Janet Evanovich - Full Bloom

"So much for your inheritance," she'd told Annie. "I should have my head examined for not taking that woman" — as she often referred to her mother—"to court and having her declared incompetent. Not to mention that old geezer who managed her finances. All you have now is a tacky broken-down whorehouse."

There were times Annie wondered what her grandmother had been thinking when she'd made Annie promise not to sell the house, and times Annie wondered what she had been thinking when she'd agreed.

Annie glanced up at the sound of boots on the stairs. Wes was dressed in his usual faded jeans and a blue work shirt that emphasized his tan complexion. He paused and glanced around. "Where is everybody?"

"Sleeping. Theenie's light was still on when I got up during the night to see to Peaches. Theenie sometimes sits up late reading."

"How long have you been up?"

"Since five. I like getting up early so I can spend a few minutes by myself before putting breakfast on. The house is so quiet and peaceful this time of day."

Annie wondered if he had any idea how good he looked in the morning, fresh from his shower. Not that he looked bad in the afternoon and evening as well, she thought. The man was too damn handsome for his own good. "How about a cup of coffee?" She started to get up.

"Sit," he ordered. "I can get it myself." He crossed the kitchen, opened the cabinet, and reached for a coffee mug. He filled it and joined Annie at the kitchen table. "I see you're planning your day," he said, noting her list. "You forgot one thing."

Annie glanced down. "I did?"

"You haven't scheduled any time for R and R. When's the last time you went dancing or enjoyed a nice meal in a restaurant, where it wasn't up to you to clean up afterward?"

"I don't remember."

"Your problem is you spend too much time closed up in this house."

"You're saying I'm boring."

He looked thoughtful as he reached over and stroked her cheek. "You are the least boring person I've ever met. You've surrounded yourself with people who love you, and you obviously enjoy what you do." He pulled his hand away and reached for his mug.

"But?"

"I don't see you taking much time out for yourself. You're always looking after other people. I guess my question is: who takes care of Annie?"

"It works both ways. These people are the closest thing I've ever had to a real family. Not that my grandmother didn't love me dearly," she added quickly, "but I was more like her caretaker."

"What about your parents?"

She smiled. "They are very nice people, but they had no idea what to do with a child. My mother much prefers me as a grown woman who will lunch and shop with her when I visit, sip expensive wine by the pool, and make sympathetic noises while she regales me with horror stories of growing up in this house. That way she doesn't have to feel guilty for staying away all those years."

"Do you see her often?"

"No, she hates this place, and it's hard for me to visit her in Atlanta with my business and all, but we usually talk on the phone once a week. Only right now she's spending a month with friends in West Palm Beach. Our lifestyles are vastly different."

"Does she know about the recent discovery in your backyard?"

Annie shook her head. "I'll tell her about it when it's all over. No sense worrying her."

"What about your father?"

Annie chuckled. "Like I said, a very nice person who still has no idea what to do with a child, especially a grown daughter. He lives in the south of France, sends nice checks for birthdays and Christmas, which I use to make ongoing repairs to this house."

"Brothers and sisters?"

"Nope. You?"

"There are seven of us, three girls and four boys."

"Holy cow!"

"I'm the middle child, who, according to statistics, gets the shaft. Somebody obviously didn't inform my family of that fact, because I pretty much had it okay." He picked up his and Annie's coffee cups, refilled them, and carried them to the table.

A noise from the stairs caused them both to look up. Destiny nodded a weary "good morning" as she cleared the last step and paused, giving a huge yawn and blinking several times as though she was trying to make herself fully awake. "Coffee," she said, stumbling toward the pot.

Annie noted the tired look on her face. "Another sleepless night?"

Destiny nodded. "Dead people don't sleep. I need to check on my apartment, see when I can return." She sank into a chair across from Wes. "Not that it matters. Once a spirit person latches on to me they usually follow me everywhere. Until I convince them to go to the light," she added. She glanced at Wes. "You don't believe a damn word I'm saying. You think I'm crazy."

He shrugged. "I've noticed a few oddities around here that don't seem to have a valid explanation."

"Now you know."

"I wish there was something I could do to help," Annie said.

"Do you believe in spirits?" Wes asked her.

She hesitated. "Okay, I'm going to tell both of you something I've never told anyone, only you'll have to keep quiet about it because I don't want to frighten the others." She spoke quietly. "My grandmother used to talk to herself. At least I thought she was talking to herself, but when I finally asked her about it, she told me there was a woman, a ghost, trying to communicate with her." Annie paused and looked at Destiny. "You were right. There were many times I felt a presence. Some of my guests have reported seeing things, some sort of apparition, and sometimes I would see something out of the corner of my eye."

"I don't know why you're trying to hide it from Theenie and Lovelle. They've suspected for some time. As for your fears that it might hurt your business, I think it could draw people. Do you have this place listed on a Web site?"

Annie shook her head.

"Lucky for you I know someone who might be able to design one for you," Destiny said. "You've met Jamie's editor, Mike Henderson."

She nodded. "What does he charge?"

"He worships me; he'll do it for free. But you have to be willing to give all the facts about the house, because that's what is going to draw people."

Annie wondered how much Destiny knew.

"You mean the part about it being a brothel at one time?" Wes asked.

"How did you find out?" Annie asked. "Not that it's a secret. Most people know the history."

Wes avoided a direct answer, but he grinned. "The house pretty much speaks for itself, Annie."

She nodded. "Supposedly it closely resembles the way it looked back in the eighteen fifties. My grandmother had an old photo album of pictures taken after it was built, but I haven't seen it in years. I suspect it's somewhere in the attic." She gave an eye roll.

"This spirit was one of the women who lived here when it was a bordello," Destiny said. "Unfortunately, I can't get any information from her because she's mute."

Wes cocked a brow, and Destiny went on. "In most cases, spirits who hang around long after they've died have suffered a tragic death. Most of them are still in shock; sometimes they don't even know they're dead. In the case of this particular spirit, she was strangled to death. She has the marks on her neck."

It was the first time Annie had heard about the marks, and she shuddered. "You're right," she said. "If you read the history of this house you'll learn that her name was Lacey and she was a prostitute. She was murdered by her lover, who was promptly hanged."

Destiny pondered it. "I think she may have witnessed the hanging," she said. "That, combined with her murder, may have traumatized her so badly that she can't speak. Or," she added, "her vocal cords may have been severely damaged in the strangulation."

Wes shook his head. "This all seems pretty farfetched. Why are you able to see the spirit so clearly and the rest of us can't?"