"Of course," she muttered. "But I'll be fine, thanks."
He nodded. "See you tomorrow, Miss Smith." He gave her a smile that held more than a hint of malice, then added, "Maybe."
A chill ran down her spine. Maybe going up to the room alone wasn't such a good idea. She glanced back at Jon and found her gaze meeting his. But there was no comfort to be found in the blue of his eyes.
He was doing his job, and she was only getting in the way. His gaze said as much.
She licked her lips and turned away. Hank's gaze burned a hole into her back as she walked quickly from the room.
"What about that nightcap, then?" Eleanor arched an eyebrow at him and walked her fingers down his chest.
Jon stopped her hand when it reached his stomach. "You choose. You know the town better than I do."
"There's a lovely little bar a couple of blocks away, on Fourth. Blue Moon, it's called. And the best thing is, it's only a five minute walk from my place."
He raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like an invitation."
"Play your cards right, and it just might be," she purred and lightly kissed his ear.
He resisted the temptation to move away from her touch and glanced down the table at Hank. The man was looking far too smug for Jon's liking. Eleanor's tongue whisked across his ear. This time he did pull away, smiling when she pouted.
"What about the boyfriend?"
Eleanor raised finely sculptured eyebrows. "What boyfriend?"
Jon nodded towards Hank. "Aren't you two an item?"
Eleanor's smile was pure seduction. "Sometimes we are. Sometimes we aren't."
Hank appeared to be ignoring them, yet Jon sensed the man knew every move he and Eleanor made.
There was some sort of link between the night manager and Eleanor, a tenuous thread of magic that tingled across his skin like electricity. It worried him, and yet at the same time, it told him he was right in suspecting these two.
"So he won't object to us going out?"
Her smile gained a hint of malice. "Oh, he may object, but I don't really care."
Her heart is as cold as her touch is warm,he thought. She looked briefly at Hank, her expression disdainful. At that moment, the electricity surged, a brief but potent charge that made the hair on Jon's arms stand on end.
Hank rose immediately, bumping into the woman on his left and spilling her wine. He muttered an apology then quickly walked from the room. The bell chimed as he left the inn.
Tension surged through Jon. He flexed his shoulders, trying to relax. Something had just happened between Eleanor and Hank, and until he found out what, he'd better be more careful.
She turned, facing him. His gaze was drawn to her ample cleavage. The woman was built, he had to give her that.
"So, what time should we meet?" she continued softly.
He glanced at his watch. It was nearly nine now. The sooner he got this over with, the better. But he wanted to check on Maddie first and make sure she was okay. She'd been a little upset when she'd left the table.
"I'm good any time. You're the one with the meeting, so why don't you decide?"
"This is going to be the shortest business meeting in history. I can't believe my lawyer chose such an ungodly hour." She ran a nail down his cheek. Though her touch was feather light, it would only take the slightest bit of pressure to slice his skin. Her nails were as sharp as a cat's. "How does ten sound?"
"Suits me." He caught her hand, raising it to his lips.
Amusement spun through her eyes. "Such a gentleman."
He smiled. "Only when the room is full of people."
"Good," she purred, and rose. "Because I like a man with a bit of fight in him."
Most cats did. It seemed to be part of their makeup. He picked up his wine and watched her walk away. He'd better be damn careful tonight, or he'd find himself as dessert in more ways than one.
Maddie bolted the suite door but still didn't feel safer. Hank's warning seemed to echo through the silence and set her teeth on edge. After turning on every light, she checked the bedroom and bathroom for intruders. There was nothing unusual to be found, yet her stomach turned uneasily. Something felt wrong, and it wasn't just her nerves—or her imagination.
She bit her lip and rubbed her arms. The room was cold, despite the fire. She threw more logs on and stirred the coals. Flames leapt, fierce and bright.
Despite the light, the shadows in the far corners of the room seemed to loom threateningly. She shivered and held her hands out to the flames, trying to warm them. The encounter with Hank must have unnerved her more than she'd realized. She was getting jumpy over shadows, for Christ sake.
A floorboard creaked behind her. She whirled, her heart leaping into her throat. Something whisked through the light, a gossamer veil that held no shape.
She swallowed heavily. Fog. It had to be fog. The idiot repairman must have left the bathroom window open this morning, even though she hadn't noticed it when she checked earlier.
Another sheer form spun across the room. She closed her eyes. It was her imagination, nothing more.
Ghosts did not exist.
She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. A phantom floated two feet away from her, staring at her with eyes that held no life.
Maddie tried to scream, but no sound came out. The creature laughed softly. It was a sound that chilled her soul.
"Flee," it whispered hoarsely. "Flee, or die."
She tried to back away from the wraith, but her feet were like ice, refusing to move with any sort of speed. Something lashed across her shoulders. She yelped in pain and spun around. The mocking sound of laughter ran across the room. She touched her shoulder; her fingers came away sticky. Real or not, these creatures could harm her.
More wraiths skimmed through the room. Her back hit a wall and sweat broke across her brow. She licked her lips and closed her eyes again, praying for strength. The pressure was beginning to build deep within her, pressure she feared and could not control.