Reclaiming His Bride (DiCarlo Brides book 3) (The DiCarlo Brides) Page 9

  “I could understand the whole ghost business back when George was trying to buy the land, and maybe even in the early stages of building. Stalling the process could affect other smaller hotels that aren’t quite as full now that we’re open. Or maybe someone else had plans for the ground, but it’s too late for that now.” Blake took a drink of his soda.

  “So what’s the payoff? Personal satisfaction?” Lana felt tiredness pulling on her muscles, turning them to mush. She was definitely going to sleep on the drive back up the mountain. “I think figuring out what someone has to gain will be the key to tracking them down. If we could find that out.” Unfortunately, they were both stumped.

  “Hey, baby, we’re here. Wake up.” Blake’s voice and the soft touch of his hand shaking her shoulder woke Lana from a dead sleep.

  “Mmmm. I don’t remember anything since we got on the freeway.” She blinked and stretched, trying to make her brain work, to orient herself to her surroundings.

  “You were totally out of it. I’ve already carried in all of your bags.” Blake reached over her and released the seat belt. “Come on. I’ll help you to the door.” His hand supported her under her elbow as he helped her stand.

  Lana found her legs were still a little unsteady as she put her weight on them. “I guess I was tired.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” He didn’t step back when she came to her feet only inches away. “We’re not in Denver anymore, right? The trip is over?”

  Her mind was fuzzy from sleep, so she just nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

  Blake’s response was to lower his lips and press them to hers, gliding across them, tasting, molding to hers.

  The gentle intensity of it woke her like nothing else could have. She burrowed her hands into the gap between his coat and sweater, felt his hand cradle her cheek, tipping her head slightly so he could take the kiss deeper. All of the hot hunger and warm emotions that had driven her to agree to marry him in the first place filled her, poking into every corner and crevice of her being, making her return the kiss with enthusiasm.

  She wanted. Wanted. But she pulled back after an eternity or two and buried her face in his neck. “I can’t go there now. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah. I figured.” Blake’s voice was gravely. His lips pressed against the top of her head. “Let’s get you back to the house, Sleeping Beauty.”

  She smiled slightly and allowed him to help her inside. Her head still wasn’t totally clear after that kiss, and the long nap wasn’t helping.

  He saw her to the door and gave her hand a squeeze, saying goodnight.

  She let him go, wondering if she had totally lost her mind. Why did she keep pushing him away when he made her feel like that?

  When Lana returned to her room and emptied her coat pockets, she found a small wrapped package. The tiny card on top said simply, Happy Anniversary in his spidery script. She held her breath as she opened the velvet box to find a bracelet with a pendant in the same style as her wedding ring.

  She sat heavily on her bed and pulled the long chain from under her blouse, which ended in her wedding ring. They were a perfect match and that made her throat ache with unshed tears. She wished she knew what she was supposed to do.

  Thanksgiving was only days away and Blake whistled as he headed for a back exit at the resort. Rosemary had just invited him to join the family at the girls’ house for her birthday dinner the next night and for Thanksgiving day—and he wasn’t about to ignore any chance to spend time with Lana and her sisters.

  His brow furrowed as he approached the glass exit, seeing something scrawled across the door. When he got close enough to read the words ‘RIP Ernesto and Julio,’ he could see they were written in something red and drippy. It looked like blood. He pulled out his cell phone and speed dialed Joel.

  “I’m at the exit three doors down from our problem area. We have another issue on the first floor.”

  “Hold on, I’m checking the camera.” A moment passed before Joel’s voice swore over the line. “I’ll be right down. Call housekeeping and get them there to clean it up ASAP.”

  “That’s my next move.” Blake hung up and dialed housekeeping. Vanessa was out on rounds in the guest rooms, so he dialed her cell number, finally reaching her as Joel approached from the main hall, plastic bag in hand.

  Blake told Vanessa what was going on, then hung up when Joel stopped beside him. “What do you think? Stage makeup?”

  “Could be.” He pulled out his phone and snapped several pictures of the message, then scraped some of the red gel off the glass, depositing it in a small zipper bag. “I’ll check the video tapes to see if I can find anything. So far, our perp has been insanely good at keeping out of the line of sight, blocking the cameras, or even making them loop so they don’t show any activity. I don’t think this is covered by the new camera I had installed a couple of nights ago.”

  “You sure none of our employees could have done this? You think we had two computer geeks causing havoc this fall?” Blake referred to the stalker who had been after Sage for more than a year.

  “The stalker didn’t do anything too complex—the average Joe could have managed it. This takes a little more skill. And no, I’m not sure none of the people working here couldn’t have done it—I couldn’t find anyone with that kind of skill, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have it.” Joel looked at the video camera and studied the angle. “That one’s stationary, but it’s a bad angle. I’ll see what I can do.”

  The head of housekeeping came down the hall carrying a rag and a spray bottle of cleaner. She flinched a little as she caught sight of the door. “What do you think it is?” she asked.

  “Not blood, that’s for sure,” Joel said. He zipped the baggie and stuck it in his pocket, then studied the rest of the hall. “When did you have a crew down here last?”

  “They finished up this floor a couple of hours ago,” she said, spraying the window and then starting to wipe it down. The red substance streaked on the glass at first, but it seemed to be coming off okay. “When I realized what part of the building this was in, I decided to come down myself. I can’t afford to replace any more Nervous-Nellies. This is getting ridiculous.”

  “Yes, it is.” Blake pressed his lips together, then turned to Joel. “I think I’ll go with you to check out the tapes.”

  When they were back in the office, Joel queued up the tape for that camera to an hour before and started fast forwarding. The door was only on the corner of the monitor, but the words seemed to appear all at once. Joel stopped the tape and rewound it, then started again, much slower.

  There was a little blip on the screen as the image popped on and the light from the window shifted slightly.

  “They did it again. That part has been rewritten.” Joel stood and hobbled to the other side of his office—unable to stalk properly while wearing a knee brace—then turned to face Blake. “I’ll look for another camera with the angles that might hit this door. And I need to figure out how they’re accessing my system. This is driving me crazy.”

  “Tell me about it.” Blake rubbed the back of his neck. “Lana’s getting a little jumpy, and that’s the last thing she needs right now. How’s Sage dealing with it?”

  Joel’s face softened at the mention of his wife. “At first it was all supernatural mumbo jumbo, which she totally believes in, so it wasn’t a big deal—as backward as that sounds. Now she can’t ignore the fact that someone is doing this—and it’s not a ghost. That’s freaking her out.” He shook his head. “She’s still freaked out about her stalker.”

  “Give it some time. Is she sleeping okay?” Blake worried about all of the girls, but Sage had a special place in his heart.

  “Most of the time.” Joel paused for a moment, the epitome of a reticent military man, before pushing forward. “Sometimes she wakes up screaming about fire.”

  “I can only imagine how rough that must be for you. If it were Lana…” The thought of her going through everything that happened to Sage
made Blake sick, so he pushed it away, digging into his pocket for his keys.

  “How are things with Lana, anyway? How are the two of you?”

  Blake hesitated to answer, but he knew Joel, as Lana’s brother-in-law, really wanted what was best for the girls, and Blake had no one else he could talk to about it. “Two steps forward, one and a half back. I think I’m making progress, but it’s slow. I just don’t know what to do, how to get her to trust me.”

  “You can’t make someone trust. You can only do what you can to deserve it, and hope it comes.” Joel paused, sticking his thumbs in his back pockets. “You may have to accept that she’s never going to trust you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  It wasn’t what Blake wanted to hear, but he nodded anyway. Maybe it was what he needed to hear. “I’ll think about that. I’ve got some errands to run, but I’ll catch up with you again later. Let me know if anything else comes up.”

  “Will do.”

  Lana watched the group gathered around the table for the daily executive meeting which included all of the department heads. The message on the glass door was pretty much common knowledge by now, but she still worried about everyone’s reactions. Though they had tried to keep it quiet, employees were grumbling, and there was more than a little talk of what the ghost would do next.

  She certainly counted herself in the group of those who worried about the future. If they didn’t get this stopped, it was going to make a serious gouge in the company’s bottom line, and their reputation. She may still be mad at her dad, but the last thing she wanted to do was to mess with his legacy.

  If they had been an older resort, a little ghostly mystique might have been a draw, but this nonsense was the opposite of what they wanted.

  She opened the meeting, shared the company’s daily message and announcements, then turned the time over to Joel.

  “I gave the police most of the red substance used on the glass, but they left me a little. Anyone have any ideas about what it might be?” He passed around a baggie. It only circled partway around the table before Rosemary studied it, playing with it through the clear zipper bag.

  “I have an idea,” she said. “I think.”

  “What?” Joel asked.

  “Gel food color. We did a red cake two days ago. We used this uber-amazing red color to get the fondant the right shade.” She pulled her cell phone from her pocket. “I’ll see if it’s in the case with the rest. I don’t remember specifically seeing it when I worked on another cake for the anniversary party today.”

  When she hung up a minute later, she shook her head. “It’s not there. Someone could easily have swiped it from the counter. The door is right by the employee dining room.”

  They listened while Joel filled them in on what they had been able to figure out. It didn’t take long as there wasn’t much to go on.

  “The police don’t have any leads?” Vanessa asked.

  “Nothing solid.” Joel rubbed his hand over his bald head. “I have all of these pieces, but nothing to make them fit together yet. And I’ll be out of the office for a few days after my ACL surgery, so I’ll need you all to be extra vigilant while I’m out.”

  Sage reached over and touched his arm as Rosemary ended her conversation.

  Lana was discouraged, but straightened her shoulders and kept the meeting on track. She still had a hotel to run.

  The scent of roast turkey permeating the air made Blake’s mouth water as he walked into the girls’ home just before noon on Thanksgiving. The place was filled with women’s voices talking over and around each other while Joel, Harrison and Vince chatted in a corner. His gaze caught on his wife, loving the way the light streaming through the kitchen window made her red hair shine like copper. She was either oblivious to his arrival, or more likely, was ignoring him because she didn’t acknowledge his arrival.

  “Come in, glad you could make it!” Delphi accepted the bottle of wine he’d brought so he could remove his coat. “We’re about fifteen minutes away from being ready to eat. Go ahead and join the other guys. Cami invited Jeremy, but the rest of us are here.”

  Delphi pulled a face at the mention of Jeremy’s name.

  Blake stuck his hands in his pockets and sauntered over to the guys. His attention was pulled back to the kitchen when he heard Rosemary correct Jonquil on the right way to make pie crust.

  “I don’t know why we don’t just buy the stuff from the refrigerator section at the grocery store,” Jonquil muttered, but she kept pinching the less-than-perfect top crust onto the pie.

  “No, it needs more marshmallows!” Lana told Cami as they prepared sweet potatoes to go into the oven.

  Sage adjusted the little pilgrims in the middle of the table and chuckled at the women behind her, then looked toward her husband and blushed.

  Blake glanced over in time to catch the smoldering look in Joel’s gaze as he watched his wife. Newlyweds. He remembered when he was like that. He found Lana again and thought of the soft, pliant way she’d melted into his embrace the previous weekend. Okay, so he was still like that.

  Lana met his gaze and hurriedly looked away again. One hand slid to her stomach and lingered for a second before she turned her back on him, as if having him out of her sight would make her forget he was there. He couldn’t wait until she really started to look pregnant.

  “They’re all a-bustle,” Blake said as he accepted the drink from Vince. “Not sure I’d dare walk up into the kitchen area right now.”

  “No kidding. I offered to help and nearly got my head bitten off.” Harrison snagged a carrot stick off of the tray on the counter behind him.

  “You’re going to ruin your appetite,” Rosemary said, swatting at his hand with a wooden spoon.

  “With carrot sticks? I’ve never heard of that before.” He grimaced a little and rubbed his hand before popping the vegetable in his mouth.

  The doorbell rang again and Delphi shot a venomous look at it. She took her time walking over, composed her expression into one a little more hostess-like, then opened the door. “Welcome, Jeremy. So glad you could join us.” Her voice sounded a little strangled, as if she were speaking through clenched teeth.

  Jeremy tucked his motorbike helmet under his arm and passed her a bowl. “Something fruit salad-y. As per my assignment.” He strode past her, waiting until she’d had time to turn away from him, then glanced back at her. A smile of male appreciation filled his face when he reached the guys.

  Blake took another sip of his drink to cover his smile. Vince’s knowing look wasn’t nearly as well hidden. Jeremy acted as if he didn’t notice the smirk.

  Thinking that they needed to get together like this more often, if only for the entertainment factor, Blake was startled when his phone began to ring. He felt his smile freeze when he recognized his mother’s tones. Of course it was nearly two p.m. back home, so she was done with lunch by now. Time for his holiday guilt trip. “Excuse me,” he said to the guys and moved through the kitchen to the porch where he could speak in relative privacy.

  “Hello, Mother. Happy Thanksgiving. How are you doing today?”

  “I’m fine, even though you chose not to visit us for the holiday. Please tell me you aren’t eating in that restaurant in the hotel. A handsome, eligible bachelor like you shouldn’t be alone.”

  Not a bachelor. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m having Thanksgiving dinner with the DiCarlos and some other friends. It’s a nice, big, noisy gathering.”

  “So that’s why you’re neglecting me.” There was an audible sniff on the other end of the line. “Far be it from me to be demanding on special family holidays. At least Donald is here. He’s always so thoughtful.” Her voice went a little soft and her southern lilt took on a pleased tone.

  Blake felt his heart sink as the guilt piled on some more. Of course she was going to be upset about him missing the weekend with her—even though she was going to be in town to visit him on Monday. His brother would never make such an inconsiderate d
ecision as to miss a major holiday. But if he had gone home for the weekend, she still would have found a reason to complain. “I wish things could be different, Mother. Things here are a little crazy at the moment, though and I can’t get away. But I sure will miss your amazing turkey.”

  That wasn’t at all likely since Rosemary presided in the kitchen, but he wasn’t going to feel bad about the lie.

  “And my pecan pie.”

  “That’s for sure. No one makes pecan pie like you, Mother.” Except the local bakery, whom Blake knew had provided all of the pies and other goodies for his parents’ holiday meals for the past decade, at least. His mother always took credit, though.

  The sliding glass door opened and Lana poked out her head. “Hey, we’re about ready to start.”

  “I’ll be right there,” Blake said, covering the receiver.

  “Was that a woman’s voice I heard?” his mother asked archly.

  “Yes, I told you, I’m at the DiCarlo sisters’ home today. It looks like they’re ready to eat and I don’t want to keep them Mother, but please let everyone know I missed them and I’ll see you and Father in a few days. I have some great news to share with you then. Love you.”

  “Love you too, son. See you soon. I hope I’m not too jet lagged from the airplane to enjoy our stay.” She hung up.

  Blake lifted the phone from his ear and looked up at the cloudy sky, swearing softly. Snow was expected later in the day and the dark outdoors fit his mood exactly after the conversation with his mom.

  “Tough call?” Lana asked.

  Blake sucked in a breath of surprise. He’d turned away when he acknowledged her comment earlier and had thought she’d gone back inside. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were still there.”

  “That didn’t sound like a fun conversation.”

  “I’ve had better.” He stuck his phone in his pocket and looked her in the eye. Dealing with his mother always made his head ache a little. “I’m ready if you are.”

  “You’re really going to tell her about us, about the baby next week, aren’t you?” Lana bit her lip.